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The warrior that stood against a host, may be pierced unto death by

a needle;

And the saint that feareth not the fire, may perish the victim of a

thought.

A mote in the gunner's eye is as bad as a spike in the gun ;
And the cable of a furlong is lost through an ill-wrought inch.
The streams of small pleasures fill the lake of happiness;
And the deepest wretchedness of life is continuance of petty pains.
A fool observeth nothing, and seemeth wise unto himself;
A wise man heedeth all things, and in his own eyes is a fool:
He that wondereth at nothing hath no capabilities of bliss ;
But he that scrutinizeth trifles hath a store of pleasure to his hand.
If pestilence stalk through the land, ye say, This is God's doing;
Is it not also His doing, when an aphis creepeth on a rose-bud?
If an avalanche roll from its Alp, ye tremble at the will of Provi-
dence:

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Is not that will concerned when the sear leaves fall from the pop

lar?

A thing is great or little only to a mortal's thinking,

But abstracted from the body, all things are alike important:

The Ancient of Days noteth in his book the idle converse of a creature,

And happy and wise is the man to whose thought existeth not a trifle.

OF RECREATION.

To join advantage to amusement, to gather profit with pleasure,
Is the wise man's necessary aim, when he lieth in the shade of rec-

reation.

For he cannot fling aside his mind, nor bar up the floodgates of his wisdom;

Yea, though he strain after folly, his mental monitor shall check

him;

For knowledge and ignorance alike have laws essential to their

being,

The sage studieth amusements, and the simple laugheth in his

studies.

Few, but full of understanding, are the books of the library of

God,

And fitting for all seasons are the gain and the gladness they be

stow;

The volume of mystery and Grace, for the hour of deep commun

ings,

When the soul considereth intensely the startling marvel of itself; The book of destiny and Providence, for the time of sober study, When the mind gleaneth wisdom from the olive grove of history; And the cheerful pages of Nature, to gladden the pleasant holiday, When the task of duty is complete, and the heart swelleth high with satisfaction.

The soul may not safely dwell too long with the deep things of fu

turity;

The mind may not always be bent back, like the Parthian, straining at the past; (16)

And, if thou art wearied with wrestling on the broad arena of sci

ence,

Leave awhile thy friendly foe, half vanquished in the dust,

Refresh thy jaded limbs, return with vigor to the strife,

Thou shalt easier find thyself his master, for the vacant interval of leisure.

THAT which may profit and amuse is gathered from the volume of creation,

For every chapter therein teemeth with the playfulness of wisdom. The elements of all things are the same, though nature hath mixed them with a difference,

And Learning delighteth to discover the affinity of seeming oppo

sites:

So out of great things and small draweth he the secrets of the uni

verse,

And argueth the cycles of the stars from a pebble flung by a child. It is pleasant to note all plants, from the rush to the spreading ce

dar,

From the giant king of palms (17) to the lichen that staineth its

stem;

To watch the workings of instinct, that grosser reason of brutes, – The river-horse browsing in the jungle, the plover screaming on the

moor,

The cayman, basking on a mud-bank, and the walrus anchored to

an iceberg,

The dog at his master's feet, and the milk-kine lowing in the

meadow;

To trace the consummate skill that hath modelled the anatomy of

insects,

Small fowls that sun their wings on the petals of wild flowers ;

To learn a use in the beetle, and more than a beauty in the butter

fly;

To recognize affection in a moth, and look with admiration on a

spider.

1

It is glorious to gaze upon the firmament, and see from far the mansions of the blest,

Each distant shining world a kingdom for one of the redeemed;
To read the antique history of earth, stamped upon those medals in

the rocks,

Which Design hath rescued from decay, to tell of the green infancy of time;

To gather from the unconsidered shingle mottled starlike agates, Full of unstoried flowers in the bubbling bloom-chalcedony;

Or gay and curious shells, fretted with microscopic carving, Corallines, and fresh seaweeds, spreading forth their delicate branches.

