Notin vain, O brother, hath soul the spurs of enterprize,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 all fragrance:Thou shalt drink, and deeply, filling the mind with marvels;Thou shalt watch no more, lingering, disappointed of thy hope;Thou shalt roam where road is none, a traveller untrammelled,Speeding at a wish, emancipate, to where the stars are suns!
Notin vain, O brother, hath soul the spurs of enterprize,
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 all fragrance:
Thou shalt drink, and deeply, filling the mind with marvels;
Thou shalt watch no more, lingering, disappointed of thy hope;
Thou shalt roam where road is none, a traveller untrammelled,
Speeding at a wish, emancipate, to where the stars are suns!
Count,count your hopes, heirs of immortality and love;And hear my kindred faith, and 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 athirst for God, the God who dwelt in Man!Prophet, priest, and king, the sacrifice, the substitute, the Saviour,Rapture of the blessed in the hunted One of earth, the Pardoner in the victim;How many centuries of joy concentrate in that theme,How often a Methusalem might count his thousand years, and leave it unexhausted!And lo, the heavenly Jerusalem, with all its gates one pearl,That pearl of countless price, the door by which we entered,—Come, tread the golden streets, and join that glorious throng,The happy ones of heaven and earth, ten thousand times ten thousand;Hark, they sing that song,—and cast their crowns before Him;Their souls alight with love,—Glory, and Praise, and Immortality!—Veil thine eyes: no son of time may see that holy vision,And even the seraph at thy side hath covered his face with wings.
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 athirst for God, the God who dwelt in Man!
Prophet, priest, and king, the sacrifice, the substitute, the Saviour,
Rapture of the blessed in the hunted One of earth, the Pardoner in the victim;
How many centuries of joy concentrate in that theme,
How often a Methusalem might count his thousand years, and leave it unexhausted!
And lo, the heavenly Jerusalem, with all its gates one pearl,
That pearl of countless price, the door by which we entered,—
Come, tread the golden streets, and join that glorious throng,
The happy ones of heaven and earth, ten thousand times ten thousand;
Hark, they sing that song,—and cast their crowns before Him;
Their souls alight with love,—Glory, and Praise, and Immortality!—
Veil thine eyes: no son of time may see that holy vision,
And even the seraph at thy side hath covered his face with wings.
Dothhe 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, but heed them not, and walk as if the temporal were all things.Vanities, buzzing on the ear, fill its drowsy chambers,Slow to dread those coming fears, the thunder and the trumpet;Motes, steaming on the sight, dim our purblind eyes,Dark to see the ponderous orb of nearing Immortality:Hemmed in by hostile foes, the trifler is busied on an epigram;The dull ox, driven to slaughter, careth but for pasture by the way.Alas, that the precious things of truth, and the everlasting hills,The mighty hopes we spake of, and the consciousness we feel,—Alas, that all the future, and its adamantine facts,Clouded by the present with intoxicating fumes,—Should seem even to us, the great expectant heirs,To us, the responsible and free, fearful sons of reason,Only as a lovely song, sweet sounds of solemn music,A pleasant voice, and nothing more,—doth he not speak parables?
Dothhe 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, but heed them not, and walk as if the temporal were all things.
Vanities, buzzing on the ear, fill its drowsy chambers,
Slow to dread those coming fears, the thunder and the trumpet;
Motes, steaming on the sight, dim our purblind eyes,
Dark to see the ponderous orb of nearing Immortality:
Hemmed in by hostile foes, the trifler is busied on an epigram;
The dull ox, driven to slaughter, careth but for pasture by the way.
Alas, that the precious things of truth, and the everlasting hills,
The mighty hopes we spake of, and the consciousness we feel,—
Alas, that all the future, and its adamantine facts,
Clouded by the present with intoxicating fumes,—
Should seem even to us, the great expectant heirs,
To us, the responsible and free, fearful sons of reason,
Only as a lovely song, sweet sounds of solemn music,
A pleasant voice, and nothing more,—doth he not speak parables?
Lookto thy soul, O man, for none can be surety for his brother:Behold, for heaven—or for hell,—thou canst not escape from Immortality!
Lookto thy soul, O man, for none can be surety for his brother:
Behold, for heaven—or for hell,—thou canst not escape from Immortality!
Mindis like a volatile essence, flitting hither and thither,A solitary sentinel of the fortress body, to show himself everywhere by turns:Mind is indivisible and instant, with neither parts nor organs,That it doeth, it doth quickly, but the whole mind doth it:An active versatile agent, untiring in the principle of energy,Nor space, nor time, nor rest, nor toil, can affect the tenant of the brain;His dwelling may verily be shattered, and the furniture thereof be disarranged,But the particle of Deity in man slumbereth not, neither can be wearied:However swift to change, even as the field of a kaleidoscope,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 enwrap a world, collapsing to prison up an atom:As, by night, thine irritable eyes may have seen strange changing figures,Now a wheel, now suddenly a point, a line, a curve, a zigzag,A maze ever altering, as the dance of gnats upon a sunbeam,Swift, intricate, neither to be prophesied, nor to be remembered in succession,So, the mind of a man, single, and perpetually moving,Flickereth about from thought to thought, changed with each idea;For the passing second metamorphosed to the image of that within its ken,And throwing 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.
Mindis like a volatile essence, flitting hither and thither,
A solitary sentinel of the fortress body, to show himself everywhere by turns:
Mind is indivisible and instant, with neither parts nor organs,
That it doeth, it doth quickly, but the whole mind doth it:
An active versatile agent, untiring in the principle of energy,
Nor space, nor time, nor rest, nor toil, can affect the tenant of the brain;
His dwelling may verily be shattered, and the furniture thereof be disarranged,
But the particle of Deity in man slumbereth not, neither can be wearied:
However swift to change, even as the field of a kaleidoscope,
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 enwrap a world, collapsing to prison up an atom:
As, by night, thine irritable eyes may have seen strange changing figures,
Now a wheel, now suddenly a point, a line, a curve, a zigzag,
A maze ever altering, as the dance of gnats upon a sunbeam,
Swift, intricate, neither to be prophesied, nor to be remembered in succession,
So, the mind of a man, single, and perpetually moving,
Flickereth about from thought to thought, changed with each idea;
For the passing second metamorphosed to the image of that within its ken,
And throwing 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.
