{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_8450/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_8450","id":"gutenberg_8450","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/8450","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Character"],"text":"Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Tiffany Vergon, David Widger,\nand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team\n\n\n\n\nTHE\n\nELEMENTS OF CHARACTER.\n\nBY\n\nMARY G. CHANDLER.\n\n\"An exclusively intellectual education leads, by a very obvious process,\nto hard-heartedness and the contempt of all moral influences. An\nexclusively moral education tends to fatuity by the over-excitement of\nthe sensibilities. An exclusively religious education ends in\ninsanity, if it do not take a directly opposite course and lead to\natheism.\"--EDINBURGH REVIEW.\n\n\n1854\n\nTHE REV. E.H. SEARS, MY FORMER PASTOR,\n\n\nUNDER WHOSE SPIRITUAL GUIDANCE AND INSTRUCTION, MY MIND LEARNED TO DWELL\nUPON RELIGIOUS THEMES WITH PLEASURE, WHILE MY HEART FOUND PEACE IN\nBELIEVING.\n\nTHIS VOLUME IS INSCRIBED, AS A TRIBUTE OF GRATEFUL AFFECTION, BY\nTHE AUTHOR.\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\nCHARACTER.\nTHE HUMAN TRINITY.\nTHOUGHT.\nIMAGINATION.\nAFFECTION.\nLIFE.\nCONVERSATION.\nMANNERS.\nCOMPANIONSHIP.\nCHARACTER.\n\n\n\n\"We have been taught, consciously or unconsciously, intentionally or\nunintentionally, to seek rather what virtue gives than what virtue is;\nthe reward rather than the service, the felicity rather than the life,\nthe dowry, let me say, rather than the bride.\"--T.T. STONE.\n\n\"His practice was of a more divine extraction, drawn from the word of\nGod, and wrought up by the assistance of his Spirit; therefore, in the\nhead of all his virtues I shall set that which was the head and spring\nof them all, his Christianity; for this alone is the true royal blood\nthat runs through the whole body of virtue, and every pretender to that\nglorious family, who has no tincture of it, is an impostor. This is that\nsame fountain which baptizeth all the gentle virtues that so immortalize\nthe names of the old philosophers; herein they are regenerated, and take\na new name and nature. Dug up in the wilderness of nature, and dipped\nin this living spring, they are planted and flourish in the paradise of\nGod. By Christianity I intend that universal habit of grace which is\nwrought in a soul by the regenerating Spirit of God, whereby the whole\ncreature is resigned up into the divine will and love, and all its\nactions directed to the obedience and glory of its Maker.\"--MEMOIRS OF\nCOL. HUTCHINSON, BY HIS WIDOW.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe weakness and helplessness of humanity, in relation to the fortunes\nof this life, have been a favorite theme with philosophers and teachers\never since the world began; and every term expressive of all that is\nuncertain, insubstantial, and unstable has been exhausted in describing\nthe feebleness of man's power to retain in possession the good things of\nthis life, or even life itself. However firmly the hand of man may seem\nto grasp power, reputation, or wealth; however numerous may be the band\nof children or friends that surrounds him, he has no certainty that he\nmay not die friendless and a pauper. In fact, the most brilliant success\nin life seems sometimes to be permitted only that it may make the\ndarkness of succeeding reverses the more profound.\n\nWeak and helpless as we may be in the affairs of this life, there is,\nhowever, one thing over which we have entire control. Riches may take\nto themselves wings, though honest industry exert its best efforts to\nacquire and retain them; power is taken away from hands that seek to\nuse it only for the good of those they govern; reputation may become\ntarnished, though virtue be without spot; health may vanish, though its\nlaws, so far as we understand them, be strictly obeyed; but there is one\nthing left which misfortune cannot touch, which God is ever seeking to\naid us in building up, and over which he permits us to hold absolute\ncontrol; and this is Character. For this, and for this alone, we are\nentirely responsible. We may fail in all else, let our endeavors be\nearnest and patient as they may; but all other failures touch us only in\nour external lives. If we have used our best endeavors to attain success\nin the pursuit of temporal objects, we are not responsible though we\nfail. But if we do not succeed in attaining true health and wealth\nand power of Character, the responsibility is all our own; and the\nconsequences of our failure are not bounded by the shores of time, but\nstretch onward through the limitless regions of eternity. If we strive\nfor this, success is certain, for the Lord works with us to will and to\ndo. If we do not strive, it were better for us that we had never been\nborn.\n\nCharacter is all we can take with us when we leave this world. Fortune,\nlearning, reputation, power, must all be left behind us in the region of\nmaterial things; but Character, the spiritual substance of our being,\nabides with us for ever. According as the possessions of this world have\naided in building up Character,--forming it to the divine or to the\ninfernal image,--they have been cursings or blessings to the soul.\n\nBefore we can understand how Character is to be built up, we must come\nto a distinct faith in its reality; we must learn to feel that it is\nmore real than anything else that we possess; for surely that which is\neternal is more real than that which is merely temporal; it may, indeed,\nbe doubted whether that which is merely temporal has any just claim to\nbe called real.\n\nMany persons confound reputation with Character, and believe themselves\nto be striving for the reality of the one, when the fantasy of the other\nalone stimulates their desires. Reputation is the opinion entertained of\nus by our fellow- beings, while Character is that which we really are.\nWhen we labor to gain reputation, we are not even taking a first step\ntoward the acquisition of Character, but only putting on coverings over\nthat which is, and protecting it against improvement. As well may we\nstrive to be virtuous by thinking of the reward of heaven, as to build\nup our Characters by thinking of the opinions of men. The cases are\nprecisely parallel. In each we are thinking of the pay as something\napart from the work, while, in fact, the only pay we can have inheres in\nthe doing of the work. Virtue is its own reward, because its performance\ncreates the kingdom of heaven within us, and we cannot attain to virtue\nuntil we strive after it for its own sake.\n\nA wisely trained Character never stops to ask, What will society think\nof me if I do this thing, or if I leave it undone? The questions by\nwhich it tests the quality of an action are, whether it is just, and\nwise, and fitting, when judged by the eternal laws of right; and in\naccordance with this judgment will its manifestations ever be made. If\nthe mind acquires the habit of deliberately asking and answering these\nquestions in regard to common affairs, it acquires, by degrees, distinct\nopinions in relation to life, forming a regular system, in accordance\nwith which the Character is shaped and built up; and unless this be\ndone, the Character cannot become consistent and harmonious. It is never\ntoo late to begin to do this; but the earlier in life it is done, the\nmore readily the character can be conformed to the standard of right\nwhich is thus established. Every year added to life ere this is\nattempted, is an added impediment to its performance; and until it is\naccomplished, there is no safety for the Character, for each year is\nadding additional force to careless or evil habits of thought and\naffection, and consequently of external life.\n\nIt is not going too far to say, that Character is the only permanent\npossession we can have. It is in fact our spiritual body. All other\nmental possessions are to the spiritual body only what clothing is to\nthe natural body,--something put on and taken off as circumstances vary.\nCharacter changes from year to year as we cultivate or neglect it, and\nso does the natural body; but these changes of the body are something\nvery different from the changes of our garments.\n\nThere is a transient and a permanent side to all our mental attributes.\nTake, for instance, manners, which are the most external of them all. So\nfar as we habituate ourselves to courtesy and good-breeding because we\nshall stand better with the world if we are polite than if we are rude,\nwe are cultivating a merely external habit, which we shall be likely to\nthrow off as often as we think it safe to go without it, as we should\nan uncomfortably fitting dress; and our manners do not belong to our\nCharacters any more than our coats belong to our persons. This is the\ntransient side of manners. If, on the contrary, we are polite from an\ninward conviction that politeness is one of the forms of love to the\nneighbor, and because we believe that in being polite we are performing\na duty that our neighbor has a right to claim from us, and because\npoliteness is a trait that we love for its own inherent beauty, our\nmanners belong to the substance of our Character,--they are not its\ngarment, but its skin; and this is the permanent side of manners. Such\nmanners will be ours in death, and afterwards, no less than in life.\n\nIn the same way, every personal accomplishment and every mental\nacquisition has its transient and its permanent side. So far as we\ncultivate them to enrich and to ennoble our natures, to enlarge and to\nelevate our understandings, to become wiser, better, and more useful to\nour fellow-beings, we are cultivating our Characters,--the spiritual\nessence of our being; but these very same acquisitions, when sought from\nmotives wholly selfish and worldly, are not only as transient as the\nclothes we wear, but often as useless as the ornaments of a fashionable\ncostume. The Character will be poor and famished and cold, however great\nthe variety of such clothing or ornament we may put on. When the\nmind has learned to appreciate the difference between reputation and\nCharacter, between the Seeming and the being, it must next decide, if it\nwould build up a worthy Character, what it desires this should be; for\nto build a Character requires a plan, no less than to build a house. A\ndeep and broad foundation of sound opinions, believed in with the whole\nheart, can alone insure safety to the superstructure. Where such a\nfoundation is not laid, the Character will possess no architectural\nunity,--will have no consistency. Its emotions will be swayed by the\nimpulses of the moment, instead of being governed by principles of\nlife. There is nothing reliable in such a Character, for it perpetually\ncontradicts itself. Its powers, instead of acting together, like\nwell-trained soldiers, will be ever jostling each other, like a\ndisorderly mob.\n\nThe zeal for special reforms in morality that so strongly characterizes\nthe present age, whatever may be its utility or its necessity, may not\nbe without an evil effect upon the training of Character as a whole. The\nintense effort after reform in certain particular directions causes many\nto forget or to overlook altogether the fact that one virtue is not\nenough to make a moral being. It cannot be doubted that the present\nsurpasses all former ages in its eagerness to put down several of the\nmost prominent vices to which man is subject; but it may be well to\npause and calmly examine whether a larger promise is not sometimes\nuttered by the zeal so actively at work in society, than will probably\nbe made good by its results.\n\nNothing can be worthy the name of Reform that is not based on the\nChristian religion,--that does not acknowledge the laws of eternal truth\nand justice,--that does not find its life in Christian charity, and its\nlight in Christian truth. The tendency of reform at the present day is\ntoo often to separate itself from religion; for religion cannot work\nfast enough to satisfy its haste; cannot, at the end of each year, count\nthe steps it has advanced in arithmetical numbers. The reformer asks not\nalways for general growth and advancement in Christian Character; but\ndemands special evidences, startling results, tangible proofs. These\nthings all have their value, and the persons who strive for them\ndoubtless have their reward; but if the kingdom of heaven and its\nrighteousness were first sought, the good things so fiercely advocated\nand labored after by special reformers would be added unto them, as\nnaturally as flowers and fruits, and the wealth of harvest, are added to\nthe light and warmth of the advancing year.\n\nPersons who devote themselves to one special branch of reform are apt to\nlose the power of appreciating any virtue save that one which they have\nselected as their own, and which they seem to love, not so much because\nit is _a_ virtue as because it is _their_ virtue. They soon lose all\nmoral perspective, and resemble him who holds some one object so closely\nbefore his eyes that he can see nothing else, and cannot see that\ncorrectly, while he insists that nothing else exists worthy of being\nseen.\n\nThere is ever an effort going on in the mind of man to find some\nsubstitute for that universal obedience to the laws of faith and charity\nwhich the Scriptures demand; and this temptation adapts itself specially\nto every different class of believers. Thus the Jew, if the higher\nrequisitions of the Law oppress him, thinks to secure himself from its\npenalties by the exactness of his ritual observances. The unfaithful\nRomanist hopes to atone for a life of sin by devoting his property to\nthe Church, or to charity, when he dies. The Lutheran and the Calvinist,\nwhen false to the call of duty, think to be forgiven their neglect of\nthe laws of charity by reason of the liveliness of their faith. So the\nmodern reformer sometimes seems to suppose himself at liberty to neglect\nthe cure of any of the vices that he loves, because he fancies that he\nmay take the kingdom of heaven by violence through his devotion to the\ndestruction of some special vice which he abhors. Thus temperance is\nat times preached by men so intemperate in their zeal, that they are\nunwilling to make public addresses on the Sabbath, because on that day\nthey are trammelled by the constraint of decency, which prevents them\nfrom entering freely into the gross and disgusting details in which they\ndelight. We have the emancipation of negroes sometimes preached by men\nfast bound in fetters of malignity and spiritual pride. We have the\ndestruction of the ruling influence of the clergy inculcated by men\ndogmatic as Spanish Inquisitors. We are taught that the doctrine of the\ninspiration of the Scriptures is a mere figment, by those who are firmly\nconvinced that their own inspiration is perfect and unfailing. The\nresult of all this is the development of characters as deformed as are\nthe bodies of victims to hydrocephalus or goitre; while, in painful\ncontrast to such victims, these morally distorted patients bear about\ntheir deformities in the most conspicuous manner, as if they were rare\nbeauties. So pagan nations, when they embody their ideas of superhuman\nattributes, often construct figures having several heads or hands, or\nenormously enlarge some particular member of the frame, fancying that\nthey thus express ideas of wisdom or power more perfectly than they\ncould by forming a figure whose parts should all present a symmetrical\ndevelopment.\n\nIt is not that reformers over-estimate the evil of any of the vices\nagainst which they contend; for in the abstract that is impossible; but\nthat they under-estimate the evil of all other vices in relation to\nthat one against which they arm themselves. The tree of evil has many\nbranches, and the trimming away one of them may only make the rest grow\nmore vigorously. There can be no thorough progress in reform until the\nevil of the whole tree is perceived and acknowledged, and the whole\nstrength is turned to digging it up by the roots.\n\nIf a man devote himself actively to the reform of some special vice,\nwhile he at the same time shows himself indifferent to other vices in\nhimself or in his neighbors, it is evident that his virtue is only\none of seeming. We are told that he who is guilty of breaking one\ncommandment is guilty of all; because if we disregard any one\ncommandment of the Lord habitually, persisting in the preference of our\nown will to his, it is evident we have no true reverence for him, or\nthat we act in conformity to his commandments in other points only\nbecause in them our will happens not to run counter to his; and this is\nno obedience at all.\n\nIf we find men leaving no stone unturned in promoting the cause of\ntemperance, who do not hesitate to cheat and slander their neighbors,\ntemperance is no virtue in them; but is the result of love of wealth,\nor of property, or of reputation, or of the having no desire for strong\ndrink; because if a man abstain from intemperance from love to God, he\nwill abstain from cheating and slandering from love to the neighbor. \"He\nthat loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom\nhe hath not seen?\"\n\nSo, too, slavery is an enormous evil, and it is very easy for one who\ndwells in the free States to cover with opprobrium those who hold\nslaves; but if the abolitionist indulges in a violence of invective that\ncompels one to fear that his heart is burning with hatred towards his\nSouthern brothers, he stands quite as low in the moral scale as a\n_cruel_ slaveholder, and possibly lower than a _kind_ one.\n\nThe intemperate, and often malignant, violence with which men preach,\nand lead on crusades, against special vices, proves them ignorant of, or\nindifferent to, the significance of virtue as a whole. It does not enter\ninto their hearts to conceive of the beauty of that growth in grace\nwhich results in the complete stature of a man,--that is, of an angel.\nIn their haste to produce great growth in some particular direction,\nthey overlook the fact, that in precise proportion to such growth must\nbe the dwarfing of the other members of the soul. Man was created in the\nimage and likeness of God; and he becomes truly a man only so far as,\nthrough the grace of God, his whole being voluntarily assumes that\nresemblance to the All-perfect for which he was designed. So long as he\nmakes no effort to become regenerate, after he has arrived at an age to\nbe at liberty to choose between good and evil, he turns himself more and\nmore away from God, and becomes less and less like him. While in this\nstate, he may possess many seeming virtues, may enjoy an untarnished\nreputation, may win the love of many friends; but is none the less the\nhollow image of that which should be the substance of a man. He is\nfollowing only the devices of his own heart,--seeking only the good\nthings of this world; and there is no virtue in anything that he does,\nthough he may seem to devote all that he has, or all that he is, to\npurposes of charity or reform. Man begins to be truly virtuous,--to be\ntruly a man, only when, relying on the strength of the Lord to sustain\nhis endeavors, he begins to avoid sin because it is abhorrent to God,\nand to fulfil the commandments because they are the words of God. Then\nonly he begins to form himself into the symmetrical figure of a man;\nand to become perfect after the manner in which the Heavenly Father is\nperfect.\n\nThe virtues all lock into each other. They cannot stand alone. Like the\nstones of an arch, no one of them can be wanting without making all the\nrest insecure. That Character alone is trustworthy in which each virtue\ntakes its relative position, and all are held in place and confirmed by\nthe key-stone of a living faith in the great central fact, that there is\na God of infinite goodness and truth, whose commandments are the laws of\nlife in this world and the world to come.\n\nWe cannot religiously obey one commandment unless we desire to obey all,\nbecause in order to obey one religiously we must obey it from reverence\nto the divine authority whence it emanates; and when such reverence is\naroused in the heart, it sends the currents of spiritual life to every\nmember of the spiritual frame, permeating the whole being, and suffering\nno disease to remain upon the soul. He, therefore, who devotes himself\nto some one object of reform enters upon an undertaking involving one\nof the most subtle temptations by which man is ever assailed. Spiritual\npride will lie in wait for him every moment, telling him how clean he is\ncompared with those against whose vices he is contending; and unless\nhe is very strong in Christian humility, he will soon learn this\noft-repeated lesson, and will go about the world with the spirit of the\nPharisee's prayer ever in his heart,--\"God, I thank thee that I am not\nas other men, intemperate, a slaveholder, a contemner of the rights of\nthe weak. I am not, like many men, contented with fulfilling the common,\nevery-day duties of life. They are too small for me. I seek to do great\nthings; and to show my devotion to thee by going armed with all the\npower the law allows, to put down vice by force, and drive it from the\nface of the earth.\"\n\nThere is a class of men who assume to be, and are received by many as,\nphilanthropists, who appear to delight in detecting and publishing to\nthe world the vices of their fellow-beings. They seem to love to hate;\nand to find, in vilifying the reputations of those to whom they are\nopposed, a pleasure that can be compared to nothing human; but rather to\nthe joy of a vulture as he gloats over, and rends in pieces, his carrion\nprey. While reading or listening to the raging denunciations of such\npersons, one is painfully reminded of the spirit that a few generations\nago armed itself with the fagot and the axe in order to destroy those\nwho held opinions in opposition to the dominant power. The axe and the\nfagot have disappeared; but, alas for human nature! the spirit that\ndelighted in their use has hot wholly passed away; the flame and sword\nit uses now are those of malignity and hatred; it does not scorch or\nwound the body, but only burns and slays the reputations of those whom\nit assails. Forgetting that the Lord has declared, \"judgment is mine,\"\nit hesitates but little to pass its condemnations upon those who differ\nfrom itself; and if Christian commandments are urged against it, it\npasses them by with a sneer, or openly sets them aside as too narrow and\nimperfect for the present age. While shrinking from the dangers that\nlie in wait for those who devote themselves to one idea in morality\nor reform, we should beware of falling into the opposite extreme of\nindifference on these same points; and should be sure to give them their\nfull share of consideration. The ultra conservatism, that holds fast to\nexisting customs and organizations merely because they are old, or from\nthe love of conservation, is quite as fatuous as the radicalism that\nwould destroy the old merely because it is old, or from the love of\ndestruction. He whose conscience knows no higher sanction or restraint\nthan the Statute Book, is not enough of a Christian to be a good\ncitizen; while he who does not respect the Statute Book as the palladium\nof his country, is not a citizen worthy the name of Christian. While\nstriving to remain unbiased by the clamor of party, or the violence\nof individuals, we should with equal care avoid the opposite error\nof looking with approval, or even with indifference, upon usages or\ninstitutions whose only claim to our forbearance lies in laws or popular\nopinions whose deformity should be discovered, and whose power should\nmelt away beneath the light and warmth of a Christian sun.\n\nTrue religious life consists in doing the will of God every moment of\nour lives. His will must bear upon us everywhere and at all times. Where\nthe mind is absorbed in some one object of reform, this constant\ndevotion to duty is almost, if not quite, impossible. The mind becomes\nso warped in one direction that it loses the habit, and almost loses the\npower, of turning in any other. Hence we rarely hear the word _duty_\nfrom the lips of the reformer. He constantly descants upon rights or\nwrongs, while duties seem forgotten. Thus we hear perpetually of the\nrights or of the wrongs of man or of woman, of the citizen, or of the\ncriminal, and of the slave; but the duties of these classes seem to have\npassed out of sight. Now it is only when all shall fulfil their several\nduties that the rights of all can be respected; and if peace on earth,\nand good-will towards men are ever to reign, it must be when piety and\ncharity shall go hand in hand,--when the human race shall unite as one\nto fulfil its duties towards God and towards each other.\n\nViolence of every kind springs from a desire to do one's own will.\nEgotism is the sure accompaniment of wrath. The love of God never\nconstrained any man to villify his brother. He who is bent on the\nperformance of duty,--who desires simply to do the will of God, is firm\nas a rock, but never violent. He prays, with the poet,--\n\n  \"Let not this weak, unknowing hand,\n  Presume thy bolts to throw;\n  And deal damnation round the land,\n  On each I judge thy foe.\"\nHe remembers that judgment belongs to God; and that the Lord taught\nus to pray, \"Forgive our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass\nagainst us\"; and surely none can hurl denunciation upon a fellow-sinner\nif from his heart he offers that prayer.\n\nPossibly the ground may be taken that we should forgive our own personal\nenemies, but not the enemies of the Lord, against whom the reformer\ndirects his wrath. But is the arm of the Lord shortened that he cannot\navenge his own wrongs? and who among mortals is so pure or so strong\nthat he may dare to say, the Lord has need of him for a champion?\n\nIt is deemed just that a soldier should suffer severe punishment if he\nact without orders, taking upon himself the authority of a commanding\nofficer. How much more is he worthy of condemnation who puts himself\nin place of God, and under pretence of doing him service, presumes to\ntransgress his explicit commands.\n\nWe are prone to fancy that when we are fond of talking about any object\nwe are fond of the object itself; but this by no means follows of\ncourse. We may delight in talking about philanthropy while our hearts\nare burning with hatred, or about temperance while intoxicated with\npassion, or about abolitionism while we have no respect for the liberty\nof those around us, and no comprehension of that liberty wherewith\nChrist makes his children free; and all this because we are working from\nthe blind impulses of an unregenerate spirit. When the spirit becomes\nregenerate,--taught of God,--it perceives the unity of virtue, and can\nnever again regard it as a dismembered fragment. Then it knows, that\nto do wrong that good may come of it is striving to cast out Satan by\nBeelzebub,--an effort that must surely fail. Then it feels that evil is\nreally overcome only by good. How different will be the reformatory zeal\nof this state of the spirit from that which preceded it. Formerly, no\nsooner was the subject of reform mentioned than the neck stiffened\nand the head tossed itself backward with the excitement of pride and\ncombativeness, while the tongue poured forth whatever phrases anger\nmight suggest. Now, how different is the attitude and expression, as\nwith words of gentleness and love it strives to draw others to perceive\nthe beauty of purity and justice. Formerly, the whole effort of the mind\nwas to compel others to come into agreement with itself; now, it strives\nto win them into harmony with God. Once, it believed that indignation\ncould be righteous; now, it knows that anger and heavenly mindedness\ndwell far apart; and, if they approach each other, one must perish.\n\nIf we would train character into genuine goodness, we should observe\nwhether evil in ourselves or others offends us because it is contrary\nto our own ideas, or because it is opposed to the will of God. If the\nformer be the case, we shall find ourselves angry; if the latter, we\nshall be sorrowful. No one can be angry from love to God. Anger is\nin its very nature egotistic and selfish, and has in it nothing of\nholiness. Penitence for sin is ever meek and humble, and so is regret\nfor the sins of others. The moment we find ourselves angry, either\nfor our own sins or for the sins of others, we may be sure there is\nsomething wrong in our state, and we should stop at once to analyze\nour feelings, and find where the trouble lies. If we do this\nconscienciously, we shall be sure to find some selfish or worldly\npassion at the root of the matter. We shall find that something else\nthan love to God excited our indignation.\n\nIf we find ourselves indulging, habitually and with satisfaction in any\none sin, we may be sure that we have not true hatred for any sin;\nfor sin is hateful because it is contrary to the infinite wisdom and\ngoodness of God. If we abhor it for this reason, we shall abhor all sin;\nand if we find ourselves hating some sins and loving others, we may be\nsure that we hate those which are repugnant to our own tastes, and love\nthose which are in conformity with them. Thus our measure of sin is in\nourselves, and not in God; and we are putting ourselves in place of\nGod,--worshipping the idol self, instead of our Father in heaven.\n\nThe Lord was very explicit in his teachings regarding the necessity of\nthe denial of self; but this is the last thing in which we are willing\nto obey him. We profess to be willing and eager to do a great deal of\ngood; but when conscience tells us that we must do the will of God every\nmoment of our lives, we turn away with a sorrowful countenance; for\nthere are many things in which we wish to follow our own wills without\nstopping to consult the will of God, and we wish to believe that we can\ndo this and yet be quite virtuous enough to insure salvation. While the\nnatural man is strong within us, we are ever striving to serve God and\nmammon; but when the spiritual man is born, we are willing to give up\nall else and follow the Lord. Then, we feel that we cannot be truly\nvirtuous, because we are, in some points, very scrupulous, while in\nothers we are very indifferent; for we perceive that goodness is the\nharmonious development of the whole Character into accordance with the\nwill of God.\n\nSo long as we labor for ourselves we shall be, at best, only special\nreformers, and cultivators of special virtues; but when we are ready to\ndeny ourselves, and to do the will of God, all sin will become abhorrent\nto us, and we shall grow in grace daily until we become perfected in\nthat symmetrical form of man, which is the image and likeness of God;\nand every faculty of the heart and of the head will then be baptized\ninto the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.\n\n\n\n\nTHE HUMAN TRINITY.\n\n\"It is this trinity of man,--for man is the image of his God, in whom\nis the essential Trinity,--under which his whole character must be\nstudied.\"--KINMONT.\n\n\nMan being created in the image and likeness of God, we must of necessity\nfind in him a finite organization corresponding with the infinite\norganization of the Creator. In the Infinite Divine Trinity there are\nthe Divine Goodness or Love, the Divine Truth or Wisdom, and the\nDivine Operation or the manifestation of the other two in and upon the\nuniverse: in other words, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. In the\nhuman, finite trinity, we have, corresponding with these, Affection,\nUnderstanding, and Use, or external life. Divinity being the embodiment\nof infinite order, its parts act in a sequence of absolute perfection;\nthat is, absolute love by means of absolute wisdom exhibits itself in\nabsolute use. Speaking with exactness, the word sequence is out of place\nin this connection, because with the Divinity, love, wisdom, and\noperation are simultaneous; but he has separated them in his ultimate\nmanifestations, and we are obliged to separate them in our analysis,\nin order that they may in any degree come within the compass of human\ncomprehension.\n\nMan, in his primeval innocence, was a genuine image and likeness of\nthe All-perfect Divinity; perfect after the same manner, but on a\nlower plane. There was then no antagonism between the creature and the\nCreator; and the finite naturally and joyfully obeyed the infinite; for\nin obedience to the will of the Heavenly Father it found sustenance for\nthe soul as manifestly as in meat and drink for the body. The progress\nof time saw the creature turn from the love of God to the love of\nself,--from seeking the truth of God to seeking out its own vain\nimaginations, and from performing the orderly uses of a life of charity\nto all the disorderly indulgencies of selfish passion. Instead of\nworshipping the living God, man now invented idols representing his own\nevil passions, and bowed before them in adoring admiration; for the\nattributes wherewith he clothed them were fitting forces to stimulate\nhis progress along the pathway he had chosen, where life was made\nhideous by the lowering shadows of rapine and murder.