Praisea fool, and slay him: for the canvas of his vanity is spread;His bark is shallow in the water, and a sudden gust shall sink it:Praise a wise man, and speed him on his way; for he carrieth the ballast of humility,And is glad when his course is cheered by the sympathy of brethren ashore.The praise of a good man is good, for he holdeth up the mirror of Truth,That Virtue may see her own beauty, and delight in her own fair face:The praise of a bad man is evil, for he hideth the deformity of Vice,Casting the mantle of a queen around the limbs of a leper.Praise is rebuke to the man whose conscience alloweth it not:And where conscience feeleth it her due, no praise is better than a little.He that despiseth the outward appearance, despiseth the esteem of his fellows;And he that overmuch regardeth it, shall earn only their 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 thine aim so low, that the breath of those around theeCan speed thy feathered arrow, or retard its flight?The child shooteth at a butterfly, but the man's mark is an eagle;And while his fellows talk, he hath conquered in the clouds.Ally thee to truth and godliness, and use the talents in thy charge;So shall thou walk in peace, deserving, if not having.With a friend, praise him when thou canst; for many a friendship hath decayed,Like a plant in a crowded corner, for want of sunshine on its leaves:With another, praise him not often—otherwise he shall despise thee;But be thou frugal in commending; so will he give honour to thy judgment:For thou that dost so zealously commend, art acknowledging thine own inferiority,And he, thou so highly hast exalted, shall proudly look down on thy esteem.
Praisea fool, and slay him: for the canvas of his vanity is spread;
His bark is shallow in the water, and a sudden gust shall sink it:
Praise a wise man, and speed him on his way; for he carrieth the ballast of humility,
And is glad when his course is cheered by the sympathy of brethren ashore.
The praise of a good man is good, for he holdeth up the mirror of Truth,
That Virtue may see her own beauty, and delight in her own fair face:
The praise of a bad man is evil, for he hideth the deformity of Vice,
Casting the mantle of a queen around the limbs of a leper.
Praise is rebuke to the man whose conscience alloweth it not:
And where conscience feeleth it her due, no praise is better than a little.
He that despiseth the outward appearance, despiseth the esteem of his fellows;
And he that overmuch regardeth it, shall earn only their 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 thine aim so low, that the breath of those around thee
Can speed thy feathered arrow, or retard its flight?
The child shooteth at a butterfly, but the man's mark is an eagle;
And while his fellows talk, he hath conquered in the clouds.
Ally thee to truth and godliness, and use the talents in thy charge;
So shall thou walk in peace, deserving, if not having.
With a friend, praise him when thou canst; for many a friendship hath decayed,
Like a plant in a crowded corner, for want of sunshine on its leaves:
With another, praise him not often—otherwise he shall despise thee;
But be thou frugal in commending; so will he give honour to thy judgment:
For thou that dost so zealously commend, art acknowledging thine own inferiority,
And he, thou so highly hast exalted, shall proudly look down on thy esteem.
Wiltthou that one remember a thing?—praise him in the midst of thy advice;Never yet forgat man the word whereby he hath been praised.Better to be censured by a thousand fools, than approved but by one man that is wise;For the pious are slower to help right, than the profane to hinder it:So, where the world rebuketh, there look thou for the excellent,And be suspicious of the good, which wicked men can praise.The captain bindeth his troop, not more by severity than kindness,And justly, should recompense well doing, as well as be strict with an offender;The laurel is cheap to the giver, but precious in his sight who hath won it,And the heart of the soldier rejoiceth in the approving glance of his chief.Timely given praise is even better than the merited rebuke of censure,For the sun is more needful to the plant than the knife that cutteth out a canker.Many a father hath erred, in that he hath withheld reproof,But more have mostly sinned, in withholding praise where it was due:There be many such as Eli among men; but these be more culpable than Eli,Who 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 kept 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 unmerited neglect?
Wiltthou that one remember a thing?—praise him in the midst of thy advice;
Never yet forgat man the word whereby he hath been praised.
Better to be censured by a thousand fools, than approved but by one man that is wise;
For the pious are slower to help right, than the profane to hinder it:
So, where the world rebuketh, there look thou for the excellent,
And be suspicious of the good, which wicked men can praise.
The captain bindeth his troop, not more by severity than kindness,
And justly, should recompense well doing, as well as be strict with an offender;
The laurel is cheap to the giver, but precious in his sight who hath won it,
And the heart of the soldier rejoiceth in the approving glance of his chief.
Timely given praise is even better than the merited rebuke of censure,
For the sun is more needful to the plant than the knife that cutteth out a canker.
Many a father hath erred, in that he hath withheld reproof,
But more have mostly sinned, in withholding praise where it was due:
There be many such as Eli among men; but these be more culpable than Eli,
Who 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 kept 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 unmerited neglect?
Expectnot praise from the mean, neither gratitude from the selfish;And to keep the proud thy friend, see thou do him not a service:For, behold, he will hate thee for his debt: thou hast humbled him by giving;And his stubbornness never shall acknowledge the good he hath taken from thy hand:Yea, rather will he turn and be thy foe, lest thou gather from his friendshipThat 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 worthiness 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.
Expectnot praise from the mean, neither gratitude from the selfish;
And to keep the proud thy friend, see thou do him not a service:
For, behold, he will hate thee for his debt: thou hast humbled him by giving;
And his stubbornness never shall acknowledge the good he hath taken from thy hand:
Yea, rather will he turn and be thy foe, lest thou gather from his friendship
That he doth account thee creditor, and standeth in the second place.
Still, O kindly feeling heart, be not thou chilled by the thankless,
Neither let the breath of gratitude fan thee into momentary heat:
Do good for good's own sake, looking not to worthiness 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.
Ifa man hold fast to thy creed, and fit his thinkings 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 is another,A handle of smooth amber is pleasanter than rough buck-horn.Show me a popular man; I can tell thee the secret of his 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.
Ifa man hold fast to thy creed, and fit his thinkings 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 is another,
A handle of smooth amber is pleasanter than rough buck-horn.
Show me a popular man; I can tell thee the secret of his 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.
Nothingbut may be better, and every better might be best;The blind may discern, and the simple prove, fault or want in all things;And a little mind looketh on the lily with a microscopic eye,Eager and glad to pry out specks on its robe of purity;But a great mind gazeth on the sun, glorying in his brightness,And taking large knowledge of his good, in the broad prairie of creation:What, though he hatch basilisks? what, though spots are on the sun?In fulness is his worth, in fulness be his praise!
