Part 21

Faith may rise into miracles of might, as some few wise have shown: Faith may sink into credulities of weakness, as the mass of fools have witnessed. Therefore, in the first, saints and martyrs have fulfilled their mission, Conquering dangers, courting deaths, and triumphing in all. Therefore, in the last, the magician and the witch, victims of their own delusion, Have gained the bitter wages of impracticable sins. They believed in allegiance with Satan; they worked in that belief, And thereby earned the loss and harm of guilt that might not be. For, faith hath two hands; with the one it addeth virtue to indifferents; Yea, it sanctified a Judith and a Jael, for what otherwise were treachery and murder: With the other hand it heapeth crime even on impossibles or simples, And many a wizard well deserved the faggot for his faith: He trusted in his intercourse with evil, he sacrificed heartily to fiends, He withered up with curses to the limit of his will, and was vile, because he thought himself a villain.

A great mind is ready to believe, for he hungereth to feed on facts, And the gnawing stomach of his ignorance craveth unceasing to be filled: A little mind is boastful and incredulous, for he fancieth all knowledge is his own, So will he cavil at a truth; how should it be true, and he not know it?-- There is an easy scheme, to solve all riddles by the sensual, And thus, despising mysteries, to feel the more sufficient; For it comforteth the foul hard heart, to reject the pure unseen, And relieveth the dull soft head, to hinder one from gazing upon vacancy. True wisdom, labouring to expound, heareth others readily; False wisdom, sturdy to deny, closeth up her mind to argument. The sum of certainties is found so small, their field so wide an universe, That many things may truly be, which man hath not conceived: The characters revealed of God are a strong mind's sole assurance That any strangeness may not stand a sober theme for faith. Ignorance being light denied, this ought to show the stronger in its view, But ignorance is commonly a double negative, both of light and morals: So, adding vanity to blindness, for ease, it taketh refuge in a doubt, And aching soon with ceaseless doubt, it finisheth the strife by misbelieving.

Faith, by its very nature, shall embrace both credence and obedience: Yea, the word for both is one, and cannot be divided. For, work void of faith, wherein can it be counted for a duty; And faith not seen in work,--whereby can the doctrine be discovered? Faith in religion is an instrument; a handle, and the hand to turn it: Less a condition than a mean, and more an operation than a virtue. A moral sickness, like to sin, must have a moral cure; And faith alone can heal the mind, whose malady is sense. Ye are told of God's deep love: they that believe will love Him: They that love Him, will obey: and obedience hath its blessing. Ye are taught of the soul's great price; they that believe will prize it, And, prizing soul, will cherish well the hopes that make it happy. Effects spring from feelings; and feelings grow of faith: If a man conceive himself insulted, will not his anger smite? Thus, let a soul believe his state, his danger, destiny, redemption, Will he not feel eager to be safe, like him that kept the prison at Philippi?

A mother had an only son, and sent him out to sea: She was a widow, and in penury; and he must seek his fortunes. How often in the wintry nights, when waves and winds were howling, Her heart was torn with sickening dread, and bled to see her boy. And on one sunny morn, when all around was comfort, News came, that weeks agone, the vessel had been wrecked; Yea, wrecked, and he was dead! they had seen him perish in his agony: Oh then, what agony was like to her's,--for she believed the tale. She was bowed and broken down with sorrow, and uncomforted in prayer; Many nights she mourned, and pined, and had no hope but death. But on a day, while sorely she was weeping, a stranger broke upon her loneliness,-- He had news to tell, that weather-beaten man, and must not be denied: And what were the wonder-working words that made this mourner joyous, That swept her heaviness away, and filled her world with praise? Her son was saved,--is alive,--is near!--O did she stop to question? No, rushing in the force of faith, she met him at the door!

OF HONESTY.