\n\nThe first Church, represented by Adam and Eve, is the general type of\nevery Church that has followed it, and of every unregenerate individual\nin those Churches. Instead of looking to God as the source of all\nwisdom, there is ever the desire to eat of, or make our own, the fruit\nof the tree of knowledge, that we may know of _ourselves_ good from\nevil; and that we may do of ourselves what seems to us right; and\ninstead of penitence for sin and an endeavor after reformation, there is\na striving to conceal our unfaithfulness. The covering assumed by those\nwho, in Scripture, stand as the parents of mankind, is the perpetual\ntype of the subterfuges we all invent to hide our disobedience from our\nGod, from our neighbors, nay, even from ourselves. The primal image and\nlikeness of God has become so defaced, distorted, and broken, that it is\noften hard to find a remnant still testifying to its Divine origin. Let\nus rise up from among these shattered fragments, and contemplate for a\nwhile the means of bringing the poor, fallen human nature into harmony\nwith the divine;--let us develop, if we can, a system that may aid us\nin training our faculties, so that the Affections shall be pure, the\nUnderstanding wise, and Life the harmonious exponent of both.\n\nIn the attempt to restore our being to its original symmetry, the\nintellectual part of the nature must not be cultivated at the expense of\nthe affectional, nor should the affectional be suffered to run riot with\nthe intellectual. Love must be wise, and wisdom must be affectionate, or\nlife will fail of its end. External morality has no reliable foundation\nunless it be built on morality of thought and affection. Apart from\nthese, it is either the result of a happy organization that demands no\ndisorderly indulgence, or it is the figleaf garment of deceit, put on by\nthose who strive to seem rather than to be.\n\nIn the just training of Character, if we first learn to understand the\ncapacities and relations of Affection, Thought, and Life, and look\nwithin our own natures until we learn to comprehend how everything\npertaining to our being belongs to one of these departments, we shall\nbetter appreciate the difficulties to be overcome before we shall be\nwilling to make everything that we do the honest outbirth of everything\nthat we are. Pretence and hypocrisy, subterfuge and falsehood, will then\ndisappear, and life will become the adequate expression of symmetrical\nCharacter.\n\nThe intellectual part of our being may be better understood if divided\ninto two departments, viz., Thought and Imagination,--the subjective and\nthe objective. Thought can be lifted up into the Affections, and made\nmanifest in Life only through the medium of the Imagination. Thought is\nat first a pure abstraction, a subjective idea,--something entirely\nwithin the mind, and having no relation to conduct,--a seed sown, but\nnot germinated; and while it remains thus it has no influence upon the\nAffections. If, however, it germinate, the next step in its existence is\nto become an objective idea; and now it has lost its abstract quality\nand become an image. In its first state it is neither agreeable nor\ndisagreeable to the mind, but so soon as it takes a distinctive form it\nbecomes either pleasing or displeasing, and is either cast away and\nforgotten, or retained arid expanded by the Affections, whose office it\nis to cause Thought to become a vital reality, ready to show itself in\nthe external life so soon as a fitting occasion calls for its\nmanifestation.\n\nThought is like water. Sometimes it glides over the mind as over a\nbed of rock; neither softening nor fertilizing; but when it is made\na possible reality by the Imagination, and a vital reality by the\nAffections, it is now like a stream, flowing through rich farms and\ngardens, fertilizing wherever it comes; and again, like waterfalls,\nfurnishing power to set ideas in motion, that shall give nutriment and\nwarmth to the souls of millions.\n\nThe Lord, when he would condense religion into its narrowest compass,\ncommands us to love the Heavenly Father with the whole heart and\nsoul and mind and strength. Can this signify anything else than that\nAffection, Imagination, and Thought, in their whole strength, or brought\ndown into the ultimates of life, must be consecrated to the Divine\nCreator of them all? So St. Paul, when he would sum up the whole\nChristian system in a single phrase, exclaims: \"Faith, Hope, Charity.\nThe greatest of these is Charity.\" Faith here expresses the religion of\nThought, Hope the religion of the Imagination, and Charity the\nreligion of the Affections, which is greatest of all because it is the\nvitalization of the other two.\n\nEvery act that we voluntarily perform, whether good or evil, first\nentered the mind as an abstract Thought; it was then shaped by the\nImagination until it became a definite idea; next, it was claimed as a\nchild by the Affections; and lastly, it was by the Affections made to\ncome out into a use of love or an abuse of hate.\n\nMany thoughts die in the mind without passing through all these stages.\nWe sometimes hear a sermon that fills our Thoughts as we listen, and yet\nwe forget it all as we turn away from the church door; for it went no\ndeeper than our Thoughts. At another time, what we hear goes with us to\nour homes, haunts us through the week, and perhaps is made a standard\nwhereby to measure the virtues or the vices of our neighbors; possibly\neven, we try ourselves by its rule, and our consciences are roused to\npierce us with the sharp pang of remorse. All this, however, brings no\nchange over our lives. Here Thought has passed into Imagination, has\nbecome a reality to the mind; but as yet the Affections do not warm\ntowards it, and so it dies in the second stage of existence. Yet, again,\nwe listen to the voice of the preacher, and his words abide in the soul\nuntil they quicken our Affections, and as we muse the fire burns. Then\nare our eyes lightened to perceive how all that we have heard may become\nrealized in life; and warmed by the heavenly flame that has descended\nupon our altar, our souls kindle with charity, and we go forth to\nrealize the hope that is within us in works of angelic use.\n\nThis process of the mind is not confined to the religious part of our\nbeing. It goes on perpetually in our intellectual no less than our moral\nnature. Our success in using whatever we learn in every department,\nthe wisdom or the folly of everything we do, whether relating to\nintellectual, to religious, or to practical life, depends on the\nfaithfulness with which we apply these three powers to whatever is\npresented to them.\n\nLook in upon the assembled members of a school, of any grade from\nprimary to collegiate, and you will see one set of pupils with stolid\nfaces conning their tasks, as if they were indeed tasks in the hardest\nsense of the term, and then reciting them word for word, in a monotonous\ntone, as if their voices came from automata, and not from living\nthroats. These are they who study only with their Thoughts, and whose\nImaginations and Affections are untouched by all that passes through\ntheir minds. Scattered among the preceding another class may be found,\nwith quickly glancing eyes, who seem all alive to everything they\nstudy, who recite with earnest tones, and whose faces are bright with\nexpression. Here the Imagination is at work, and everything the mind\nseizes upon stands there at once a living picture. These are the\nbrilliant scholars, who carry off all the prizes, and win all\nadmiration. There is still a third class, of a calmer aspect. Its\nmembers may not shine so brightly, but there is more warmth in their\nrays. They will not learn so much nor so rapidly as those of the second\nclass, but their whole being is permeated by what they know. They are\nconstantly studying the relations of the things that they learn to each\nother and to life; and are endeavoring to form themselves in accordance\nwith the rationality they thus acquire; for their Affections have\nfastened themselves upon it, and it is therefore becoming a part of\ntheir being.\n\nWhen these three classes of pupils become men and women, and go\nforth into the various walks of life, the first, if they attempt any\nhandicraft, are the botchers and bunglers, who bring little more than\ntheir hands to anything that they do; and who, therefore, do nothing\nwell. They are the dead weights of society, that must be helped through\nlife by their more active neighbors. If they are scholars, they are\ncollectors of facts, which they pile up in their memories as a miser\nheaps his gold, for no end but the pleasure of heaping. They make\nphysicians without resource, lawyers without discernment, preachers who\ndole out divinity in its baldest and heaviest forms.\n\nThose of the second class are always better in theory than in practice;\nfor with them zeal ever runs before knowledge. They will delight in\ntelling how a thing should be done, but will find it very difficult\nto do it themselves. A blacksmith of this class will tell with great\nexactness how a horse should be shod, but if trusted to perform that\noffice, ten to one the poor animal will go limping from his hands. So a\ncarpenter of the same class will be full of plans and fancies that he\nwill wish to carry out for the benefit of his employers; but his work,\nwhen completed, though perhaps elegant and ornamental, will probably be\ninappropriate in appearance, and not adapted to the use for which it\nwas intended. From this class come inventors of machines that are never\nheard of after they get into the patent-office, schemers and speculators\nwhose plans end in ruin, boon companions, brilliant talkers, sparkling\norators, elegant and ornate poets who sing blithely for their own day\nand generation, preachers and statesmen who are ever led away by Utopian\nand millennial dreams; in short, men who may shine while they live, but\nare seldom remembered when they die.\n\nThe third class are men of mark in whatever walk of life they are found;\n--men to be relied upon for whatever they may undertake. They are men\nwho can produce in Life what their Understandings know and imagine;\nor, rather, who know how to select from their stores of Thought and\nImagination whatever may be realized in Life. If they are mechanics,\ntheir work is the best of its kind, and precisely adapted to the use\nfor which it was intended; if they are machinists, their inventions\nare those that ameliorate the condition of society; if merchants or\nspeculators, they do not run after bubbles; if devoted to intellectual\npursuits, they are divines whose thoughts thrill the souls of men\nfor centuries, founders of new schools of philosophy, lawgivers, and\nstatesmen who are remembered with gratitude as the fathers of nations,\npoets whose words are destined to live so long as the language in which\nthey write is spoken,--nay, who shall cause their language to be\nstudied ages after all who spoke it have passed from the face of the\nearth.\n\nThe women who belong to these several classes are characterized in like\nmanner, though their more retired lives prevent them from displaying\ntheir traits so conspicuously. Those of the first class are dress-makers\nwhose work never fits, milliners whose bonnets look as if they were\nnot intended for the wearers, servants who do nothing rightly unless the\neye of their mistress is upon them, teachers whose pupils are taught\nas if they were beings without life or reason; and in their highest\nrelations, as wives and mothers, they are those with whom nothing goes\nas it should, whose daily lives are but a succession of mistakes and\ncatastrophies, whose husbands never find a comfortable home to which\nthey may return for repose after a day of toil, whose children are\n\"dragged up, not brought up.\"\n\nIn the second class are servants who have a quick perception of what is\nto be done, and who make all that is directly apparent to the eye\nlook well, but a closer observation shows many an unswept corner and\nneglected duty; dress-makers and milliners whose work is ornamental,\ntasteful, and becoming, though the ornamentation is apt to be too great\nfor the value of the material, and the work will now and then come\nin pieces for lack of being thoroughly finished; teachers who infuse\nbrightness and quickness into their scholars, but whose instructions are\nmore showy than solid. In their housekeeping they understand \"putting\nthe best foot foremost,\" and making a great deal of ornament where there\nmay be but little of anything else; but they lack the practical skill\nthat makes a housekeeper successful in the essentials that constitute\ncomfort. They will seek to make their children accomplished ladies and\ngentlemen, who will be agreeable in society, rather than well-trained\nmen and women, capable of meeting the duties and emergencies of life.\n\nThe third class of women are the reliable ones, wherever they may be\nfound. They do everything they attempt well, because there is a sense of\nfitness and propriety in them which is disturbed by things badly done,\nand which gives them an almost intuitive faith, that if a thing is worth\ndoing at all, it is worth doing well. They are not eye-servants, but\nfaithful in all things. Thoroughness pervades whatever they do, in all\ndepartments of life. They are not satisfied with making a dress or a\nbonnet that is becoming, unless it is well finished and appropriate.\nThey are the thorough teachers who are willing to have their schools\nexamined every day in the year, who seek to know the capacities of their\npupils, and to educate them accordingly. They are the mothers whose\nchildren are obedient and trained for the uses of life no less than for\nits pleasures; the wives whose husbands are happy in their homes if they\nare capable of being happy anywhere.\n\nWhen we contemplate these three classes of human beings, we perceive\nthat only one of them can be said to lead successful lives. Two classes,\nand both of them painfully numerous, fail. The question rises to the\nmind with fearful solemnity, were they created for this end,--created\nto fail? Can we for a single moment believe that a Father of infinite\njustice and mercy ever created one individual among his children, an\naccountable being, neither insane nor idiotic, and yet so imperfect that\nhe _must_ fail? Surely it were blasphemy to hold such an act possible.\nInfinitely various are the works of his hand in the forms of humanity,\nas in every other department of the universe, but even so manifold are\nthe varieties and degrees of service which he prepares for every one\nto do. There is a place and a use for every one, and whoever fails of\nfinding a place and a use fails, not because he was created incompetent,\nbut because he refuses to cultivate the powers wherewith he is endowed.\nIndolence and selfishness, the moth and rust of Character, are corroding\nand devouring the delicate organization of the internal man, which can\nretain the wholeness and brightness of its powers only by constant use.\nWe are weak and useless, not because we were created to be so, but\nbecause we do not listen to the voice of conscience when it tells us to\nserve the Lord with _all_ our strength, in the very place where we now\nare, and at the very time that now is. It is not because the power of\ngrowth is not in them that our talents do not multiply, but because we\nfold them in a napkin of indifference, and bury them in the earth of our\nlower nature. Understanding and Affection are within us all, and if they\ndo not develop into a life of use, into a Character that will fit us for\nheaven,--and this is what we should always keep before our minds as the\nonly genuine success,--it is because we have not striven as we might\nand ought.\n\nUnderstanding and Affection are within us all, differing, not in kind,\nbut only in degree; and they are constantly at work, involuntarily if we\ndo not voluntarily assume their control. In the little child they work\nas involuntarily as the heart beats and the lungs respire; but so soon\nas the child is old enough to begin to know the difference between right\nand wrong, the action of these powers should begin to be voluntary;\nshould begin to be under the guidance of conscience.\n\nSome persons call these powers into voluntary action from motives of\nmere worldly wisdom. Every one does so who places some object before\nhimself, and cultivates his powers with a special view to attain\nperfection therein. The pickpocket, the gambler, the housebreaker, must\ndo it before they can attain skill in their depravity. The worldling\ndoes it who follows an honorable profession with all his heart and soul\nand mind and strength, seeking only such rewards as Mammon bestows upon\nhis votaries. Whether all these are to be successful in attaining the\nrewards they seek, is a matter of entire uncertainty; for Providence\npermits or withholds worldly success in a way that we cannot anticipate,\nnor but imperfectly understand. We may bear the heavy yoke of Mammon\nuntil it wear into the very marrow of our bones, and yet gain nothing\nbut poverty and disgrace. They, however, who by a voluntary action of\nthe powers endeavor to become perfected in the stature of Christian men\nand women,--who seek first the kingdom of heaven and its righteousness,\nusing all things of this world only as rounds of that ladder whose\nsummit is in the heavens, even while its base rests upon the earth, are\nsure of the reward they seek; and the yoke that they bear will grow more\nlight and easy with each revolving year.\n\nThere are many persons who seem to belong by turns to each of the three\ngreat classes that have been described. These exercise their powers\ninvoluntarily. They cannot be depended upon, for they are not balanced\nCharacters. If they happen to like what they are doing, or happen to\nfeel in the mood of doing it, they will do it well; otherwise, they\ndo not care how badly their work is performed, if it only can be got\nthrough with. They have not waked to the consciousness that we have no\nright to do anything badly, because whenever we do so we impair our own\nfaculties, and thereby diminish our powers of usefulness; while, if the\nact concerns any one beside ourselves,--as almost all acts do,--we are\nwronging our neighbor.\n\nMany persons are so fortunate, women especially almost always so, as to\nhave enough employment placed before them by the circumstances of their\nposition, without any effort of choice on their part, to occupy their\ntime, and to train their faculties. Those who are not thus set to work\nby circumstance should be governed in the selection of their employment\nby their own inclination and talents. What we love to do we can learn\nto do well, and our work will then be agreeable to us. Many persons\nare governed in the choice of employment for themselves or for their\nchildren by a stronger consideration for what is honorable in the eyes\nof the world than by talent or taste. Thence it often results that\npersons fail ever to fulfil the duties they have chosen in a way to\nbe satisfactory to any one beside themselves, perhaps not even to\nthemselves. If they have sufficient force of Character to do well in\nspite of not doing what they like, they are still never so happy as\nthey would have been had inclination been consulted. Where the heart\nis really in the employment, work is not a burden, but a natural and\npleasant exercise of the powers; and it becomes comparatively easy to\nserve the Lord with all the strength.\n\nThose who are not constrained to work, should remember that a life of\nidleness cannot be a life of innocence; for the idle cannot serve the\nLord. A life that does not cultivate one's own capacities, and aid\neither in supplying the wants or cultivating the capacities of some one\nbeside self, is no preparation for heaven; for the heavenly life is one\nof perpetual advance, because of untiring use.\n\nThere is no station in life where there is not a constant demand for the\nexercise of charity. We cannot be in company an hour with any person\nwithout some such demand presenting itself to us. The daily intercourse\nof life places it constantly in our power to make some person more or\nless happy than he now is, and accordingly as we may choose between\nthese two modes of action we are fulfilling or setting aside the law of\ncharity.\n\nNo class of human beings bears a more heavy weight of responsibility\nthan that which is placed beyond the necessity of effort; and there is\nnone whose position has a stronger tendency to blind it to the calls of\nduty. Although every gift bestowed upon us by providence, whether of\nmind, body, or estate, is but another talent, for the employment of\nwhich we must be one day called to account, yet these added talents too\noften excite in us a feeling of superiority which induces us to demand\nthat others should minister to us, and causes us to forget that he who\nwould be greatest must be so by doing more and greater services than\nothers, and not by receiving them.\n\nPersons whose position places them beyond the need of effort, would do\nwell to select some special study or employment to occupy and develop\ntheir mental life, and save them from the inanity, ennui, and\nselfishness that are sure to follow in the footsteps of idleness.\nPoverty of mind is rendered all the more prominent and disgusting if\naccompanied by external wealth; and to such a mind wealth is but a means\nto folly, if to nothing worse.\n\nNeither wealth nor poverty, neither strength nor weakness, neither\ngenius nor the want of it, neither ten talents nor one, can excuse any\nhuman being from training his faculties in a way to develop them to the\nutmost, and forming them into a symmetrical whole, the type of a true\nhumanity.\n\nIn the following essays it may seem to the reader that there is\ncontradiction in treating each power of the mind as though its perfect\ntraining resulted in the upbuilding of a perfect Character; but the\nunion between these capacities is so intimate that one cannot be rightly\ntrained unless all the others are trained at the same time. We cannot\nthink wisely unless we imagine truly, and love rightly, as well as\nwarmly. We cannot love rightly unless we think justly, and imagine\npurely; nor can we imagine purely unless we love that which is pure. We\ncannot do all this unless we live out what we think, imagine, and love;\nfor the inner life always acts narrowly and superficially unless it be\nwidened and deepened by an efficient external life. What we do must\nfollow closely in the footsteps of what we know, if we would arrive at\nbreadth and depth of knowledge. So fast as we put in practice what we\nknow we shall be able to receive more knowledge. We are told by the Lord\nthat our knowledge of truth shall be enlarged in proportion as we are\nobedient to the divine will. \"If any man will do his will, he shall know\nof the doctrine.\"\n\nThe Divine attributes act simultaneously and equally always and\neverywhere, while the triune manifestation is a merciful adaptation of\nthese attributes to the comprehension of fallen humanity. Were humanity\ntruly regenerate, the action of its capacities would be simultaneous\nand homogeneous. Even in its present state these capacities are so\ninterlaced that one cannot act strongly without inducing some action in\nthe others; just as in the physical frame the brain, the heart, and the\nlungs can no one of them act unless all act in some degree; while in\nperfect health all act in the fulness of perfect harmony, no one organ\nrendering itself prominent by being more full of vitality and activity\nthan another. Disease alone renders us conscious of the action of any\none vital organ, and our moral diseases having destroyed the harmonious\naction of our moral powers, thereby rendering it impossible for us to\nappreciate the Divinity in the full harmony of unity, we have been\nmercifully permitted to attain to such knowledge as is possible to\nus through manifestations of the Divine attributes in trinity. In\nproportion as our faculties are trained to act in harmony we shall\nbecome unconscious of their separate functions; and in the same\nproportion we shall become capable of looking upon the Divinity in the\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\nTHOUGHT.\n\n  It is the grandeur of all truth which _can_ occupy a very high place in\n  human interests, that it is never absolutely novel to the meanest of\n  minds: it exists eternally by way of germ or latent principle in the\n  lowest as in the highest, needing to be developed, but never to be\n  planted.--DE QUINCEY.\n\nMany persons seem to suppose that the power of Thought, or at least the\npower of thinking to any purpose, is a natural gift, possessed by few,\nand unattainable by the many. This idea is a very pernicious error, for\none of the traits by which the human being is distinguished from the\nbrute is the possession of this power; and the progress that every human\nbeing may make in learning to think well has no limit but the universal\none of finite capacity.\n\nThe distinction made between thoughtful and thoughtless persons is\ncommonly one of intellect alone; it should be quite as much one of\nmorality. Considered intellectually, a thoughtless person cannot be\nsuccessful in any but the very lowest walks of life. He brings nothing\nbut his hands to what he does. If these be strong, he may dig, perhaps,\nas well as another man, but he can never make a good farmer; he may\nuse the axe or the hammer to good purpose, but he can never become a\nmaster-workman. If he attempt anything more or higher than what his\nhands can do under the guidance of another's brain, his effort is sure\nto be followed by confusion and failure. Viewing a thoughtless person\nin a moral light, he cannot be religious, he cannot be virtuous, and,\nunless by accident, he cannot even be externally moral. He may, perhaps,\nperceive that the grosser forms of wickedness are to be avoided, but he\ncan have no comprehension of the danger involved in the little vices of\neveryday life; and cannot understand how every one of these vices, small\nas it may seem, contains within itself the germ of some one of those\ngreat and shocking sins forbidden in the commandments. He will,\ntherefore, without compunction, go on committing these small sins\nuntil the habit of evil becomes so fixed, that, if he does not end by\ncommitting great ones, it is more frequently from lack of temptation\nthan from any worthier reason.\n\nThe thoughtless person can never be depended upon for anything. We never\nknow where to find him, or what he will do in any particular position or\nrelation of life. All we can anticipate of him is, that he will probably\ndo something bad, or silly, or improper; accordingly as the act may\nbear upon morality, sense, or manners.\n\nBefore going further, let it be understood that a thoughtless person\nis not one without Thought. A human being without Thought is an\nimpossibility. Most, if not all, idiots think. It is the lack of\ncoherency, purpose, and effort in Thought that induces the habit of mind\ncommonly known as thoughtlessness. Without Thought, Imagination, and\nAffection, one could not be a human being. Mankind differ from each\nother, not in kind, but in degree. It is the low degree of activity in\neither of these great divisions of the human mind that causes one to\nseem thoughtless, unimaginative, or without affection. The end of all\ntraining should be to develop each one of these faculties so that it\nshall co\u00f6perate with the others, and all as fully as possible. A just\nbalance of power is the first requisite, and constant increase of it\nthe second; just as in the physical frame we ask, first, for just\nproportion, and, as the product of this, for strength.\n\nIt is often said that no kind of sense is so rare as common sense; and\nthis is true, simply because common sense is attainable by all far more,\nand is a natural gift far less, than most other traits of character.\nCommon sense is the application of Thought to common things, and it is\nrare because most persons will not exercise Thought about common things.\nIf some important affair occurs, people try then to think, but to\nvery little purpose; because, not having exercised their powers on small\nthings, their powers lack the development necessary for great ones.\nHence, thoughtless people, when forced to act in an affair of\nimportance, blunder through it with no more chance of doing as they\nshould than one would have of hitting a small or distant mark at a\nshooting-match, if previous practice had not given the power of hitting\nobjects that are large and near.\n\nThe thoughtless person perpetually acts and speaks as if it were of\nno consequence what is said or done. If any one venture to suggest a\ndifferent mode of speech or action, the reply is pretty sure to be, \"O,\nit is of no consequence!\" As if an immortal being, to whom a few short\nyears of probation had been given, the use or abuse of which must give\ncharacter to an eternity to come, could do or say what would have no\nconsequence! Let any one bring distinctly before himself the great truth\nthat we stand ever in the presence of the Almighty, stewards of his\nbounty, children of his love, and could it be possible for him to\nbelieve that it is of no consequence how that love is returned, and how\nthat bounty is used? Every word, every act of our lives, is either a use\nor an abuse of his bounty, a showing forth either of our love for or our\nindifference to him. Therefore, every word and act has a consequence,\nending not with the hour or day, but stretching forward into eternity.\nLet this truth be admitted to the mind, and who could dare to be\nthoughtless. Who would not wish to return the infinite love poured out\nupon us, by consecrating all that we have and all that we are to the\nservice of the Infinite Father? When this consecration takes place, all\npure aspirations fill the heart, while the mind is ever thinking what is\nthe best way in which the will of the Lord may be done. Thoughtlessness\nhas no longer an abiding-place, for the mind now perceives that it must\nbe about its Father's business, and Thought becomes a delightful and\ninvigorating exercise, instead of the wearisome effort it seemed before.\n\nIf the mind hold to its integrity, without relapsing into its former\nstate of blind indifference to its high vocation, the cultivation of\nthe power of Thought will go on steadily and surely, and the mind will\nbecome constantly more and more clarified from all folly and silliness.\n\nWhen a person brings everything habitually to the standard of right and\nwrong, he gradually learns to judge wisely of whatever subject he may\nhold under consideration, provided he does not seek for that standard in\nhis own mind, but in the mind of the Lord, as he has given it to us in\nthe Word of eternal life. When this standard is sought only in the human\nmind, nothing is fixed or permanent, and discord abounds in society much\nas it would if the length and breadth of the fingers of each individual\nwere to be substituted for the standard inch and foot of the nation; but\nif the Bible be honestly and humbly received as the standard by which to\njudge of right and wrong, mankind would ever abide in brotherly love and\nharmonious union. The element of discord is not in God's work, but in\nthe mind of man; and man becomes truly wise and capable of concord only\nso far as, forgetting the devices of his own understanding, he becomes a\nrecipient of the truth that descends to him from on high.\n\nIt may be objected that the Bible has been the fruitful source of\ncontention and war; and some may suppose it cannot therefore be a\nstandard of union to the world; but it should be remembered that, when\nit has become a cause of dissension, it has been by the perversion of\nman, who has separated doctrine from life,--has put asunder that\nwhich God joined. No contention has ever risen in the world regarding\nreligious life, but many and terrible ones regarding religious doctrine\nseparated from life; and it is perfectly apparent, that, had those who\nwere engaged in them, looked to religious life with the same earnestness\nthey did toward doctrine, all these dissensions must have ceased.\nChristian life is, as it were, a building, of which faith is the\nfoundation. The foundation is subservient to the superstructure, and\nshould be strong and well laid; but has no value excepting as it is\nthe support of a worthy building. The Lord is very explicit in all his\nteachings on the subject of life, and it is hardly possible that any one\ncould faithfully study his words, and then exalt abstract doctrine into\nthe place that belongs of right to Christian life.\n\nWhoever studies the direct teachings of the Lord, recorded by the\nEvangelists, and makes them the rules of his Thoughts, must necessarily\nbe wise. Everything connected with daily life, if his mind be really\npermeated with these teachings, takes its proper place before him. He\nsees what has a transient, and what a permanent value,--what is merely\ntemporal, and what eternal; and so learns to appreciate the relative\nvalue of all things. Everything that occurs becomes a subject for his\nthoughts to work upon, and while working in heavenly light his mind\ngrows in wisdom day by day. This action of Thought will not be confined\nto events as they occur around him, but whatever is read, all the events\nof the past, all art and science, are brought under the same analysis.\nThe thoughtless person reads merely for the amusement of the moment,\nremembers little of what he reads, and that little to no purpose. A\nfact is, to such a man, a mere fact standing by itself, and having no\nrelation to anything else. However much he may read, the thoughtless man\ncan never be instructed. He is of those who, seeing, perceive not, and\nwho, hearing, do not understand. The thoughtful person, on the contrary,\nreads everything with a purpose. His mind works upon what he reads, and\nhe is instructed and made intelligent, even though he may see only\nwith the light of this world. His intelligence will, however, be very\ndifferent and very inferior in degree to that of the man who looks at\nobjects in the light of heaven. He will measure things by an uncertain,\nvarying standard, and will appreciate things only according to their\ntemporal value. He will, therefore, never become truly wise. With those\nwhose minds are nurtured by the words of the Lord, everything is judged\nby the standard of eternal truth. Whatever is learned is digested by the\nthoughts, and so the powers of the mind are strengthened and enlarged.