Therefore,it is wise and well to guide the mind aright,That its aptness may be sensitive to good, and shrink with antipathy from evil:For use will mould and mark it, or nonusage dull and blunt it;—So to talk of spirit by analogy with substance;And analogy is a truer guide, than many teachers tell of,Similitudes are scattered round, to help us, not to hurt us;Moses, in his every type, and the Greater than Moses, in His parables,Preach, in terms that all may learn, the philosophic lessons of analogy:And here, in a topic immaterial, the likeness of analogy is just;By habits, knit the nerves of mind, and train the gladiator shrewdly:For thought shall strengthen thinking, and imagery speed imagination,Until thy spiritual inmate shall have swelled to the giant of Otranto.
Therefore,it is wise and well to guide the mind aright,
That its aptness may be sensitive to good, and shrink with antipathy from evil:
For use will mould and mark it, or nonusage dull and blunt it;—
So to talk of spirit by analogy with substance;
And analogy is a truer guide, than many teachers tell of,
Similitudes are scattered round, to help us, not to hurt us;
Moses, in his every type, and the Greater than Moses, in His parables,
Preach, in terms that all may learn, the philosophic lessons of analogy:
And here, in a topic immaterial, the likeness of analogy is just;
By habits, knit the nerves of mind, and train the gladiator shrewdly:
For thought shall strengthen thinking, and imagery speed imagination,
Until thy spiritual inmate shall have swelled to the giant of Otranto.
Nevertheless,heed well, that this Athlete, growing in thy brain,Be a wholesome Genius, not a cursed Afrite:And see thou discipline his strength, and point his aim discreetly;Feed him on humility and holy things, weaned from covetous desires;Hour by hour and day by day, ply him with ideas of excellence,Dragging forth the evil but to loathe, as a Spartan's drunken Helot:And win, by gradual allurements, the still expanding soul,To rise from a contemplated universe, even to the Hand that made it.
Nevertheless,heed well, that this Athlete, growing in thy brain,
Be a wholesome Genius, not a cursed Afrite:
And see thou discipline his strength, and point his aim discreetly;
Feed him on humility and holy things, weaned from covetous desires;
Hour by hour and day by day, ply him with ideas of excellence,
Dragging forth the evil but to loathe, as a Spartan's drunken Helot:
And win, by gradual allurements, the still expanding soul,
To rise from a contemplated universe, even to the Hand that made it.
A commonmind perceiveth not beyond his eyes and ears:The palings of the park of sense enthral this captured roebuck:And still, though fettered in the flesh, he doth not feel his chains,Externals are the world to him, and circumstance his atmosphere.Therefore tangible pleasures are enough for the animal man;He is swift to speak and slow to think, dreading his own dim conscience;And solitude is terrible, and exile worse than death,He cannot dwell apart, nor breathe at a distance from the crowd.But minds of nobler stamp, and chiefest the mint-marked of heaven,Walk independent, by themselves, freely manumitted of externals:They carry viands with them, and need no refreshment by the way,Nor drink of other wells than their own inner fountain.Strange shall it seem how little such a man will lean upon the accidents of life,He is winged and needeth not a staff; if it break, he shall not fall:And lightly perchance doth he remember the stale trivialities around him,He liveth in the realm of thought, beyond the world of things;These are but transient Matter, and himself enduring Spirit:And worldliness will laugh to scorn that sublimated wisdom.His eyes may open on a prison-cell, but the bare walls glow with imagery;His ears may be filled with execration, but are listening to the music of sweet thoughts;He may dwell in a hovel with a hero's heart, and canopy his penury with peace,For mind is a kingdom to the man, who gathereth his pleasure from Ideas.
A commonmind perceiveth not beyond his eyes and ears:
The palings of the park of sense enthral this captured roebuck:
And still, though fettered in the flesh, he doth not feel his chains,
Externals are the world to him, and circumstance his atmosphere.
Therefore tangible pleasures are enough for the animal man;
He is swift to speak and slow to think, dreading his own dim conscience;
And solitude is terrible, and exile worse than death,
He cannot dwell apart, nor breathe at a distance from the crowd.
But minds of nobler stamp, and chiefest the mint-marked of heaven,
Walk independent, by themselves, freely manumitted of externals:
They carry viands with them, and need no refreshment by the way,
Nor drink of other wells than their own inner fountain.
Strange shall it seem how little such a man will lean upon the accidents of life,
He is winged and needeth not a staff; if it break, he shall not fall:
And lightly perchance doth he remember the stale trivialities around him,
He liveth in the realm of thought, beyond the world of things;
These are but transient Matter, and himself enduring Spirit:
And worldliness will laugh to scorn that sublimated wisdom.
His eyes may open on a prison-cell, but the bare walls glow with imagery;
His ears may be filled with execration, but are listening to the music of sweet thoughts;
He may dwell in a hovel with a hero's heart, and canopy his penury with peace,
For mind is a kingdom to the man, who gathereth his pleasure from Ideas.
Adamgave the name, when the Lord had made His creature,For God led them in review, to see what man would call them.As they struck his senses, he proclaimed their sounds,A name for the distinguishing of each, a numeral by which it should be known:He specified the partridge by her cry, and the forest prowler by his roaring,The tree by its use, and the flower by its beauty, and everything according to its truth.
Adamgave the name, when the Lord had made His creature,
For God led them in review, to see what man would call them.
As they struck his senses, he proclaimed their sounds,
A name for the distinguishing of each, a numeral by which it should be known:
He specified the partridge by her cry, and the forest prowler by his roaring,
The tree by its use, and the flower by its beauty, and everything according to its truth.
Thereis an arbitrary name; whereunto the idea attacheth;And there is a reasonable name, linking its fitness to idea:Yet shall these twain run in parallel courses,Neither shall 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 different 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 then of Fountain?—flowing silver in the sun.
Thereis an arbitrary name; whereunto the idea attacheth;
And there is a reasonable name, linking its fitness to idea:
Yet shall these twain run in parallel courses,
Neither shall 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 different 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 then of Fountain?—flowing silver in the sun.