All is vanity that is not honesty;--thus is it graven on the tomb: And there is no wisdom but in piety;--so the dead man preacheth: For, in a simple village church, among those classic shades Which sylvan Evelyn loved to rear, (his praise, and my delight,) These, the words of truth, are writ upon his sepulchre Who learnt much lore, and knew all trees, from the cedar to the hyssop on the wall. A just conjunction, godliness and honesty; ministering to both worlds, Well wed, and ill to be divided, a pair that God hath joined together. I touch not now the vulgar thought, as of tricks and cheateries in trade; I speak of honest purpose, character, speech and action. For an honest man hath special need of charity, and prudence, Of a deep and humbling self-acquaintance, and of blessed commerce with his God, So that the keennesses of truth may be freed from asperities of censure, And the just but vacillating mind be not made the pendulum of arguments: For a false reason, shrewdly put, can often not be answered on the instant, And prudence looketh unto faith, content to wait solutions; Yea, it looketh, yea, it waiteth, still holding honesty in leash, Lest, as a hot young hound, it track not game, but vermin. Many a man of honest heart, but ignorant of self and God, Hath followed the marsh-fires of pestilence, esteeming them the lights of truth; He heard a cause, which he had not skill to solve,--and so received it gladly; And that cause brought its consequence, of harm to an unstable soul. Prudence, for a man's own sake, never should be separate from honesty; And charity, for other's good, and his, must still be joined therewith: For the harshly chiding tongue hath neither pleasuring nor profit, And the cold unsympathizing heart never gained a good. Sin is a sore, and folly is a fever; touch them tenderly for healing; The bad chirurgeon's awkward knife harmeth, spite of honesty. Still, a rough diamond is better than the polished paste,-- That courteous flattering fool, who spake of vice as virtue: And honesty, even by itself, though making many adversaries Whom prudence might have set aside, or charity have softened, Evermore will prosper at the last, and gain a man great honour By giving others many goods, to his own cost and hindrance.

Freedom is father of the honest, and sturdy Independence is his brother; These three, with heart and hand, dwell together in unity. The blunt yeoman, stout and true, will speak unto princes unabashed: His mind is loyal, just and free, a crystal in its plain integrity; What should make such an one ashamed? where courtiers kneel, he standeth;-- I will indeed bow before the king, but knees were knit for God. And many such there be, of a high and noble conscience, Honourable, generous, and kind, though blest with little light: What should he barter for his Freedom? some petty gain of gold? Free of speech, and free in act, magnates honour him for boldness: Long may he flourish in his peace, and a stalwarth race around him, Rooted in the soil like oaks, and hardy as the pine upon the mountains!

Yet, there be others, that will truckle to a lie, selling honesty for interest: And do they gain?--they gain but loss; a little cash, with scorn. Behold, the sorrowful change wrought upon a fallen nature: He hath lost his own esteem, and other men's respect; For the buoyancy of upright faith, he is clothed in the heaviness of cringing; For plain truth where none could err, he hath chosen tortuous paths; In lieu of his majesty of countenance--the timorous glances of servility; Instead of Freedom's honest pride,--the spirit of a slave.

Nevertheless, there is something to be pleaded, even for a necessary guile, Whilst the world, and all that is therein, lieth deep in evil. Who can be altogether honest,--a champion never out of mail, Ready to break a lance for truth with every crowding error? Who can be altogether honest,--dragging out the secresies of life, And risking to be lashed and loathed for each unkind disclosure? Who can be altogether honest,--living in perpetual contentions, And prying out the petty cheats that swell the social scheme? For he must speak his instant mind,--a mind corrupt and sinful, Exhibiting to other men's disgust its undisguised deformities: He must utter all the hatred of his heart, and add to it the venom of his tongue; Shall he feel, and hide his feelings? that were the meanness of a hypocrite:-- Still, O man, such hypocrisy is better, than this bold honesty to sin: Kill the feeling, or conceal it: let shame at least do the work of charity.

O charity, thou livest not in warnings, meddling among men, Rebuking every foolish word, and censuring small sins; This is not thy secret,--rather wilt thou hide their multitude, And silence the condemning tongue, and wearisome exhortation. But for thee, thy strength and zeal shine in encouragement to good, Lifting up the lantern of ensample, that wanderers may find the way: That lantern is not lit to gaze on all the hatefulness of evil, But set on high for life and light, the loveliness of good. The hard censorious mind sitteth as a keen anatomist Tracking up the fibres in corruption, and prying on a fearful corpse: But the charitable soul is a young lover, enamoured little wisely, That saw no fault in her he loved, and sought to see one less; So, in his kind and genial light, she grew more worthy of his love; Won to good by gentle suns, and not by frowning tempest.

Verily, infirm thyself,--be slow to chide a brother's imperfections; For many times the decent veil must hang on faults of nature: And the rude hands, that rend it, offend against the modesty of right, While seeming zeal, and its effort to do good, is only feigned self-praise: Often will the meannesses of life, hidden away in corners, Prove wisdom; and the generous is glad to leave them unregarded in the shade. The follies none are found to praise, let them die unblamed; Thine honest strife will only tend to make some think them wise: And small conventional deceits, let them live uncensured: Or if thou war with pigmies, thou shalt haply help the cranes. Where to be blind was safety, Ovid had been wise for winking: And when a tell-tale might do harm, be sure it is prudent to be dumb; That which is just and fit is often found combating with honesty: In the cause of good, be wise; and in a case indifferent, keep silence.