Nothingbut may be better, and every better might be best;
The blind may discern, and the simple prove, fault or want in all things;
And a little mind looketh on the lily with a microscopic eye,
Eager and glad to pry out specks on its robe of purity;
But a great mind gazeth on the sun, glorying in his brightness,
And taking large knowledge of his good, in the broad prairie of creation:
What, though he hatch basilisks? what, though spots are on the sun?
In fulness is his worth, in fulness be his praise!
Knowledgeholdeth by the hilt, and heweth out a road to conquest;Ignorance graspeth the blade, and is wounded by its own good sword:Knowledge distilleth health from the virulence of opposite poisons;Ignorance mixeth wholesomes, unto the breeding of disease:Knowledge is leagued with the universe, and findeth a friend in all things;But ignorance is everywhere a stranger; unwelcome, ill at ease, and out of place.A man is helpless and unsafe up to the measure of his ignorance,For he lacketh perception of the aptitudes commending such a matter to his use,Clutching at the horn of danger, while he judgeth it the handle of security,Or casting his anchor so widely, that the granite reef is just within the tether.Untaught in science, he is but half alive, stupidly taking note 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 make amends for folly,Dealeth so shrewdly with the honest, they cannot 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 key-stone crumbleth into sand,There is panic in the general's tent, the oak is hollow as hemlock;Though the warm sap creepeth up its bark, filling out the sheaf of leaves,Though knowledge of all things beside add proofs of seeming vigour,Though the master-mind of the royal sage feast on the mysteries of wisdom,Yet ignorance of self shall bow down the spirit of a Solomon to idols;The storm of temptation, sweeping by, shall snap that oak like a reed,And the proud luxuriance of its tufted crown drag it the sooner to the dust.
Knowledgeholdeth by the hilt, and heweth out a road to conquest;
Ignorance graspeth the blade, and is wounded by its own good sword:
Knowledge distilleth health from the virulence of opposite poisons;
Ignorance mixeth wholesomes, unto the breeding of disease:
Knowledge is leagued with the universe, and findeth a friend in all things;
But ignorance is everywhere a stranger; unwelcome, ill at ease, and out of place.
A man is helpless and unsafe up to the measure of his ignorance,
For he lacketh perception of the aptitudes commending such a matter to his use,
Clutching at the horn of danger, while he judgeth it the handle of security,
Or casting his anchor so widely, that the granite reef is just within the tether.
Untaught in science, he is but half alive, stupidly taking note 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 make amends for folly,
Dealeth so shrewdly with the honest, they cannot 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 key-stone crumbleth into sand,
There is panic in the general's tent, the oak is hollow as hemlock;
Though the warm sap creepeth up its bark, filling out the sheaf of leaves,
Though knowledge of all things beside add proofs of seeming vigour,
Though the master-mind of the royal sage feast on the mysteries of wisdom,
Yet ignorance of self shall bow down the spirit of a Solomon to idols;
The storm of temptation, sweeping by, shall snap that oak like a reed,
And the proud luxuriance of its tufted crown drag it the sooner to the dust.
Youth,confident in self, tampereth with dangerous dalliance,Till the vice his heart once hated hath locked him in her foul embrace:Manhood, through zeal of doing good, seeketh high place for its occasions,Unwitting that the bleak mountain-air will nip the tender budding of his motives:Or painfully, for love of truth, he climbeth the ladder of science,Till pride of intellect heating his heart, warpeth it aside to delusion:The maiden, to give shadow to her fairness, plaiteth her raven hair,Heedlessly weaving for her soul the silken net of vanity:The grey-beard looketh on his gold, till he loveth its yellow smile,Unconscious of the bright decoy which is luring his heart unto avarice:Wrath avoideth no quarrel, jealousy counteth its suspicions,Pining envy gazeth still, and melancholy seeketh solitude,The sensitive broodeth on his slights, the fearful poreth over horrors,The train of wantonness is fired, the nerves of indecision are unstrung;Each special proneness unto harm is pampered by ignorant indulgence,And the man, for want of warning, yieldeth to the apt temptation.
Youth,confident in self, tampereth with dangerous dalliance,
Till the vice his heart once hated hath locked him in her foul embrace:
Manhood, through zeal of doing good, seeketh high place for its occasions,
Unwitting that the bleak mountain-air will nip the tender budding of his motives:
Or painfully, for love of truth, he climbeth the ladder of science,
Till pride of intellect heating his heart, warpeth it aside to delusion:
The maiden, to give shadow to her fairness, plaiteth her raven hair,
Heedlessly weaving for her soul the silken net of vanity:
The grey-beard looketh on his gold, till he loveth its yellow smile,
Unconscious of the bright decoy which is luring his heart unto avarice:
Wrath avoideth no quarrel, jealousy counteth its suspicions,
Pining envy gazeth still, and melancholy seeketh solitude,
The sensitive broodeth on his slights, the fearful poreth over horrors,
The train of wantonness is fired, the nerves of indecision are unstrung;
Each special proneness unto harm is pampered by ignorant indulgence,
And the man, for want of warning, yieldeth to the apt temptation.
A smithat the loom, and a weaver at the forge, were but sorry craftsmen;And a ship that saileth on every wind never shall reach her port:Yet there be thousands among men who heed not the leaning of their talents,But cutting against the grain, toil on to no good end;And the light of a thoughtful spirit is quenched beneath the bushel of commerce,While meaner plodding minds are driven up the mountain of philosophy:The cedar withereth on a wall, while the house-leek is fattening in a hot-bed,And the dock with its rank leaves hideth the sun from violets.To everything a fitting place, a proper honourable use;The humblest measure of mind is bright in its humble sphere:The glow-worm, creeping in the hedge, lighteth her evening torch,And her far-off mate, on gossamer sail, steereth his course by that star:But ignorance mocketh at proprieties, bringing out the glow-worm at noon;And setteth the faults of mediocrity in the full blaze of wisdom.Ravens croaking in darkness, and a 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 rein-deer for the snows,A naked skin for Ethiopia, and rich soft furs for the Pole:In all things is there a fitness: discord with discord hath its music;And the harmony of nature is preserved by each one knowing his place.