Manya 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 particularsThrough a character obvious to all men, and worthy of their instant acceptation.The herbalist had a simple cause for every word upon his catalogue,But now the mouth of Botany is filled with empty sound;And many a peasant hath an answer on his tongue, concerning some vexed flower,Shrewder than the centipede phrase, wherewithal philosophers invest it.
Manya 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 upon his catalogue,
But now the mouth of Botany is filled with empty sound;
And many a peasant hath an answer on his tongue, concerning some vexed flower,
Shrewder than the centipede phrase, wherewithal philosophers invest it.
Forthat, the foolishness of pride, and flatteries of cringing homage,Strew with chaff the threshing-floors of science; names perplex them all:The entomologist, who hath pried upon an insect, straightway shall endow it with his name;It had many qualities and marks of note,—but in chief, a vain observer:The geographer shall journey to the pole, through biting frost and desolation,And, for some simple patron's sake, shall name that land, the happy:The fossilist hath found a bone, the rib of some huge lizard,And forthwith standeth to it sponsor, to tack himself on reptile immortalities:The sportsman, hunting at the Cape, found some strange-horned antelope,The spots are new, the fame is cheap, and so his name is added.Thus, obscurities encumber knowledge, even by the vanity of menWho play into each other's hand the game of giving names.
Forthat, the foolishness of pride, and flatteries of cringing homage,
Strew with chaff the threshing-floors of science; names perplex them all:
The entomologist, who hath pried upon an insect, straightway shall endow it with his name;
It had many qualities and marks of note,—but in chief, a vain observer:
The geographer shall journey to the pole, through biting frost and desolation,
And, for some simple patron's sake, shall name that land, the happy:
The fossilist hath found a bone, the rib of some huge lizard,
And forthwith standeth to it sponsor, to tack himself on reptile immortalities:
The sportsman, hunting at the Cape, found some strange-horned antelope,
The spots are new, the fame is cheap, and so his name is added.
Thus, obscurities encumber knowledge, even by the vanity of men
Who play into each other's hand the game of giving names.
Variousare 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 near associations,Contributed their symbollings of old, wherewith to title men:And heraldry set upon its cresture the figured attributes as ensignsBy which, as by a name concrete, its bearer should be known.
Variousare 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 near associations,
Contributed their symbollings of old, wherewith to title men:
And heraldry set upon its cresture the figured attributes as ensigns
By which, as by a name concrete, its bearer should be known.
Egyptopened on the theme, dressing up her gods in qualities;Horns of power, feathers of the swift, mitres of catholic dominion,The sovereign asp, the circle everlasting, the crook and thong of justice,By many mystic shapes and sounds displayed the idol's name.Thereafter, high-plumed warriors, the chieftains of Etruria and Troy,And Xerxes, urging on his millions to the tomb of pride, Thermopylæ,And Hiero with his bounding ships, all figured at the prow,And Rome's Prætorian standards, piled with strange devices,And stout crusaders pressing to the battle, clad in sable mail;These all in their speaking symbols, earned, or wore, a name.Eve; the mother of all living, and Abraham, father of a multitude,Jacob, the supplanter, and David, the beloved, and all the worthies of old time,Noah, who came for consolation, and Benoni, son of sorrow,Kings and prophets, children of the East, owned each his title of significance.
Egyptopened on the theme, dressing up her gods in qualities;
Horns of power, feathers of the swift, mitres of catholic dominion,
The sovereign asp, the circle everlasting, the crook and thong of justice,
By many mystic shapes and sounds displayed the idol's name.
Thereafter, high-plumed warriors, the chieftains of Etruria and Troy,
And Xerxes, urging on his millions to the tomb of pride, Thermopylæ,
And Hiero with his bounding ships, all figured at the prow,
And Rome's Prætorian standards, piled with strange devices,
And stout crusaders pressing to the battle, clad in sable mail;
These all in their speaking symbols, earned, or wore, a name.
Eve; the mother of all living, and Abraham, father of a multitude,
Jacob, the supplanter, and David, the beloved, and all the worthies of old time,
Noah, who came for consolation, and Benoni, son of sorrow,
Kings and prophets, children of the East, owned each his title of significance.
Therebe names of high descent, and thereby storied honours;Names of fair renown, and therein characters of merit:But to lend the lowborn noble names, is to shed upon them ridicule and evil;Yea, many weeds run rank in pride, if men have dubbed them cedars.And to herald common mediocrity with the noisy notes of fame,Tendeth to its deeper scorn; as if it were to call the mole a mammoth.Yet shall ye find the trader's babe dignified with sounding titles,And little hath the father guessed the harm he did his child:For either may they breed him discontent, a peevish repining at his station,Or point the finger of despite at the mule in the trappings of an elephant:And it is a kind of theft to filch appellations from the famous,A soiling of the shrines of praise with folly's vulgar herd.Prudence hath often gone ashamed for the name they added to his father's,If minds of mark and great achievements bore it well before;For he walketh as the jay in the fable, though not by his own folly,Another's fault hath compassed his misfortune, making him a martyr to his name.
Therebe names of high descent, and thereby storied honours;
Names of fair renown, and therein characters of merit:
But to lend the lowborn noble names, is to shed upon them ridicule and evil;
Yea, many weeds run rank in pride, if men have dubbed them cedars.
And to herald common mediocrity with the noisy notes of fame,
Tendeth to its deeper scorn; as if it were to call the mole a mammoth.
Yet shall ye find the trader's babe dignified with sounding titles,
And little hath the father guessed the harm he did his child:
For either may they breed him discontent, a peevish repining at his station,
Or point the finger of despite at the mule in the trappings of an elephant:
And it is a kind of theft to filch appellations from the famous,
A soiling of the shrines of praise with folly's vulgar herd.
Prudence hath often gone ashamed for the name they added to his father's,
If minds of mark and great achievements bore it well before;
For he walketh as the jay in the fable, though not by his own folly,
Another's fault hath compassed his misfortune, making him a martyr to his name.