Let honesty's unblushing face be shaded by the mantle of humility, So shall it shine a lamp of love, and not the torch of strife: Otherwise the lantern of Diogenes, presumptuously thrust before the face, If it never find an honest man, shall often make an angered. Let honesty be companied by charity of heart, lest it walk unwelcome; Or the mouthing censor of others and himself, soon shall sink to scorn. Let honesty be added unto innocence of life: then a man may only be its martyr; But if openness of speech be found with secresy of guilt, the martyr will be seen a malefactor.

There is a cunning scheme, to put on surface bluntness, And cover still deep water, with the clamorous ripples of a shallow. For a man, to gain his selfish ends, will make a stalking-horse of honesty; And hide his poaching limbs behind, that he may cheat the quicker. Such an one is loud and ostentatious, full of oaths for argument, Boastful of honour and sincerity, and not to be put down by facts: He is obstinate, and sheweth it for firmness; he is rude, displaying it for truth; And glorieth in doggedness of temper, as if it were uncompromising justice. Be aware of such a man; his brawling covereth designs; This specious show of honesty cometh as the herald of a thief: His feint is made with awkward clashing on the buckler's boss, But meanwhile doth his secret skill ensure its fatal aim. This is the hypocrite of honesty; ye may know him by an overacted part; Taking pains to turn and twist, where other men walk straight; Or walking straight, he will not step aside to let another pass, But roughly pusheth on, provoking opposition on the way; He is full of disquietude for calmness, full of intriguing for simplicity, Valorous with those who cannot fight, and humble to the brave: Where brotherly advice were good, this man rudely blameth, And on some small occasion, flattereth with coarse praise. The craven in a lion's skin hath conquered by his character for courage; Sheep's clothing helped the wolf, till he slew by his character for kindness.

For honesty hath many gains, and well the wise have known This will prosper to the end, and fill their house with gold. The phosphorus of cheatery will fade, and all its profits perish, While honesty with growing light endureth as the moon. Yea, it would be wise in a world of thieves, where cheating were a virtue, To dare the vice of honesty, if any would be rich. For that which by the laws of God is heightened into duty, Ever, in the practice of a man, will be seen both policy and privilege. Thank God, ye toilers for your bread, in that, daily labouring, He hath suffered the bubbles of self-interest to float upon the stream of duty: For honesty, of every kind, approved by God and man, Of wealth and better weal is found the richest cornucopia. Tempered by humbleness and charity, honesty of speech hath honour; And mingled well with prudence, honesty of purpose hath its praise: Trust payeth homage unto truth, rewarding honesty of action: And all men love to lean on him, who never failed nor fainted. Freedom gloweth in his eyes, and Nobleness of nature at his heart, And Independence took a crown and fixed it on his head: So, he stood in his integrity, just and firm of purpose, Aiding many, fearing none, a spectacle to angels, and to men: Yea,--when the shattered globe shall rock in the throes of dissolution, Still, will he stand in his integrity, sublime--an honest man.

OF SOCIETY.

Better is the mass of men, Suspicion, than thy fears, Kinder than thy thoughts, O chilling heart of Prudence, Purer than thy judgments, ascetic tongue of Censure, In all things worthier to love, if not also wiser to esteem. Yea, let the moralist condemn, there be large extenuations of his verdict, Let the misanthrope shun men and abjure, the most are rather loveable than hateful. How many pleasant faces shed their light on every side, How many angels unawares have crossed thy casual way! How often, in thy journeyings, hast thou made thee instant friends, Found, to be loved a little while, and lost, to meet no more; Friends of happy reminiscence, although so transient in their converse, Liberal, cheerful, and sincere, a crowd of kindly traits. I have sped by land and sea, and mingled with much people, But never yet could find a spot, unsunned by human kindness; Some more, and some less,--but truly all can claim a little; And a man may travel through the world, and sow it thick with friendships.

There be indeed, to say it in all sorrow, bad apostate souls, Deserted of their ministering angels, and given up to liberty of sin,-- And other some, the miserly and mean, whose eyes are keen and greedy, With stony hearts, and iron fists, to filch and scrape and clutch,-- And others yet again, the coarse in mind, selfish, sensual, brutish, Seeming as incapable of softer thoughts, and dead to better deeds; Such, no lover of the good, no follower of the generous and gentle, Can nearer grow to love, than may consist with pity. Few verily are these among the mass, and cast in fouler moulds, Few and poor in friends, and well-deserving of their poverty: Yet, or ever thou hast harshly judged, and linked their presence to disgust, Consider well the thousand things that made them all they are. Thou hast not thought upon the causes, ranged in consecutive necessity, Which tended long to these effects, with sure constraining power. For each of those unlovely ones, if thou couldst hear his story, Hath much to urge of just excuse, at least as men count justice: Foolish education, thwarted opportunities, natural propensities unchecked,-- Thus were they discouraged from all good, and pampered in their evil; And, if thou wilt apprehend them well, tenderly looking on temptations, Bearing the base indulgently, and liberally dealing with the froward, Thou shalt discern a few fair fruits even upon trees so withered, Thou shalt understand how some may praise, and some be found to love them.