\nThus the mind becomes constantly more and more wise. The merely\nintellectual man has the desire to become wise, but his eye is not\nsingle, and therefore his mind is obscured by many clouds,--the dark\nexhalations of worldliness. When a man fixes his eye upon the Lord he is\nfilled with light, and sees with a clearness of vision such as can be\ngained from no other source.\n\nThe cultivation of Thought lies at the root of all intellectuality,\nwhile it elevates and enlarges the sphere of the Affections. Affection\nis above Thought, but it is sustained and invigorated by its influence.\nThought being the foundation upon which Affection is built, the\nstrength, permanence and reliability of Affection must depend on the\nsolidity and justice of the underlying Thought.\n\nThe mind may be stored with the most varied and extensive knowledge, and\nyet be neither improved nor adorned thereby. Robert Hall once remarked\nof an acquaintance, that he had piled such an amount of learning upon\nhis brain, it could not move under the weight. It is little matter\nwhether the amount of learning be large or small; the brain is only\nencumbered by it, unless it has taken it into its own texture, and made\nit by Thought a part of itself. Some persons love facts as a miser loves\ngold, merely because they are possessions; but without any desire to\nmake use of them. A fact or thought is just as valuable in itself as\na piece of money. Gold and silver are neither food, nor raiment, nor\nshelter; but we value them because through their means we can obtain all\nthese. So facts and thoughts are neither rationality, nor wisdom, nor\nvirtue, and their value lies in their being mediums whereby we may\nobtain them all.\n\nUndigested learning is as useless and oppressive as undigested food; and\nas in the dyspeptic patient the appetite for food often grows with the\ninability to digest it, so in the unthinking patient an overweening\ndesire to know often accompanies the inability to know to any purpose.\nThought is to the brain what gastric juice is to the stomach,--a\nsolvent to reduce whatever is received to a condition in which all that\nis wholesome and nutritive may be appropriated, and that alone. To learn\nmerely for the sake of learning, is like eating merely for the taste\nof the food. The mind will wax fat and unwieldy, like the body of the\ngormand. The stomach is to the frame what memory is to the mind; and it\nis as unwise to cultivate the memory at the expense of the mind, as it\nwould be to enlarge the capacity of the stomach by eating more food than\nthe wants of the frame require, or food of a quality that it could not\nappropriate. To learn in order to become wise makes the mind active and\npowerful, like the body of one who is temperate and judicious in meat\nand drink. Learning is healthfully digested by the mind when it reflects\nupon what is learned, classifies and arranges facts and circumstances,\nconsiders the relations of one to another, and places what is taken into\nthe mind at different times in relation to the same subjects under their\nappropriate heads, so that the various stores are not heterogeneously\npiled up, but laid away in order, and may be referred to with ease when\nwanted. If a person's daily employments are such as demand a constant\nexercise of the thoughts, all the leisure should not be devoted to\nreading, but a part reserved for reflecting upon and arranging in the\nmind what is read. The manner of reading is much more important than\nthe quantity. To hurry through many books, retaining only a confused\nknowledge of their contents, is but a poor exercise of the brain; it is\nfar better to read with care a few well-selected volumes.\n\nThere is a strong tendency towards superficial culture at the present\nday, which is the natural result of the immense amount of books and\nperiodicals constantly pouring from the press, and tempting readers to\ndip a little into almost everything, and to study nothing. Much is said\nof the pernicious consequences arising from lectures and periodicals, as\nthough a short account of anything must of necessity be a superficial\none; but this is far from the truth. A quarto volume on one theme may\nbe entirely superficial, while a lecture or review-article on the same\ntheme may contain the whole gist of the matter. Prolixity is oftener\nsuperficial than brevity. Books are superficial if they relate only\nto the outside of a subject,--if they describe only its husk; and the\nreverse, if they give its kernel. Many an able review-article contains\nthe kernel of a whole volume, and if the pleased reader of the\nreview goes to the book itself, expecting to enjoy that in a degree\nproportionate to its size, he will often find he has got nothing but a\ndry husk for his pains.\n\nThose who have little time for books, but who wish really to know many\nthings, can accomplish a great deal by being careful to hunt for meats\nrather than for shells and husks; for though the outsides of things make\na great show, and can be displayed by the pedant to great advantage\nbefore those who are superficial as himself, they contain no healthful\nnutriment for the mind. Take, for instance, the study of botany. Let\na person master the whole vocabulary of the science, and know the\narrangement of its classifications so well that he can turn at once to\nthe description of any plant he may find. Let him do this until, like\nKing Solomon, he knows every plant by name, from the \"hyssop on the wall\nto the cedar of Lebanon\"; but if at the same time he knows nothing\nmore about them than the name, his knowledge of botany is entirely\nsuperficial, though he may have spent a vast deal of time and labor\nin its acquisition. Let another person have studied the physiology of\nplants till he has learned all that has yet been discovered of their\ncurious and beautiful structure,--till he appreciates as far as mortals\nmay the Divine wisdom, that even in the formation of a blade of grass\ntranscends not only all that man with all his pride of science and\nmechanical skill can perform, but goes far--we cannot even guess how\nfar--beyond all that human intellect can comprehend; and still more if\nthe mind of this student be lifted upward in adoration as he learns, he\nis the true botanist, though he may have studied far less, if we count\nby time, than his superficial brother.\n\nSo it is with all the sciences. The kernel is what nourishes the\nmind,--the knowledge of what God has created, and not the mere power of\nrepeating the classifications and vocabularies that man has invented to\ndescribe these creations: not that these also have not an eminent use;\nbut still it is one that should always be esteemed secondary in all our\nstudies.\n\nSo, too, it is with history. One may have all the important dates,\nnames, and facts of the world's history at the tongue's end, and yet be\nnone the wiser; for such knowledge is but the surface of history. To\nknow history well, is to have so arranged its facts in the mind that it\nmay be contemplated as a continuous exhibition of God's providence. It\nis to study the succession of events, not as separate units, but as\nlinks of one vast chain, on every one of which is inscribed a phrase\ndiscoursing of the progress of the human race, and showing the growth of\nman in the complex, from infancy to adolescence. Further than that, we\ncan hardly venture to believe the race has yet advanced. Thus studied,\nhistory is the noblest of all sciences, since it treats of the highest\nof God's creations; but studied as a mere congeries of facts, all\nsciences are alike worthless; and from the mousings of the mere\nantiquarian to the dredgings of the student of the shelly coverings of\nthe Mollusca, all end in naught.\n\nWhen a person's employment is one that does not require a constant\nexercise of the thoughts, there is the greater need of a constant supply\nof nutritious food for the mind, that it may be growing all the time by\nreflection, and thus be saved from falling into a morbid state, such\nas too often results from long confinement to an occupation demanding\nlittle exertion of its powers. The farmer at his plough, the mechanic at\nhis bench, the seamstress at her needle, and a host of others, too\noften suffer the thoughts to wander into realms of morbid egotism and\ndiscontent, when, if they would turn them upon moral or intellectual\nthemes, they might be growing wiser and better every day.\n\nIt may be objected, that those who are obliged to work hard through the\nwhole week cannot, on the Sabbath, take enough intellectual food to last\nthem for Thought during the week. Every person can, if he will, find\ntime for a chapter in the Bible every day, and therein lies wisdom, that\nall humanity combined can never exhaust, and which ever opens richer\nstores the more it is wrought upon. Then the human race are everywhere\naround us, and every individual is a volume to be read. We are vexed,\nand perhaps tormented, by the vices or foibles of those with whom we\nare thrown in contact. Let us not stop in vexation, but study our own\nhearts, and see if there is not some kindred vice or foible in ourselves\nthat perhaps troubles our friends quite as much as this disturbs us; for\nit is often the case that our own vices, when we meet them in others,\nare precisely those which irritate us most; and we are almost always\nmore irritable through our vices than through our virtues. Again, we\nfind persons exciting our admiration through their virtues. Let us not\nstop in cold admiration, but reflect how we may engraft similar virtues\nupon our own souls. It is deep and earnest Thought alone that can teach\nus to know ourselves, and without this knowledge we are in constant\ndanger of cherishing repulsive vices such as we should abhor in others,\nand of neglecting the culture of virtues such as in others we esteem\nindispensable. Society at large, too, is around us, and domestic\ncircles, with all their complex relations, their jarring discords, or\ntheir heavenly harmonies; and all are full of food for Thought. The true\nand the false, the right and the wrong, are everywhere, and the highest\nwisdom is to be able to distinguish one from the other. He who has\nspent his whole life in intellectual pursuits may, in this greatest\nwisdom,--the only wisdom that belongs to eternity equally with time,--be\nthe veriest fool; while he who has patiently and prayerfully and\nobediently studied no book but the Bible may be so taught of God that he\nshall possess all that man while on earth can possess of this highest\nwisdom.\n\nIt is beautifully said by William von Humboldt, that \"exactly those\njoyful truths which are the most needful to man--the holiest and\nthe greatest--lie open to the simplest, plainest mind; nay, are not\nunfrequently better, and even more entirely, grasped by such a one,\nthan by him whose greater knowledge more dissipates his thoughts. These\ntruths, too, have this peculiarity, that, although they want no profound\nresearch to attain to them, but rather make their own way in the mind,\nthere is always something new to be found in them, because they are in\nthemselves inexhaustible and endless.\"\n\nWhile the Bible is left to us, while human beings surround us, while our\nown souls are to be cleansed, renewed, and saved, we miserably deceive\nourselves if we think we lack material for Thought. We are thinking\nperpetually, whether we will or no, and let us look to it that we think\nto some good purpose. How much Thought is worse than wasted in planning\nhow wealth, which too often profiteth not, may be acquired, while the\ntrue riches that the Lord is ever offering for our acceptance are\nforgotten! How often are the Thoughts poisoned with envying the lands of\none's neighbor, while one's own soul is lying an uncultivated waste.\nHow often is the mind cankered with vexation at the intellectual\nachievements of an old schoolmate, whom in school days we never deemed\nwiser than ourselves, when all that has wrought the present difference\nbetween us is, that he thought and strove while we dreamed and loitered.\n\nIn its purely religious action, Thought is the fountain of that Faith\nwhich forms the base of St. Paul's trinity of the primal elements\nof Character,--the foundation upon which hope and charity are to be\nelevated. How important, then, is it that this foundation should be\nwisely laid! Many persons think much in relation to religious subjects\nfrom the love of metaphysical reasoning; while their lives are not\ninfluenced by the doctrines they profess. This is an abuse of Thought,\none of its fruits is bigotry. The more strongly a man confirms himself\nin any doctrine that he does not apply to life, the more elevated he\nbecomes in his own estimation,--the more puffed up with spiritual\npride,--the more full of contempt and hatred towards those who disagree\nwith him. With such persons, purity of life is as nothing compared with\nfaith in a certain set of dogmas. There are some who think much of the\nvices of life, but always in relation to their neighbors, and thereby\nengender that form of bigotry called misanthropy. Both these classes\nmisuse the faculty of Thought, making it subserve the purposes of\ncontempt and hatred and debasing narrow-mindedness, instead of\nministering to Christian love, that hopeth all things of its brother,\nand judges as it would be judged.\n\nThe more we study human nature out of ourselves, and in the light of the\nUnderstanding, the less we love it; but the reverse takes place when we\nstudy our own hearts at the same time that we study the characters of\nour fellow-beings, and both in the light of Christian truth. We cannot\nhate our fellow-beings while we perceive that we are all of one\nfamily,--while we feel our own weakness and sinfulness; and we cannot\ndespair of human nature while we believe that Infinite Wisdom has become\nits Redeemer and Saviour.\n\nIf Thought be strongly turned towards religious subjects, the mind must\nnecessarily form to itself many doctrines which will be its true creed,\nwhatever external form of Church creed it may avow, or even if it\ndisavow all creeds. At the present day, it is not uncommon to hear\ncreeds spoken of with contempt, as the effete remains of a past age;\nand the remark is often made, that it is of no consequence what a man\nbelieves if he do but lead a good life. The religious opinions we hold\nconstitute the morality of our internal life; and it is difficult to\nunderstand how internal morality can be of no consequence, while\nexternal morality is of so much. It would seem that external morality is\nbut a mask, unless it truly represent the internal morality. Still it is\nnot surprising that many superficial observers should be found ready to\nexpress their aversion to creeds, when we consider the abuses into which\nChurches and Governments have rushed in their efforts to establish and\nmaintain their favorite dogmas; or when we observe how the bigoted\nsupporters of creeds become blinded to every other consideration, and\nlearn to look upon life as of little importance when compared with\ndoctrine. It was probably in contemplation of such bigotry that the\nApostle exclaims, \"Show me thy faith without works, and I will show thee\nmy faith by my works.\" This saying is often quoted in defence of the\nidea that faith is of no consequence compared with works; but this is no\nlogical deduction from the text. \"I will show thee my faith by my works\"\nexpresses no disregard or undervaluing of faith, but asserts the great\ntruth that faith becomes a living reality only when it forms itself into\nworks. The quality of works depends, not on the works themselves, but\nupon the faith that inspires them. For instance, three men of equal\nwealth may each give the same sum of money to some charity. Externally\nthe act is the same in each individual, yet the common sense of the very\nsame persons who a few moments before may have asserted that faith is\nnothing, and works everything, does not hesitate to estimate it in a\ntotally different manner. One of the donors has made up his mind that\nease is the only good. He has taught himself to believe that it is\nwise to avoid all trouble, and to give rather than make the effort of\nresisting importunity; and he gives because he carries this belief into\neffect. Another is an ambitious man, who believes that power and the\ngood opinion of society are the best among good things; and he gives\nto obtain the praise of men and the influence in society which follows\npraise. The third believes that the first good of life is making others\nhappy, and with systematic benevolence examines every claim upon his\nbounty, and, if he finds it worthy, never dismisses it unsatisfied. It\nwas the faith within the act that gave this distinctive quality to the\nthree donations. The first put his faith in ease, the second in the\nopinion of the world, and the third in doing good to the neighbor; and\nthe common sense of the community judges the actions accordingly. All\nthe actions of life range themselves under one or other of the three\nheads represented by these gifts; namely, the love of self, or ease; the\nlove of the world, or ambition; and the love of the neighbor, or true\ncharity. Every man is probably governed in turn by each of these loves;\nbut in every man one of them takes the lead and dominates over the other\ntwo; and just in proportion as he gives himself up to the dominion\nof one of these loves and rejects the sway of the others he leads a\nconsistent life. Society may assert that life is everything, and faith\nnothing, when it talks abstractly; but its common sense ever shows more\nwisdom by transferring the quality of the motive to the act, as often as\nit finds any clew to the knowledge of motive. Of course, society makes\nmany blunders in these judgments, because it reads the heart of man\nvery imperfectly; but the nature of man leads him constantly to attempt\npenetrating the heart before forming his opinion of an action.\n\nThere is no need of restricting the word creed to the forms of faith\nadopted by particular churches. Whatever a man believes is his creed,\nand every man has a creed, however much he may be opposed to forms of\nfaith; and this creed is the rule of his life, however strongly he may\nassert, and however implicitly believe, that faith is of no importance.\nTake, for instance, a man who devotes his whole energies to the pursuit\nof riches from a conviction that they are the greatest good this world\naffords. If he have large caution, he will take care not to break the\nlaws of the land; but everything short of that he will do to attain his\nloved object. Perhaps he has large love of approbation; he will then\nbe a little more cautious, and will do nothing that can injure his\nreputation as a gentleman; at least unless he believes that what he does\nwill not be known in society. Perhaps, however, he has neither of these\nrestraining traits, and is of a violent disposition; he will then be\nready to rob or murder, if such means seem to promise to give him his\ndesires. Shall we say this man has no creed, when his faith in the value\nof riches impels him to devote body and soul to the acquisition of gain?\nDoes not his creed run thus: \"I believe in gold as the one great good,\nand for this will I sacrifice all else that I possess.\" And does not his\nlife and death devotion to this creed put to shame the feeble efforts of\nmany of us who believe that we devote ourselves to more worthy ends?\n\nSo it is with those who employ themselves exclusively in the attainment\nof intellectual wealth. Faith that this is the one great good incites\nthem to unwearied labor,--causes them to forget food, sleep, friends,\neverything, in order that they may acquire abundant stores of learning;\nand all because they have taken as their creed, \"I believe that learning\nis better than all beside, and for this will I labor day and night.\"\n\nSo it is with the ambitious man. Who labors more devotedly than he; ever\nkeeping his creed in mind, \"I believe that power and reputation are\nabove all other possessions, and to gain them I will sacrifice time,\nlabor, truth, and justice.\"\n\nSo it is with every man and every woman the world over. The slothful\neven--those who seem impelled to nothing--refrain from effort because\nthey put their faith in idleness as the one thing above all others\ndesirable.\n\nMankind are possessed of Understanding no less than Affection; and by\nthis, their inherent nature, they are compelled to believe no less than\nto love. It is vain to talk of cultivating the Affections that charity\nmay be perfected in humanity, and at the same time omit all care of the\nfaith. The mind will and must believe so long as it continues to think;\nand it is as unsafe to leave it without cultivation as to abandon the\nheart to the instruction of chance. The question is not, shall we or\nshall we not adopt a creed; for however strongly we may resist, we\ncannot refrain from holding one; but, what creed shall we adopt?\nAccordingly as we answer this question so will the measure of bur wisdom\nbe both here and hereafter.\n\nThe human race may, in this respect, be divided into three\nclasses,--those who adopt good creeds, those who adopt evil creeds, and\nthose who, too indolent or too heedless distinctly to adopt any rule of\nlife, spend their days in vascillating between the two; but the latter,\nby reason of the greater tendency to sin than to holiness inherent with\nthe human race, tend, year by year, more and more decidedly towards the\nevil.\n\nIt is impossible that any person should lead a consistent life unless a\ncreed be adopted and steadfastly acted upon; because unless one holds\ndistinct opinions in relation to life and duty, one is drawn hither and\nthither by impulse and passion, as the mind's mood varies from time to\ntime, so that the words and actions of to-day will be often in direct\nopposition to those which were yesterday, or which will be to-morrow.\n\nIn order to lead a life worthy an immortal being, a child of God, the\nfirst step to be taken is to come to a distinct understanding of\nwhat one wishes to be and to do. The biographies of those who have\ndistinguished themselves in the world, either for goodness or for\ngreatness, frequently show that in early life they adopted certain modes\nand directions of effort, and have attained to eminence by steadily\npersevering in one direction. Among the papers of these persons, written\nrules have been found which they have laid down for themselves as\ncreeds, and in harmony with which they have built up their Characters;\nand herein lies the secret of their success.\n\nThe living in accordance with such creeds will not insure greatness or\ndistinguished reputation, because after all our efforts, no one can be\nsure of worldly and external success. Events which it was impossible\nto provide for, or even to foresee, will often confound the best\npreparations of humanity, because the providence of God overrules all\nthe events of life, according to the eternal dictates of infinite\nwisdom and mercy,--a wisdom that knows when it is best for us to succeed\nand when to fail in our wishes and endeavors, and a mercy which, looking\nto our eternal welfare, sometimes makes us sorrowful here that we may\nthe more rejoice hereafter.\n\nPerhaps the cause which most frequently prevents the adoption of a creed\nis the failing to recognize the seriousness of life in this world. Few\npersons can be found so senseless or so reckless as not to recognize the\nseriousness of death. Probably few could look upon the solemn stillness\nof the lifeless human countenance without a feeling of awe at the\nthought that ere long their day too must come when the beating of\nthe busy heart shall cease, and the now quick blood shall stay its\ncourse,--when the hand shall lose its cunning and the brain its power.\nSuch impressions are too often transitory, passing away with the object\nthat awoke them, because persons do not stop to consider why it is that\nsolemnity and awe pervade the presence of death. If they did, they would\nfeel that this solemnity was reflected upon life, and life would became\nto them serious as death. Both would be serious, but neither sorrowful;\nfor then death would lose its terror and would be looked forward to\nsimply as the beginning of eternal life. The solemnity of life lies in\nthe fact that it is a preparation for eternity; and the solemnity of\ndeath in the fact that the preparation is over and the eternity begun.\nIn all this there is no cause of sadness, but infinite cause for\nthoughtful seriousness.\n\nWhen the true solemnity of life is comprehended, and the Character is\nmoulded in accordance with the ideas that in consequence possess the\nsoul, a growth of the whole nature is induced that prevents all the\nrepulsive characteristics of old age. Too often old age is utterly\ndisagreeable through the indulgence of ill-temper, fretfulness, and\nselfish indifference to the wishes and pleasures of the young. Such\ntraits of Character could never possess us if the true import of\nlife were comprehended, and the Character formed in harmony with its\nteachings. A Character that grows in grace daily must become more and\nmore beautiful and attractive with advancing years. Each day, as it\nfinds it better fitted for heaven, must find it less sullied by the\nimperfections of earth.\n\nWe sometimes see persons discontented and peevish because they are\nold,--because they feel that they must soon pass away from the\nearth. Could this be, if they believed that life on earth was only\na preparation for an eternal life in heaven? Could they shrink with\naversion at the thought of death if they believed it to be the portal of\nheaven? The follies and the vices, the weariness and the sadness, the\ndiscontent and the moroseness of life, all spring from the want of a\njust conception of its relations and its value, such as can be attained\nonly by calm, deliberate reflection, out of which wise opinions evolve,\nand are gradually shaped into a creed such as forms the bone and muscle\nof a wise and noble Character.\n\nEvil is ever the result of the abuse of some good; for nothing was\ncreated evil. The narrow creeds of various churches, by which men's\nsouls have been unworthily bound, have sprung from the falsification of\nthe fact that man requires faith in truth that he may be able to lead a\nlife of goodness. Had the makers of these creeds gone directly to\nthe Bible for their materials, instead of looking into their own\nminds,--had they been content to accept the Ten Commandments given to\nthe Jewish, or the Two given to the Christian Church, much mischief\nmight have been avoided; but, not satisfied with the simplicity and\ndirectness of God's word, they built up creeds from their own minds, not\nas guides to a holy life, but as chains to compel the minds of other men\ninto harmony with their own. Just in proportion to the energy with which\nthey strove to impress themselves upon the people through these creeds\nwas their indifference to that life' of holiness which should be the end\nof all creeds.\n\nThe centuries that have passed since the Christian dispensation was\nproclaimed have many of them been darkened even to blackness by insane\nendeavors to write creeds of man's devising, in letters of fire and\nblood, upon the nations. The day for such deeds has passed away from\nmost lands calling themselves Christian; and now men are inclining to\nrush into the opposite extreme, and to mistake licentiousness in belief\nfor liberty of conscience. Such an extreme naturally follows the\nopposite one that preceded it; but out of the anarchy of faith that now\nprevails the providence of God. will surely, in his own good time, lift\nup his children into the liberty wherewith those who obey him are made\nfree. Then will it be understood that the truth is not a chain to bind\nthe soul, but a shining light illuminating all the dark places of the\nearth, and pouring into every soul that worthily receives it a living\nwarmth, that shall clothe the whole being with the beautiful garments\nof heavenly charity. Then shall it be seen that all true creeds are\ncontained within the two commandments of the Son of God. Thou shalt love\nthe Lord with all thy heart and soul and mind and strength; and thy\nneighbor as thyself.\n\n\nIMAGINATION.\n\n\nImagination rules the world.--NAPOLEON.\n\nImagination is the mediatrix, the nurse, the mover of all the several\nparts of our spiritual organism. \"Without her, all our ideas stagnate,\nall our conceptions wither, all our perceptions become rough and\nsensual.\"--FEUCHT ERSLEBEN.\n\n\nImagination is that power of the mind by which it forms pictures or\nimages within itself. Thought is but a shapeless, lifeless entity, until\nImagination moulds it into form. We cannot bring what we know out into\nlife until Imagination presents it to the Affections as a possible\nreality. Thought is an uncreative power, and gives form to nothing.\nImagination is a more positive power, and can impart form to everything\nin thought. Thought acts subjectively, while Imagination is more\nobjective in its operations. Thought is, by itself, a pure abstraction:\npassing into the Imagination it becomes a possible reality, and in the\nAffections a vital reality. The Affections cannot love or hate anything\nwhile it is a mere Thought; but when it becomes an image, it is at\nonce an object either of attraction or repulsion. Thought, therefore,\ncan be lifted up into the Affections, and then be made manifest in life,\nonly through the medium of the Imagination.\n\nIt has been remarked by a celebrated writer, that all great discoverers,\ninventors, and mathematicians have been largely endowed with\nImagination. It might with equal truth have been added, that all\nsuccessful persons in every department of life are endowed with an\nImagination commensurate in power with that of the other faculties. To\nthe mechanic in his shop, no less than to the student in his cell, is it\nrequisite that he should be able to form a distinct image in his mind\nof whatever he wishes to perform. So the teacher, the preacher, and the\nparent labor in vain unless there is clearly imaged in their minds the\nend to be attained by education and discipline. It is idle to seek for\nmeans to accomplish anything until there is a distinct image in the mind\nof the thing that is to be done. If there be such a thing as an \"airy\nnothing,\" it is a thought before Imagination has given it a \"local\nhabitation and a name.\" When Shakespeare said it was the office of the\npoet to carry on this transformation, he announced one of those great\ngeneral facts which are equally true of every other human being. It is\nin degree, and not in kind, that one man differs from another. In this,\nthe poet is but the type of what every human being must be, if he would\nbe anything better than a dead weight in society, incapable of success\nin any department of life.\n\nLet no one fold his hands supinely, and say, I have no Imagination; and\ntherefore, if this doctrine be true, my life must be a failure. You may\npossibly have but one talent while your neighbor has ten, but you\nare just as responsible for the cultivation and enlargement of your\nendowment as your neighbor for his. Had the parable been reversed, and\nhad he who was endowed with five talents hidden them in the earth while\nhe who had one doubled his lord's money, the condemnation and the\nacceptance would likewise have been reversed. Unless a man be so far\nidiotic that he is not an accountable being, we blaspheme the goodness\nof God, if we say there is nothing he is capable of doing well.\n\nThe action of the Imagination may be best illustrated by example.\nPrevious to the days of Columbus, many sea-captains believed that there\nwas a Western Continent; but their belief was a cold faith, existing\nonly in Thought. When the ardent mind of Columbus received the\nsame belief, Imagination speedily formed it into a reality of such\ndistinctness that faith changed to hope, and then Affection brooded upon\nit until his whole being was absorbed by the determination that he would\nbe the discoverer of this unknown world. The image of this land was\na pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of flame by night, leading him\nonward in spite of every discouragement and disappointment. Others might\nlose their courage, or die of weariness by the way; but his was that\ndeathless enthusiasm that knows neither despair nor doubt. To this\nintense Imagination the world owes a new continent, and it is to\nsuch Imaginations that it owes almost, if not quite, all the great\ndiscoveries and inventions that have ever been made. There are those who\nlove to believe that such things are in the main the result of accident;\nbut it is only to the thoughtful and the imaginative that accident\nspeaks. To the dull and the indifferent it is utterly dumb.\n\nWhat is life but one long chain of accidents, if by accident we\nunderstand all that falls out without our own intention or volition. We\ncannot control these accidents. There is a power above circumstance and\naccident that controls them, as gravitation controls the motions of\nmaterial things. We can only turn them at our will, and make use of\nthem, as the machinist turns the power of gravitation to serve his\npurposes.