It is an admirable lore, to learn the cause in the change,

To study the chemistry of Nature, her grand, but simple secrets,
To search out all her wonders, to track the resources of her skill,
To note her kind compensations, her unobtrusive excellence.
In all it is wise happiness to see the well-ordained laws of Jehovah,
The harmony that filleth all his mind, the justice that tempereth

his bounty,

The wonderful, all-prevalent analogy that testifieth one Creator, The broad arrow of the Great King, carved on all the stores of his arsenal.

But beware, O worshipper of God, thou forget not him in his deal

ings,

Though the bright emanations of his power hide him in created

glory;

For if, on the sea of knowledge, thou regardest not the pole-star of religion,

Thy bark will miss her port, and run upon the sand-bar of folly; And if, enamored of the means, thou considerest not the scope to

which they tend,

Wherein art thou wiser than the child, that is pleased with toys and baubles ?

Verily, a trifling scholar, thou heedest but the letter of instruction;
For as motive is spirit unto action, as memory endeareth place,
As the sun doth fertilize the earth, as affection quickeneth the
heart,

So is the remembrance of God in the varied wonders of creation.

MAN hath found out inventions to cheat him of the weariness of life,

To help him to forget realities, and hide the misery of guilt.

For love of praise, and hope of gain, for passion and delusive hap

piness,

He joineth the circle of folly, and heapeth on the fire of excitement;

Oftentimes sadly out of heart at the tiresome insipidity of pleasure, Oftentimes laboring in vain, convinced of the palpable deceit :

Yet a man speaketh to his brother in the voice of glad congratulation,

And thinketh others happy though he himself be wretched;

And hand joineth hand to help in the toil of amusement,

While the secret aching heart is vacant of all but disappointment. -The cheapest pleasures are the best; and nothing is more costly

than sin;

Yet we mortgage futurity, counting it but little loss:

Neither can a man delight in that which breedeth sorrow,

Yet do we hunt for joy even in the fires that consume it.

Whoso would find Gladness may meet her in the hovel of poverty, Where Benevolence hath scattered around the gleanings of the horn of plenty;

Whoso would sun himself in Peace, may be seen of her in deeds of

mercy,

When the pale, lean cheek of the destitute is wet with grateful

tears.

If the mind is wearied by study, or the body worn with sickness,
It is well to lie fallow for a while, in the vacancy of sheer amuse-

ment;

But when thou prosperest in health, and thine intellect can soar untired,

To seek uninstructive pleasure is to slumber on the couch of indo

lence.

THE TRAIN OF RELIGION.

STAY awhile, thou blessed band! be entreated, daughters of heaven! While the chance-met scholar of Wisdom learneth your sacred

names:

He is resting a little from his toil, yet a little on the borders of earth, And fain would he have you his friends, to bid him glad welcome

hereafter.

Who among the glorious art thou, that walkest a Goddess and a

Queen,

Thy crown of living stars, and a golden cross thy sceptre?

Who among flowers of loveliness is she, thy seeming herald,

Yet she boasteth not thee nor herself, and her garments are plain in their neatness?

Wherefore is there one among the train, whose eyes are red with weeping,

Yet is her open forehead beaming with the sun of ecstasy?

And who is that blood-stained warrior, with glory sitting on his

crest?

And who that solemn sage, calm in majestic dignity?

Also, in the lengthening troop see I some clad in robes of triumph, Whose fair and sunny faces I have known and loved on earth: Welcome, ye glorified Loves, Graces, and Sciences, and Muses, That, like sisters of charity, tended in this world's hospital; Welcome, for verily I knew ye could not but be children of the

light,

Though earth hath soiled your robes, and robbed you of half your glory;

Welcome, chiefly welcome, for I find I have friends in heaven,

And some I might scarce have looked for, as thou, light-hearted Mirth;

Thou also, star-robed Urania; and thou, with the curious glass, That rejoicedst in tracking wisdom where the eye was too dull to

note it;

And art thou too among the blessed, mild, much-injured Poetry? Who quickenest with light and beauty the leaden face of matter, Who, not unheard, though silent, fillest earth's gardens with music,

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