A smithat the loom, and a weaver at the forge, were but sorry craftsmen;
And a ship that saileth on every wind never shall reach her port:
Yet there be thousands among men who heed not the leaning of their talents,
But cutting against the grain, toil on to no good end;
And the light of a thoughtful spirit is quenched beneath the bushel of commerce,
While meaner plodding minds are driven up the mountain of philosophy:
The cedar withereth on a wall, while the house-leek is fattening in a hot-bed,
And the dock with its rank leaves hideth the sun from violets.
To everything a fitting place, a proper honourable use;
The humblest measure of mind is bright in its humble sphere:
The glow-worm, creeping in the hedge, lighteth her evening torch,
And her far-off mate, on gossamer sail, steereth his course by that star:
But ignorance mocketh at proprieties, bringing out the glow-worm at noon;
And setteth the faults of mediocrity in the full blaze of wisdom.
Ravens croaking in darkness, and a 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 rein-deer for the snows,
A naked skin for Ethiopia, and rich soft furs for the Pole:
In all things is there a fitness: discord with discord hath its music;
And the harmony of nature is preserved by each one knowing his place.
Theblind at an easel, the palsied with a graver, the halt making for the goal,The deaf ear tuning psaltery, the stammerer discoursing eloquence,—What wonder if all fail? the shaft flieth wide of the markAlike if itself be crooked, or the bow be strung awry;And the mind which were excellent in one way, but foolishly toileth in another,What is it but an ill-strung bow, and its aim a crooked arrow?By knowledge of self, thou provest thy powers: put not the racer to the plough,Nor goad the toilsome ox to wager his slowness with the fleet:Consider thy failings, heed thy propensities, search out thy latent virtues,Analyze the doubtful, cultivate the good, and crush the head of evil;So shalt thou catch with quick hand the golden ball of opportunity,The warrior armed shall be ready for the fray, beside his bridled steed;Thou shall 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 earn 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 splitteth the globe, shall not unthrone thy self-possession.
Theblind at an easel, the palsied with a graver, the halt making for the goal,
The deaf ear tuning psaltery, the stammerer discoursing eloquence,—
What wonder if all fail? the shaft flieth wide of the mark
Alike if itself be crooked, or the bow be strung awry;
And the mind which were excellent in one way, but foolishly toileth in another,
What is it but an ill-strung bow, and its aim a crooked arrow?
By knowledge of self, thou provest thy powers: put not the racer to the plough,
Nor goad the toilsome ox to wager his slowness with the fleet:
Consider thy failings, heed thy propensities, search out thy latent virtues,
Analyze the doubtful, cultivate the good, and crush the head of evil;
So shalt thou catch with quick hand the golden ball of opportunity,
The warrior armed shall be ready for the fray, beside his bridled steed;
Thou shall 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 earn 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 splitteth the globe, shall not unthrone thy self-possession.
Acquaintthee 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 serve thee;The teeming soil, and the buoyant sea, and undulating air,Golden crops, and bloomy fruits, and flowers, and precious gems,Choice perfumes and fair sights, soft touches and sweet music:For thee, shoaling up the bay, crowd the finny nations,For thee, the cattle on a thousand hills live, and labour, and die:Light is thy daily slave, darkness inviteth thee to slumber;Thou art served by the hands of Beauty, and Sublimity kneeleth at thy feet:Arise, thou sovereign of creation, and behold thy glory!Yet more, thou hast a mind; intellect wingeth thee to heaven,Tendeth thy state on earth, and by it thou divest down to hell;Thou hast measured the belts 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, yea, 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 born an heir of all, thy Master scarce could earn.O climax unto pride, O triumph of humanity,O triple crown upon thy brow, most high and mighty Self!Arise, thou Lord of all, thou greater than a God!—How saidst thou, wretched being?—cast thy glance within;Regard that painted sepulchre, the hovel of thy heart:Ha! with what fearful imagery swarmeth that small chamber;The horrid eye of murder, scowling in the dark,The bony hand of avarice, filching from the poor,The lurid fires of lust, the idiot face of folly,The sickening deed of cruelty, the foul fierce orgies of the drunken,Weak contemptible vanity, stubborn stolid unbelief,Envy's devilish sneer, and the vile features of ingratitude,—Man, hast thou seen enough? or are these full proofThat thou art a miracle of mercy, and all thy dignity is dross?
Acquaintthee 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 serve thee;
The teeming soil, and the buoyant sea, and undulating air,
Golden crops, and bloomy fruits, and flowers, and precious gems,
Choice perfumes and fair sights, soft touches and sweet music:
For thee, shoaling up the bay, crowd the finny nations,
For thee, the cattle on a thousand hills live, and labour, and die:
Light is thy daily slave, darkness inviteth thee to slumber;
Thou art served by the hands of Beauty, and Sublimity kneeleth at thy feet:
Arise, thou sovereign of creation, and behold thy glory!
Yet more, thou hast a mind; intellect wingeth thee to heaven,
Tendeth thy state on earth, and by it thou divest down to hell;
Thou hast measured the belts 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, yea, 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 born an heir of all, thy Master scarce could earn.
O climax unto pride, O triumph of humanity,
O triple crown upon thy brow, most high and mighty Self!
Arise, thou Lord of all, thou greater than a God!—
How saidst thou, wretched being?—cast thy glance within;
Regard that painted sepulchre, the hovel of thy heart:
Ha! with what fearful imagery swarmeth that small chamber;
The horrid eye of murder, scowling in the dark,
The bony hand of avarice, filching from the poor,
The lurid fires of lust, the idiot face of folly,
The sickening deed of cruelty, the foul fierce orgies of the drunken,
Weak contemptible vanity, stubborn stolid unbelief,
Envy's devilish sneer, and the vile features of ingratitude,—
Man, hast thou seen enough? or are these full proof
That thou art a miracle of mercy, and all thy dignity is dross?
Well,said the wisdom of earth, O mortal, know thyself;But better the wisdom of heaven, O man, learn thou thy God:By knowledge of self thou art conusant of evil, and mailed in panoply to meet it;By knowledge of God cometh knowledge of good, and universal love is at thy heart.Every creature knoweth its capacities, running in the road of 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 filleth with acceptance its niche in the temple of utility:But vainly wilt thou look for that knowledge, till the clue of all truth is in thy hand,For the labyrinth of man's heart windeth in complicate deceivings:Thou canst not sound its depths with the shallow plumb-line of reason,Till religion, the pilot of the soul, have lent thee her unfathomable coil:Therefore, for this grand knowledge, and knowledge is the parent of dominion,Learn God, thou shalt know thyself; yea, and shalt have mastery of all things.