\n\nQuick-witted persons are those who have the power of rapidly seeing the\nrelations of things in every-day life,--whose Thoughts grasp, and whose\nImaginations shape with dextrous rapidity, the little accidents of the\nhour, and turn them to advantage. Persons of resource are those who have\na deeper Thought, a more earnest Imagination; and who can therefore\nlay hold of great principles, and unusual circumstances, with a\npower adequate to meet great 'emergencies, and to make use of great\nopportunities. If we trample sluggishness and indifference under our\nfeet, if we do with a will whatever we undertake, determining to do it\nas well as we possibly can, we shall become quick-witted in small works,\nand full of resource in large undertakings.\n\nThe Imagination is often talked of as if it were a useless part of our\nbeing, which should be put down and discouraged as much as possible;\nas if the Creator had endowed us with a power we did not need. So\nimaginative persons are spoken of with contempt, and here there is more\njustice; for, in common parlance, to be imaginative means to have the\nImagination developed out of all proportion with the other powers. This\nis, perhaps, quite as bad as to have an insufficiency. What we should\ndesire is a balance of powers. Imagination should not run away with\nThought and Affection, but neither should it lag behind them. All must\nact harmoniously and equally in a symmetrically developed Character.\nThey are like the three legs of a tripod; and if either is longer or\nshorter than the others, or worse still, if no two are alike in length,\nthe tripod must be an awkward and useless piece of lumber, instead of\nthe graceful and useful article for which it was intended.\n\nWhatever is to be done, from the discovery of a continent to the making\nof a shoe or a loaf, can be done well only by a person of Imagination.\nGo to a shoemaker and tell him exactly what you wish for a shoe, and it\nis your imagination that gives you the power of telling him so that\nhe can understand your wishes. Every one can think, \"I want a pair of\nshoes,\" but one must have Imagination to know what kind of shoe one\nwants, and a clear, distinct Imagination to be able to describe it\nintelligibly to another. Suppose you have this, and have told the\nshoemaker what you desire. Now, whether the man sends home to you a pair\nof misfits, quite different from those you ordered, or a pair just such\nas you want, depends in no small degree on his powers of Imagination.\nAny man can think enough to fasten materials together into the form of a\nshoe, and to make them vary in size according to a regular gradation of\nnumbers; but this is all he can do unless he exercises his Imagination.\nUnless the image of a shoe, as you hold it in your Imagination, was\ntransferred distinctly to the Imagination of the other, you will look in\nvain to find it translated into a material reality. So it is with\nyour cook. She cannot make a nice loaf of bread, or prepare a dinner\nproperly, by merely thinking as she works. The idea of a light loaf or\nof a well-cooked dinner must be distinctly in her mind, or you will eat\nwith a disappointed palate.\n\nIt is needless to multiply examples here. We have but to look around us\nand see them everywhere.\n\nWorks of Imagination, of course, come in for their share of opprobium\nfrom those who, instead of striving to regenerate all the universal\ncharacteristics of humanity, would cut off and cast from it all those\ntraits with which they least sympathize. In spite of their opposition,\nthe mountain of fiction grows higher and higher every day, and the\nmultitude throng its pathways to gather that food for the Imagination\nthat is rarely given it in other compositions. Let the moralist talk\nand write against this as he may, it will be of no use, for the mass\nof human minds will never take an interest in any book that does not\naddress itself to the Imagination. From the beginning of the world until\nnow, no teacher and no writer was ever popular unless he addressed\nhimself, in part at least, to the Imagination of the world.\n\nWhen the Father of History read his nine books before the Greeks at the\nOlympic Games, and the people hung hour after hour and day after day\nupon his words, it was not merely because he glorified their victories\nthat they listened with delight, but because he told the story with such\nvividness that every hearer beheld the on-goings of the tale pictured in\nhis own Imagination. It was no dull recital of dry facts, the mere bone\nand muscle of History that he offered them, but the living story, the\nwarm blood pulsating through it all, and every nerve instinct with life,\nIn our own day, if the historian would forget the so-called dignity of\nHistory, which is but another name for lifelessness, and after having\nfilled his mind with a clear, bright image of what he would relate,\nwould present his story vividly to the Imagination of the reader, we\nshould have no more complaints of the dulness of History. Who ever found\nIrving or Prescott dull? and yet they are accurate and faithful as the\nmost stately and oracular. The carping critic may sneer at them because\nthey are not philosophical and profound; but to have been read with\ndelight by thousands who would never have reached a second chapter had\nthey been other than they are, may well satisfy their ambition, and make\nthem careless of the opinion of the critic. Such writers belong to the\n_Republic_ of letters, not to that literary _Oligarchy_ which insists\nthat books should be written according to certain conventional rules\nwhich have been manufactured in the closet, instead of looking at the\nwants of the human mind, and then addressing themselves to those wants.\n\nThe class of minds that crave instruction for its own sake must always\nbe very small; and it is this class alone that will read books in spite\nof their lack of imaginative power. Authors have no right to complain\nthat their wise books lie unread by the multitude, if they persist in\noverlooking the nature of the human mind, and addressing themselves\nto what they think it ought to be instead of what it really is. They\nexpatiate admiringly upon the simplicity and vividness of the style\nof Herodotus, and upon the classic taste of the Athenian public in\nappreciating him; and then, forgetting that the public of our own day\nare quick to admire the same traits, turn to their desks and write their\nhistories as unlike as possible to him whom they have been praising.\n\nThe same repulsive want of Imagination too often characterizes Theology\nand Metaphysics, and prevents mankind from receiving the instruction\nfrom works on these topics that they need. In the early days of\nman's history, Religion and Philosophy addressed themselves to the\nImagination, and then the people listened to their teachings; but\ngradually these heaven-born teachers turned more and more away from\nImagination and towards Thought,--lost themselves in abstractions, dried\nup, withered, and changed into Theology and Metaphysics; and then the\npeople turned wearily away from their words; and were they to blame?\nThey wanted bread, and only stones were given to them. The multitude\nwould not have followed the Lord, and listened with admiring wonder\nto his instructions, had they not been addressed to the Imagination.\nInfinite Wisdom clothed itself in parables, that the people might be\ninstructed, and the people thronged to hear. The truths of Philosophy\nand Religion are of an interest more universal to humanity than the\ntruths of all other science, for the first is to know one's self, and\nthe second to know one's God; and yet the majority of teachers cover\nthem with such a body of technicalities and abstractions, that it is\nvain for the mass of mankind to endeavor to penetrate to the soul\nwithin.\n\nIf the clergy of the Protestant Church would spend more strength in\nillustrating the Infinite Wisdom contained in the parables of the Lord,\nand less in amplifying the abstractions of St. Paul, they would gather\naround them bands of listeners far more numerous and more devout than\nthose that now attend their ministrations. It was one of the grand\nmistakes of that Church, at its first separation from the Romish, that,\nin its terror of the worship of material images, it passed into the\nopposite extreme of the worship of abstractions. This is one reason why\nProtestantism has made no advance in Europe since the death of the first\nReformers, and why there is so little vital religion among the races by\nwhom it was adopted.\n\nMuch has been done of late to render the natural sciences familiar and\nattractive to the popular mind, by lectures and books that bring them\nwithin the comprehension of all: and it is to be hoped, that, beginning\nthus with the material parts of the universe, mankind may be gradually\nled from matter to mind, from science to religion. The forms of external\nthings are easily reproduced in the mind as images, and this is why\nnatural science addresses itself more readily to the mind than any other\nbranch of learning. When men learn to look within, and perceive that\nthe things of the mind are as genuine realities as the objects of the\nexternal world, Philosophy will become attractive; and when the preacher\nwarms Theology into Religion by abandoning the technicalities of\nabstractions for the living realities of piety towards God and charity\ntowards the neighbor, he will rejoice in a listening audience.\n\nThe amount and the quality of that which we call originality, creative\npower, or genius, is entirely dependent upon the activity, force, and\nintegrity of the Imagination. Talent belongs to Thought, and works only\nwith facts and ideas as others have done before. It may be skilful,\nsensible, and faithful, but it can walk only in the old, beaten tracks.\nIt can classify and arrange, but it can never discover or invent. Talent\ncan understand and admire the mechanical powers; Genius puts them in\nharness, and makes them traverse land and sea to do his bidding. Talent\nloves to gaze on the fair forms of nature, and depicts them upon canvas\nwith skill and truth, neither adding to nor subtracting from its model.\nGenius seizes upon the hints that nature gives, and without being false\nto her, makes use only of that which helps to make up the beautiful, the\nsublime, or the terrible; showing the power that is within nature rather\nthan nature herself. Talent sees life as it is, and so describes it, if\nit ventures into the domain of literature. Genius sees life as it is\ncapable of being, and hence comes poetry and romance, depicting heroes\nand heroines, monsters and fiends, types rather than representatives of\nthe human race. Talent perceives only the actualities of things, Genius\ntheir possibilities. Talent is content with things as they are, while\nGenius is ever striving to bring out latent capacities in whatever it\ndeals with. If true to its higher impulses, Genius is ever striving to\ncome nearer \"the first good, first perfect, and first fair\"; if false,\nit degrades and deforms everything it touches.\n\nMankind differ from each other in degree, but not in kind. By his power\nof thinking, a man has talent; by his power of imagining, genius.\nQuick-wittedness is genius in its lowest form,--genius applied to\nmaterial life in its daily ongoings. The power for resource in\nemergencies is genius in a higher form. Invention--the putting together\nwith an adequate purpose two things or ideas that never went together\nbefore--is genius in another form.\n\nAdmitting that men differ from each other, not in kind, but in degree,\nthe question arises, Are all men capable of an equal degree of\ndevelopment? This may best be answered by comparison. All men are alike\nin the general conformation of their bodies; all have the same number of\nphysical organs, designed for the same purposes. The relative power of\nthese organs is, however, very different in different individuals.\nOne has a fine muscular frame, and delights in exercises of physical\nstrength, while effort of the brain is a weariness to him. Another has\na finely developed brain, and delights in intellectual labor, while his\nstrength of muscle is hardly sufficient for the absolute needs of life.\nOne has the digestion of an ostrich, while another lives only by painful\nabstinence; and so on with indefinite variety. We know that much may\nbe done by well-directed effort to overcome the weaknesses and\nimperfections of the body; but still there is a limit to this, and all\nmen cannot be strong and healthy alike. So it is with the powers of the\nmind. All men have the same number of powers,--this constitutes their\nhumanity; but the relative force of their development varies in each\nindividual. We know that a determined will works wonders in overcoming\nthe defects of the body, and it can do more in overcoming the defects\nof the mind, because the spiritual body of man is far more docile\nand flexible to the will than the natural body; but there must be\nlimitations here likewise: still, progress is eternal, and no man can\ntell beforehand of how much he is capable.\n\nIn cultivating the powers of the mind, the first step is to admit\ndistinctly to one's self the fact of human responsibility; to feel that\nwe are stewards to whom the Lord has intrusted certain talents, and that\nwe are responsible to him for the use we make of them. Indolence will\nperhaps tell us that we are of very little consequence, and that it\nis not worth while for us to trouble ourselves about developing our\nunderstandings; that it is vanity in us to suppose that we can be of\nmuch use in the world; that we have but little leisure, and may as well\namuse ourselves with books and society; for we need recreation, wearied\nas we are with the cares of life. Let us answer each of these excuses by\nitself; and first, we are of so little consequence. If the tempter\ntake this form to slacken your efforts, tell him you are one of God's\nchildren, and therefore, by your birthright, of eternal consequence;\nthat he who is faithful in the least things thereby proves his capacity\nfor being faithful in much, and that by showing your willingness to\nserve the Lord in the small things of life, you are fitting yourself for\nserving him in large things, if not in this world, yet in the world to\ncome. Moreover, is not every one of the highest consequence to himself;\nand is not the least of human beings as much interested to save his own\nsoul as the greatest? Then, as to use in this world, you are responsible\nto the fullest extent of your abilities for the influence you exert in\nyour sphere as entirely as is the greatest of human beings in his. No\none is so small that he brings no influence to bear upon the social\ncircle; no one so insignificant that he does not exert an influence,\neven by the expression of his countenance, though he may speak no word.\nWhere can we find a circle that is not shadowed, as by a cloud, if one\ncountenance appears within it darkened by sullenness, ill-humor, or\ndiscontent? Where one that is not warmed and cheered, as by a sunbeam,\nif one enters it whose features glow with good-humor, contentment, and\nsatisfaction? Then does not the command to love our neighbor make us\neven responsible for the expressions our faces wear? In relation to the\nplea for recreation and amusement, it can readily be shown how these may\nbe made subservient to a true and high cultivation of the understanding.\nWhile few are slow to admit our accountability in all that relates to\nthe cultivation of the Affections, many seem to suppose, that in what\nrelates to the Understanding we may, without wrong, follow our own\ninclinations. This opinion comes from a false estimate of the nature\nand uses of the Understanding. If considered as a mere receptacle for\nLatin and Greek, Mathematics and Metaphysics, Science and Literature, we\nmay, without moral turpitude or virtue, abstractly considered, follow\nour own inclinations; but the Understanding will all the time be growing\neither stronger or weaker, wiser or more foolish, whether we study them\nor whether we let them alone. This action of the Understanding cannot go\non without influencing the Affections. The one is as much the gift of\nGod as the other, and each alike demands a healthful nutriment. An\nUnderstanding whose attributes are ignorance and folly can never promote\na healthful growth of the Affections.\n\nIt has been already said that the Understanding of a great majority of\nhuman beings can be reached only through its imaginative side. Every one\nwho is accustomed to children knows that this is universally true of\nthem. Tell a child an abstract truth, and it falls dead upon his ear;\nbut illustrate the same truth in a little story, and he is quick to\nestimate its justice. This continues true of most persons during their\nwhole lives, so that it is vain to attempt touching their minds in any\nother way than by presenting them with some image illustrating the truth\ninculcated. Those who are capable of receiving an abstract truth without\nsuch an image are frequently so from the fact that the moment such a\ntruth is presented to their Understanding, their Imagination is prompt\nto furnish the corresponding image. Unless this is done either by the\nspeaker or the listener, the truth is apt to be only a useless piece of\nlumber stored away in the thoughts. The whole secret of the fascinating\npower of the novelist lies in his telling us of all that is most\ninteresting to humanity, and presenting everything to the mind in\nimages.\n\nMost persons have so many duties to perform, that they have little time\nfor voluntary employment, and then they want recreation, which, if they\nread, they say they can gain only through works of Imagination. There is\nnothing to object to in this, if such works be well selected and read\nwisely. There are many bad ways of reading novels; but there are two\nto be especially avoided; firstly, vitiating the Affections by reading\nimpure novels; and secondly, weakening the powers of the Understanding\nby glancing through novels merely for the sake of the story. To\nread novels of doubtful or bad morality is as likely to corrupt the\nAffections as to associate with low and wicked companions. There is an\nabundant supply of pure and noble compositions of this sort on which the\nImagination may feed without fear. If it morbidly craves the licentious\npictures that come from the pen of such writers as Ainsworth or George\nSand, its longings should be resisted as steadfastly as those which\nincline us to the gaming table or other scenes of licentious indulgence.\nOn the other hand, the danger to the Understanding from skimming novels\nis far too much overlooked. It is not recreation, but dissipation, not\na renewal, but a destruction, of the powers to read in this way. If you\nwould be benefited by what you read, learn to read critically. Look at\nthe characters, and see if they be natural and well drawn; observe the\nmorality, and see if it be true or false; examine the style, and see if\nit be good or bad, graceful or awkward, distinct or vague. Novel-writing\nis one of the fine arts, and by looking upon it as such, you may\ncultivate your taste and discrimination to an extent you little dream\nof.\n\nImagination is the marriage of Thought and Affection, and the Fine Arts\nare its first-born children, and represent humanity in all its phases\nmore fully and truly than any other department of art or science. What\nwe know as the useful arts, which are born of man's love for physical\nease and pleasure, are of comparatively modern date; but history\ngoes not back to the time when the mind of man first took delight in\nfashioning and admiring the products of the fine arts. Many suppose them\nGod-given and coeval with the birth of man. Music, painting, sculpture,\npoetry, and romance are the five departments of the fine arts. When\nthese are studied and loved merely for amusement, they are of little or\nno use; if they are made vehicles for filling the mind with impure and\nevil images, they are shocking abuses; but if they subserve pure and\nholy purposes, elevating the soul towards all that is beautiful and\ngood, they are true Apostles of the Word. Their ministrations are almost\nif not quite universal. It would be hard to find a human being whose\nsoul is not stirred by one or other of them.\n\nComparatively few persons have it in their power to enjoy the delight\nand the refining influence that are derived from the highest exhibitions\nof skill in those departments of the fine arts that address themselves\nto the eye and the ear; but poetry and romance, the most intellectual\nand the most varied of them all, are accessible to every one. As those\nblessings that are far off and difficult to be attained are usually\nthose which are most highly prized, we often find persons sighing for\nthe culture to be obtained from music, painting, and sculpture, and\noverlooking or undervaluing the higher culture to be derived from poetry\nand romance. The best gifts of Heaven are always those which are most\nuniversal. Let any one read the plays of Shakespeare, the poems of\nMilton, and the novels of Scott carefully and critically as he would\nstudy a gallery of pictures, and he will find his taste refined and\nelevated as much as it could be by a visit to the Vatican. The genius of\nthese authors is to the full as high and noble and original as that of\nRaphael, Angelo, or Titian. The means of culture are not far-fetched and\ndear-bought. They lie around us everywhere, and to make use of them is a\nluxurious recreation of the mind. What mother, wearied and worn by the\ncares of maternity, what laborer, exhausted with toil, what student,\nfaint with striving for fame, but would be refreshed and renewed for\nthe warfare of life by forgetting it all for a little while in the\nrealms of the ideal world?\n\nThe common, vulgar misuse of novel-reading by the silly, the\nempty-headed, and the corrupt, should not blind us to its benefits.\nThere are those who in music, painting, and sculpture find only\nnutriment for sensuality and impurity. Shall we, therefore, deny to all,\nand banish from the world the refining ministrations of beauty in form\nand color and sweet sounds? As justly may we wage war upon the wayside\nflowers because the children are now and then tardy at school from\nstopping to gather them. The Creator could never have strown beauty\nbroadcast upon the face of the earth if it had no use. The very\nabundance of this nutriment offered to our love of beauty is evidence\nof its value; the very fact that we can abuse this love so fearfully is\nproof of its capacity for elevated usefulness.\n\nReading good works of Imagination in the thoughtful way that has been\ndescribed will be very likely to rouse an action in the mind that will\nmake it crave something more solid; and all should learn, if possible,\nto love instructive books. The brain that is overtasked by muscular\nlabor--for the nervous energy of the brain is exhausted by physical\neffort as well as by mental--is the only one that is excusable for\nrefreshing itself only with images from the ideal world. There are\nSabbaths of rest to all sometimes, when opportunity may be found to gain\nsomething of a more nutritious quality; when, through biography we may\nlearn to know some good and great character that will ever after stand\nin the mind an image of excellence to cheer us on our way, and make us\nfeel with joy that there is power in us to do likewise; or perhaps some\nbook of science that will enlarge our ideas of the wisdom and goodness\nof the Creator of us all. It should ever be remembered, that those\nwhose minds are empty of images of goodness and truth are, almost of\nnecessity, constantly becoming more and more full of images of evil and\nfalsehood. Jealousy, envy, discontent, and love of scandal, are among\nthe earliest products of an idle, empty mind. We are not, however,\ndependent upon, books for the means of cultivating the Imagination.\nThere is a training of this power within itself, a morality of\nImagination, that daily life compels us to observe if we would be\npractical, moral beings.\n\nThe first requisites in a healthy, well-developed Imagination are truth\nand distinctness. To those who deem Imagination but another name for\nfiction and falsehood, it may seem a contradiction in terms to talk of a\ntrue Imagination; but it is not so. Works of fiction charm us always in\nproportion as they seem true, and it is the morbid Imagination only that\ndelights in falsehood. We sometimes see persons who, without apparent\nintention of falsehood, seem incapable of speaking the truth. If they\nrelate a circumstance that has passed under their own observation, or\ndescribe anything that they have seen, they add here and diminish there,\ndistort this and give a new color to that, in such a manner that the\nhearer receives an impression of nothing as it really is. If there seem\nto be no malicious or evil design in all this, such persons are commonly\ncalled very imaginative; they should be called persons of unregulated,\nunprincipled Imaginations. They do not bring Imagination under the sway\nof conscience, and their power of appreciating the truth will grow less\nand less until Imagination becomes a living lie.\n\nVisionary persons form another class of those who do not regulate\nImagination by the laws of him who is truth itself. With these,\nImagination is as false in relation to that which is to come, as with\nthe last described in relation to that which has already been. In their\nplans of life they reason from fancy instead of from fact, and their\nImaginations are filled with fantastic visions of things impossible,\ninstead of the clear, bright images of that, which may rationally be\nexpected to come to pass. Such persons perpetually wasting their powers\nby trying to do so many things that they can do nothing well, or by\nstriving to do some one thing that is impossible; thus rendering\nthemselves comparatively useless in society, and often even mischievous.\nTo avoid this error, it is needful to go back perpetually to Thought in\norder to obtain a solid foundation for Imagination to build upon. As\nImagination passes to and fro between Thought and Affection, it must\nremember that it is a messenger from one to the other, and must not\ninvent tales on the way, and so deceive Affection into acts of folly.\nThe facts of the message must be precisely such as Thought gave them,\nwhile their costume may be such as Imagination would have it. Thus the\nAffections will be roused to action in proportion as the eloquence of\nthe Imagination is more or less intense, When it speaks in \"words that\nburn,\" if it speak from itself, it will rouse the Affections to wild\nfanaticism; but if it speak from Thought, it will waken enthusiasm in\nthe heart, such as shall bear it steadfastly onward in the path of duty,\n\"without haste and without rest.\" Distinctness of Imagination may be\ncultivated by carefully observing things we wish to remember, and\nthen calling up their forms before the mind's eye, and endeavoring to\ndescribe them just as they are, in words, by writing, or by drawing;\nand then reexamining to see where we have erred, and correcting our\nmistakes. If this be done from a genuine love of truth, the Imagination\nwill soon become accurate and trustworthy. In reading, strive to bring\nwhat is read before the mind's eye, and so impress it upon the memory\nin images. This process quickens the power of memory, and enables it to\nretain much more than it otherwise could. If the writer be imaginative,\nit is easily done; but if not, we must strive to make up for his\ndeficiencies by our own efforts. Reading history and travels,\nconstant reference to maps and pictures fixes facts upon the memory\nsimply by transferring them to the Imagination. Memory is not a faculty\nby itself. What we only think about we remember feebly; what we image in\nour minds we remember much more strongly; what we love we never forget\nwhile we continue to love it.\n\nIn cultivating the Imagination, we must be sure to allow Thought to go\nwith it hand in hand; remembering that the two together make up the\nUnderstanding. We must be careful to search conscientiously for true\nthoughts before allowing Imagination to shape them into forms. In order\nto find the truth, we must love it for its own sake, and must seek it\nwith straightforward earnestness, because we believe it needful to the\nbuilding up of Character. If we seek it from any less worthy motive, our\nsight will become morbid, we shall lose the power of knowing it when\nit is found, and shall be liable to mistake for it some miserable\nfalsehood. If we allow Imagination too much liberty, zeal will run\nbefore knowledge; if we allow it too little, knowledge will run before\nzeal. In the former, case we shall be liable to fanaticism; in the\nlatter, to sluggishness. In the former case we shall be ready to\nundertake to do anything that attracts us, whether we know how to do\nit or not; in the latter, we shall not be willing to try to do what we\nmight. The lack of Affection prevents us from desiring to do a thing,\nthe lack of Imagination makes us think we cannot do a thing, the lack of\nThought of course makes it impossible to do a thing; for we cannot do a\nthing till we know that it is to be done.\n\nIn our religion, Thought gives us faith, Imagination gives us hope, and\nAffection gives us charity. Religion does not become a personal matter\nto us until it takes the form of hope. While it is simply a thing of\nthought it is cold, barren faith, and we care nothing for it; but when\nImagination touches it, faith is changed to hope, and we begin to\nperceive that religion is a thing to be desired in our own persons.\nReligious fear, too, is the child of Imagination. Devils believe and\ntremble, because they hate goodness. Angels believe and hope, because\nthey love it.\n\nEvery one has within his mind an imaginary heaven, within and around\nwhich all cherished images arrange themselves, according as they are\nmore or less dear. We should search our minds, and learn what are the\nattributes of our heaven, if we would know whether we are tending\ntowards the true heaven that is prepared for those who order their lives\naright. We shall, if we do this, be sure to find that there are certain\nimages rising very often in our minds, into which our thoughts seem to\ncrystallize when disturbed by no interruption from without; and these.\nimages make up all that we believe of heaven; they are the kingdom of\nheaven within us. We may, with our lips, acknowledge faith in a pure\nheaven wherein dwelleth righteousness; but unless our ideas fall\nhabitually into forms of purity, there is no genuine faith in such a\nheavenly kingdom. We truly believe only in what we love. We may learn\nfrom books and from instructors a great deal about the science of\ngoodness, and may talk of such knowledge until we fancy that we should\nbe happy in a heaven where goodness reigned triumphant; and yet we may\nbe entirely deceived in this fancy, and our hearts may all the while be\nfixed on things so entirely apart from the true heaven, that nothing\ncould make us more miserable than the being forced to dwell within its\ngates. If we would test the quality of our faith, we must watch the\nimages and pictures that rise habitually before our mind's eye in our\nhours of reverie; for they faithfully represent the secret affections of\nthe heart. If these images are forms of purity and goodness, it is well\nwith us; the kingdom of heaven is truly there; but if they represent\nonly forms of things that belong to this world, if dress and equipage\nand social distinction haunt our longings, if visions of pride,\nvain-glory, and luxury are ever prompt to rise,--visions that belong\nonly to the love of self and of the world,--visions that do not beckon\nus onward to the performance of duty, but only entice us with the\nallurements of sensuality and self-indulgence; or still worse, if\ndiscontent, envy, and malice darken the temple of Imagination with their\nscowls, the kingdom of heaven is far from us as the antipodes. This\nimaginary heaven that selfishness and worldliness have built up within\nus is in truth but an emanation from hell. We may talk of heaven, and\nobserve its outward forms all our lives while harboring this demoniacal\ncrew within; and we shall grow ever harder and colder with intolerance\nand bigotry under their influence; nor can we ever have that joy in\nheavenly hope that belongs to those whose hearts cleave to all that is\npure and true, and whose souls are therefore filled with the imagery of\nvirtue.\n\nWe cannot expect, in this life, to attain to a state of regeneration so\nentire that no images of evil shall ever come to our souls; but we may\nhope to become so far advanced that we shall not welcome and entertain\nthem when they come; but shall recognize them at once as often as they\nappear, and drive them from us. This much, however, we cannot do with\nour own strength, for that is weakness; but if we strive, looking ever\nto the Lord, whose strength is freely given to all who devoutly ask his\naid, we shall be armed as with the flaming sword of cherubim, turning\nevery way to guard the tree of life.\n\n\n\nAFFECTION.\n\n\nLove is the Life of Man.--SWEDENBORG.\n\nWith the heart man believeth unto righteousness.--ST. PAUL.\n\n\nThe Affections are the most interior of all the attributes of man,--they\nare in fact his spiritual life. The acquisitions of the Understanding\ntruly appertain to man only when the Affections have set their seal upon\nthem. We may store our memories with knowledge and wisdom gathered from\nevery source, but until they are grasped by the Affections they do\nnot belong to us; for till then they do not become part and parcel of\nourselves. So long as we merely know a thing we make no use of it. The\nfacts of knowledge, as they lie in the Understanding, may exhibit a rank\ngrowth of thoughts and images; but though flowers may adorn them, they\nwill all perish barrenly; while, if the warmth of the Affections is\nthrown upon them, the rich clusters of fruit speedily appear; not\nonly affording present delight, but promising to be the parents of\nnumerous offspring yet to come.