Part 9

Seams of thought for the sage's brow, and laughing lines for the fool's face; For all things leave their track in the mind; and the glass of the mind is faithful. Seest thou much mirth upon the cheek? there is then little exercise of virtue; For he that looketh on the world, cannot be glad and good: Seest thou much gravity in the eye? be not assured of finding wisdom; For she hath too great praise, not to get many mimics. There is a grave-faced folly; and verily, a laughter-loving wisdom; And what, if surface-judges account it vain frivolity? There is indeed an evil in excess, and a field may lie fallow too long; Yet merriment is often as a froth, that mantleth on the strong mind: And note thou this for a verity,--the subtlest thinker when alone, From ease of thoughts unbent, will laugh the loudest with his fellows: And well is the loveliness of wisdom mirrored in a cheerful countenance, Justly the deepest pools are proved by dimpling eddies; For that, a true philosophy commandeth an innocent life, And the unguilty spirit is lighter than a linnet's heart: Yea, there is no cosmetic like a holy conscience; The eye is bright with trust, the cheek bloomed over with affection, The brow unwrinkled by a care, and the lip triumphant in its gladness.

And for yon grave-faced folly, need not far to look for her; How seriously on trifles dote those leaden eyes, How ruefully she sigheth after chances long gone by, How sulkily she moaneth over evils without cure! I have known a true-born mirth, the child of innocence and wisdom, I have seen a base-born gravity, mingled of ignorance and guilt: And again, a base-born mirth, springing out of carelessness and folly; And again, a true-born gravity, the product of reflection and right fear. The wounded partridge hideth in a furrow, and a stricken conscience would be left alone; But when its breast is healed, it runneth gladly with its fellows: Whereas the solitary heron, standing in the sedgy fen, Holdeth aloof from the social world, intent on wiles and death.

Need but of light philosophy to dare the world's dread laugh; For a little mind courteth notoriety, to illustrate its puny self: But the sneer of a man's own comrades trieth the muscles of courage, And to be derided in his home is as a viper in the nest: The laugh of a hooting world hath in it a notion of sublimity, But the tittering private circle stingeth as a hive of wasps. Some have commended ridicule, counting it the test of truth, But neither wittily nor wisely; for truth must prove ridicule: Otherwise a blunt bulrush is to pierce the proof armour of argument, Because the stolidity of ignorance took it for a barbed shaft. Softer is the hide of the rhinoceros, than the heart of deriding unbelief, And truth is idler there, than the Bushman's feathered reed: A droll conceit parrieth a thrust, that should have hit the conscience, And the leering looks of humour tickle the childish mind; For that the matter of a man is mingled most with folly, Neither can he long endure the searching gaze of wisdom. It is pleasanter to see a laughing cheek than a serious forehead, And there liveth not one among a thousand whose idol is not pleasure. Ridicule is a weak weapon, when levelled at a strong mind: But common men are cowards, and dread an empty laugh. Fear a nettle, and touch it tenderly, its poison shall burn thee to the shoulder; But grasp it with a bold hand,--is it not a bundle of myrrh? Betray mean terror of ridicule, thou shalt find fools enough to mock thee; But answer thou their laughter with contempt, and the scoffers will lick thy feet.

OF COMMENDATION.

The praise of holy men is a promise of praise from their Master; A fore-running earnest of thy welcome,--Well done, faithful servant; A rich preludious note, that droppeth softly on thine ear, To tell thee the chords of thy heart are in tune with the choirs of heaven. Yet is it a dangerous hearing, for the sweetness may lull thee into slumber, And the cordial quaffed with thirst may generate the fumes of presumption. So seek it not for itself, but taste, and go gladly on thy way, 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 gorse 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 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.

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 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?

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 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.

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 fulness is his worth, in fulness 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 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.

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 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.

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 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.

Acquaint thee 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.

OF CRUELTY TO ANIMALS.

Shame upon 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.