Well,said the wisdom of earth, O mortal, know thyself;
But better the wisdom of heaven, O man, learn thou thy God:
By knowledge of self thou art conusant of evil, and mailed in panoply to meet it;
By knowledge of God cometh knowledge of good, and universal love is at thy heart.
Every creature knoweth its capacities, running in the road of 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 filleth with acceptance its niche in the temple of utility:
But vainly wilt thou look for that knowledge, till the clue of all truth is in thy hand,
For the labyrinth of man's heart windeth in complicate deceivings:
Thou canst not sound its depths with the shallow plumb-line of reason,
Till religion, the pilot of the soul, have lent thee her unfathomable coil:
Therefore, for this grand knowledge, and knowledge is the parent of dominion,
Learn God, thou shalt know thyself; yea, and shalt have mastery of all things.
Shameupon 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 deathOn the poor dumb servants of thy comfort, and yet must thou 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 pæan himself hath marred her psaltery,Shall he multiply the din of discord by overstraining all the strings?The 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 hast ruined;Earth and her million tribes are cursed for thy sake,Earth and her million tribes still writhe beneath thy cruelty:Liveth there but one among the million that shall not bear witness against thee,A pensioner of land or air or sea, that hath not whereof it will accuse thee?From the elephant toiling at a launch, to the shrew-mouse in the harvest-field,From the whale 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 labouring ox at plough;The speckled trout, basking in the shallow, and the partridge, gleaning in the stubble,And the stag at bay, and the 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.
Shameupon 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 dumb servants of thy comfort, and yet must thou 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 pæan himself hath marred her psaltery,
Shall he multiply the din of discord by overstraining all the strings?
The 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 hast ruined;
Earth and her million tribes are cursed for thy sake,
Earth and her million tribes still writhe beneath thy cruelty:
Liveth there but one among the million that shall not bear witness against thee,
A pensioner of land or air or sea, that hath not whereof it will accuse thee?
From the elephant toiling at a launch, to the shrew-mouse in the harvest-field,
From the whale 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 labouring ox at plough;
The speckled trout, basking in the shallow, and the partridge, gleaning in the stubble,
And the stag at bay, and the 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 thine by gift for thy needs, to be used in all gratitude and kindness;Gratitude to their God and thine,—their Father and thy Father,Kindness to them who toil for thee, and help thee with their all:For meat, but not by wantonness of slaying: for burden, but with limits of humanity;For luxury, but not through torture; for draught, but according to the strength:For a dog cannot plead his own right, nor render a reason for exemption,Nor give a soft answer unto wrath, to turn aside the undeserved lash;The galled ox cannot complain, nor supplicate a moment's respite;The spent horse hideth his distress, till he panteth out his spirit at the goal;Also, in the winter of life, when worn by constant toil,If ingratitude forget his services, he cannot bring them to remembrance;Behold, he is faint with hunger; the big tear standeth in his eye;His skin is sore with stripes, and he tottereth beneath his burden;His limbs are stiff with age, his sinews have lost their vigour,And pain is stamped upon his face, while 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 him? 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 indignation at his woes;Yea, all the pity upon earth shall call down a curse upon the cruel;Yea, the burning malice of the wicked is their own exceeding punishment.The Angel of Mercy stoppeth not to comfort, but passeth by on the other side,And hath no tear to shed, when a cruel man is damned.
Verily,they are all thine: freely mayst thou serve thee of them all:
They are thine by gift for thy needs, to be used in all gratitude and kindness;
Gratitude to their God and thine,—their Father and thy Father,
Kindness to them who toil for thee, and help thee with their all:
For meat, but not by wantonness of slaying: for burden, but with limits of humanity;
For luxury, but not through torture; for draught, but according to the strength:
For a dog cannot plead his own right, nor render a reason for exemption,
Nor give a soft answer unto wrath, to turn aside the undeserved lash;
The galled ox cannot complain, nor supplicate a moment's respite;
The spent horse hideth his distress, till he panteth out his spirit at the goal;
Also, in the winter of life, when worn by constant toil,
If ingratitude forget his services, he cannot bring them to remembrance;
Behold, he is faint with hunger; the big tear standeth in his eye;
His skin is sore with stripes, and he tottereth beneath his burden;
His limbs are stiff with age, his sinews have lost their vigour,
And pain is stamped upon his face, while 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 him? 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 indignation at his woes;
Yea, all the pity upon earth shall call down a curse upon the cruel;
Yea, the burning malice of the wicked is their own exceeding punishment.
The Angel of Mercy stoppeth not to comfort, but passeth by on the other side,
And hath no tear to shed, when a cruel man is damned.
Asfrost to the bud, and blight to the blossom, even such is self-interest to Friendship:For Confidence cannot dwell where Selfishness is porter at the gate.If thou see thy friend to be selfish, thou canst not be sure of his honesty;And in seeking thine own weal, thou hast wronged the reliance of thy friend.Flattery hideth her varnished face 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 purpose.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 life is in trifles, and though, in the weightier masses,A man refuse thee not his purse, nay his all in thine utmost need,Yet if thou canst not feel that his character agreeth with thine own,Thou never wilt call him friend, though thou render him a heartful of gratitude.A coarse man grindeth harshly the finer feelings of his brother;A common mind will soon depart from the dull companionship of wisdom;A weak soul dareth not to follow in the track of vigour and decision;And the worldly regardeth with scorn the seeming foolishness of faith.A mountain is made up of atoms, and friendship of little matters,And if the atoms hold not together, the mountain is crumbled into dust.
Asfrost to the bud, and blight to the blossom, even such is self-interest to Friendship:
For Confidence cannot dwell where Selfishness is porter at the gate.
If thou see thy friend to be selfish, thou canst not be sure of his honesty;
And in seeking thine own weal, thou hast wronged the reliance of thy friend.
Flattery hideth her varnished face 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 purpose.
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 life is in trifles, and though, in the weightier masses,
A man refuse thee not his purse, nay his all in thine utmost need,
Yet if thou canst not feel that his character agreeth with thine own,
Thou never wilt call him friend, though thou render him a heartful of gratitude.
A coarse man grindeth harshly the finer feelings of his brother;
A common mind will soon depart from the dull companionship of wisdom;
A weak soul dareth not to follow in the track of vigour and decision;
And the worldly regardeth with scorn the seeming foolishness of faith.