\n\nThe Affections cannot be analyzed and comprehended with the same kind of\ndistinctness with which we comprehend Thought and Imagination; because\nthat which belongs to the Understanding can be expressed or described\nin words, and in that form be passed from one to another; while the\nAffections exist only in forms of emotion that cannot be distinctly\ntranslated into words. A glance of the eye or a touch of the hand often\ntransfers an emotion from one mind to another with a facility and\nclearness of which words are incapable. There are no things we believe\nso completely as those which we _feel_ to be true, yet there are none\nabout which we reason so imperfectly.\n\nThe motive-power in man is Affection. What he loves he wills, and what\nhe wills he performs. Our Character is the complex of all that we love.\nWe often think we love traits of Character that we cannot possess; but\nwe deceive ourselves. All that we truly love we strive to attain,\nand all that we strive after rightly we do attain. The cause of\nself-deception on this point is, that we think we love a certain trait\nof Character when we only love its reward; or that we hate other traits\nwhen we only hate their punishment.\n\nThe passionate man perceives that his ungoverned temper causes him\ntrouble, and occasions him to commit acts of injustice, and to say\nthings for which he is afterwards ashamed; and he exclaims, \"I wish I\ncould acquire self-control; but alas! a hasty temper is natural to me,\nand I cannot overcome it.\" Tell such a man that he is just what he loves\nto be, and he will deny it without hesitation; and yet the love of\ncombating and of overcoming by force are the darling loves of his heart;\nand when he fancies that he is wishing to overcome these propensities,\nhe is thinking only of the worldly injury his temper may occasion him,\nand not of the hatefulness of anger in itself. So soon as we begin to\nhate anger for its own sake we begin to put it away; but while we only\nhate the bad consequences of anger we cleave to its indulgence. So it is\nwith indolence. We know, perhaps, that we are indolent, and we perceive\nthat this vice stands in the way of our attaining to many things that\nwe desire, and we believe that we wish to become diligent, when we are\nsteadfastly loving a life of indolence, and wishing not for diligence,\nbut for its rewards. What we suppose to be dislike of indolence is only\ndislike of the consequences that indolence brings in its train. So the\ndrunkard sometimes goes to his grave cheating himself with the idea that\nthe lust of the flesh binds and enslaves him; and that he really loves\nthe virtue of temperance, while in truth he is loving sensual indulgence\nwith all his heart. Possibly temperance reformers might be more\nsuccessful in reclaiming such slaves from their sin if they would talk\nless of the punishments the drunkard brings upon himself in the shape\nof poverty, and disease, and shame, and enlarge more upon the moral\ndegradation to his own soul which he fastens upon himself both for this\nlife and the life to come.\n\nWe are all of us perpetually liable to gross self-deception by thus\ntransferring in fancy our love or our hate for the consequences of vices\nor virtues to the vices or virtues themselves. If we made this transfer\nin fact, we should at once set about gaining the one and putting away\nthe other; but so long as we believe that sin dwells within us without\nour consent and approval we become daily more and more the servants of\nsin.\n\nWe not unfrequently see a very poor family having an intense desire for\neducation, and their poverty, instead of putting its acquisition out of\ntheir reach, seems only to stimulate their ardor of pursuit. One half of\ntheir time will perhaps be spent in the most arduous labor in order to\nprocure the means of obtaining the aid of books and teachers to enrich\nthe other half; and no self-denial in dress or physical indulgence seems\npainful, when weighed against the pleasure of increasing the means of\neducation. Here is genuine love of learning, and the result of its\nefforts will prove the truth of the old adage, \"Where there is a\nwill there is a way.\" This family is acting out its life's love\nunderstandingly and with fixed purpose.\n\nPerhaps in the very next house to this is another family of not nearly\nso small property. They too profess great love of and desire for\neducation; but there is no corresponding effort. They must dress with a\ncertain degree of gentility, and they must not make an effort to earn\nmoney by any means that would seem to lower their standing in society;\nand, moreover, they are indolent, and the effort that the denial of\nphysical indulgences requires seems insupportable to them. The parents\nof this family will often be heard lamenting that their children cannot\nhave an education; and if one should venture to indicate the possibility\nof their obtaining one for themselves as their neighbors are doing, they\nwill reply that their children have not strength to struggle along in\nthat way, or that they are too proud to get an education in a way that\nwould seem to place them in point of social rank below any of their\nfellow-students. This family are acting out their life's love just as\nthoroughly, though not as understandingly, as the other. They do not\ndesire education from love for it, but because it would give them a\ncertain standing in society, and not having the means of indulging\nvanity in this direction, they turn to dress and idleness, as easier\nsigns of what is vulgarly called gentility. Still these persons would\ndeem you unjust and unkind if you told them they were living in\nignorance because they had no true love for education; and they would\nhardly deem you sane should you tell them that the Character of every\nhuman being is the sum and continent and expression of all that he best\nloves.\n\nWe cannot truly love anything that we do not understand,--anything that\nhas not a distinct existence in our thoughts and imaginations; and all\nof Character that we love and can clearly image to ourselves we can\nbring out into life. The Affections are the children of the Will, and\nif the Will be determined and steadfast, there is no limit but the\nfiniteness of humanity to the progress in whatever is undertaken. When\nwe love ardently, all effort seems light compared with the good we\nexpect to derive from the possession of that which we love. If we become\nweary and faint by the way, it is because we lack intensity of love.\n\nIn reading the lives of distinguished men, we find that, in the pursuit\nof whatever has raised them above the mass of men, they knew no\ndiscouragement, acknowledged no impossibility. We read of travellers\nwho, to satisfy a burning curiosity for discovery, pass through peril\nand fatigue that is fearful for us even to think of; and yet they, so\nintense was their love for what they sought, encountered all with a\ndetermination that made suffering and danger indifferent, nay, almost\nacceptable to them. So the inventor labors, year after year, through\npoverty and privation, compensated for all by the anticipation of the\nsatisfaction that will be his when his darling object is attained. So\nthe student, the philanthropist, the statesman, labors in like manner,\nlighted by thought, cheered by imagination, warmed by love. Needful as\nmay be the light and the cheer, it is the warmth only that can give\nlife. We may know and imagine, and yet perform nothing; but when love\nis wakened, performance becomes a necessity of our being; and every\nsacrifice of momentary pleasure we make in order to obtain the fruition\nof our desires is not only without pain, but it is sweet as self-denial\nto a lover, if perchance he may give pleasure thereby to the object of\nhis passion. It is the merest self-delusion for any one to sit still and\nsay, \"I love this or I love that trait of Character; but it is not in my\npowder to gain it.\" They who love do not sit still and lament. Love is\never up and doing and striving. They who sit still and lament, love the\nindulgence of their own indolence better than aught else, and what they\nlove they attain. .\n\nIt is of course impossible that all should become distinguished by the\nefforts they may make in life; and this is not what we should aim at\nin the training of Character. To be distinguished implies something\ncomparative,--implies, if we aim after becoming so, that we seek to be\nsuperior to others. This is not an aim that can be admitted in Christian\ntraining. Character is something between us and our God, and every\nthought we admit that savors of rivalry or emulation in our efforts\ndegrades them, and takes from them the sanctity that can alone insure\nsuccess. The moment that finds us saying, \"I am glad that I am better\nthan my neighbor,\" or even, \"I desire to be better than I wish to see\nhim,\" that moment finds us destitute of a true conception of Christian\ncharity. We cannot attain to a healthy growth of Character until,\nsmitten by the beauty of excellence, we worship its perfection in our\nLord and Saviour, and with hearts fixed on him, strive, trusting in his\naid, to be perfect even as he is perfect. In this effort we must shut\nout from our hearts every emotion that cannot be admitted into our\nprayers to him for light and strength. Are we sorrowful that our\nneighbor is gaining upon the way faster than ourselves, let us remember\nthat this emotion is virtually a prayer that his strength may be\nlessened for our sake; and let us change it as quickly as we can to a\nmore earnest longing after our own growth, without comparing ourselves\nwith any human being. Elation, if we think we have passed another in the\nrace, is a vice of the same character as envy at another for surpassing\nus. Such envy and such elation are children of that pride of heart that\nshuts the door on all brotherly love. It is that vice by which Cain\nfell, and so far as we admit it into our bosoms we voluntarily become\nthe children of Cain.\n\nThe Lord tells us to seek first the kingdom of heaven and its\nrighteousness, and that all other good things shall be added unto us.\nWe cannot suppose he meant by this that the reward of virtue was to be\nfound in houses and lands, or worldly wealth of any kind, although he\nenumerated these things in the promise; for we know that these are,\nperhaps, as often possessed in abundance by the basest of men as by the\nmost virtuous. How, then, are we to understand this promise? To seek the\nkingdom of heaven and its righteousness is to serve the Lord with all\nthe heart, and soul, and mind, and strength; and the rewards appropriate\nto such service surely cannot be counted in silver and gold. These may\nadorn the happiness that virtue gives; but they cannot constitute it.\nHe who labors simply for the love of wealth is content if he obtain\nthe reward he seeks; but he who labors to obtain the fully developed\ncharacter of a man,--the image and likeness of God,--if he attain\nnothing beyond wealth, would feel such reward to be only a mockery\nof his desires. Such labor lifts us above the happiness external\npossessions can give, and bestows upon us a wealth that the world cannot\ntake away. He who wishes to serve God acceptably, cultivates all his\ncapacities to the best of his ability, in order to increase his power\nof leading a useful life, and is therefore constantly adding to\nhimself possessions that can never leave him;--rational and spiritual\npossessions which, in relation to our internal life, correspond to\nworldly possessions in relation to our external life, and were therefore\nsignified in the parabolic language of the Lord.\n\nWhen the philosopher of old lost the library he had been all his\nlife-long collecting, he exclaimed, \"My books have done me little\nservice if they have not taught me to live happily without them.\" He had\nmade their contents his own by diligent study, and no power could take\nthis from him, and they had made him wise by their instructions, so that\nhe could possess his soul in patience under external losses of any kind.\nThe man who studies books, though he may not own a volume, makes them\nhis own far more completely than the bibliomaniac who spends a fortune\nin filling his library with choice editions of works life is not long\nenough to read. So it is with works of art. He who can most truly\nappreciate them is he who really owns them. One man will fill his house\nwith pictures and statues and all beautiful works of art, because the\npossession of such things gives distinction in society. He collects\nthem, not because he loves art, but because he loves himself; and\nvalues them precisely in proportion to the sums of money they have cost\nhim. Those among his visitors who love art for its own sake, and have\nlearned to appreciate such things justly, have a pleasure incomparably\nmore interior and profound in gazing upon them than he who rejoices in\nhaving paid large sums of money for them; and surely no one of such\nvisitors would exchange his power of appreciation for the others\nexternal possession of them. Who, then, is the true owner, if not he who\nfeels most delight in contemplating them, and who has the most delicate\nperception of all their shades of beauty?\n\nIn the highest of all enjoyments of the eye, that which we derive from\nthe contemplation of external nature, the man whose soul is most deeply\nthrilled by its beauty, whose heart rises in worship as he gazes upon\nthe mountains in their calm sublimity, and remembers how the Lord\nfrequented such heights for prayer, and who wanders beneath, the shadows\nof the woods, feeling that \"the groves were God's first temples,\" this\nman surely has the kingdoms of the earth in closer possession than he\nwho holds thousands of acres in fee.\n\nWhatever possessions we can name, whether external or internal, whether\nof the heart, the head, or the hand, it is love by which we truly hold\nthem. Nothing is ours that we do not love, and through love we obtain\npossession of all that our hearts crave.\n\nThe love, however, that is so strong to obtain must be no superficial\nsentiment, but an inward passion of the heart. So long as we live in\nthought and imagination we are very apt to mistake mere sentiment for\nlove; but the difference will show itself so soon as we begin to act.\nSentiment is soon wearied by labor and difficulty in its pursuit of\nmental attainment, soon disgusted by squalor or offended by ingratitude\nin its attempts at benevolence, soon discouraged by the hardness of its\nown heart when it endeavors to acquire self-control, or to gain such\nvirtues as seem in the abstract lovely and delightful. In short,\nsentiment wants a royal road to whatever it strives to reach. Love, on\nthe contrary, is too much in earnest to be dismayed by any impediment.\nIt will not stop half-way and make excuses for its short-comings. It\nrests not in its course until it has gained what it seeks; and then it\nrests not long, for all true love \"grows by what it feeds on,\" and every\nheight of excellence we reach does but enlarge the field of vision and\nshow us new countries to be won.\n\nAdmitting love to be, indeed, this intense and all-pervading power, and\nthe very life of our souls, the importance of training ourselves to love\nonly that which is pure and true at once becomes manifest. The heights\nof heaven are not farther from the depths of hell than are the results\nthat come to us if we seek the pure and the true from those which\ninevitably occur when the choice falls upon the impure and the false.\nLet no one think to dwell in safety because he has not deliberately said\nto himself, \"I choose the impure and the false\"; for if the pure and the\ntrue be not deliberately and voluntarily chosen, the heart out of\nits own inherent selfishness and worldliness will unconsciously sink\ngradually, but surely, into the impure and the false. There is no\nhalf-way resting-place for humanity between good and evil. We are always\nsinking, unless we are rising; going backward, unless we are pressing\nforward.\n\nMuch is said of the truth and purity of childhood, and they are very\nbeautiful, for the angels that care for children do continually behold\nthe face of the Heavenly Father,--do stand perpetually within the\nsphere of absolute truth and purity. But soon the child slips the\nleading-strings of its guardian spirit, and comes into its own liberty;\nand now, unless it freely chooses to follow with willing and constant\nstep in the same path wherein it has thus far been led, it will wander\nfrom side to side, increasing at each turning the distance that\nseparates it from the way of life, until at last it may wander so far\nthat it loses the desire and even the memory which might lead it\nto return. Vicious propensities will, perhaps, begin to show\nthemselves; and in the hardened and shameless youth it will be hard to\nrecognize any trace of the innocence of infancy. But, perhaps, instead\nof viciousness, carelessness is developed, and youth is brightened by\ngayety, amiability, and ready generosity. Occasional derelictions from\ntruth and honor find ready apologists among friends, because the boy or\nthe girl is so \"good-hearted\"; but a closer inspection readily shows\nthat the goodness of heart is very superficial, that the left hand is\noften unjust while the right is generous, that a lie is no offence to\nthe conscience, if it be a good-natured one, and in short that very\nlittle dependence can be placed on the uprightness that has no firmer\nbase than good-heartedness. Young persons of this sort are sometimes\nled away to commit some act so base that their eyes are opened to the\ndangers that beset the path in which they are travelling, and in sorrow\nand dismay they turn to seek the way of innocence whence they had\nwandered. Too often, however, the carelessness of youth passes into the\nindifference of adult life and the callousness of old age. What can be\nmore revolting than an old age cold, hard, and selfish? Yet this is the\nnatural and almost unavoidable result of a youth that does not fix its\nheart in unwavering love upon truth and purity,--whose aspirations are\nnot for those things which cannot grow old, and which the world can\nneither give nor take away. A heart filled with love for excellence can\nnever grow old; for it will go on increasing in all that is lovely and\ngracious so long as it lives; and where there is perpetual growth of the\nfaculties there can be no decay. We grow old, not by wear, but by rust;\nand we can never become the prey of rust while our faculties are kept\nbright by the power and the exercise of earnest love. The fleshly body\nmust grow old and die, for it is of the earth earthy; but it is by our\nown weakness and indolence if our spiritual body ever gathers a wrinkle\non its brow. When the fleshly body drops from us, what must be our\nshame and our despair if we rise in a spiritual body deformed with evil\npassions, or corrupt with the leprosy of sin. Too many, alas! spend all\ntheir energies in feeding and clothing and sheltering the natural body,\nleaving the spiritual body hungry and naked and cold. We sometimes hear\nwonder expressed that a mind thus starved has become super-annuated and\ndoating, while the body still carries on its functions with vigor; but\nhad the body been treated with a similar neglect, it would have long\nbefore returned to the dust. The growth of the spiritual body should be\ncontinuous from the cradle through eternity; and seldom can any other\nreason, than our own neglect, be assigned for its disease or decay. The\nbread of life is perpetually offered for its support, and if it refuses\nto eat, its death is on its own head.\n\nInfants who pass into the spiritual world before they are touched by a\ntaint of earth are, probably, through the absence of all evil in those\nwho are suffered to approach them, trained into a purity of Affection\nthat fills their whole being with its genial warmth, descending, or\nraying out, into all the imaginations of the soul and all the thoughts\nof the mind. Thus they serve God in the order which the Saviour\ncommanded, with all the heart, and soul, and mind. They, however, who\nremain long on earth, almost without exception, have the order of their\nnature so reversed, that their powers must be converted to the right,\nin the order of St. Paul, ascending from the lowest to the highest; or,\nwhich is the same thing, passing from the outmost to the inmost. The\nlowest and most external part of the being must be made obedient to the\nlaws of Divine Order, and on this as a foundation must the higher and\ninternal nature be built up, until it forms a sanctuary; and upon its\naltar shall fire from heaven descend so often as a gift is offered.\n\nThe practice of external vice, just in proportion to its grossness,\nincapacitates us for perceiving what is true or loving what is good. By\nvice is not meant crime such as exposes us to punishment by the law\nof the land, but sins against the laws of God, that bring their own\npunishment with them, by defacing the image of God in the soul. There is\nalways need of searching the heart to find if we have committed crimes\nagainst the soul; for the laws of the land deal only with the excessive\nderelictions from right which we cannot ignorantly commit. We may,\nhowever, go on unconsciously in the commission of great sins until our\nhearts become hardened against all emotions of heavenly affection, and\nour eyes blinded so that we cannot distinguish the difference between\ndarkness and light. If we would avoid this fearful condition, we must\noften go to the Gospels, and place the words of the Lord, in their\nvarious teachings, especially as they come to us from the Mount, as it\nwere in judgment over against us, and reading verse by verse, fathom the\ndepths of our hearts, and confess whether we are guilty or no. Would we\nescape such guilt, we must study these instructions again and again,\nuntil, as Moses commanded of the laws of the elder Scripture, \"they\nshall be with us when we sit in our homes, or walk by the way, or lie\ndown, or rise up. And we shall bind them for a sign upon our hands, and\nthey shall be as frontlets between our eyes. And we shall write them\nupon the posts of our houses, and upon our gates.\"\n\nWhen we place the words of the Lord in judgment over against us, and\nfeel compelled to acknowledge our unfaithfulness to their requirements,\nthere is danger of our falling into despair through the consciousness\nthat is thus forced upon us of our want of love for the law of the Lord.\nThe indulgence of our own wills is so sweet to us, that we cannot see\nhow it is possible that the yoke of the Lord can ever become easy to our\nstiffened necks. We feel as though an obedience that did not spring from\ntrue love could not be called obedience, nay, was almost a sin; for it\nseems to savor of hypocrisy. In this state of mind, our only refuge is\nin that faith which St. Paul tells us \"is the substance of things hoped\nfor, the evidence of things unseen\"; and then, unless this faith be\nstrong enough to make us obey, though not from love, yet from a simple\nbelief that at any rate obedience is better than disobedience, our state\nis wretched indeed. Our rationality tells us that obedience is naught\nunless we love to obey, but an inward conviction of the soul--may we not\ncall it the voice of God?--entreats us, saying, \"this do, and thou shalt\nlive.\" If, in the ardor of our faith, we can forget our rationality, and\ncry, \"Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief\"; and if we force\nourselves to do that which we are commanded, though at first it may\nappear to us an act purely external and dead, we shall soon find, that,\nif planted in darkness, it is still a living seed, and the Lord will\nwater it till it shall spring into a growth of beauty that our hearts\nwill cleave to with delight.\n\nThe first obedience of the soul that has entered upon the way of\nregeneration is hardly less ignorant than that of the little child who\nobeys his parent without comprehending the use or propriety of his\ncommands; and, like that of the little child, it consists in abstaining\nfrom doing that which is wrong, rather than in doing that which is\nright. As the child grows older, he can look back upon those commands\nand understand them; and then he is filled with gratitude and love\ntowards his parent for putting them upon him. So he who seeks to love\nthe Lord must obey first, and understand afterward,--must keep the\ncommandments ere he can know the doctrines,--must abstain from doing\nwrong before the Lord can implant in his heart the love of doing right.\n\nIn the first stages of regenerating life we think we love the Lord,\nalthough we know that we do not love our fellow-beings as we ought; and\nwe cannot comprehend the truth, that he who does not love his brother,\nwhom he has seen, cannot love the Lord, whom he has not seen; and we\nthink it is much easier to be pious towards God than to be charitable\ntowards men. If our faith is strong enough to induce us to obey the\nexternal commandment of doing as we would be done by, the affection of\ntrue brotherly love by degrees grows up within us, we know not how, for\nthe spirit of God has breathed upon us when we were not aware; and then\nwe perceive how imperfect was the love we bore to the Lord, when we had\nnot learned to feel that the attribute which awakens true love for him\nis the perfect love he bears towards each one of us, and that we can\nappreciate this love only so far as we imitate it by feeling willing to\ndo all the good we can to every neighbor, without distinction of person,\nafter the manner in which he causes the sun to shine and the rain to\nfall alike upon the evil and upon the good.\n\nTo live thus in charity with all men is not to do external acts of\nbenevolence indiscriminately to all, without respect of person. There\nis a common, but erroneous, idea in the world, that simply to give is\ncharity. To live what many esteem a life of charity, that is a life\nof indiscriminate giving, is often to pay a bounty upon idleness and\nimprovidence, and to furnish the means of vicious indulgence. While\nremembering the command to give to those who ask, we must not forget the\nprohibition against casting pearls before swine. To give good things\nto those we have reason to suppose will abuse them is as wrong as to\nwithhold our gifts from those who would use them. To give ignorantly,\nwhen we know not the value of the claim upon our benevolence, is at best\nbut a negative virtue, and we should bear in mind that everything we\nbestow upon the unworthy is so much abridged from our means of aiding\nthe worthy. Many persons seem to suppose that charity consists entirely\nin alms-giving, while this is only its lowest form. Kind deeds and kind\nwords are as truly works of charity as pecuniary gifts, and we do not\nlead lives of charity unless we are as ready with those in the home\ncircle and in our social relations as with these among the poor. God\nshows his love to his children by providing them with sustenance for\nthe body, for the intellect, and for the affections, and if we would\nresemble him, we must show our love to the neighbor by being always\nready to minister to the wants of those around us, in whatever form they\nmay arise.\n\nWe are told to give even as we receive, and we are also told that we are\nstewards of the Lord; that is, that all our gifts are held in trust from\nhim; and we must use them in such a way that at his coming he may\nfind his own with usury. True charity never impoverishes. In outward\npossessions it would be hard to find a man who has made himself poor by\nacts of benevolence, for a just and wise benevolence is almost sure to\nbe accompanied by an orderly development of the faculties such as in our\ncountry makes prosperity almost certain. In intellectual attainments\nmost persons are familiar with the fact, that there is no way by which\nwe can so thoroughly confirm and make clear in our own minds anything\nthat we know, as by imparting it to another. In all that relates to the\naffectional part of our being, none can doubt that we grow by giving.\nThe more we love, the more we find that is lovely; and it is only in\nproportion as we love that we can learn to comprehend that God is\ninfinitely powerful by reason of his infinite love. If we would make our\none talent two, or our five talents ten, the best way to do it is by\ngiving of all that we have to those who are poorer than ourselves.\n\nEvery person has within him three planes of life, which constitute his\nbeing, and which, during the progress of regeneration, are successively\ndeveloped; viz., the natural, the spiritual, and the heavenly. With\nthose who lead an externally good life on the natural plane, that\nis, who act more from the impulses of a kind disposition or a blind\nobedience than from the light of Christian truth, charity consists\nmerely in supplying the natural wants of the neighbor by making him more\ncomfortable in his external condition; and this is well, for there is\nlittle, if any, use in trying to improve the inner man while the outer\nis bowed down with want or squalid with impurity. This is the basis\nof the higher planes of charity, the first in time, though lowest in\ndegree. There are those who think lightly of this form of charity,\nbecause it is lowest in degree, forgetting that it is absolutely\nessential as a basis for everything that is higher. This truth may be\nillustrated by the duties of the parents of a family. It is easy to\nperceive that the highest duty of parents is the spiritual training\nof their children, that the second is to give them an intellectual\neducation, while the third and lowest is to feed and clothe and shelter\ntheir bodies. This duty towards the body, although lowest in degree, is\nfirst in time; and ministering to the wants of the natural bodies of\ntheir children, that they may grow up strong and healthy, is the\nfirst duty to be performed in order to insure, so far as possible,\na trustworthy basis on which to build up their spiritual bodies. It\nshould, however, be distinctly kept in mind that this is only the lowest\nplane of parental duty, and that to rise no higher is, as it were, to\nlay a solid foundation with labor and expense, and then leave it with no\nsuperstructure, a monument of folly.\n\nFrom this class of charitable persons come those who found institutions\nand lead reforms having in view the amelioration of the physical\ncondition of the human race. In regarding this as the lowest class, no\ndisrespect towards it is intended, for it is absolutely essential as a\nbasis to the higher; but this foundation should be recognized as such by\nthe founder in order that he may adapt it to the superstructure, and\nnot elaborate the former at the expense of the latter. The parent may\nsquander his means upon fine clothes and sumptuous fare until he has\nnothing left for the intellectual education of his children; the State\nmay build palaces for the physical comfort of its paupers and criminals,\nuntil there is nothing left in the treasury to construct schoolhouses\nand colleges for the mental training of its virtuous children; the\nphilanthropist may so bestow his charities that the recipient will learn\nto feel that it is the duty of the rich to support the poor, and so\nbecome a pauper when he might have been a useful citizen.\n\nWith those whose brotherly love is of the second, or spiritual, degree,\ncharity is founded on the love of right, the love of giving to all their\njust due. Those of the first class will, perhaps, deem those of the\nsecond cold, yet a close observation will show that in the end more good\nis done to society through the efforts of the latter than of the former.\nWhere the generosity of the first would reform the condition of a\nmiserable neighborhood, by giving the sufferers food and raiment and\nshelter, the justice of the second would say all men should have the\nmeans of acquiring a support for themselves, and his efforts would be\nturned to providing employment, and encouraging a spirit of industry\namong the poor. Where the first would build almshouses and hospitals,\nthe second would build factories and workshops. The first would lavish\nall that he had in direct gifts to the poor, and then have nothing\nmore in his power to do for them, while the second, by husbanding his\nresources at first, would be able presently to place them beyond the\nneed of aid. The first will be so generous today that it will be hard\nfor him to be just tomorrow, while the second, by doing only justice\nnow, gains power to bring about the most generous results hereafter.\n\nThis second degree of charity or brotherly love should not ignore or\ncontemn the first, but build itself upon it. Justice must not forget\nmercy. The poor must not be suffered to starve before work can be\nprovided for them, or they be taught to do it. One Christian virtue does\nnot destroy that which lies beneath it, but rises to its true height by\nstanding upon it. We do not pull away the base of a structure because we\nwish its top to be more elevated.