Whowould call the tench a whale, or style a torch, Orion?Yet many a silly parent hath dealt likewise with his nurseling.Give thy child a fit distinguishment, making him sole tenant of a name,For it were a sore hindrance to hold it in common with a hundred:In the Babel of confused identities fame is little feasible,The felon shall detract from the philanthropist, and the sage share honours with the simple:Still, in thy title of distinguishment, fall not into arrogant assumption,Steering from caprice and affectations; and for all thou doest, have a reason.He that is ambitious for his son, should give him untried names,For those that have served other men, haply may injure by their evils;Or otherwise may hinder by their glories; therefore, set him by himself,To win for his individual name some clear specific praise.There were nine Homers, all goodly sons of song, but where is any record of the eight?One grew to fame, an Aaron's rod, and swallowed up his brethren:Who knoweth? more distinctly titled, those dead eight had lived;But the censers were ranged in a circle to mingle their sweets without a difference.
Whowould call the tench a whale, or style a torch, Orion?
Yet many a silly parent hath dealt likewise with his nurseling.
Give thy child a fit distinguishment, making him sole tenant of a name,
For it were a sore hindrance to hold it in common with a hundred:
In the Babel of confused identities fame is little feasible,
The felon shall detract from the philanthropist, and the sage share honours with the simple:
Still, in thy title of distinguishment, fall not into arrogant assumption,
Steering from caprice and affectations; and for all thou doest, have a reason.
He that is ambitious for his son, should give him untried names,
For those that have served other men, haply may injure by their evils;
Or otherwise may hinder by their glories; therefore, set him by himself,
To win for his individual name some clear specific praise.
There were nine Homers, all goodly sons of song, but where is any record of the eight?
One grew to fame, an Aaron's rod, and swallowed up his brethren:
Who knoweth? more distinctly titled, those dead eight had lived;
But the censers were ranged in a circle to mingle their sweets without a difference.
Artthou named of a common crowd, and sensible of high aspirings?It is hard for thee to rise,—yet strive: thou mayest be among them a Musæus.Art thou named of a family, the same in successive generations?It is open to thee still to earn for epithets, such an one, the good or great.Art thou named foolishly? Show that thou art wiser than thy fathers;Live to shame their vanity or sin by dutiful devotion to thy sphere.Art thou named discreetly? It is well, the course is free;No competitor shall claim thy colours, neither fix his faults upon thee:Hasten to the goal of fame between the posts of duty,And win a blessing from the world, that men may love thy name:Yea, that the unction of its praise, in fragrance well deserving,May float adown the stream of time, like ambergris at sea;So thy sons may tell their sons, and those may teach their children,He died in goodness, as he lived;—and left us his good name.And more than these: there is a roll whereon thy name is written;See that, in the Book of Doom, that name is fixed 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.
Artthou named of a common crowd, and sensible of high aspirings?
It is hard for thee to rise,—yet strive: thou mayest be among them a Musæus.
Art thou named of a family, the same in successive generations?
It is open to thee still to earn for epithets, such an one, the good or great.
Art thou named foolishly? Show that thou art wiser than thy fathers;
Live to shame their vanity or sin by dutiful devotion to thy sphere.
Art thou named discreetly? It is well, the course is free;
No competitor shall claim thy colours, neither fix his faults upon thee:
Hasten to the goal of fame between the posts of duty,
And win a blessing from the world, that men may love thy name:
Yea, that the unction of its praise, in fragrance well deserving,
May float adown the stream of time, like ambergris at sea;
So thy sons may tell their sons, and those may teach their children,
He died in goodness, as he lived;—and left us his good name.
And more than these: there is a roll whereon thy name is written;
See that, in the Book of Doom, that name is fixed 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.
Takenseparately from all substance, and flying with the feathered flock of thoughts,The idea of a thing hath the nature of its Soul, a separate seeming essence:Intimately linked to the idea, suggesting many qualities,The name of a thing hath the nature of its Mind, an intellectual recorder:And the matter of a thing, concrete, is a Body to the perfect creature,Compacted three in one, as all things else within the universe.Nothing canst thou add to them, and nothing take away, for all have these proportions,The thought, the word, the form, combining in the Thing:All separate, yet harmonizing well, and mingled each with other,One whole in several parts, yet each part spreading to a whole:The idea is a whole; and the meaning phrase that spake idea, a whole;And the matter, as ye see it, is a whole; the mystery of true triunity:Yea, there is even a deeper mystery,—which none, I wot, can fathom,Matter, different from properties whereby the solid substance is described;For, size and weight, cohesion and the like, live distinct from matter,Yet who can imagine matter, unendowed with size and weight?As in the spiritual, so in the material, man must rest with patience,And wait for other eyes wherewith to read the books of God.
Takenseparately from all substance, and flying with the feathered flock of thoughts,
The idea of a thing hath the nature of its Soul, a separate seeming essence:
Intimately linked to the idea, suggesting many qualities,
The name of a thing hath the nature of its Mind, an intellectual recorder:
And the matter of a thing, concrete, is a Body to the perfect creature,
Compacted three in one, as all things else within the universe.
Nothing canst thou add to them, and nothing take away, for all have these proportions,
The thought, the word, the form, combining in the Thing:
All separate, yet harmonizing well, and mingled each with other,
One whole in several parts, yet each part spreading to a whole:
The idea is a whole; and the meaning phrase that spake idea, a whole;
And the matter, as ye see it, is a whole; the mystery of true triunity:
Yea, there is even a deeper mystery,—which none, I wot, can fathom,
Matter, different from properties whereby the solid substance is described;
For, size and weight, cohesion and the like, live distinct from matter,
Yet who can imagine matter, unendowed with size and weight?
As in the spiritual, so in the material, man must rest with patience,
And wait for other eyes wherewith to read the books of God.
Menhave talked learnedly of atoms, as if matter could be ever indivisible;They talk, but ill are skilled to teach, and darken truth by fancies:An atom by our grosser sense was never yet conceived,And nothing can be thought so small, as not to be divided: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 thing which may be touched, be made of impalpable proportions;The sum of indivisibles must needs be indivisible, as adding many nothings,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 MatterOf intangibles, and therefore uncohering, indivisibles, and therefore Spirit.