Nevertheless for these, my counsel is, Avoid them if thou canst; For the finer edges of thy virtues will be dulled by attrition with their vice. And there is an enemy within thee; either to palliate their sin, Until, for surface-sweetness, thou too art drawn adown the vortex; Or, even unto fatal pride, to glorify thy purity by contrast, Until the publican and harlot stand nearer heaven than the Pharisee: Or daily strife against their ill, in subtleness may irritate thy soul, And in that struggle thou shall fail, even through infirmity of goodness; Or, callous by continuance of injuries, thou wilt cease to pardon, Cease to feel, and cease to care, a cold case-hardened man. Beware of their example,--and thine own; beware the hazards of the battle; But chiefly be thou ware of this, an unforgiving spirit. Many are the dangers and temptations compassing a bad man's presence; The upas hath a poisonous shade, and who would slumber there? Wherefore, avoid them if thou canst; only, under providence and duty, If thy lot be cast with Kedar, patiently and silently live to their rebuke.

How beautiful thy feet, and full of grace thy coming, O better kind companion, that art well for either world! There is an atmosphere of happiness floating round that man, Love is throned upon his heart, and light is found within his dwelling: His eyes are rayed with peacefulness, and wisdom waiteth on his tongue; Seek him out, cherish him well, walking in the halo of his influence: For he shall be fragrance to thy soul, as a garden of sweet lilies, Hedged and apart from the outer world, an island of the blest among the seas.

There is an outer world, and there is an inner centre; And many varying rings concentric round the self. For, first, about a man,--after his communion with Heaven,-- Is found the helpmate even as himself, the wife of his vows and his affections: See then that ye love in faith, scorning petty jealousies, For Satan spoileth too much love, by souring it with doubts; See that intimacy die not to indifference, nor anxiety sink into moroseness, And tend ye well the mutual minds bound in a copartnership for life.

Next of those concentric circles, radiating widely in circumference, Wheel in wheel, and world in world,--come the band of children: A tender nest of soft young hearts, each to be separately studied, A curious eager flock of minds, to be severally tamed and tutored. And a man, blest with these, hath made his own society, He is independent of the world, hanging on his friends more loosely: For the little faces round his hearth are friends enow for him, If he seek others, it is for sake of these, and less for his own pleasure. What companionship so sweet, yea, who can teach so well As these pure budding intellects, and bright unsullied hearts? What voice so musical as theirs, what visions of elegance so comely, What thoughts and hopes and holy prayers, can others cause like these? If ye count society for pastime,--what happier recreation than a nurseling, Its winning ways, its prattling tongue, its innocence and mirth? If ye count society for good,--how fair a field is here, To guide these souls to God, and multiply thyself for heaven! And this sweet social commerce with thy children groweth as their growth, Unless thou fail of duty, or have weaned them by thine absence. Keep them near thee, rear them well, guide, correct, instruct them; And be the playmate of their games, the judge in their complainings. So shall the maiden and the youth love thee as their sympathizing friend, And bring their joys to share with thee, their sorrows for consoling: Yea, their inmost hopes shall yearn to thee for counsel, They will not hide their very loves, if thou hast won their trust; But, even as man and woman, shall they gladly seek their father, Feeling yet as children feel, though void of fear in honour: And thou shall be a Nestor in the camp, the just and good old man, Hearty still, though full of years, and held the friend of all; No secret shall be kept from thee; for if ill, thy wisdom may repair it; If well, thy praise is precious; and they would not miss that prize. O the blessing of a home, where old and young mix kindly, The young unawed, the old unchilled, in unreserved communion! O that refuge from the world, when a stricken son or daughter May seek, with confidence of love, a father's hearth and heart; Sure of a welcome, though others cast them out; of kindness, though men scorn them; And finding there the last to blame, the earliest to commend. Come unto me, my son, if sin shall have tempted thee astray, I will not chide thee like the rest, but help thee to return; Come unto me, my son, if men rebuke and mock thee, There always shall be one to bless,--for I am on thy side!