\n\nThe third, or heavenly, degree of charity results from love to the\nLord. This is the highest possible form of charity, and through its\ndevelopment man is brought into connection with the highest heavens. The\nfirst form of charity comes in great measure from a love of self. We\nobey its impulses because of our own personal distress at witnessing the\ndistress of others; and where unrestrained by higher principle,\nthese impulses often compel us to be unjust today because we were\nover-generous yesterday. The second form of charity results from true\nbrotherly love, that leads us to restrain impulse because principle puts\nit in our power to do so much more for those who need our aid. The third\nform is the fruit of love to the Lord. It is warmer than the first and\nwiser than the second. It develops the whole power of man, both rational\nand affectional, by leading him to the eternal source of all power,\nwhence cometh down to us all capacity to think and to love. Quickened by\nlove to the Lord, we shall perpetually feel that we are his stewards,\nand while we are filled with gratitude towards him, as the giver of\nevery good thing we possess, we shall equally be filled with desire to\ngive even as we have received, good measure, running over, and shaken\ntogether. Then we shall feel, that, if we would lead lives of true\ncharity, it must be by imitating the Lord, who showed forth his love\ntowards his children, first by giving them the earth and all that it\ncontained as an inheritance; secondly, by giving them the Word of his\ndivine truth to teach them the way in which they should walk; and\nthirdly, by coming in person to show them the reality of a divine\nlife. Finitely imitating this infinite example, as we advance in the\nregeneration of our Affections, we shall first give of our external\npossessions from the love of giving, and from a desire to make ourselves\nhappy by seeing others so. Next, we shall give from the knowledge of\ntruth that is in us, working with such wisdom as we possess, to help\nothers to make themselves happy. Finally, love to God will lead us to\nperceive that charity in the highest degree is the leading a good life;\nand that he who is pure and holy and faithful is a living form of\ncharity. While this state does not destroy, but fills full the two\npreceding ones it will perhaps diminish rather than increase the general\naction of the life upon society, because its tendency is to increase our\nearnestness in the performance of the immediate duties of life that are\nincluded in the family circle, and in all that relates to the particular\noccupation of the individual. This is the natural result of an interior\nlove to the Lord; for this makes us feel his immediate presence in all\nthe circumstances of daily life, and so causes us to look upon the duty\nthat lies nearest as that one which the Lord wishes us to perform first;\nand till that is done, prevents our seeking out duties more remote and\nless apparent.\n\nIn studying the material manifestations of the Divine Love and Wisdom,\nwe find that the perfection of each minutest part is a type of the\nperfection of the great whole. So in the material works of man, every\nwhole thing approaches perfection just in the degree that its several\nparts are perfect; and it is vain to labor for great results while we\noverlook minute details. So in life, society can never be a virtuous\nand happy whole until each individual, in his special vocation, fulfils\nevery duty pertaining to his station. If we would perform our quota of\nthe great whole, we must, each in his place, fulfil the duties that lie\naround us; and we must beware how we go out of our way in pursuit of\nduty, unless we are confident that we are not neglecting, or perhaps\ntrampling upon, a duty that lies directly in our path.\n\nThere is especial danger, at the present day, that many of us may need\nto be warned like the scribe of old, wearied with his task-work, not\nto seek great things for ourselves. As Baruch murmured because he must\nagain and again write out the words of Jeremiah, so we cry out wearily\nat the daily recurring duties of life, and would fain seek some great\nthing whereby to show forth our devotion to the truth. This is because\nour love to the Lord is not yet strong enough to regenerate our\nAffections. In proportion as this is accomplished, duty will become\nlovely to us, because it is what the Lord sets before us to do. We all\nknow how pleasant it is to do the will of those whom we most love on\nearth, and so would it be supremely delightful to us to do our duty if\nwe had a similar love for our Father in Heaven.\n\nAs the little coral insect, obeying the blind instinct of its nature,\nadds particle to particle, and builds a house for itself at the same\ntime that it helps to construct a continent; so we, obeying the voice of\nGod, in every little duty, performed not grudgingly, but with the heart,\nare adding something to our eternal mansions, and helping to enlarge the\nbounds of heaven.\n\n\n\n\nLIFE\n\n\"Thou shalt not respect the person of the poor, nor honor the person\nof the mighty: but in righteousness shalt thou judge thy\nneighbor.\"--LEVITICUS xix. 15.\n\n\"There is but one thing of which I am afraid, and that is\n_fear_.\"--MONTAIGNE.\n\n  \"Work! and thou shalt bless the day,\n  Ere thy task be done;\n  They that work not, cannot pray,\n  Cannot feel the sun.\n\n  \"Worlds thou mayst possess with health\n  And unslumbering powers;\n  Industry alone is wealth--\n  What we do is ours.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThought, Imagination, and Affection, combined harmoniously, constitute\na symmetrical Character, and they should manifest themselves in an\nexternal Life of corresponding symmetry. The external Life will always\nfall short of the internal, because we can always imagine a degree of\nexcellence beyond that which we have reached, let our efforts be earnest\nand active as they may; and the more we advance in Christian progress,\nthe wider will the vista open before us of that which we may yet attain.\nAs we ascend the heights of worldly knowledge, in whatever department,\nthe horizon widens at every step; and we always know that the horizon,\ndistant as it may seem, is only an imaginary limit to that which may be\nknown. The shallow student, in the inflation of self-conceit, may fancy\nthat his own narrow valley is the limit of the universe; but the wise\nman knows that limitation belongs only to his own organization, and not\nto the universe of God. So in the training of Character, we may go on in\nour progress, not only through time, but through the measureless periods\nof eternity, and yet we know that we can never reach that perfection of\ndevelopment which belongs to the All-perfect.\n\nAmong the insane dreamers of the earth, those are found who deem\nthemselves enjoying light sufficient to live lives of perfection, even\nin this dim morning twilight that lies around us on earth; but it is\ntheir bat-like vision which takes for noonday that which, were their\neyes couched, would seem to them but darkness visible. He who fancies\nthat he leads a perfect life is but a dreamer concerning things of which\nhe has no true knowledge.\n\nPerfection is, nevertheless, the object at which we should patiently and\nsteadfastly aim, and the loftiness of the mark, unattainable though it\nbe, will shed an ennobling influence on those who strive. The mass of\nhuman beings aim at nothing higher than to be as virtuous as, or a very\nlittle more so than, their neighbors; and are often more than contented\nwhen they think they have reached the low mark at which they aim. To\ncompare ourselves with our fellow-beings is always dangerous, and leads\nto envyings, rivalries, pride, and vainglory. In all our aims, the\nabsolute should be our only mark. If in intellectual pursuits we strive\nonly to know as much as our neighbors for the sake of decency, or to\nknow more than they for the gratification of pride, or for the pursuit\nof wealth or honor, we shall never reach so high a point as if we\nstudied without ever stopping to compare ourselves with any one; but\nworked right on, incited simply by the desire of knowing all that our\ncapacities and opportunities would enable us to acquire. Working thus,\nwe should go on our way rejoicing, our hearts embittered by no envyings,\ninflated by no conceit. Comparing what we know with that which we do not\nknow, we could never become vain of our acquirements, for we must always\nfeel that what we know is but the beginning of that which remains to be\nlearned.\n\nSo in Life, if we compare our own lives with the lives of our neighbors,\nwe shall be envious and jealous, or else self-conceited and proud; and\nour efforts will probably soon slacken, and then cease; and then we\nshall begin to go down hill, at the very moment, perhaps, when we are\ntaking credit to ourselves for our rapid, or our finished, ascent. If,\non the other hand, we compare our lives with that absolute perfection\nwhich the Lord sets before us as our model, we shall incur the danger of\nnone of these vices; and though the greatness of our task may well cause\nus to \"work in fear and trembling,\" we shall ever be cheered by the\nconsciousness that \"the Lord worketh within us both to will and to do.\"\n\nWhen our characters take form in external Life, Thought must give us\ndiscrimination, Imagination must give us courage, and Affection must\ngive us earnestness; then our external nature will be the transparent\nmedium through which the internal nature will shine, with a lustre\nundiminished by the opacity which is sure to dim its radiance when\ndulness, fearfulness, or indolence inheres with the external nature;\nfor then it forms a husk to hide, instead of a medium to display, the\nworkings of the inner being.\n\nThe powers that have been treated of in the preceding essays are\nsometimes found to work well so long as they work upon abstractions; but\nso soon as they are required to work upon the daily Life, they fail of\nreaching so high a point of excellence as we think we had reason to\nanticipate. This results from the want of either discrimination,\ncourage, or earnestness; and the inner nature cannot be thoroughly\ntrained until these faculties are so developed by its life-giving power,\nthat their weakness ceases to interfere with its movements when it seeks\nto manifest itself in external Life.\n\nThought can discriminate abstractions long before it can discriminate\nfacts in their relations with Life. It can reason logically of the true\nand the false in the realms of the mind long before it can tell the\nright from the wrong with correctness and readiness in the daily\nongoings of events. To discriminate justly here, we must be able to\ndissipate the mists with which the love of self and the love of the\nworld obscure the way in which we tread; hiding that which we _ought_\nto love, and displaying in enlarged proportions the things that we _do_\nlove, until reason loses all just data, and accepts whatever passion\noffers as foundation for its judgments. Persons thus misled, often think\nthey really meant to walk steadfastly in the right path, and that they\nare not responsible for having wandered into the wrong. They call what\nthey have done an error of judgment, and rest content in the belief that\ntheir intentions were good, and therefore they are not to blame. This\nmay be true, for \"to err is human,\" and none but the All-wise can be\nsure of always judging rightly. Still, when we know that we have done\nwrong through an error of judgment, we should carefully examine and see\nif we might not have avoided this mistake had we been more careful\nin our investigation of facts,--more conscientious in our process of\nadopting our opinions. If we thus catechized our past errors, we should\nprobably find, that, in a large proportion of cases, our error sprang\nfrom some cause we might have prevented,--from carelessness, from\nblindness caused by the desire to gratify our own wishes, or from\nindolence; in fact, that what we fancied sprang from an error of\njudgment only, had a much deeper root, and drew its nourishment from\nundisciplined Affections.\n\nIn training the faculty of discrimination, the work we must set before\nourselves is to learn the relative value of principles, of persons, and\nof things; and in order to do this, we must look upon them in their\nrelations with time and with eternity. We must learn to value and to\njudge from laws of absolute right, and not from the expediencies of the\nhour.\n\nProtestants quote with horror the Romish maxim, that, \"for a just\ncause, it is lawful to confirm equivocation with an oath,\" yet the\nsame principle lurks within their own bosoms, inciting many a\nwell-intentioned soul to \"do evil that good may come of it.\" The two\nmaxims are twin sisters, and children of the father of lies. Persons who\nthink they have delicate consciences not unfrequently tell what they\ncall small lies, or lies of expediency, in order that some good may come\nof it, which they esteem so great that it overbalances the evil of the\nfalsehood. This class of persons is very numerous, and of all degrees,\nrunning from the mother who deludes her child into being a \"good boy\"\nby the promise of punishment or of favor that she has no intention of\nbestowing, to the juror who swears to speak the truth, and then affirms\nthat a guilty man is innocent, fancying that it is less a sin for him\nto commit perjury than for the powers that be to commit what he calls\noppression, injustice, or legal murder. This willingness to commit one\nsin, in order to prevent our neighbor from committing another, is a form\nof brotherly love we are nowhere enjoined to practise; it springs\nfrom an overweening self-love, that believes itself too pure to be\ncontaminated by a small sin, while it forgets that a wilful disobedience\nof one commandment is in its essence disobedience towards the whole law.\nAll who do evil that good may come of it, in any department of life,\nbelong to this same class of persons. They ever look upon the sins of\ntheir neighbors with a sharper eye than they turn upon their own;\nand ever hold themselves in readiness, by \"righteous indignation,\"\nintemperate zeal, and wisdom beyond, that which is written, to do battle\nfor the Lord with weapons he has forbidden us to use, and to set the\nworld in order by means and principles in direct opposition to his laws.\n\nNo one could be guilty of such sins who possessed a discriminating\nsense of right and wrong; such a sense as is derived from receiving the\nteachings of the Lord in simplicity of heart, and never presuming to set\naside his commandments in order to place our own in their stead. His\ncommands to refrain from doing evil are explicit, and without reserve,\nand he who ventures to call in question their universal application is\nsharpening a weapon for the destruction of his own soul.\n\nThe commands of the Lord are infinite principles, and in their natural\nand simple deductions cover all the acts of Life having any moral\nbearing, from the greatest to the least; and it is not the wisdom,\nbut, the foolishness, of man, not his depth, but his shallowness, that\nendeavors to limit their significance and their application. We shall\nfind that our vain attempts to do this occasion almost all our errors of\njudgment. \"The testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple,\"\nand he who is implicitly guided by it can alone walk surely; for he\nonly has an unfailing guide in his endeavors to distinguish accurately\nbetween right and wrong.\n\nIf we learn to discriminate principles wisely, our next step is to apply\na similar action of the thoughts to persons; and here again it is to the\nlaws of absolute good and evil we must look for light. We must learn to\nrespect persons for what they are, and not for their position, their\nreputation, or their worldly possessions. If we are really aiming to\ntrain our own characters in accordance with the laws of absolute right,\nwe shall be likely to respect in others the attributes we seek in our\nown persons. In all other efforts, there is too often envy and jealousy\namong those who strive; but with those who seek true excellence, whether\nintellectual or moral, _for its own sake_, and not from love of the\nworld, there is always pure brotherly love; and a perpetual delight is\nexperienced in the contemplation of excellence wherever it is found.\n\nIn our estimate of the relative value of things, the same laws are\ncalled into action. If we would value them aright, we shall seek first\nthose which aid us in improving and educating our characters, or which\nenlarge our powers of usefulness, and be comparatively indifferent to\nthings which are external, and contribute only to the pleasure of the\nhour.\n\nTrue discrimination may be defined as the faculty by which we justly\nestimate the value and the relations of principles, of persons, and of\nthings; and so far as we attain to it, the power of wise Thought is\nultimated in Life.\n\nCourage, the buoyant child of Imagination, is the next faculty which we\nmust duly cultivate, if we would use the talents God has bestowed upon\nus to the best advantage. It is common to look upon courage as a natural\nendowment, and few persons seem to be aware that it is a moral trait we\nare bound to cultivate. Yet when we consider how the want of courage\ninterferes with our powers of usefulness, we cannot doubt that\nconscience should have force to make brave men and women of us all. In\nthe various relations of life there is nothing that so paralyzes the\npowers as fear. They who are the subjects of fear are slaves, let their\nposition or their endowments be what they may. The want of courage in\npractical life brings failure, casualty, and even death, in its train:\nintellectually, it robs us of half our power; morally, it puts us in\nbondage to our fellow-beings; and religiously, it leaves us without\nhope.\n\nHope and fear are alike children of the Imagination; but how different\nis their aspect! Fear walks through the world with abject gait,\nsearching constantly after something of which it may be afraid; for,\nlike all the other faculties, it perpetually demands food, and if it\nfinds it not in the world around, imagines it in the world within. Few\npersons, perhaps none, are fearful in every department of life; but\nalmost every one is so in some particular relations. Just so far as we\nsuccumb to fear, we lose the control of our powers, and lie at the feet\nof circumstance instead of cooperating with it, and making it subserve\nour benefit. Hope, on the contrary, finds cause for joy everywhere, and\nwhen surrounded by gloom sees, in imagination, the dawn that must come\neven after the blackest night, and is buoyed up by the remembrance,\nthat, though \"sorrow may endure for a night, joy cometh in the morning.\"\nWhere fear sees nothing but the black clouds that threaten coming\nstorms, hope looks through them to the bow of promise. Hope is the\ninternal principle of true courage. St. Paul, in his beautiful\ndescription of charity, tells us that it \"hopeth all things\"; and we may\neasily perceive how it must be so, for the external form of charity\nis love to the neighbor, which leads us to hope all things for our\nfellow-beings; while its internal form, which is love to God, must lead\nus to hope all things for ourselves. The devils believe and tremble\nbecause they hate God; the devout believe and hope because they love\nhim.\n\nLet us consider courage specially in its four principal\nrelations,--physical, intellectual, moral, and religious.\n\nPhysical courage,--the courage of practical life,--though it seems the\nlowest form of this virtue, is perhaps quite as rare as either of the\nothers. There is abundance of fool-hardiness, of brutal rashness,\nindifferent to all consequences, in the World; but very little of that\ncalm, self-possessed courage that leaves to one the full use of his\nfaculties in the midst of danger, and allows him to act wisely, even\nwhen meeting death face to face. The only sure foundation for this form\nof courage is unshrinking trust in the overruling power of God,--a trust\nthat shall make us feel his providence ever clasping its arms about us\nin all the circumstances of life, causing us ever to bear in mind, that\nhe who watches the fall of the sparrow cannot permit us to perish or to\nsuffer by chance. This trust will give us power to meet the prospect of\ndeath with calmness, let it threaten in what form it may, whether the\nsummons come in the crash of the shattered car, the bowlings of the\nocean-storm, the flash of the lightning, or the quiet of our own\nchamber. We shall feel that the hand of God is in, or over, them all;\nand when danger threatens, our faculties will rather be quickened than\ndiminished by the consciousness, that, in times of emergency, if we look\nto him, he will be the more abounding in pouring his grace upon us to\nsupply our need. Calm, self-possessed courage comes to us the moment we\nlean upon God for strength; while we are rendered helpless by fear, or\nrash by arrogance, if we look only to ourselves.\n\nThere are those who would feel that they were passing away by the will\nof God, if disease came to them with slowly wasting hand, and would meet\nhis will, coming in that form, with meekness and patience; perhaps, with\nwillingness: and yet were they called to die by sudden casualty, would\npass into eternity, shrieking with terror. Much of this fear of sudden\ndeath is a mere physical passion, arising from a mistaken idea that\nthere must be great pain in a death by violence; and some even, in spite\nof the direct teaching of the Lord to the contrary, look upon such a\ndeath as a manifestation of the wrath of God against the individual. Yet\nthere is, in fact, much less suffering in most deaths by casualty than\nby prolonged disease; while in many such there is probably entire\nfreedom from suffering. The mercy of God, no less than his power, is\neverywhere, and in all forms of death, no less than in life; and were\nour love for him as universal as his for us, we could no more fear\nwhile remembering that we are in his hands, than the infant fears while\nclasped to its mother's breast.\n\nThe possession of this trust in God, because it makes one calm in all\npositions and under all emergencies, is the surest of all safeguards\nagainst danger. How often, in the shocking records of disaster by land\nand water, is the loss of life directly traceable to the want of that\ntrue courage that retains self-possession everywhere, and under all\ncircumstances, giving the power to ward off threatening danger, even\nwhen it seems most imminent and irresistible. In pestilence, the\nterrified are the first to fall victims to the scourge, while none walk\nso securely as those who possess their souls in quietness.\n\nIntellectual courage,--the courage of thought--comes second in the\nascending scale. As physical courage gives us the ability to use our\nfaculties with the same freedom in the most imminent danger as we should\nwith no alarming circumstance to excite us, making us as it were to rise\nabove circumstance, so intellectual courage gives us the power to think\nwith independence, just as we should if we did not know the opinion of\nanother human being upon the subject which engages our thoughts.\n\nPersons having an humble estimate of their own abilities are apt to take\ntheir opinions, without reserve, from those whom they most respect,\nwithout making any effort on their own part to judge for themselves\nbetween truth and falsehood. If this were right, it would take all\nresponsibility in relation to matters of thought from this class of\npersons; yet every human being must be responsible for the opinions he\nholds. We cannot excuse ourselves by saying we took our opinion from\nanother, and it is his fault if it be false. Each one must be prepared\nto answer for his own opinions, just as he must be responsible for his\nown actions.\n\nPersons of a combative disposition take just the opposite course from\nthis, and adopt opinions merely because they are opposed to some\nparticular person or to some class of persons. Such persons fancy\nthemselves very independent, and announce their opinions with a movement\nof the head, that seems to say, \"You see I am afraid of nobody, and dare\nto think for myself.\" There is, however, quite as little independence\nin adopting an opinion because somebody else does not think so, as\nin accepting it because he does. Independence of thought is thinking\nwithout any undue regard to the opinion of any one else, one way or the\nother.\n\nA third class of persons, having large love of approbation, is very\nnumerous. These are unwilling to express any opinion in conversation\nuntil they have ascertained the views of the person they address; cannot\ntell what they think of a book until they know what the critics say;\nand seem to have no idea of truth in itself, but look merely to please\nothers by changing their opinions as often as they change their\ncompanions. There are many authors of this class who, in writing,\nstrive only to please the vanity of the reader by presenting him with a\nreflection of his own ideas; and whose constant aim is to follow public\nopinion, instead of leading it. They do not care whether the ideas they\npromulgate are true or false, if they are but popular; and if they fail\nto please, are filled with chagrin, and sometimes have even died of\ndespair.\n\nA fourth class of persons, possessed of strong self-esteem, arrive at\nindependence of thought through pride of intellect, and this is even\nmore dangerous than to depend upon others for our opinions; for of all\nidolatry, there is none so interior and hard to overcome as the worship\nof self. If we would arrive at truth of opinion, we must be independent\nof our own passions and prejudices no less than of our neighbor's.\nThere is but one source of truth, and whoever believes that he finds it\nelsewhere is an idolater. The Lord has declared, \"I am the way and the\ntruth and the life\"; and it is only through him as the way that we can\nfind the truth, and we seek it through him when we love it because he is\nthe truth, and so seek it for its own absolute beauty and excellence,\ndesiring to bring it out into life.\n\nLook where we may along the pages of history and the records of science,\nit is the devout men who have been the successful promulgaters of new\nideas and searchers after truth. The scoffer and the infidel make great\nboasts of their progress through their independence of Scripture; but in\na little while a devout man follows in their footsteps and proves that\ntheir deductions are false, and that even their observations of facts\nwere not to be trusted. Scoffers and infidels come, promising to set the\nworld in order by subverting governments; but though they are quick\nto pull down, they have no power to build up; and it is only when the\ndevout man comes, that the reign of anarchy and misrule ceases.\n\nCommon, daily life is the epitome of history. The devout man is the only\none whose opinions are trustworthy; and just so far as we become truly\ndevout will the scales that hinder us from seeing the truth fall from\nour eyes. \"If the eye be single,\" looking to the Lord alone, unbiassed\nin its gaze by the thousand-fold passions of earth, \"the whole body\nshall be full of light.\"\n\nMoral courage, the third phase of this virtue, is that faculty of the\nsoul by which we are enabled to act, in all the social relations of\nlife, with perfect independence of the opinions of the world, and\ngoverned only by the laws of abstract propriety, uprightness, and\ncharity. It gives us power to say and to do whatever we conscienciously\nbelieve to be right and true, without being influenced by the fear of\nman's frown or the hope of his favor. This is very difficult, because\nthe customs and conventionalisms of society hedge us about so closely\nfrom our very infancy, that they constrain us when we are unconscious of\nit, and lead us to act and to refrain in a way which our better judgment\nwould forbid, did we consult its indications without being influenced by\nthe world.\n\nIt was a saying of a wise man, that \"he who fears God can fear nothing\nelse\"; and there is certainly no healthy way in which we can be\ndelivered from that fear of the world which destroys moral courage,\nbut the learning to fear, above all things, failing to fulfil our duty\nbefore God. If we would have moral courage, we must accustom ourselves\nto feel that we are accountable to God, and to him only, for what we do.\nThere is a spurious moral as well as intellectual courage, the offspring\nof pride and arrogance, that pretends to independence in a spirit of\ndefiance of the opinion of the world; but this will never give us the\npower to act wisely, for wisdom is ever the twin sister of charity\nthat loves the neighbor even while differing from him in opinion. True\ncourage of every kind is perfectly self-possessed, but never defiant. A\nspirit of defiance springs from envy or hate if it be honest, and from\na consciousness of inferiority if assumed; and is sometimes only a\ndisguise self-assumed by fear, when it seeks to be unconscious of\nitself. True moral courage results from the hope that we are acting\nin harmony with the laws of eternal wisdom. Fear of every kind is\nannihilated by a living hope that the Lord is on our side.\n\nIf we would test the quality of our moral courage, we must ask\nourselves, is it defiant? is it disdainful? is it envious? does it hate\nits neighbor? or are its emotions affected in any way by the opinion of\nthe world? If we can answer all these questions in the negative, we must\ngo a step farther, and ask if we have gained a state of independence of\nour own selfish passions, as well as of the world; for our most\ninveterate foes, and those before whom we cower most abjectly, are often\nthose that dwell within the household of our own hearts. If the love of\nease or of sensual indulgence rules there, we need to summon our moral\ncourage to a stern strife, for there is no conquest more difficult than\nover the evil affections that are rooted in our sensual nature. Wise\nand good men have gone so far as to believe that this conquest is never\nentire in this world; that the allurements of indolence and the gnawing\nof sensual cravings are never quieted save when the body perishes. It\nis, however, difficult to believe that passions exist in the body apart\nfrom the soul, and if not, there can be no absolute impossibility of\nconquest, even in this world. If this may be attained, it must be\nthrough the building up of a true moral courage, that shall fight\nbelieving that the sword of the Lord is in the hand of him who strives,\ntrusting in that eternal strength which is mighty even as we are weak.\n\nReligious courage develops naturally in proportion as the growth of\nmoral courage becomes complete. Fear is nowhere so distressing as in our\nrelations with our Creator. That which is by nature best becomes worst\nwhen it is perverted; and as the blessed hope to which, as children of\nGod, we are all born heirs, is in its fulness an infinite source of joy\nand blessing to the soul, so when it is reversed and perverted into\nfear, it becomes the source of unspeakable misery, sometimes resulting\nin one of the most wretched forms of insanity.\n\nThe morbid state of the mind which induces this distressing passion is\nthe result of a peculiar form of egotism, which leads the thoughts\nto fasten upon one's own evils so entirely that the mind ceases to\nrecognize, or even to remember, the long-suffering patience and mercy of\nthe Heavenly Father. A more common, but less painful form of this fear\nis the result of vagueness in one's ideas of the Divine character and\nattributes. The clear and rational views which Swedenborg has given of\nthe Divine Providence is undoubtedly the reason why religious melancholy\nis almost never found among the members of the New Church. The peace in\nbelieving, which is almost universal among this class of Christians,\nis a subject of remark among those who observe them, wherever they are\nfound; and this arises, not merely from their not looking upon God as an\nenemy and avenger who demands a perfect fulfilment of the letter of the\nlaw, or infinite punishment for sin, either personally or by an atoning\nSaviour; but from the possession of a distinct idea, imaged in their\nminds, of the nature and the quality of the Divine Providence. Where\nthere is a tendency to any kind of fear, nothing increases it more than\nthe want of a distinct idea of the thing or person feared; because the\nImagination, which is always quick with the timid, is almost sure to\ncreate something within the mind far more fearful than anything that\nreally exists. The greatest boon mankind ever received through a brother\nman was the doctrine first promulgated by Swedenborg, that God has\nrespect even to our good intentions; and that he casts out none who\nsincerely desire to be of his kingdom. If one distinctly believes this\ndoctrine, there is no rational ground in the mind for fear; because the\nvery fact of our desire for salvation--provided we understand salvation\nto be a state of the mind, and not a mere position in a certain\nplace,--or something pertaining to our internal, and not to our\nexternal, nature--makes it impossible that we should fail of attaining\nit.