A mountain is made up of atoms, and friendship of little matters,
And if the atoms hold not together, 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 unravelling all his worth;And he dazzleth not thine eyes at first, to be darkened in thy sight afterward,But riseth from small beginnings, and reacheth the height of thine esteem.He remembereth that thou art only man; he expecteth not great things 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 strengthened 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 fulness of your souls,And being but men, as men, ye own to all the sympathies of manhood:Confidence openeth the lips, indulgence beameth from the eye,The tongue loveth not boasting, the heart is made glad with kindness:And one standeth not as on a hill, beckoning to the other to follow,But ye toil up hand in hand, and carry each other's burdens.Ye commune of hopes and aspirations, the fervent breathings of the heart,Ye speak with pleasant interchange the treasured secrets of affection,Ye listen to the voice of complaint, and whisper the language of comfort,And as in a double solitude, ye think in each other's hearing.
Come,I will show thee a friend; I will paint one worthy of thy trust:
Thine heart shall not weary of him: thou shalt not secretly despise him.
Thou art long in learning him, in unravelling all his worth;
And he dazzleth not thine eyes at first, to be darkened in thy sight afterward,
But riseth from small beginnings, and reacheth the height of thine esteem.
He remembereth that thou art only man; he expecteth not great things 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 strengthened 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 fulness of your souls,
And being but men, as men, ye own to all the sympathies of manhood:
Confidence openeth the lips, indulgence beameth from the eye,
The tongue loveth not boasting, the heart is made glad with kindness:
And one standeth not as on a hill, beckoning to the other to follow,
But ye toil up hand in hand, and carry each other's burdens.
Ye commune of hopes and aspirations, the fervent breathings of the heart,
Ye speak with pleasant interchange the treasured secrets of affection,
Ye listen to the voice of complaint, and whisper the language of comfort,
And as in a double solitude, ye think in each other's hearing.
Choosethy friend discreetly, and see thou consider his station,For the graduated scale of ranks accordeth with the ordinance of Heaven.If a low companion ripen to a friend, in the full sunshine of thy confidence,Know, that for old age thou hast heaped up sorrow;For thou sinkest to that level, and thy kin shall scorn thee,Yea, and the menial thou hast pampered haply shall neglect thee in thy death:And if thou reachest up to high estates, thinking to herd with princes,What art thou but a footstool, though so near a throne?O rush among the lilies, be taught thou art a weed,O briar among the cedars, hot contempt shall burn thee.But thou, friend and scholar, select from thine own caste,And make not an intimate of one, thy servant or thy master;For only friendship among men is the true republic,Where all have equality of service, and all have freedom of 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.
Choosethy friend discreetly, and see thou consider his station,
For the graduated scale of ranks accordeth with the ordinance of Heaven.
If a low companion ripen to a friend, in the full sunshine of thy confidence,
Know, that for old age thou hast heaped up sorrow;
For thou sinkest to that level, and thy kin shall scorn thee,
Yea, and the menial thou hast pampered haply shall neglect thee in thy death:
And if thou reachest up to high estates, thinking to herd with princes,
What art thou but a footstool, though so near a throne?
O rush among the lilies, be taught thou art a weed,
O briar among the cedars, hot contempt shall burn thee.
But thou, friend and scholar, select from thine own caste,
And make not an intimate of one, thy servant or thy master;
For only friendship among men is the true republic,
Where all have equality of service, and all have freedom of 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.
Absencestrengthened friendship, where the last recollections were kindly;But it must be good wine at the last, or absence shall weaken it daily.A rare thing is faith, and friendship is a marvel among men,Yet strange faces call they friends, and say they believe when they doubt.Those hours are not lost that are spent in cementing affection;For a friend is above gold, precious as the stores of the mind.Be sparing of advice by words, but teach thy lesson by example:For the vanity of man may be wounded, and retort unkindly upon thee.There be some that never had a friend, because they were gross and selfish;Worldliness, and apathy, and pride, leave not many that are worthy:But one who meriteth esteem, need never lack a friend:For as thistle-down flieth abroad, and casteth its anchor in the soil,So philanthropy yearneth for a heart, where it may take root and blossom.
Absencestrengthened friendship, where the last recollections were kindly;
But it must be good wine at the last, or absence shall weaken it daily.
A rare thing is faith, and friendship is a marvel among men,
Yet strange faces call they friends, and say they believe when they doubt.
Those hours are not lost that are spent in cementing affection;
For a friend is above gold, precious as the stores of the mind.
Be sparing of advice by words, but teach thy lesson by example:
For the vanity of man may be wounded, and retort unkindly upon thee.
There be some that never had a friend, because they were gross and selfish;
Worldliness, and apathy, and pride, leave not many that are worthy:
But one who meriteth esteem, need never lack a friend:
For as thistle-down flieth abroad, and casteth its anchor in the soil,
So philanthropy yearneth for a heart, where it may take root and blossom.
YetI hear the child of sensibility moaning at the wintry cold,Wherein the mists of selfishness have wrapped the society of men:He grieveth, and hath deep reasons; for falsehood hath wronged his trust,And the breaches in his bleeding heart have been filled with the briars of suspicion.For, alas, how few be friends, of whom charity hath hoped well!How few there be among men who forget themselves for other!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 carcase, assembled together for the feast;But a sudden noise scareth them, and forthwith are they specks among the clouds.There be few, O child of sensibility, who deserve to have thy 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 friendship,Yet verily the man is a marvel whom truth can write a friend.
YetI hear the child of sensibility moaning at the wintry cold,
Wherein the mists of selfishness have wrapped the society of men:
He grieveth, and hath deep reasons; for falsehood hath wronged his trust,
And the breaches in his bleeding heart have been filled with the briars of suspicion.
For, alas, how few be friends, of whom charity hath hoped well!
How few there be among men who forget themselves for other!
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 carcase, assembled together for the feast;
But a sudden noise scareth them, and forthwith are they specks among the clouds.
There be few, O child of sensibility, who deserve to have thy 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 friendship,
Yet verily the man is a marvel whom truth can write a friend.