Menhave talked learnedly of atoms, as if matter could be ever indivisible;
They talk, but ill are skilled to teach, and darken truth by fancies:
An atom by our grosser sense was never yet conceived,
And nothing can be thought so small, as not to be divided:
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 thing which may be touched, be made of impalpable proportions;
The sum of indivisibles must needs be indivisible, as adding many nothings,
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,
In the foolishness of men without a God fancied to fashion Matter
Of intangibles, and therefore uncohering, indivisibles, and therefore Spirit.
Thingsbreed thoughts; therefore at Thebes and Heliopolis,In hieroglyphic sculptures are the priestly secrets written:Things breed thoughts; therefore was the Athens of idolatrySet with carved images, frequent as the trees of Academus:Things breed thoughts; therefore the Brahmin and the BurmanWith mythologic shapes adorn their coarse pantheon:Things breed thoughts; therefore the statue and the picture,Relics, rosaries, and miracles in act, quicken the Papist in his worship:Things breed thoughts; therefore the lovers at their parting,Interchanged with tearful smiles the dear reminding tokens:Things breed thoughts; therefore when the clansman met his foe,The bloodstained claymore in his hand revived the memories of vengeance.
Thingsbreed thoughts; therefore at Thebes and Heliopolis,
In hieroglyphic sculptures are the priestly secrets written:
Things breed thoughts; therefore was the Athens of idolatry
Set with carved images, frequent as the trees of Academus:
Things breed thoughts; therefore the Brahmin and the Burman
With mythologic shapes adorn their coarse pantheon:
Things breed thoughts; therefore the statue and the picture,
Relics, rosaries, and miracles in act, quicken the Papist in his worship:
Things breed thoughts; therefore the lovers at their parting,
Interchanged with tearful smiles the dear reminding tokens:
Things breed thoughts; therefore when the clansman met his foe,
The bloodstained claymore in his hand revived the memories of vengeance.
Thingsteach with double force; through the animal eye, and through the mind,And the eye catcheth in an instant, what the ear shall not learn within an hour.Thence is the potency of travel, the precious might of its advantagesTo compensate its dissipative harm, its toil and cost and danger.Ulysses, wandering to many shores, lived in many cities,And thereby learnt the minds of men, and stored his own more richly:Herodotus, the accurate and kindly, spake of that he saw,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 some arbitrary accident,Still shall the thought be vague or false, if none have seen the Thing:For in Things the property with accident standeth in a mass concrete,These cannot cheat the sense, nor elude the vigilance of spirit.Travel is a ceaseless fount of surface education,But its wisdom will be simply superficial, if thou add not thoughts to things:Yet, aided by the varnish of society, things may serve for thoughts,Till many dullards that have seen the world shall pass for scholars:Because one single glance will conquer all descriptions,Though graphic, these left some unsaid, though true, these tended to some error;And the most witless eye that saw, had a juster notion of its object,Than the shrewdest mind that heard and shaped its gathered thoughts of Things.
Thingsteach with double force; through the animal eye, and through the mind,
And the eye catcheth in an instant, what the ear shall not learn within an hour.
Thence is the potency of travel, the precious might of its advantages
To compensate its dissipative harm, its toil and cost and danger.
Ulysses, wandering to many shores, lived in many cities,
And thereby learnt the minds of men, and stored his own more richly:
Herodotus, the accurate and kindly, spake of that he saw,
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 some arbitrary accident,
Still shall the thought be vague or false, if none have seen the Thing:
For in Things the property with accident standeth in a mass concrete,
These cannot cheat the sense, nor elude the vigilance of spirit.
Travel is a ceaseless fount of surface education,
But its wisdom will be simply superficial, if thou add not thoughts to things:
Yet, aided by the varnish of society, things may serve for thoughts,
Till many dullards that have seen the world shall pass for scholars:
Because one single glance will conquer all descriptions,
Though graphic, these left some unsaid, though true, these tended to some error;
And the most witless eye that saw, had a juster notion of its object,
Than the shrewdest mind that heard and shaped its gathered thoughts of Things.
Confidencewas bearer of the palm; for it looked like conviction of desert:And where the strong is well assured, the weaker soon allow it.Majesty and Beauty are commingled, in moving with immutable decision,And well may charm the 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.
Confidencewas bearer of the palm; for it looked like conviction of desert:
And where the strong is well assured, the weaker soon allow it.
Majesty and Beauty are commingled, in moving with immutable decision,
And well may charm the 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.
Confidenceis 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 when he dared it, danger died, and faith had vanquished fear.Boldness is akin to power: yea, because ignorance is weakness,Knowledge with unshrinking might will nerve the vigorous hand:Boldness hath a startling strength; the mouse may fright a 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 marvel done upon the earth, but it had sprung of faith:Nothing noble, generous, or great, but faith was the root of the achievement;Nothing comely, nothing famous, but its praise is faith.Leonidas fought in human faith, as Joshua in divine:Xenophon trusted to his skill, and the sons of Mattathias to their cause:In faith Columbus found a path across those untried waters;The heroines of Arc and Saragossa fought in earthly faith:Tell was strong, and Alfred great, and Luther wise, by faith;Margaret by faith was valiant for her son, and Wallace mighty for his people:Faith in his reason made Socrates sublime, as faith in his science, Galileo:Ambassadors in faith are bold, and unreproved for boldness:Faith urged Fabius to delays, and sent forth Hannibal to Cannæ:Cæsar at the Rubicon, Miltiades at Marathon; both were sped by faith.I set not all in equal spheres: I number not the martyr with the patriot;I class not the hero with his horse, because the twain have courage;But only for ensample and instruction, that all things stand by faith;Albeit faith of divers kinds, and varying in degree.There is a faith towards men, and there is a faith towards God;The latter is the gold and the former is the brass; but both are sturdy metal:And the brass mingled with the gold floweth into rich Corinthian;A substance bright and hard and keen, to point Achilles' spear:So shall thou stop the way against the foes that hem thee;Trust in God to strengthen man;—be bold, for He doth help.
Confidenceis 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 when he dared it, danger died, and faith had vanquished fear.
Boldness is akin to power: yea, because ignorance is weakness,
Knowledge with unshrinking might will nerve the vigorous hand:
Boldness hath a startling strength; the mouse may fright a 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 marvel done upon the earth, but it had sprung of faith:
Nothing noble, generous, or great, but faith was the root of the achievement;
Nothing comely, nothing famous, but its praise is faith.