\n\nIf one is oppressed with religious fear, the way to escape from it is\nto use every endeavor to attain a clear and distinct idea of the Divine\ncharacter, and to strive to bring one's self into harmony with it;--to\nthink as little as possible about one's own sins, and to train the\nthoughts to dwell upon the Divine perfections, and cultivate an ardent\ndesire to imitate them. It is necessary to think of one's self enough\nto refrain from the commission of external sins, and just so far and so\nfast as we put away sin, the Lord will implant the opposite virtue in\nits place, provided we put the sin away from love to him, and not from\nany selfish or worldly motive. This state of active cooperation with the\nLord is something very different from that into which one falls who is\nthe subject of religious fear, and cannot exist in company with it. The\nreligious coward can only overcome his fear by remembering that God is\nnot a tyrant who demands impossibilities of his slaves, but a Father of\ninfinite love, who would make his children eternally happy; and who, in\norder that they may become so, gives them every means and every aid that\nthey will receive. He must not suffer his heart to sink within him by\nthinking of his own weakness, but must elevate it by thinking of the\ninfinite power of him who has called us to salvation. Above all things,\nhe must not fall into reveries about himself, but seek to forget self in\nthe active performance of duty.\n\nThe performance of duty, the fulfiling of use, which, rightly\nunderstood, is the universal panacea against all the troubles and\nsorrows of this life, is too often a fearful bugbear in the eyes of\nthose who understand it not. This subject, however, brings us to the\nthird and last topic to be discussed under the head of Life. The love of\nduty, to be effectual or real, must be earnest; for earnestness is the\ncertain result of living Affection. Through this, all our other powers\nand faculties ultimate themselves in external Life. Earnestness is the\nexact opposite of indolence. It is the external motive power, just as\nAffection is the internal motive power,--the body, of which Affection is\nthe soul. Without earnestness, all our other powers come to naught, and\nwe live in vain; with it, our other endowments become alive, and ready\nto impress themselves upon the external world. Indolence is a rust,\ncorroding and dulling all our faculties; earnestness, a vitalizing\nforce, quickening and brightening them. By earnestness, alone, can we\nclimb upward in that progress which, begun in time, pauses not at the\ngrave, but passing through the portal of death, goes eternally on in the\nsame direction which we chose for ourselves here, ever approaching more\nnearly to the Divine perfection, whose life is the unresting activity of\ninfinite love. By indolence, we sink ever lower and lower, and through\na continuous process of deterioration, grow each day more unfit for the\nheavenly life, which all but the abandoned, and perhaps even they, fancy\nthey desire, even when refusing to use any of the means whereby it may\nbe gained.\n\nIn the circle of man's evil propensities, no one, perhaps, is a more\nfruitful mother of wretchedness and crime than the propensity to\nindolence. It is a common saying, that the love of money is the root\nof all evil; but that root often runs deeper, and finds its life in\nindolence, which incites those under its dominion to seek money through\nunlawful means. The desire for money impels most men to constant effort,\nand there is no reason for attributing a stronger desire to him who\nsteals or defrauds than to him who labors steadfastly, every day of his\nlife, from early dawn to eve; yet we praise the latter, and condemn the\nformer. It is not, then, the love of money that we condemn, but the\ndesire to attain it by vicious means; and such desire results from a\nhatred for labor, which is the only legitimate means by which it may be\ngained. Money in itself is but dead matter, serving only as a minister\nto some end beyond; and the simple desire for it is neither good nor\nbad: the end for which it is desired elevates the desire itself to a\nvirtue, or degrades it to a vice; and the means which we adopt for\nobtaining it, and the purposes to which we apply it, make it either a\nblessing or a curse.\n\nEvery possession, whether moral, intellectual, or physical, is the\nlegitimate reward of labor wisely and earnestly applied; and for these\nrewards the virtuous are content to labor without repining, and to them,\nnot only the rewards, but the labor itself, is blessed. The vicious,\non the contrary, desire the rewards, but hate the labor by which they\nshould be gained. They, therefore, accordingly as they belong to\ndifferent classes of society, simulate virtues which they do not\npossess, pretend to acquirements they have been too idle to gain, or\nstrive after wealth by any means, rather than patient industry and\nhonest effort.\n\nIt is not the vicious alone who fail to perceive that labor is a\nblessing from which a wise man can never fly. The curse applied to Adam,\n\"In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread,\" has led many to suppose\nthat originally the wants of the human race were supplied without any\nexertion of its own,--that in the garden of Eden there was enjoyment\nwithout effort, possession without labor. Even in the pulpit, labor is\nsometimes spoken of as a curse pertaining only to life in this world,\nfrom which we shall be delivered in the life to come. Nothing can be\nfarther from the truth. Employment is the life of every soul, from\nthe Most High down to the least of his children. They only who are\nspiritually dead, or sleeping, ask for idleness. It is man fallen who\nlooks on labor as a curse, not man walking with God in the garden of\nEden; and to man, when he has fallen, labor is indeed a curse, for his\nsoul is so perverted that he knows not the true nature and qualities of\na blessing.\n\nMan, resting in thought or feeling, is at best a useless abstraction; he\nbecomes truly a man only when his thoughts and feelings come forth into\nlife, and impress themselves on outward things. If he fail to do this,\nthe rust of idleness eats into all his powers, till he becomes a useless\ncumberer of the ground; the world loses, and heaven gains nothing when\nthis mortal puts on immortality. Such a being is dead while he lives--a\nmoral paralytic. His capacities are as seed cast upon a rock where there\nis no earth.\n\nGod works incessantly. His eye knows no closing, his hand no weariness.\nThe universe was not only built by his power, but is sustained every\nmoment by his inflowing life. If he were to turn from it for a single\ninstant, all things would return to chaos. Man, created in the image and\nlikeness of God, resembles him most nearly when the life influent from\nGod which fills his soul, flows forth freely as it is given, quickening\nwith its powers all that comes within the influence of his sphere.\n\nThere is an old proverb that tells us, \"Idleness is the devil's pillow\";\nand well may it be so esteemed, for no head ever rested long upon it,\nbut the lips of the evil spirit were at its ear, breathing falsehood and\ntemptation. The industrious man is seldom found guilty of a crime; for\nhe has no time to listen to the enticings of the wicked one, and he is\ncontent with the enjoyments honest effort affords. It is the vicious\nidler, vexed to see the fortunes of his industrious neighbor growing\nwhile he is lounging and murmuring, who robs and murders that he may get\nunlawful gain. It is the merry, thoughtless idler who, to relieve the\nnothingness of his days, seeks the excitement of the wine-cup and the\ngaming-table. It is the sensual idler, whose licentious ear is open to\nthe voice of the tempter as often as his track crosses the pathway of\nyouth and innocence.\n\nNot only by reason of the external, palpable rewards which labor brings\nis it to be considered a blessing; but every hour of patient labor,\nwhether with the hands, or in study, or thought, brings with it its own\npriceless reward, in its direct effects upon the Character. By it the\nfaculties are developed, the powers strengthened, and the whole being\nbrought into a state of order; provided we do all things for the glory\nof God. \"But,\" exclaims the impatient heart, wearied with the cares of\ndaily life, \"how can all this labor for the preservation and comfort of\nthe merely mortal body, this study of things which belong merely to the\nmaterial world, subserve in any way the glory of God?\" It is by these\nvery toils, worthless and transitory as they may seem, that the\nCharacter is built up for eternity; and so to build up Character is the\nwhole end for which the things of time were created. No matter how small\nthe duty intrusted to our performance, by performing it to the best\nof our abilities we are fitting ourselves to be rulers over many\nthings,--to hear the blessed proclamation, \"Well done, good and faithful\nservant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.\"\n\nWe are prone, at times, to feel as though we were not placed in the\nright niche; and that, if we were differently situated, and occupied\nwith employments more worthy our capacities, we should work with\npleasure and assiduity; but our present duties are so much beneath us,\nit seems degrading to spend our time and thoughts upon them. Here is\na radical error of judgment, for it is not a high or low duty that\ndegrades or elevates man, but the performing any duty well or ill. It\nis as true as it is trite, that the honor or shame lies in the mode of\nperformance, not in the quality of the duty. We all, perhaps, know and\nsay, and yet need to be reminded, that a bad president stands lower in\nthe scale of being than a good town officer; a wicked statesman, let\nhim occupy what social position he may, fills a lower place than a\nconscientious slave who faithfully fulfils the duties of his station.\n\nThe first Church, represented by Adam, fell because it ceased to look to\nthe Lord as the source of all life and light, and looked only to itself\nfor all things. It thus lost all conception of the legitimate aim of\nlife. Seeking only the enjoyment of the present moment, labor seemed a\ndire calamity; for the eternal end of labor, that is, the development\nof the powers of the soul, so as best to fit it for the performance of\nheavenly uses, passed out of the knowledge of man, and he learned to\nlook forward to heaven as a place of idle enjoyment; toiling sorrowfully\nthrough this world, in the sweat of his face, for bread that, when\nattained, gave him no true life. To eat bread in the sweat of the face\nsignifies by correspondences, to receive and appropriate as good only\nthat which self may call self-produced and self-owned; and to turn away\nwith aversion from that which is heavenly. This is precisely what we all\ndo when we shrink from, or despise, any labor which duty demands at our\nhands. The Lord places us in that position in life which is best adapted\nto overcome the evil dispositions of our nature, and to cultivate our\nsouls for heaven. Perhaps we have capacities that would enable us\nto perform duties that would be considered by the world of a higher\ncharacter; but perhaps, on the other hand, we have vices that the Lord\nis striving to overcome by placing us in this very position which so\nfrets and disgusts us. If we will but remember that the mercy and love\nof the Lord strive to bless us by fitting us for heaven, and not by\nmaking us eminent in the eyes of men, we shall probably find it much\neasier to comprehend why we are placed as we are in this world. When we\ntorment ourselves by thinking of the inappropriateness of our position\nin this world, we are always viewing our position with regard to this\nworld only, and therefore all things are dark to us. When we look humbly\nto the Lord, and seek to find out the eternal ends of his providence in\nthe circumstances of our lives, gradually the scales pass from our\neyes, and at last we go in peace, seeing.\n\nBeside the education of our powers and faculties, employment is a\nblessing in helping us to bear the severest trials of this life. When\nbereavement or disappointment overwhelms the soul with anguish, so that\nthis world seems only the dark habitation of despair; when we cannot see\nthe bow of promise in the black cloud that darkens our horizon; when we\nfeel that we are without God in the world,--and there are few if any\nhuman beings who have not found themselves at some time in such a\nstate,--then, as we hope by the grace of God ever to escape from this\ndespair, we should fly idleness as we would fly the dagger or the\npoisoned cup; and though grief be tugging at the heart-strings, though\nour eyes are blinded with tears, we should set ourselves diligently\nabout doing something that may help to make others happy, and let no\nduty go unperformed; and it will not be long ere the dimmed eyes shall\nbegin to see the glow of the sunshine above, and the earth radiant with\nbeauty below; while, so far from being deserted of God, we shall feel\nthat sorrow has brought us more distinctly than ever before into his\npresence.\n\n  \"The path of sorrow, and that path alone,\n  Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown.\"\n\nWhat are the employments of heaven we cannot know with any\nparticularity. Swedenborg tells us that the angels are constantly\nperforming uses; but what these uses are we are not distinctly told. We\nknow that they correspond in some way to the employments of earth; but\nreally to understand them probably transcends our capacities while we\nremain in the flesh. The conscientious performance of the material and\nfinite uses of this life is the only means by which we can prepare\nourselves for the spiritual and eternal uses pertaining to the heavenly\nkingdom; uses which probably serve to comfort, nourish, and strengthen\nthe soul in eternity, as on earth the corresponding uses serve the wants\nof the body.\n\nIn the spiritual world the spiritual body is fed, clothed, and sheltered\nin much the same way, to appearance, as is the material body in the\nnatural world; but all the surroundings of the spirit correspond to the\nstate of each individual being, and are the direct gift of the Lord. All\nthe arts and trades of this life do not exist in the other, but as these\narts and trades, as well as everything else in this world, exist only\nthrough their correspondence with something in the other world, it\nfollows that all the occupations of this life have not similar, but\ncorresponding, occupations in the other. The end of life in this world\nis to fit the soul for entering upon the heavenly life, and the end\nof life in heaven is perpetual advancement in spiritual graces and\nperfections; for no angel, even in the highest heavens, has reached\na degree of perfection so high that he can go no further. The end of\nheavenly life thus being infinite, the effort and employment of that\nlife must be ceaseless. In speaking of ceaseless effort, it must not be\nunderstood that this resembles at all the wearying labor of a slave, or\nthat there is anything oppressive or forced about its performance; for\nthis could only be anticipated with dread. Heavenly employment must be\nfull of life and joy, bearing us upward like the wings of a skylark, as\nhe bathes in the sunlight of the upper ether, and carols forth his\njoy. There will undoubtedly be a variety, too, in heavenly employment,\ncorresponding with our varying states, and making tedium impossible.\nThis may be illustrated by imagining what would be a perfect mode of\nspending a day in this world. We wake in the morning refreshed by\nrepose, and as we look forth at the sun our spirits rejoice in the\nbeauty of the wakening day, and rise toward the heavenly throne in\nprayer and praise. We set about the performance of our daily duties, and\nChristian charity toward those for whose happiness or benefit, whether\nphysical or intellectual, we exert our powers, makes us faithful in\nwhatever we do, that it may be done to the best of our ability; and our\neffort is lightened by the consciousness of duty done from pure and\nupright motives. If we go forth for refreshment, communion with nature\nand the God of nature fills our souls with peace, while the fresh air\ngives new life to the frame. When the duties of the day are over, and\nthe family circle collects around the evening lamp, reading or\nconversation awakes the powers of the heart and the intellect, and draws\nmore closely the bonds of the domestic affections. We retire for the\nnight, and ere composing ourselves to sleep, we collect our thoughts,\nreflect upon the events of the day, examining what we have done well or\nill, and prepare by wise resolutions for future effort. We slumber, and\nthe repose of all our powers renews our strength for the coming morrow.\nThrough the whole of this twenty-four hours, employment has been\nconstant. There has been labor of the hands, labor of the head,\nconversation, thought, prayer, sleep. Every part of the being has been\ncalled into exercise; there has been no weariness from labor, and no\nidleness; but every moment of this whole day has added its quota towards\npromoting the growth of the whole being; and this is a heavenly day. The\nmore perfectly we can make the occupations of our days thus combine for\nthe growth of our being, the better we are preparing ourselves for the\ndays of heaven.\n\nAs the progress of the heavenly life will be infinite, the wants of our\nspiritual natures must likewise be infinite. The heavenly life must be\na life of charity,--a life in which every soul will strive to aid every\nother to the utmost; and the charities of heaven must strengthen and\ncomfort the soul in a manner corresponding to the aid material charities\neffect in this world. Let it constantly be borne in mind, that charities\nare duties well performed, of whatever kind they may be,--as well\nthe faithful fulfilment of an avocation as the aiding of a suffering\nfellow-being. Charity is but another name for duty; or rather duty\nbecomes charity when we perform it from genuine love to the Lord and\nto the neighbor; and whoever leads a life of charity in this world is\nfitting himself to perform the higher charities that will be required of\nhim in heaven.\n\nThe true end and highest reward of labor is spiritual growth; and such\ngrowth brings with it the most exalted happiness we are capable of\nattaining. This happiness is the kingdom of heaven within us; and it is\nthe certain and unfailing reward, or rather consequence, of a life of\ntrue charity. It is not difficult, by intellectual thought, to perceive\nthe truth of this doctrine; but this is not enough. We must elevate our\nhearts into a wisdom that shall make us not only perceive, but feel and\nlove this truth. Until we can do this, we do not truly believe, though\nwe may think we do. If we fret and murmur; if we are impatient and\nunfaithful; if, when we plainly see that our duty lies in one path, we\nyet long to follow another; if we know that we cannot leave our present\nposition without dereliction from right, and yet hate or despise the\nplace in which we are; if we repine because God does not give us the\nearthly rewards we fancy we deserve, though we well know he promises\nonly heavenly ones; if we do habitually any or all of these things, we\nmay know that our faith is of the lip, and not of the heart,--that\nthe life of charity is not yet begun within us. Such repinings, such\ncravings as these do not belong nor lead to the heavenly kingdom.\n\nHe who thinks wisely can never live a life of idleness, and where there\nis excessive indolence of the body there is never healthy action of the\nmind. A life of use is a life of holiness; and a life of idleness is a\nlife of sin. He who performs no social use, who makes no human being\nhappier or better, is leading a life of utter selfishness; is walking in\na way that ends in spiritual death. In the parable of the sheep and the\ngoats, the King condemns those on the left hand, not because they have\ndone that which was wrong, but because they have omitted doing that\nwhich was right.\n\nNo human being in possession of his mental faculties is so incompetent\nthat he can do nothing for the benefit of those around him. One\nprostrate on a bed of sickness might seem, at first glance, incapable\nof performing any use; and yet, not unfrequently, what high and holy\nlessons of patient faith, of unwavering piety, are taught by such a\nbeing,--lessons that can never die out from the memory of those who\nminister at the couch of suffering. When the body lies powerless, and\nthe hand has lost its cunning, when even the tongue is palsied in death,\nhow often has the eye, still faithful to the heavenly Master, by a\nglance of holy peace performed the last act of charity to the bereaved\nones whom it looks upon with the eye of flesh for the last time. So long\nas life remains to us our duties are unfinished: God yet desires our\nservice on earth, and while he desires let us not doubt our capacity\nto serve. Even for one in the solitude of a prison-cell, when acts of\ncharity become impossible, the duty of labor is not taken away. One may\nstill work for the Father in Heaven, though sitting in darkness, and\nwith manacled limbs. To possess the soul in patience, to be meek,\nforgiving, and pious, are duties amply sufficient to tax the powers of\nthe strongest. There is no room for idleness even here.\n\nTo work is not only a duty, but a necessity of our nature, and when we\nfancy ourselves idle, we are in fact working for one whose wages is\ndeath. The question is never, Shall we work? but, For whom shall we\nwork? Whom shall we choose for our master? and our happiness here and\nhereafter must depend on the answer we give to this question. We may\nnot deliberately put and deliberately reply to this question in stated\nwords; but our whole lives answer it in one long-continued period.\nThose who labor steadfastly, with no end in view but the acquisition of\nworldly, perishable advantages, answer it fearfully; but theirs is not\na more desperate reply than comes from the idler and the slothful.\nWherever there is activity and force there is hope; for though now\nflowing in a wrong direction, the stream may yet be diverted into\nchannels that shall lead to eternal life. Where there is no activity,\nwhere all the faculties of the soul are sunk in the lethargy of\nindifference, as well may one hope to find living fountains gushing\nforth into fertilizing streams amid the sands of the African desert. The\nman of science tells us that living springs exist beneath these sands,\nand that artesian wells might bring them to the surface; and so in the\ninmost nature of man, however degraded he may be, Swedenborg tells\nus there is a shrine that cannot be defiled, through which heavenly\ninfluences may come down into his life, and yet save him, if he will\nreceive them ere he passes from this world; but when sloth has become\nhabitual and confirmed, there is almost as little room for hope that\nthis will ever take place as that artesian tubes will ever make the\nSaharan desert a region of fertility.\n\nThe kingdom of evil is readily attained. We have but to follow the\nallurements of the passions, and we shall surely find it; we have but to\nfold our hands, and it will come to us. With the kingdom of eternal life\nit is not so. That is a prize not easily won. Faithful, untiring effort,\nlooking ever toward eternal ends; a constant scrutiny of motives, that\nthey may be pure and true; an earnest, heartfelt, determined devotion\nto the heavenly Master, to whose service we have bound ourselves by\ndeliberate choice, can alone make sure for us what we seek. For a long\ntime this may require labor almost painful, but if we persevere, our\naffections will gradually become at one with our faith, the heavenly\nlife will become habitual, so as to be almost instinctive; and when the\ncelestial kingdom is thus established within us, no place will be left\nfor weariness, or doubt, or pain, or fear. CONVERSATION.\n\n\"He who sedulously attends, pointedly asks, calmly speaks, coolly\nanswers, and ceases when he has no more to say, is in possession of some\nof the best requisites of man.\"--LAVATER.\n\n\"The common fluency of speech, in many men, and most women, is owing to\na scarcity of matter and a scarcity of words; for whoever is master of\na language, and has a mind full of ideas, will be apt, in speaking, to\nhesitate upon the choice of both; whereas, common speakers have only\none set of ideas, and one set of words to clothe them in; and these are\nalways ready at the mouth; so people can come faster out of a church\nwhen it is almost empty, than when a crowd is at the door.\"--SWIFT.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOf all the physical powers possessed by man, there is none so noble as\nthat of speech; none that distinguishes him so entirely from the brute;\nyet how few there are who seem in any adequate degree to comprehend its\npower and value, or who ever pause to reflect upon the sacrilegious\nabuse to which it is often degraded.\n\nLanguage is Thought and Affection in form, as works are Thought and\nAffection in life. By language we receive the word of Divine Revelation,\nand by language we approach the Divine Author of all things in prayer.\nBy language we are made happy in social life, through interchange of\nthought and feeling with our fellow-beings. By language, man is made\nlord of the terrestrial world. By language, the wisdom of past ages\nbecomes an inheritance for the whole earth, instead of perishing with\neach possessor; and thus man advances from age to age, through the\nexperience of the past, instead of being obliged to work out all the\nwisdom he gains by his own individual effort.\n\nThis is the bright and beautiful side of language; but on the other hand\nis a dark and hideous side, when language becomes the foul and poisonous\nmedium through which the folly, the vice, and all the moral deformities\nof humanity, are spread abroad through the world, and handed down\nthrough the ages. The same medium that serves as a vehicle for heavenly\ntruth is the tool of the scoffing infidel; it is formed into prayer by\nthe saint, and into blasphemy by the sinner. Alternately, it serves the\npurest and holiest uses, or the vilest and most atrocious abuses; now\nformed to the sweet breathings of heavenly charity, and anon to the\nharsh utterances of malignant hate.\n\nThese distinctions are wide and clear, and easily perceived by the most\nobtuse or indifferent observer; but these distinctly marked varieties\npass into milder shades as they are exhibited in common Conversation,\nand then a nicer observation is needful to detect the varieties of\nhue that color language when used in the every-day forms of society.\n\nThe habitual use we make of language is the result of our own\ncharacters, and it reacts upon them. It likewise acts upon those who are\nabout us with an unceasing power, repelling or attracting all whom we\napproach. Every human being exerts a perpetual influence on every other\nhuman being, with an activity as universal as that of gravity in the\nmaterial world; and language is one of the most efficient means of this\ninfluence. Viewed in the light of these truths, common Conversation\nbecomes an object of serious consideration; and the mode of sustaining\nit worthy of the deepest thought and of the most careful watchfulness.\n\nBetween the malignity of a fiend and the charity of an angel there is\na long interval of inclined plane, and those who walk there may seem a\ncompany so mixed that they cannot be separated into two distinct bands;\nbut every individual of the throng is looking toward one or the\nother extremity, and either ascending or descending in his course.\nConversation is the outbirth of our thoughts and affections, and it\nshows their quality in the most direct manner possible. Actions are said\nto speak louder than words, and to the appreciation of our fellow-beings\nour lives are much truer and fuller expositions of our internal\nnatures than our Conversation; but before God, always, and before our\nown consciences if we really look at ourselves, the insincere words that\ndeceive our fellow-beings stand unmasked,--the deformed exponents of the\nfalsehood of the soul. We can therefore understand the character of our\nneighbor better by his actions than by his words; but to understand our\nneighbor is of little importance compared with understanding ourselves;\nand is chiefly useful because a comparison of individuals aids us in\ncomprehending our own natures. We can understand ourselves by our own\nwords if we will take the trouble to consider them dispassionately, and\nanalyze the thoughts and affections whence they spring.\n\nSo little honesty is believed to exist in ordinary Conversation, that\nthe saying of a witty courtier, that \"language is the instrument whereby\nman conceals his thoughts,\" has almost passed into a proverb. The\nquestion, in which direction is the man walking who wraps duplicity\nabout himself as his constant garment, needs no answer; for all must\nknow that the Divine Being, whose form is truth, hateth a lie.\n\nThe first element in Conversation should be sincerity. Not the blunt\nand harsh sincerity sometimes met with, which is made the cloak of\nself-esteem and bitterness; for that is an evil of the same nature as\nthe malice and hatred that show themselves in active, outward injury\ntowards the neighbor. When excited by pride or anger, the tongue needs a\nbridle no less than the hand; and when the heart can utter itself truly\nonly in the forms of such passions, silence is its only safeguard. In\nspeaking of the follies or vices of others, sincerity should be tempered\nby a Christian charity, which, while it does not gloss over vice, does\nnot dwell upon it needlessly, nor take a malicious pleasure in spreading\nit abroad, nor indulge self-complacency by dilating upon it, to give the\nidea that one is superior to such things.\n\nIf such motives are allowed to have sway, a person soon becomes\nconfirmed in the habit of gossiping,--a habit that degrades alike the\nintellect and the heart. The soul of gossip is a contemptible vanity\nthat imagines itself, or at least would have others imagine it, superior\nto all that it finds of evil and absurdity in the characters of those\nwhom it passes in review. A very little observation will serve to show\nany one that everybody sees his neighbors' faults, while very few open\ntheir eyes upon their own; and that not unfrequently a person condemns\nwith the utmost vehemence in others precisely the same follies and vices\nin which he himself habitually indulges. Those who study their own\ncharacters with most care, and who best understand themselves, are apt\nto say least of the characters of their neighbors; they find too much\nto do within themselves, in curing their own defects, to have time or\ninclination to sit in judgment upon the defects of others.\n\nIt is impossible to indulge habitually in this vice without weakening\nthe powers of the intellect. The heart never suffers alone from the\nindulgence of any wrong passion. The intellect and the affections ever\nsink as well as rise together. Where the love of gossip becomes a\nconfirmed habit, the mind loses its power of accurately appreciating the\nvalue of Character,--of distinguishing truly between the good and the\nbad. The power of discrimination is weakened and impaired, so that no\nconfidence can be placed in the opinions of the mind in relation to\nCharacter or Life. In addition to this, we must bear in mind that\nall the mental power we bestow in criticizing and ridiculing our\nfellow-beings is just so much taken from our mental strength, which we\nmight have applied to some useful intellectual exercise. The strength\nof the mind is no more indefinite than that of the body. We have but a\ncertain limited amount; and all that we apply to idle or bad purposes is\njust so much abstracted from the good and the useful.\n\nSarcasm is a weapon we are almost sure to find constantly used by the\ngossip; and whether it be shown in the coarse ridicule of the vulgar, or\nthe keen satire of the refined, it springs ever from the same source,\nand is directed to the same end; as surely as the clumsy war-club of\nsavage lands was invented from the same impulse and wrought with the\nsame intent as the graceful blade of Damascus. Its source is vanity, its\nend to make self seem great by making others seem little. It is a weapon\nthat, however skilfully wielded, always cuts both ways, wounding far\nmore deeply the hand that grasps it than the victim it strikes. Of all\nthe powers of wit, sarcasm is the lowest. There is nothing easier than\nridicule; nothing requiring a weaker head, or a colder heart.\n\nThe sincere lover of truth will never be found habitually indulging\neither in gossip or sarcasm; for those who are addicted to these vices\nnever tell a story simply as they heard it, never relate a fact simply\nas it happened. A little is added here or left out there to give the\nstory a more entertaining turn or the satire a keener point. As the\nhabit grows stronger, invention becomes more ready and copious, till at\nlength truth is covered up and lost under an accumulation of fiction.\n\nThere is a very common form of insincerity used by a class of\nwell-meaning but injudicious persons, who, rather than wound the\nfeelings of their friends, conceal the truth from them, sometimes by\nprevarication and sometimes by positive falsehood; doing wrong, that, as\nthey imagine, good may come of it; as though an evil tree could by\nany possibility bear good fruit.\n\nAnother class of persons converse as though the chief sin of\nConversation were the wounding the self-love of those to whom they\nspeak, by expressing any difference of opinion from them. Thus they\nare continually temporizing, and often contradicting themselves, and\nexhibiting a cowardly meanness of spirit, which is one of the most\ncontemptible of all the varied forms of duplicity.