For the mariner slacketh not his sail, though the sandal-groves of Araby

allure him;

And the fragrance of that incense would harm thee, as when, on a summer evening,

The honied yellow flowers of the broom oppress thy charmed sense: And a man hath too much of praise, for he praiseth himself continually; Neither lacketh he at any time self-commendation or excuse.

Praise a fool, and slay him: for the canvas of his vanity is spread;

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 shalt 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 judg-

ment:

For thou that dost so zealously commend, art acknowledging thine own inferiority,

And he, thou so highly hast exalted, shall proudly look down on thy

esteem.

Wilt thou that one remember a thing?—praise him in the midst of thy

advice;

Never yet forgat man the word whereby he hath been praised.

Better to be censured by a thousand fools, than reproved 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?

Expect not praise from the mean, neither gratitude from the selfish;
And to keep the proud thy friend, see thou do him not a service:
For, behold, he will hate thee for his debt: thou hast humbled him by
giving;

And his stubbornness never shall acknowledge the good he hath taken from thy hand:

Yea, rather will 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.

If a man hold fast to thy creed, and fit his thinking to thy notions,
Thou shalt take him for a man right-minded, yea, and excuse his evil :
But seest thou not, O bigot, that thy zeal is but a hunting after praise,
And the full pleasure of a proselyte lieth in the flattering of self?
A man of many praises meeteth many welcomes,

But he who blameth often, shall not keep a friend;

The velvet-coated apricot is one thing, and the spiked horse-chestnut 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.

Nothing but may be better, and every better might be best;

The blind may discern, and the simple prove, fault or want in all things; And a little mind looketh on the lily with a microscopic eye,

Eager and glad to pry out specks on its robe of purity;

But a great mind gazeth on the sun, glorying in his brightness,

And taking large knowledge of his good, in the broad prairie of creation:
What, though he hatch basilisks? what, though spots are on the sun?
In fullness is his worth, in fullness be his praise!

OF SELF-ACQUAINTANCE.

KNOWLEDGE holdeth 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 every where a stranger; unwelcome; ill at ease, and out of place.

A man is helpless and unsafe up to the measure of his ignorance,

For he lacketh perception of the aptitudes commending such a matter to his use,

Clutching at the horn of danger, while he judgeth it the handle of security, Or casting his anchor so widely, that the granite reef is just within 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 keystone 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 gray-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 smith at the loom, and a weaver at the forge, were but sorry craftsmen; And a ship that saileth on every wind never shall reach her port:

Yet there be thousands among men who heed not the leaning of their

talents,

But, cutting against the grain, toil on to no good end;

And the light of a thoughtful spirit is quenched beneath the bushel of

commerce,

While meaner plodding minds are driven up the mountain of philosophy: The cedar withereth on a wall, while the house-leek is fattening in a

hot-bed,

And the dock with its rank leaves hideth the sun from violets.
To every thing a fitting place, a proper honourable use;

The humblest measure of mind is bright in its humble sphere:
The glowworm, creeping in the hedge, lighteth her evening torch,
And her far-off mate, on gossamer sail, steereth his course by that star:
But ignorance mocketh at proprieties, bringing out the glowworm at noon,
And setteth the faults of mediocrity in the full blaze of wisdom.
Ravens croaking in darkness, and a skylark trilling to the sun,

The voice of a screech-owl from a ruin, and the blackbird's whistle in a wood,

A cushion-footed camel for the sands, and a swift reindeer for the snows,
A naked skin for Ethiopia, and rich soft furs for the Pole:

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.

The blind 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,