Leonidas fought in human faith, as Joshua in divine:
Xenophon trusted to his skill, and the sons of Mattathias to their cause:
In faith Columbus found a path across those untried waters;
The heroines of Arc and Saragossa fought in earthly faith:
Tell was strong, and Alfred great, and Luther wise, by faith;
Margaret by faith was valiant for her son, and Wallace mighty for his people:
Faith in his reason made Socrates sublime, as faith in his science, Galileo:
Ambassadors in faith are bold, and unreproved for boldness:
Faith urged Fabius to delays, and sent forth Hannibal to Cannæ:
Cæsar at the Rubicon, Miltiades at Marathon; both were sped by faith.
I set not all in equal spheres: I number not the martyr with the patriot;
I class not the hero with his horse, because the twain have courage;
But only for ensample and instruction, that all things stand by faith;
Albeit faith of divers kinds, and varying in degree.
There is a faith towards men, and there is a faith towards God;
The latter is the gold and the former is the brass; but both are sturdy metal:
And the brass mingled with the gold floweth into rich Corinthian;
A substance bright and hard and keen, to point Achilles' spear:
So shall thou stop the way against the foes that hem thee;
Trust in God to strengthen man;—be bold, for He doth help.
Yetmore: 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 aggression, 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 thou wish their weal;Or cautious doubt and bitter thoughts will tempt the best to foil thee.Believe the well in sanguine hope, and thou shall reap the better;But if thou deal with men so ill, thy dealings make them worse;Despair not of some gleams of good still lingering in the darkest,And among veterans in crime, plead thou as with their children:So, astonied at humanities, the bad heart long estranged,Shall even weep to feel himself so little 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.
Yetmore: 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 aggression, 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 thou wish their weal;
Or cautious doubt and bitter thoughts will tempt the best to foil thee.
Believe the well in sanguine hope, and thou shall reap the better;
But if thou deal with men so ill, thy dealings make them worse;
Despair not of some gleams of good still lingering in the darkest,
And among veterans in crime, plead thou as with their children:
So, astonied at humanities, the bad heart long estranged,
Shall even weep to feel himself so little 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.
Lookaside to lack of faith, the mass of ills it bringeth:All things treacherous, base, and vile, dissolving the brotherhood of men.Bonds break; the cement hath lost its hold; and each is separate from other;That which should be neighbourly and good, is cankered into bitterness and evil.O thou serpent, fell Suspicion, coiling coldly round the heart,—O thou asp of subtle Jealousy, stinging hotly to the soul,—O distrust, reserve, and doubt,—what reptile shapes are here,Poisoning the garden of a world with death among its flowers!No need of many words, the tale is easy to be told;A point will touch the truth, a line suggest the picture.For if, in thine own home, a cautious man and captious,Thou hintest at suspicion of a servant, 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 the way of lying:Or if thou observest upon friends, as seeking thee selfishly for interest,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,Harshly misinterpreting in each the levity of innocence for sin,Shall pour upon the lap of home pain where once was pleasure,And mix contentions in the cup, that mantled once with comforts,Bitterly and justly shall ye rue the punishment due to unbelief;Ye trust not each the other, nor the mutual vows of God;Take heed, for the pit may now be near, a pit of your own digging,—Faith abused tempteth unto crime, and doubt may make its monster.
Lookaside to lack of faith, the mass of ills it bringeth:
All things treacherous, base, and vile, dissolving the brotherhood of men.
Bonds break; the cement hath lost its hold; and each is separate from other;
That which should be neighbourly and good, is cankered into bitterness and evil.
O thou serpent, fell Suspicion, coiling coldly round the heart,—
O thou asp of subtle Jealousy, stinging hotly to the soul,—
O distrust, reserve, and doubt,—what reptile shapes are here,
Poisoning the garden of a world with death among its flowers!
No need of many words, the tale is easy to be told;
A point will touch the truth, a line suggest the picture.
For if, in thine own home, a cautious man and captious,
Thou hintest at suspicion of a servant, 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 the way of lying:
Or if thou observest upon friends, as seeking thee selfishly for interest,
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,
Harshly misinterpreting in each the levity of innocence for sin,
Shall pour upon the lap of home pain where once was pleasure,
And mix contentions in the cup, that mantled once with comforts,
Bitterly and justly shall ye rue the punishment due to unbelief;
Ye trust not each the other, nor the mutual vows of God;
Take heed, for the pit may now be near, a pit of your own digging,—
Faith abused tempteth unto crime, and doubt may make its monster.
Manverily 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,Christ speaketh to the dead, as those that are capable of living;And an evil teacher is that man, a tempter to much sin,Who looketh on his hearers with distrust, and hath no confidence in brethren.All may mend; and sympathies are healing: and reason hath its influence with the worst;And in those worst is ample hope, if only thou hast charity, and faith.
Manverily 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,
Christ speaketh to the dead, as those that are capable of living;
And an evil teacher is that man, a tempter to much sin,
Who looketh on his hearers with distrust, and hath no confidence in brethren.
All may mend; and sympathies are healing: and reason hath its influence with the worst;
And in those worst is ample hope, if only thou hast charity, and faith.
Somewhileshave I watched a man exchanging the sobriety of faith,Old lamps for new,—even for fanatical excitements.He gained surface, but lost solidity; heat, in lieu of health;And still with swelling words and thoughts he scorned his ancient coldness:But, his strength was shorn as Samson's; he walked he knew not whither;Doubt was on his daily path; and duties shewed not certain:Until, in an hour of enthusiasm, stung with secret fears,He pinned the safety of his soul on some false prophet's sleeve.And then, that sure word failed; and with it, failed his faith;It failed, and fell; O deep and dreadful was his fall in faith!He could not stop, with reason's rein, his coursers on the slope,And so they dashed him down the cliff of hardened unbelief.With overreaching grasp he had strained for visionary treasures,But a fiend had cheated his presumption, and hurled him to despair.So he lay in his blood, the victim of a credulous false faith,And many nights, and night-like days, he dwelt in outer darkness.But, within a while, his variable mind caught a new impression,A new impression of the good old stamp, that sealed him when a child:He was softened, and abjured his infidelity; he was wiser, and despised his credulity;And turned again to simple faith more simply than before.Experience had declared too well his mind was built of water,And so, renouncing strength in self, he fixed his faith in God.