Thereis a fragrant blossom, that maketh glad the garden of the heart;Its root lieth deep: it is delicate, yet lasting, as the lilac crocus of autumn:Loneliness and thought are the dews that water it morn and even;Memory and Absence cherish it, as the balmy breathings of the south:Its sun is the brightness of Affection, and it bloometh in the borders of Hope;Its companions are gentle flowers, and the briar withereth by its side.I saw it budding in beauty; I felt the magic of its smile;The violet rejoiced beneath it, the rose stooped down and kissed it;And I thought some cherub had planted there a truant flower of Eden,As a bird bringeth foreign seeds, that they may flourish in a kindly soil.I saw, and asked not its name; I knew no language was so wealthy,Though every heart of every clime findeth its echo within.And yet what shall I say? Is a sordid man capable of Love?Hath a seducer known it? Can an adulterer perceive it?Or he that seeketh strange women, can he feel its purity?Or he that changeth often, can he 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 Rhine among rivers;Lasting, and knowing not change—it walketh with Truth and Sincerity.
Thereis a fragrant blossom, that maketh glad the garden of the heart;
Its root lieth deep: it is delicate, yet lasting, as the lilac crocus of autumn:
Loneliness and thought are the dews that water it morn and even;
Memory and Absence cherish it, as the balmy breathings of the south:
Its sun is the brightness of Affection, and it bloometh in the borders of Hope;
Its companions are gentle flowers, and the briar withereth by its side.
I saw it budding in beauty; I felt the magic of its smile;
The violet rejoiced beneath it, the rose stooped down and kissed it;
And I thought some cherub had planted there a truant flower of Eden,
As a bird bringeth foreign seeds, that they may flourish in a kindly soil.
I saw, and asked not its name; I knew no language was so wealthy,
Though every heart of every clime findeth its echo within.
And yet what shall I say? Is a sordid man capable of Love?
Hath a seducer known it? Can an adulterer perceive it?
Or he that seeketh strange women, can he feel its purity?
Or he that changeth often, can he 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 Rhine among rivers;
Lasting, and knowing not change—it walketh with Truth and Sincerity.
Love:—what a volume in a word, an ocean in a tear,A seventh heaven in a glance, a whirlwind in a sigh,The lightning in a touch, a millennium in a moment,What concentrated joy or woe in blest or blighted love!For it is that native poetry springing up indigenous 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!Go, call thou snake-eyed malice mercy, call envy honest praise,Count selfish craft for wisdom, and coward treachery for prudence,Do homage to blaspheming unbelief 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:—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 millennium in a moment,
What concentrated joy or woe in blest or blighted love!
For it is that native poetry springing up indigenous 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!
Go, call thou snake-eyed malice mercy, call envy honest praise,
Count selfish craft for wisdom, and coward treachery for prudence,
Do homage to blaspheming unbelief 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.
Loveis a sweet idolatry enslaving all the soul,A mighty spiritual force, warring with the dulness of matter,An angel-mind breathed into a mortal, though fallen yet how beautiful!All the devotion of the heart in all its depth and grandeur.Behold that pale geranium, pent within the cottage window;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 loveth; and so the rose-tree of affectionBendeth its every leaf to look on those dear eyes,Its every blushing petal basketh in their light,And all its gladness, all its life, is hanging on their love.
Loveis a sweet idolatry enslaving all the soul,
A mighty spiritual force, warring with the dulness of matter,
An angel-mind breathed into a mortal, though fallen yet how beautiful!
All the devotion of the heart in all its depth and grandeur.
Behold that pale geranium, pent within the cottage window;
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 loveth; and so the rose-tree of affection
Bendeth its every leaf to look on those dear eyes,
Its every blushing petal basketh in their light,
And all its gladness, all its life, is hanging on their love.
Ifthe love of the heart is blighted, it buddeth not again:If that pleasant song is forgotten, it is to be learnt no more:Yet often will thought look back, and weep over early affection;And the dim notes of that pleasant song will be heard as a reproachful spirit,Moaning in Æolian strains over the desert of the heart,Where the hot siroccos of the world have withered its one oasis.
Ifthe love of the heart is blighted, it buddeth not again:
If that pleasant song is forgotten, it is to be learnt no more:
Yet often will thought look back, and weep over early affection;
And the dim notes of that pleasant song will be heard as a reproachful spirit,
Moaning in Æolian strains over the desert of the heart,
Where the hot siroccos of the world have withered its one oasis.
Seeka 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 knowest not His good will:—be thy prayer then submissive there-unto;And leave thy petition to His mercy, assured that 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 toucheth them not:They grow up leaning on each other, as the olive and the vine.Youth longeth for a kindred spirit, and yearneth for a heart that can commune with his own;He meditateth night and day, doting on the image of his fancy.Take heed that what charmeth thee is real, nor springeth of thine own imagination;And suffer not trifles to win thy love; for a wife is thine unto death.The harp and the voice may thrill thee,—sound may enchant thine ear,But consider thou, the hand will wither, and the sweet notes turn discord:The eye, so brilliant at even, may be red with sorrow in the morning;And the sylph-like form of elegance must writhe in the crampings of pain.
Seeka 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 knowest not His good will:—be thy prayer then submissive there-unto;
And leave thy petition to His mercy, assured that 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 toucheth them not:
They grow up leaning on each other, as the olive and the vine.
Youth longeth for a kindred spirit, and yearneth for a heart that can commune with his own;
He meditateth night and day, doting on the image of his fancy.
Take heed that what charmeth thee is real, nor springeth of thine own imagination;
And suffer not trifles to win thy love; for a wife is thine unto death.
The harp and the voice may thrill thee,—sound may enchant thine ear,
But consider thou, the hand will wither, and the sweet notes turn discord:
The eye, so brilliant at even, may be red with sorrow in the morning;
And the sylph-like form of elegance must writhe in the crampings of pain.
O happylot, and hallowed, even as the joy of angels,Where the golden chain of godliness is entwined with the roses of love:But beware thou seem not to be holy, to win favour in the eyes of a creature,For the guilt of the hypocrite is deadly, and winneth thee wrath elsewhere.The idol of thy heart is, as thou, a probationary sojourner on earth;Therefore be chary of her soul, for that is the jewel in her casket:Let her be a child of God, that she bring with her a blessing to thy house,—A blessing above riches, and leading contentment in its train:Let her be an heir of Heaven; so shall she help thee on 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—godliness, esteem, and affection.
O happylot, and hallowed, even as the joy of angels,
Where the golden chain of godliness is entwined with the roses of love:
But beware thou seem not to be holy, to win favour in the eyes of a creature,
For the guilt of the hypocrite is deadly, and winneth thee wrath elsewhere.