Somewhileshave I watched a man exchanging the sobriety of faith,
Old lamps for new,—even for fanatical excitements.
He gained surface, but lost solidity; heat, in lieu of health;
And still with swelling words and thoughts he scorned his ancient coldness:
But, his strength was shorn as Samson's; he walked he knew not whither;
Doubt was on his daily path; and duties shewed not certain:
Until, in an hour of enthusiasm, stung with secret fears,
He pinned the safety of his soul on some false prophet's sleeve.
And then, that sure word failed; and with it, failed his faith;
It failed, and fell; O deep and dreadful was his fall in faith!
He could not stop, with reason's rein, his coursers on the slope,
And so they dashed him down the cliff of hardened unbelief.
With overreaching grasp he had strained for visionary treasures,
But a fiend had cheated his presumption, and hurled him to despair.
So he lay in his blood, the victim of a credulous false faith,
And many nights, and night-like days, he dwelt in outer darkness.
But, within a while, his variable mind caught a new impression,
A new impression of the good old stamp, that sealed him when a child:
He was softened, and abjured his infidelity; he was wiser, and despised his credulity;
And turned again to simple faith more simply than before.
Experience had declared too well his mind was built of water,
And so, renouncing strength in self, he fixed his faith in God.
Itis not for me to stipulate for creeds; Bible, Church, and Reason,These three shall lead the mind, if any can, to truth.But I must stipulate for faith: both God and man demand it:Trust is great in either world, if any would be well.Verily, the sceptical propensity is an universal foe;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.
Itis not for me to stipulate for creeds; Bible, Church, and Reason,
These three shall lead the mind, if any can, to truth.
But I must stipulate for faith: both God and man demand it:
Trust is great in either world, if any would be well.
Verily, the sceptical propensity is an universal foe;
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.
Faithmay rise into miracles of might, as some few wise have shown:Faith may sink into credulities of weakness, as the mass of fools have witnessed.Therefore, in the first, saints and martyrs have fulfilled their mission,Conquering dangers, courting deaths, and triumphing in all.Therefore, in the last, the magician and the witch, victims of their own delusion,Have gained the bitter wages of impracticable sins.They believed in allegiance with Satan; they worked in that belief,And thereby earned the loss and harm of guilt that might not be.For, faith hath two hands; with the one it 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 evil, he sacrificed heartily to fiends,He withered up with curses to the limit of his will, and was vile, because he thought himself a villain.
Faithmay rise into miracles of might, as some few wise have shown:
Faith may sink into credulities of weakness, as the mass of fools have witnessed.
Therefore, in the first, saints and martyrs have fulfilled their mission,
Conquering dangers, courting deaths, and triumphing in all.
Therefore, in the last, the magician and the witch, victims of their own delusion,
Have gained the bitter wages of impracticable sins.
They believed in allegiance with Satan; they worked in that belief,
And thereby earned the loss and harm of guilt that might not be.
For, faith hath two hands; with the one it 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 evil, he sacrificed heartily to fiends,
He withered up with curses to the limit of his will, and was vile, because he thought himself a villain.
A greatmind 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 is 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 the 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,That many things may truly be, which man hath not conceived:The characters revealed of God are a strong mind's sole assuranceThat any strangeness may not stand a sober theme for faith.Ignorance being light denied, this ought to show the stronger in its view,But ignorance is commonly a double negative, both of light and morals:So, adding vanity to blindness, for ease, it taketh refuge in a doubt,And aching soon with ceaseless doubt, it finisheth the strife by misbelieving.
A greatmind 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 is 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 the 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,
That many things may truly be, which man hath not conceived:
The characters revealed of God are a strong mind's sole assurance
That any strangeness may not stand a sober theme for faith.
Ignorance being light denied, this ought to show the stronger in its view,
But ignorance is commonly a double negative, both of light and morals:
So, adding vanity to blindness, for ease, it taketh refuge in a doubt,
And aching soon with ceaseless doubt, it finisheth the strife by misbelieving.
Faith,by its very nature, shall embrace both credence and obedience:Yea, the word for both is one, and cannot be divided.For, work void of faith, wherein can it be counted for a duty;And faith not seen in work,—whereby can the doctrine be discovered?Faith in religion is an instrument; a handle, and the hand to turn it:Less a condition than a mean, and more an operation than a virtue.A moral sickness, like to sin, must have a moral cure;And faith alone can heal the mind, whose malady is sense.Ye are told of God's deep love: they that believe will love Him:They that love Him, will obey: and obedience hath its blessing.Ye are taught of the soul's great price; they that believe will prize it,And, prizing soul, will cherish well the hopes that make it happy.Effects spring from feelings; and feelings grow of faith:If a man conceive himself insulted, will not his anger smite?Thus, let a soul believe his state, his danger, destiny, redemption,Will he not feel eager to be safe, like him that kept the prison at Philippi?
Faith,by its very nature, shall embrace both credence and obedience:
Yea, the word for both is one, and cannot be divided.
For, work void of faith, wherein can it be counted for a duty;
And faith not seen in work,—whereby can the doctrine be discovered?
Faith in religion is an instrument; a handle, and the hand to turn it:
Less a condition than a mean, and more an operation than a virtue.
A moral sickness, like to sin, must have a moral cure;
And faith alone can heal the mind, whose malady is sense.
Ye are told of God's deep love: they that believe will love Him:
They that love Him, will obey: and obedience hath its blessing.
Ye are taught of the soul's great price; they that believe will prize it,
And, prizing soul, will cherish well the hopes that make it happy.
Effects spring from feelings; and feelings grow of faith:
If a man conceive himself insulted, will not his anger smite?
Thus, let a soul believe his state, his danger, destiny, redemption,
Will he not feel eager to be safe, like him that kept the prison at Philippi?
A motherhad 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 her's,—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 the door!
A motherhad 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 her's,—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 the door!