The idol of thy heart is, as thou, a probationary sojourner on earth;
Therefore be chary of her soul, for that is the jewel in her casket:
Let her be a child of God, that she bring with her a blessing to thy house,—
A blessing above riches, and leading contentment in its train:
Let her be an heir of Heaven; so shall she help thee on 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—godliness, esteem, and affection.
Howbeautiful is modesty! it winneth upon all beholders:But a word or a glance may destroy the pure love that should have been for thee.Affect not to despise beauty: no one is freed from its dominion;But regard it not a pearl of price:—it is fleeting as the bow in the clouds.If the character within be gentle, it often hath its index in the countenance:The soft smile of a loving face is better than splendour that fadeth quickly.When thou choosest a wife, think not only of thyself,But of those God may give thee of her, that they reproach thee not for their being: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 the glare of madness.
Howbeautiful is modesty! it winneth upon all beholders:
But a word or a glance may destroy the pure love that should have been for thee.
Affect not to despise beauty: no one is freed from its dominion;
But regard it not a pearl of price:—it is fleeting as the bow in the clouds.
If the character within be gentle, it often hath its index in the countenance:
The soft smile of a loving face is better than splendour that fadeth quickly.
When thou choosest a wife, think not only of thyself,
But of those God may give thee of her, that they reproach thee not for their being:
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 the glare of madness.
Markthe 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 wisdom? it is precious, but beware that thou exceed;For woman must be subject, and the true mastery is of the mind.Be joined to thine equal in rank, or the foot of pride will kick at thee;And look not only for riches, lest thou be mated with misery:Marry not without means; for so shouldst thou tempt Providence;But wait not for more than enough; for Marriage is theDUTYof most men:Grievous indeed must be the burden that shall outweigh innocence and health,And a well-assorted marriage hath not many cares.In the day of thy joy consider the poor; thou shall reap a rich harvest of blessing;For these be the pensioners of One who filleth thy cup with pleasures:In the day of thy joy be thankful: He hath well deserved thy praise:Mean and selfish is the heart that seeketh Him only in sorrow.For her sake who leaneth on thine arm, court not the notice of the world,And remember that sober privacy is comelier than public display.If thou marriest, thou art allied unto strangers; see they be not such as shame thee:If thou marriest, thou leavest thine own; see that it be not done in anger.
Markthe 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 wisdom? it is precious, but beware that thou exceed;
For woman must be subject, and the true mastery is of the mind.
Be joined to thine equal in rank, or the foot of pride will kick at thee;
And look not only for riches, lest thou be mated with misery:
Marry not without means; for so shouldst thou tempt Providence;
But wait not for more than enough; for Marriage is theDUTYof most men:
Grievous indeed must be the burden that shall outweigh innocence and health,
And a well-assorted marriage hath not many cares.
In the day of thy joy consider the poor; thou shall reap a rich harvest of blessing;
For these be the pensioners of One who filleth thy cup with pleasures:
In the day of thy joy be thankful: He hath well deserved thy praise:
Mean and selfish is the heart that seeketh Him only in sorrow.
For her sake who leaneth on thine arm, court not the notice of the world,
And remember that sober privacy is comelier than public display.
If thou marriest, thou art allied unto strangers; see they be not such as shame thee:
If thou marriest, thou leavest thine own; see that it be not done in anger.
Brideand bridegroom, pilgrims of life, henceforward to travel together,In this the beginning of your journey, neglect not the favour of Heaven:Let the day of hopes fulfilled be blest by many prayers,And at eventide kneel ye together, that 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.The wicked turneth good into evil, for his mind is warped within him;But the heart of the righteous is chaste: his conscience casteth off sin.If thou wilt be loved, render implicit confidence;If thou wouldst not suspect, receive full confidence in turn:For where trust is not reciprocal, the love that trusted withereth.Hide not your grief nor your gladness; be open one with the other;Let bitterness be strange unto your tongues, but sympathy a dweller in your hearts:Imparting halveth the evils, while it doubleth the pleasures of life,But sorrows breed and thicken in the gloomy bosom of Reserve.
Brideand bridegroom, pilgrims of life, henceforward to travel together,
In this the beginning of your journey, neglect not the favour of Heaven:
Let the day of hopes fulfilled be blest by many prayers,
And at eventide kneel ye together, that 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.
The wicked turneth good into evil, for his mind is warped within him;
But the heart of the righteous is chaste: his conscience casteth off sin.
If thou wilt be loved, render implicit confidence;
If thou wouldst not suspect, receive full confidence in turn:
For where trust is not reciprocal, the love that trusted withereth.
Hide not your grief nor your gladness; be open one with the other;
Let bitterness be strange unto your tongues, but sympathy a dweller in your hearts:
Imparting halveth the evils, while it doubleth the pleasures of life,
But sorrows breed and thicken in the gloomy bosom of Reserve.
Youngwife, be not froward, nor forget that modesty becometh thee:If it be discarded now, who will not hold it feigned before?But be not as a timid girl,—there is honour due to thine estate;A matron's modesty is dignified: she blusheth not, neither is she bold.Be kind to the friends of thine husband, for the love they have to him:And gently bear with his infirmities: hast thou no need of his forbearance?Be not always in each other's company; it is often good to be alone;And if there be too much sameness, ye cannot but grow weary of each other:Ye have each a soul to be nourished, and a mind to be taught in wisdom,Therefore, as accountable for time, help one another to improve it.If ye feel love to decline, track out quickly the secret cause;Let it not rankle for a day, but confess and bewail it together:Speedily seek to be reconciled, for love is the life of marriage;And be ye co-partners in triumph, conquering the peevishness of self.
Youngwife, be not froward, nor forget that modesty becometh thee:
If it be discarded now, who will not hold it feigned before?
But be not as a timid girl,—there is honour due to thine estate;
A matron's modesty is dignified: she blusheth not, neither is she bold.
Be kind to the friends of thine husband, for the love they have to him:
And gently bear with his infirmities: hast thou no need of his forbearance?
Be not always in each other's company; it is often good to be alone;
And if there be too much sameness, ye cannot but grow weary of each other:
Ye have each a soul to be nourished, and a mind to be taught in wisdom,
Therefore, as accountable for time, help one another to improve it.