Allis vanity that is not honesty;—thus is it graven on the tomb:And there is no wisdom but in piety;—so the dead man preacheth:For, in a simple village church, among those classic shadesWhich sylvan Evelyn loved to rear, (his praise, and my delight,)These, the words of truth, are writ upon his sepulchreWho 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.I touch not now the vulgar thought, as of tricks and cheateries in trade;I speak of honest purpose, character, speech and action.For an honest man hath special need of charity, and prudence,Of a deep and humbling self-acquaintance, and of blessed commerce with his God,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 lights of truth;He heard a cause, which he had not skill to solve,—and so received it gladly;And that cause brought its consequence, 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;The bad chirurgeon's awkward knife harmeth, spite of honesty.Still, a rough diamond is better than the polished paste,—That courteous flattering fool, who spake of vice as virtue:And honesty, even by itself, though making many adversariesWhom prudence might have set aside, or charity have softened,Evermore will prosper at the last, and gain a man great honourBy giving others many goods, to his own cost and hindrance.
Allis vanity that is not honesty;—thus is it graven on the tomb:
And there is no wisdom but in piety;—so the dead man preacheth:
For, in a simple village church, among those classic shades
Which sylvan Evelyn loved to rear, (his praise, and my delight,)
These, the words of truth, are writ upon his sepulchre
Who learnt much lore, and knew all trees, from the cedar to the hyssop on the wall.
A just conjunction, godliness and honesty; ministering to both worlds,
Well wed, and ill to be divided, a pair that God hath joined together.
I touch not now the vulgar thought, as of tricks and cheateries in trade;
I speak of honest purpose, character, speech and action.
For an honest man hath special need of charity, and prudence,
Of a deep and humbling self-acquaintance, and of blessed commerce with his God,
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 lights of truth;
He heard a cause, which he had not skill to solve,—and so received it gladly;
And that cause brought its consequence, 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;
The bad chirurgeon's awkward knife harmeth, spite of honesty.
Still, a rough diamond is better than the polished paste,—
That courteous flattering fool, who spake of vice as virtue:
And honesty, even by itself, though making many adversaries
Whom prudence might have set aside, or charity have softened,
Evermore will prosper at the last, and gain a man great honour
By giving others many goods, to his own cost and hindrance.
Freedomis father of the honest, and sturdy Independence is his brother;These three, with heart and hand, dwell together in unity.The blunt yeoman, stout and true, will speak unto princes unabashed:His mind is loyal, just and free, a crystal in its plain integrity;What should make such an one ashamed? where courtiers kneel, he standeth;—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 blest 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 stalwarth race around him,Rooted in the soil like oaks, and hardy as the pine upon the mountains!
Freedomis father of the honest, and sturdy Independence is his brother;
These three, with heart and hand, dwell together in unity.
The blunt yeoman, stout and true, will speak unto princes unabashed:
His mind is loyal, just and free, a crystal in its plain integrity;
What should make such an one ashamed? where courtiers kneel, he standeth;—
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 blest 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 stalwarth 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.
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 something to be pleaded, even for a necessary guile,Whilst the world, and all that is therein, lieth deep in evil.Who can be altogether honest,—a champion never out of mail,Ready to break a lance for truth with every crowding error?Who can be altogether honest,—dragging out the secresies of life,And risking to be lashed and loathed for each unkind disclosure?Who can be altogether honest,—living in perpetual contentions,And prying out the petty cheats that swell the social scheme?For he must speak his instant mind,—a mind corrupt and sinful,Exhibiting to other men's disgust its undisguised deformities:He must utter all the hatred of his heart, and add to it the venom of his tongue;Shall he feel, and hide his feelings? that were the meanness of a hypocrite:—Still, O man, such hypocrisy is better, than this bold honesty to sin:Kill the feeling, or conceal it: let shame at least do the work of charity.
Nevertheless,there is something to be pleaded, even for a necessary guile,
Whilst the world, and all that is therein, lieth deep in evil.
Who can be altogether honest,—a champion never out of mail,
Ready to break a lance for truth with every crowding error?
Who can be altogether honest,—dragging out the secresies of life,
And risking to be lashed and loathed for each unkind disclosure?
Who can be altogether honest,—living in perpetual contentions,
And prying out the petty cheats that swell the social scheme?
For he must speak his instant mind,—a mind corrupt and sinful,
Exhibiting to other men's disgust its undisguised deformities:
He must utter all the hatred of his heart, and add to it the venom of his tongue;
Shall he feel, and hide his feelings? that were the meanness of a hypocrite:—
Still, O man, such hypocrisy is better, than this bold honesty to sin:
Kill the feeling, or conceal it: let shame at least do the work of charity.
O charity,thou livest not in warnings, meddling among men,Rebuking every foolish word, and censuring small sins;This is not thy secret,—rather wilt thou hide their multitude,And silence the condemning tongue, and wearisome exhortation.But for thee, thy strength and zeal shine in encouragement to good,Lifting up the lantern of ensample, that wanderers may find the way:That lantern is not lit to gaze on all the hatefulness of evil,But set on high for life and light, the loveliness of good.The hard censorious mind sitteth as a keen anatomistTracking up the fibres in corruption, and prying on a fearful corpse:But the charitable soul is a young lover, enamoured little wisely,That saw no fault in her he loved, and sought to see one less;So, in his kind and genial light, she grew more worthy of his love;Won to good by gentle suns, and not by frowning tempest.
O charity,thou livest not in warnings, meddling among men,
Rebuking every foolish word, and censuring small sins;
This is not thy secret,—rather wilt thou hide their multitude,
And silence the condemning tongue, and wearisome exhortation.
But for thee, thy strength and zeal shine in encouragement to good,
Lifting up the lantern of ensample, that wanderers may find the way:
That lantern is not lit to gaze on all the hatefulness of evil,
But set on high for life and light, the loveliness of good.
The hard censorious mind sitteth as a keen anatomist
Tracking up the fibres in corruption, and prying on a fearful corpse:
But the charitable soul is a young lover, enamoured little wisely,
That saw no fault in her he loved, and sought to see one less;
So, in his kind and genial light, she grew more worthy of his love;
Won to good by gentle suns, and not by frowning tempest.