If ye feel love to decline, track out quickly the secret cause;
Let it not rankle for a day, but confess and bewail it together:
Speedily seek to be reconciled, for love is the life of marriage;
And be ye co-partners in triumph, conquering the peevishness of self.
Letno one have thy confidence, O wife, saving thine husband:Have not a friend more intimate, O husband, than thy wife.In the joy of a well-ordered home be warned that this is not your rest;For the substance to come may be forgotten in the present beauty of the shadow.If ye are blessed with children, ye have a fearful pleasure,A deeper care and a higher joy, and the range of your existence is widened:If God in wisdom refuse them, thank Him for an unknown mercy:For how can ye tell if they might be a blessing or a curse?Yet ye may pray, like Hannah, simply dependent on His will:Resignation sweeteneth the cup, but impatience dasheth it with vinegar.Now this is the sum of the matter:—if ye will be happy in marriage,Confide, love, and be patient: be faithful, firm, and holy.
Letno one have thy confidence, O wife, saving thine husband:
Have not a friend more intimate, O husband, than thy wife.
In the joy of a well-ordered home be warned that this is not your rest;
For the substance to come may be forgotten in the present beauty of the shadow.
If ye are blessed with children, ye have a fearful pleasure,
A deeper care and a higher joy, and the range of your existence is widened:
If God in wisdom refuse them, thank Him for an unknown mercy:
For how can ye tell if they might be a blessing or a curse?
Yet ye may pray, like Hannah, simply dependent on His will:
Resignation sweeteneth the cup, but impatience dasheth it with vinegar.
Now this is the sum of the matter:—if ye will be happy in marriage,
Confide, love, and be patient: be faithful, firm, and holy.
A babein a house is a well-spring of pleasure, a messenger of peace and love:A resting place for innocence on earth; a link between angels and men:Yet is it a talent of trust, a loan to be rendered back with interest;A delight, but redolent of care; honey-sweet, but lacking not the bitter.For character groweth day by day, and all things aid it in unfolding,And the bent unto good or evil may be given in the hours of infancy:Scratch the green rind of a sapling, or wantonly twist it in the soil,The scarred and crooked oak will tell of thee for centuries to come;Even so mayst thou guide the mind to good, or lead it to the marrings of evil,For disposition is builded up by the fashioning of first impressions:Wherefore, though the voice of instruction waiteth for the ear of reason,Yet with his mother's milk the young child drinketh Education.Patience is the first great lesson; he may learn it at the breast:And the habit of obedience and trust may be grafted on his mind in the cradle:Hold the little hands in prayer, teach the weak knees their kneeling;Let him see thee speaking to thy God; he will not forget it afterward:When old and grey will he feelingly remember a mother's tender piety,And the touching recollection of her prayers shall arrest the strong man in his sin.
A babein a house is a well-spring of pleasure, a messenger of peace and love:
A resting place for innocence on earth; a link between angels and men:
Yet is it a talent of trust, a loan to be rendered back with interest;
A delight, but redolent of care; honey-sweet, but lacking not the bitter.
For character groweth day by day, and all things aid it in unfolding,
And the bent unto good or evil may be given in the hours of infancy:
Scratch the green rind of a sapling, or wantonly twist it in the soil,
The scarred and crooked oak will tell of thee for centuries to come;
Even so mayst thou guide the mind to good, or lead it to the marrings of evil,
For disposition is builded up by the fashioning of first impressions:
Wherefore, though the voice of instruction waiteth for the ear of reason,
Yet with his mother's milk the young child drinketh Education.
Patience is the first great lesson; he may learn it at the breast:
And the habit of obedience and trust may be grafted on his mind in the cradle:
Hold the little hands in prayer, teach the weak knees their kneeling;
Let him see thee speaking to thy God; he will not forget it afterward:
When old and grey will he feelingly remember a mother's tender piety,
And the touching recollection of her prayers shall arrest the strong man in his sin.
Selectnot to nurse thy darling one that may taint his innocence,For example is a constant monitor, and good seed will die among the tares.The arts of a strange servant have spoiled a gentle disposition:Mother, let him learn of thy lips, and be nourished at thy breast.Character is mainly moulded by the cast of the minds that surround it:Let then the playmates of thy little one be not other than thy judgment shall approve:For a child is in a new world, and learneth somewhat every moment,His eye is quick to observe, his memory storeth in secret,His ear is greedy of knowledge, and his mind is plastic as soft wax.Beware then that he heareth what is good, that he feedeth not on evil maxims,For the seeds of first instructions are dropped into the deepest furrows.That which immemorial use hath sanctioned, seemeth to be right and true;Therefore, let him never have to recollect the time when good things were strangers to his thought.Strive not to centre in thyself, fond mother, all his love;Nay, do not thou so selfishly, but enlarge his heart for others;Use him to sympathy betimes, that he learn to be sad with the afflicted;And check not a child in his merriment,—should not his morning be sunny?Give him not all his desire, so shalt thou strengthen him in hope;Neither stop with indulgence the fountain of his tears, so shall he fear thy firmness.Above all things graft on him subjection, yea, in the veriest trifle;Courtesy to all, reverence to some, and to thee unanswering obedience.
Selectnot to nurse thy darling one that may taint his innocence,
For example is a constant monitor, and good seed will die among the tares.
The arts of a strange servant have spoiled a gentle disposition:
Mother, let him learn of thy lips, and be nourished at thy breast.
Character is mainly moulded by the cast of the minds that surround it:
Let then the playmates of thy little one be not other than thy judgment shall approve:
For a child is in a new world, and learneth somewhat every moment,
His eye is quick to observe, his memory storeth in secret,
His ear is greedy of knowledge, and his mind is plastic as soft wax.
Beware then that he heareth what is good, that he feedeth not on evil maxims,
For the seeds of first instructions are dropped into the deepest furrows.
That which immemorial use hath sanctioned, seemeth to be right and true;
Therefore, let him never have to recollect the time when good things were strangers to his thought.
Strive not to centre in thyself, fond mother, all his love;
Nay, do not thou so selfishly, but enlarge his heart for others;
Use him to sympathy betimes, that he learn to be sad with the afflicted;
And check not a child in his merriment,—should not his morning be sunny?
Give him not all his desire, so shalt thou strengthen him in hope;
Neither stop with indulgence the fountain of his tears, so shall he fear thy firmness.
Above all things graft on him subjection, yea, in the veriest trifle;
Courtesy to all, reverence to some, and to thee unanswering obedience.