\n\nThere is a common form of embarrassment resulting in a hesitation of\nspeech, which often springs from a want of genuine sincerity. The\nspeaker is fancying what others will think of his remarks, instead of\nfixing his mind entirely on the subject of discourse. In this divided\nstate, his mind loses half its power, and he utters himself in a manner\nsatisfactory neither to himself nor to his hearers. No doubt hesitation\nin speech sometimes arises from want of verbal skill; but probably a\nvery large proportion of persons suffering from this difficulty would\nsoon cure themselves if they would steadfastly speak what they believe\nto be truth, just as it rises in their minds, and without stopping to\nthink what will be thought of their opinions or words by those who\nlisten to them.\n\nNext after truth, reverence is perhaps most important if we would order\nour Conversation aright. Many indulge in a frivolous mode of speech in\nspeaking of the most sacred subjects; which, though it may spring from\nnothing worse than thoughtlessness, cannot fail to exert a baneful\ninfluence on the Character, and diminish, perhaps destroy, the little\nrespect for things holy still cleaving to the heart. This same\nirreverence shows itself in another form, in speaking of the calamities\nsuffered by others, turning that into a jest which is to those under\ndiscussion cause of the most bitter anguish; and though the speakers\nprobably would not for any consideration have their words come to the\nears of those spoken of, they still do not hesitate to make food for\nmirth out of death or sin, poverty or misfortune, in a way little short\nof inhuman. The indulgence of this habit falls back upon the soul of\nthe perpetrator, wounding deeply, if it does not kill, all the finer\nsensibilities of the nature; drying up the fountains of sympathy, and\nmaking the heart hard and callous.\n\nAkin to reverence, and probably springing from it, is purity; which\nshows itself by a careful avoidance of everything profane, obscene,\ncoarse, or in any way offending delicacy, either in word, tone, or\nsuggestion. This purity cannot be too much insisted upon; for its\nopposite poisons the fountains of the heart, defiling the temple which\nshould be a dwelling-place for the Holy Spirit. Delicacy and refinement\nare too often looked upon merely as the elegant ornaments of polished\nlife. They should, on the contrary, be esteemed essentials in the\nChristian Character; Everything leaning towards profanity, obscenity, or\nindelicacy is utterly incompatible with Christian purity of heart. Low\nattempts at wit, that hinge on vulgarity, are a common form of this\nvice; and those who indulge their propensities in this direction, are\nlaying the foundation for general grossness of Character, such as they\nwould now, perhaps, shrink from with horror; but towards which they are\nnone the less surely tending.\n\nWe are told, that \"for every idle word we speak we shall give an account\nat the day of judgment; for by our words we shall be justified, and by\nour words we shall be condemned.\" This has seemed to many a very hard\nsaying, and while some persons try to explain it away, others turn\nfrom it as too hard either to explain or to receive. When, however,\nwe reflect on what words really are, we perceive that this heavy\naccountability clings to them of necessity, as effect to cause. Man was\ncreated the image and likeness of God, and when we find points hard of\ncomprehension in the character or relations of man, we may often gain\nmuch light by taking a corresponding view, so far as our finite powers\npermit, of the Divine Being.\n\nThe Scriptures are the Divine Word; that is, the verbal exponent of the\nDivine Mind; while the world around us is the material exponent of the\nsame Mind. Speech and life in humanity correspond to these two modes of\nexpression of the Divinity. When imperfectly understood, they almost of\nnecessity seem to contradict each other; but it is only then. The unity\nof the Word and Works of God is becoming constantly more apparent as man\nadvances in the knowledge of both. Each helps to explain the other, and\nit is only by a knowledge of both that the character and attributes of\nGod can be justly comprehended. A little consideration will show that\nthe speech and life of man in like manner combine to exhibit the\ncharacter and qualities of the soul within,--that they harmonize with\neach other, and that therefore of necessity by our words no less than by\nour works we must be justified or condemned before the All-seeing One.\n\nMany suppose, that because we, in our short-sighted views, are so often\nmisled by the words of our fellow-beings, they are not true pictures\nof Character. We should, however, remember that it is not before\nshort-sighted man that we are to be judged by our words, but before the\nomniscient God. To his ear our words have a very different significance\nfrom that which they bear to our fellow-beings. We should recollect,\nthat the falsehood which may make it impossible for us to judge\nrighteous judgment of our fellow-beings stands before the Lord only\nas a falsehood; and that, in whatever form it comes, from the courteous\nwhite lie--as man dares to call it--of polished society, to the\ndouble-dyed blackness of malignant hypocrisy, God sees only the\nvarying shades of dissimulation; springing, in whatever form, from a\ndeep-running undercurrent of selfishness and worldliness. We may be\ndeceived into believing words are genuine when they are not so; but\nevery disingenuous word uttered is, before God, the image and likeness\nof the duplicity that reigns within. To us they may seem the beautiful\ngarments that envelop purity and truth; but to him they are the foul and\nflimsy veils that strive to conceal the soul's deformity.\n\nMan, in the pride of his artifice, often exults because he has outwitted\nhis neighbor by his lying words, while all the time he has far more\noutwitted himself. He has degraded his own soul,--set upon it a foul\nmark that can be washed out only by the bitter tears of penitence, and\nyet holds his head aloft in fancied superiority over his fellows, while\nbefore God and the angels he stands like Cain, with the mark of sin\nimpressed upon his forehead.\n\nThat man should be condemned for lying words all will admit, but when\nmen converse idly, or without any particular thought one way or the\nother as to what they are saying, they are apt to suppose that no\nespecial moral character belongs to the words they utter. Such, however,\nis far from the truth. Man is never so sincere as in his idle moments.\nHis words are then the simple outporings of his affections. It has been\noften said, that one can always measure the refinement of any person by\nwatching his language and deportment in his moments of sportiveness. It\nis quite as easy to judge of other traits of Character when the mind is\nthrown off its guard at such moments. Idle words, more apparently than\nany other, are genuine manifestations of Character. It is in them that\nthe heart, out of its abundance, speaketh. The Conversation of a true\nChristian is characterized in his hours of gayety, no less than at\nother times, by truth tempered with love, made clear and steadfast by\nsimplicity, and clothed with reverence and purity.\n\nThe trait of Conversation we would next consider is courtesy,--Christian\ncourtesy. This is nothing more nor less than carrying out the law of\ncharity; the doing as we would be done by. It is to recognize the fact\nthat others have a right to talk as well as ourselves; and also a right\nto expect us to listen to what they say as attentively and respectfully\nas we would wish them to listen to us. We should not merely hold our\ntongues when others speak, but should scrupulously attend to what they\nsay. A person who affects politeness, although he remains silent while\nanother speaks, yet does so with an air that plainly shows he is paying\nno attention to what is said, and is waiting with impatience for the\nmoment when he can hear himself talk. This sort of listening is a mere\npretence put on by the conceited and overbearing when they wish to pass\nfor persons of polite manners; but in reality it is an insult rather\nthan a courtesy to listen in this way. To listen with true courtesy, one\nshould feel and show, not only a willingness, but a desire to know what\nanother has to say, should follow attentively all that he says, and\nshould then reply with due consideration for what has been said.\n\nIt is a remark often made, that after an argument between two or more\npersons, each individual is more strongly fixed in his previous opinion\nthan he was before. This result is often consequent upon the want of\ntrue courtesy. The parties to an argument, absorbed in admiration of\ntheir own opinions, seek not to become wiser through discourse, which\nshould be the end sought in all Conversation of an argumentative or\ndiscussive character, but seek only to draw attention to their own views\nand opinions; until that which should be Conversation degenerates into a\nmere war of words, in which each party strives to talk down, rather than\nto convince, the other. In such wordy warfare charity has no part; but\npride and combativeness hold entire dominion over the soul. He who comes\noff conqueror may exult in his own power; but he has overcome, not\nbecause reason was on his side, but because his combativeness was\nstronger than that of his opponent; and he exults in that which is\nin reality his shame. The moral and the intellectual natures suffer\ntogether in such contests. The mind fastens itself upon the prejudices\nand opinions it has chanced to adopt, loving them merely because they\nare its own, and seeks no longer to advance in the acquisition of\ntruth; while the heart, inflated with egotism, has no abiding-place for\ncharity. Let charity rule in a discussion, and how different is the\nresult. Each party then strives to aid the other in discovering the\ntruth, and at the close of the Conversation each has made some advance\nin the knowledge of truth. The ideas of both have become more clear and\nrational, and their minds have acted with far more power, because they\nhave been given exclusively to the object under consideration instead\nof being divided between the object and self-love. In the one case, the\nparties are like two horses harnessed together contrariwise, and each\nstriving to go forward by pulling the other back; while in the other,\nthey travel amicably and fleetly, side by side, toward the fountain of\ntruth.\n\nNext after courtesy comes simplicity, which may be defined as\nforgetfulness of self. There is nothing more fatal to agreeable\nConversation than thinking perpetually of one's self. Young persons,\non first going into society, are very apt to fall into the error of\nsupposing that all eyes and ears are fixed upon them, to observe how\nawkwardly or how gracefully they move, and how well or how ill they\nconverse. This is the result of a mental egotism combined with love\nof admiration, and usually produces awkward diffidence or absurd\naffectation. Too often the first weakness is overcome, or covered up,\nmost unwisely, by exchanging bashfulness for impertinent boldness; while\nthe vanity and self-consciousness of the second very rarely result in\nmanners or Conversation either sensible or agreeable. To overcome these\ndefects, wisely, requires a strong effort. They should be radically\nsubdued by learning to ask one's self, \"Am I doing what is right and\nproper?\" instead of, \"What will people think of me?\" It is no easy\ntask to learn to do this habitually, because there is involved in it\na radical change of Character. It is to learn to _be_, instead of to\n_seem_. In the first state, we are absorbed by the idea of what we\n_seem_ to others; while, in the second state, we are occupied with the\nidea of what we really _are_, without regard to the opinion of anybody,\nbut guided strictly by the abstract law of right. In the first state,\nwe are embarrassed by the complexity of our wishes and aims. We wish to\nplease everybody, and we strive to ascertain what will be agreeable\nto the various tastes of those with whom we converse. Thus we have no\nconstant landmark, no unvarying compass to guide us on our way; and we\nare drawn hither and thither, as we try now to please one person and\nthen another. Let our wishes and aims but become simple, and we walk\nsteadily and surely in the light. In the complexity of our desires we\nwere slaves; but in their simplicity we become free. Complexity strives\nperpetually after reputation, and is always advancing either in the\ndirection of servility or of arrogance, according as self-esteem or\nthe love of admiration predominate in the mind of the individual; and\nadvancing years find it ever deteriorating in all the best elements of\nCharacter. Simplicity, on the contrary, deals with what is, and not with\nwhat seems to be, and is ever seeking growth in goodness and truth;\nand therefore each added year finds it growing in all the graces of\nimproving manhood or womanhood. Complexity grows old in mind no less\nthan in body. Its moral being is scarred and wrinkled by selfishness and\nworldliness, and its intellect dried up and withered by narrow views and\nunworthy aims. In its old age there is nothing genial or lovely, and in\nits death one could almost believe that soul as well as body perishes.\nSimplicity improves in mind as it grows old in body. There are no\nwrinkles on the brow of its sunny spirit; there is no withering of its\nintellect. Its life, in time, is a perpetual advance in all that is\ngracious and intelligent,--a steady ripening for eternity,--and its\ndeath is but a birth into a fuller and more perfect life.\n\nIn Conversation, complexity adapts itself artfully to others, in order\nto gratify its own selfishness. It humors the selfishness and whims of\nthose to whom it speaks, in order to gain consideration from them, or to\nmake use of them in some way for its own advancement.\n\nSimplicity, on the contrary, adapts itself artlessly to others, because\nit is full of charity; and therefore desires to make others happy. Its\nwords are the overflow of genial thought and kindly affection; and all\nhearts that hold aught in common with it open and expand before its\ninfluences as plants start at the touch of spring. It is not so much the\nwords uttered that produce this effect, as the pleasant and kindly way\nin which they are said; for this throws a grace and an attractive charm\nabout the most commonplace objects of its Conversation.\n\nIntellectual brilliancy in Conversation dazzles and delights the\nimagination; but it does not touch the heart. Simplicity, on the\ncontrary, always impresses itself upon our feelings with a power that is\nall the more strong because we cannot analyze it by our intellect. We\ntalk with a person of simplicity about the common occurrences of the\nday, and find ourselves, we know not why, more gentle, refined, and\nhappy than we were before. We are refreshed as by drinking from a pure\nand undefiled fountain of sweet waters; refreshed as mere intellectual\npower cannot refresh us; refreshed as no book can refresh us. There is a\nharmonious completeness in the whole being of simplicity, a directness\nand honesty in all it says and does, \"a grace beyond the reach of art,\"\nin all its manifestations more potent, because more internal in its\neffects, than anything can ever be that is born merely of the intellect.\nThere is no affectation, no straining for effect in simplicity. All is\nnatural and genuine with it. Its wit is never forced, its wisdom is\nnever stilted; nor is either ever dragged in for mere display. With\nthe simple, Conversation is like a brook flowing through a beautiful\ncountry, and reflecting the varied scenes through which it passes in all\ntheir grace and beauty.\n\nAnother important trait in Conversation is the correct use of words; and\nthe effort after this cannot fail to exert a beneficial influence on\nthe mental powers. In order to speak correctly, one must observe with\naccuracy and think with justness; the endeavor to do this increases\nour love for the truth and our capacity for perceiving it. Much of the\nfalsehood in the world is the result of carelessness in observation or\nphraseology. We often hear two persons give an account of something they\nhave seen or heard, and are surprised at the discrepancies between the\ntwo narrations. Probably neither person intended to deceive; but both\nsaw or heard carelessly, and so are incompetent to describe accurately;\nand probably, also, neither has cultivated the habit of speaking\ncorrectly, as that habit is not apt to be found united with carelessness\nof observation. Such persons would, perhaps, look upon this sort of\ncarelessness as a venial offence; but it is not so. Anything that\ninterferes with, or diminishes the capacity for, perceiving or speaking\nthe truth is of importance, and should never be passed over lightly. God\nis truth no less than love, and every variation from the truth is a sin\nagainst him.\n\nIf we find we have related any fact or described any object incorrectly,\nit is not enough that we apologize for the error by saying \"we though it\nwas so.\" Such an error should impress us as a thing to be repented of,\nand we should try to ascertain why and how it was that we fell into\nit, and it should put us on our guard; that we may be more accurate in\nfuture.\n\nInaccuracy of speech often arises from a desire to tell a good\nstory, resulting from the love of admiration or from an ill-trained\nimagination. The speaker colors, exaggerates, and distorts everything he\nrelates, carefully conceals all the facts on one side of a question, and\nenlarges upon those of the opposite side with compensating fulness. It\nis no uncommon thing to see this carried to such an extent that it is\nidle to give credence to anything the person says; the more especially\nas such a person very rarely stops with mere distortion of the facts\nof a story. As the habit increases, invention supplies new facts and\ndetails to make out all the parts desired, till the listener finds it\nimpossible to separate the true from the false, and the speaker is as\nunable to distinguish his own inventions from the original facts; for\nwhen the habit of speaking the truth is neglected, the capacity for\nperceiving it is gradually lost.\n\nIn an intellectual point of view, the correct use of words is of the\nutmost importance, if one would speak well. To attain this, it is\nnecessary to have a distinct idea of the meaning of words, and then to\nendeavor to use such words as truly express the ideas of the mind. The\nuse of pet phrases and words is entirely at war with correctness in this\nrespect. With some persons, everything is pretty, from Niagara Falls to\nthe last new ribbon; while others find, or rather make, everything\nnice, splendid, or glorious. It would be esteemed an insult to the\nunderstanding of any person to suppose that the same idea or emotion\ncould be aroused in his mind by the sight of the sublimest work of\nnature as by a trifling article of dress; yet if he use the same term to\ndescribe it in each instance, he certainly lays himself open to such\nan imputation. Want of thorough education is an inadequate excuse for\nfollies of this sort, because common sense combined with far less\nknowledge than may be acquired in a common school is more than\nsufficient to enable every one to use his native tongue with sufficient\npropriety to save him from being ridiculous.\n\nThere is one specious gift which is almost sure to mislead those who are\nlargely endowed with it, and that is fluency. We listen with pain to\none who speaks hesitatingly and with difficulty, and who is obliged to\nsearch his memory for words that will correctly represent his thoughts;\nbut if, when the words come, we find they really tells us something\nworth waiting for, we feel far less weariness than in following the\nunhesitating flow of words that are but empty sound. There is always\npeculiar ease and pleasure in the exercise of a natural talent, and\nthose naturally possessed of fluency must of course find it hard to\nrestrain the tide of words that is perpetually flowing up to the lips;\nbut if they desire to converse agreeably, the effort must be made, and\nself-denial must be attained. The benefit derived by an over-fluent\ntalker from self-restraint will be quite commensurate with the effort,\nno less than with the added pleasure of the listener, for he will\ngain in the power of accurate thought every time that he resists the\ninclination to utter an unmeaning sentence.\n\nA clear and distinct utterance is another faculty that should be\ncultivated, for the effect of an otherwise interesting conversation\nmay be seriously impaired, and perhaps destroyed, by a slovenly or\nindistinct articulation. Every word and syllable should receive its due\nquantity of sound, yet without drawling or stiffness; while the voice\nshould be so modulated as to be heard without effort, and yet the\nopposite fault of speaking too loud is avoided.\n\nCorrect pronunciation is a very desirable accomplishment, though\nsomewhat difficult to attain in its details, authorities are so various;\nbut probably the most comprehensive rule that can be observed is, as\nfar as possible to avoid provincialisms. A person's pronounciation can\nhardly be elegant if it reveal at once of what State or city he is a\nnative; while freedom from local peculiarities is of itself a promise\nof good pronunciation, as it shows either that the individual has taken\npains to weed out such peculiarities, or that he has been bred among\nthose who have done so. The pronunciation of the best scholars in every\npart of our country is very similar, while the difference becomes more\nand more strongly marked between the inhabitants of the various States\nof the Union as we descend in the scale of education.\n\nFinally, do not fear to be silent when you have nothing to say. Do not\ntalk for the mere sake of talking. To sit silently and abstractedly, as\nif one were among but not of the company in which one may chance to be,\nis discourteous; because it implies a fancied superiority, or an unkind\nindifference. Good manners require that in company one should be alive\nto what is going on, but this does not imply the necessity of always\ntalking. There is, almost always, in a mixed company, some Conversation\nto which a third person may listen without intrusion; but if this should\nnot happen to be the case, it is far better to wait until something\noccurs that gives one an opportunity of talking to some rational\npurpose, than to insist that one's tongue shall incessantly utter\narticulate sounds whether the brain give it anything to say or no. This\nsort of purposeless talking exerts a positively injurious influence upon\nthe mind, by leading it into the too common error of mistaking sound for\nsense, words for ideas.\n\nBefore quitting this important subject, there is a general view to be\ntaken of it in its universal bearings upon Character, which places it\namong the most important branches of a wise education.\n\nThe true signification of education, according to one derivation of the\nword, is the bringing or leading out of the faculties. The best educated\nperson is not he who has stored up in his memory the greatest number\nof facts, but he whose faculties have become most strengthened and\nperfected by what he has learned.\n\nThere are several studies pursued in our schools and colleges, such as\nGreek, Latin, and Mathematics, rather because they are looked upon as\na kind of gymnastics, whereby the mental faculties in general are\neducated, or developed and invigorated, than because they bring a\ndirect practical benefit to life; for of the numbers who exercise their\nfaculties upon them, while in the schools, not one in ten makes any\ndirect use of them afterwards. These studies require expensive books and\nteachers, and a greater amount of time than can be given by the majority\nof men and women; and moreover they cultivate the intellect without\ndoing anything for the heart. Without in any degree questioning or\nundervaluing the great and varied benefit derived to the mind from these\nstudies in added accuracy, strength, and richness, there is still room\nfor wonder that Conversation, both as a science and an art, has no place\nin our systems of education; since its practice is a daily necessity to\nall, while its power, when wielded with skill, is second to none other\nthat is brought to bear upon the social circle.\n\nOur young girls are nearly all of them taught music with great\nexpenditure of money, time, and labor; but whether we look to the\ncultivation of actual talent, to the improvement of Character, or to\naccomplishment as a means of making ourselves agreeable in society, how\nprofitably could a part of this time and labor be employed in acquiring\nthe power and the habit of accurate language, agreeable modulation,\ndistinct utterance, and courteous attention; and it can hardly be\ndoubted that a person who possesses the power of conversing well finds\nand gives more pleasure in society than a person skilled to an equal\ndegree in music.\n\nConversation has, indeed, this advantage over all school studies; in\norder to obtain its best requisites no books are needed beyond such as\nare accessible to all, while its best teachers are the suggestions of\ncommon sense, and the conscientious love of the true and the good.\nStill, there are few persons whose efforts would not be crowned with a\nhigher success if aided by the criticism and the guidance of a competent\ninstructor. Those who are competent to self-instruction in this, as\nin all other accomplishments, are exceptional examples, and it may be\ndoubted if even these might not have reached a higher excellence, aided\nby the suggestions of another mind. Properly cultivated, Conversation\nwould have an influence in developing the whole being, of a kind and\ndegree that could hardly be over-estimated. In its exercise, Thought and\nAffection have full play, while all the stores of Memory and the wealth\nof Imagination find ample field for display.\n\nConversation is so comprehensive in its manifestations and necessities,\nthat it can reach its perfection only through the development of the\nwhole being, moral as well as intellectual; and it will constantly\nbecome more finished in proportion as this development becomes more\ncomplete. Its universality, its hourly necessity, should impress us\nwith its value; for the mercy of the Lord, as it gives light and air,\nsunshine and shower, seedtime and harvest, in short, all the essentials\nof physical development to the whole human race, so it supplies to all\nthe power and the essential means for disciplining and cultivating the\nwhole Character.\n\n\n\n\nMANNERS\n\n\n\"There is something higher in Politeness than Christian moralists have\nrecognized. In its best forms, as a simple, out-going, all-pervading\nspirit, none but the truly religious man can show it; for it is the\nsacrifice of self in the little habitual matters of life,--always the\nbest test of our principles,--together with a respect, unaffected, for\nman, as our brother under the same grand destiny.\"--C. L. BRACK.\n\n\"Manners are what vex or soothe, corrupt or purify, exalt or debase,\nbarbarize or refine us, by a constant, steady, uniform, insensible\noperation, like that of the air we breathe in.\"--BURKE.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nManners are the most external manifestation by which men display their\nindividual peculiarities of mind and heart; and unless used artificially\nto conceal the true Character, they form a transparent medium through\nwhich it is exhibited.\n\nIt has been sarcastically asserted, that few persons exist who can\nafford to be natural; and it is probable that if the human race were to\nallow their manners to be perfectly natural; that is, were they to allow\nall the passions of the soul to display themselves without restraint in\ntheir manners, social intercourse would become insupportable. Among\nthe merely worldly, the difference between an ill-bred and a well-bred\nperson is that the former displays his discomfort, ill-humor, or\nselfishness in his Manners, while the latter conceals them all under a\nveil of suavity and kindness. Selfishness prompts the one to be rude,\nand the other to be hypocritical, and each is alike unworthy of\ncommendation.\n\nManners are the garments of the spirit; the external clothing of the\nbeing, in which Character ultimates itself. If the Character be simple\nand sincere, the Manners will be at one with it; will be the natural\noutbirth of its traits and peculiarities. If it be complex and\nself-seeking, the Manners will be artificial, affected, or insincere.\nSome persons make up, put on, take off, alter, or patch their Manners to\nsuit times and seasons, with as much facility, and as little apparent\nconsciousness of duplicity, as if they were treating their clothes in\nlike fashion. If an individual of this class is going to meet company\nwith whom he wishes to ingratiate himself, he puts on his most polished\nManners, as a matter of course, just as he puts on his best clothes;\nand when he goes home, he puts them off again for the next important\noccasion. For home use, or for associating with those about whose\nopinion he is indifferent, no matter how rude the Manners, or how\nuncared for the costume. Perhaps the rudeness may chance to come out in\nsome overt act that will not bear passing over in silence, and then the\nperpetrator utters an \"excuse me,\" that reminds one of a bright new\npatch set upon an old faded garment. Not that such a patch is unworthy\nof respect when worn by honest poverty, and set on with a neatness that\nmakes it almost ornamental. This is like the \"excuse me\" of a truly,\nwell-bred man, apologizing for an offence he regrets; while the \"excuse\nme\" of the habitually rude man is like the botched patch of the sloven\nor the beggar, who wears it because the laws of the land forbid\nnakedness.\n\nThe fine lady of this class may be polished to the last degree, when\narrayed in silks and laces she glides over the rich carpets of the\ndrawing-room; and yet, with her servants at home, she is possibly less\nthe lady than they; or worse still, this fine lady, married, perhaps, to\na fine gentleman of a character similar to her own, in the privacy of\ndomestic life carries on a civil war with him, in which all restraint of\ncourtesy is set aside.\n\nThere is so much undeniable hypocrisy in the high-bred courtesy of\npolished society, that among many religious persons there has come to\nbe an indifference, nay, almost an opposition, to Manners that savor of\nelegance or courtliness. If, however, Christian charity reign within,\nrudeness or indifference cannot reign without. One may as well look for\na healthy physical frame under a skin revolting from disease, as for a\nhealthy moral frame under Manners rude and discourteous; for Manners\nindicate the moral temperament quite as accurately as the physical\ntemperament is revealed by the complexion. Selfishness and arrogance\nof disposition express themselves in indifferent, rude, or overbearing\nManners; while vanity and insincerity are outwardly fawning and\nsycophantic. If Christian charity reign in the heart, it can fitly\nexpress itself only in Manners of refinement and courtesy; and the\nChristian should not be unwilling to wear such Manners in all sincerity,\nbecause the worlding assumes them to serve his purposes of selfishness.\nWorldly wisdom ever pays Virtue the compliment of imitation; but that is\nno good reason why Virtue should hesitate to appear like herself. The\nbest Manners possible are the simple bringing down of the perfect law of\ncharity into the most external ultimates of social life. Until Character\ntends at all times, and in all places, and towards all persons, to\nultimate itself in Manners of thorough courtesy, it is not building\nitself upon a sure foundation. The ultimates of all things serve as\ntheir basis and continent; therefore must true charity of heart be built\nupon and contained within true charity of Manner.\n\nWhen we are in doubt regarding the value of any particular trait of\nCharacter, we can generally find the solution of our difficulty by\nworking out an answer to the question, How does it affect our usefulness\nin society? There are three modes in which we express ourselves towards\nthose with whom we come in contact in the family and social relations of\nlife,--Action, Conversation, and Manners. The importance of ordering\nthe first two of these expressions aright can hardly be doubted by any\nthinking being; but that conscience has anything to do with Manners\nwould probably be questioned by many. Let us ascertain the moral bearing\nof Manners by the test just indicated.\n\nWhat effect have our Manners upon our usefulness as social beings?\nConversation is in general the expression of our thoughts; much more\nseldom do we express our affections in words. Manners, on the contrary,\nare the direct expression of our affections. They are to Action what\ntone is to Conversation. Many persons may be found who make use of\nfalsehood in their Conversation, but very few who can lie in the tones\nof their voice. So many persons can act hypocritically, but there are\ncomparatively few whose Manners are habitually deceitful. Our words and\nactions are more easily under our control than our tones and manners;\nbecause the former are more the result of Thought, while the latter\nare almost entirely the result of Affection. Although few persons are\ndistinctly aware of this difference, every one is powerfully affected by\nit. There is no physical quality more powerful to attract or to repel\nthan the tones of the voice; and this power is all the stronger because\nboth parties are usually unconscious of it; and so mutually act and are\nacted upon, simply and naturally, without effort or resistance. Thus\nconversation often owes its effect less to the words used than to the\ntones in which they are uttered. An unpalatable truth may come without\nexciting any feeling of irritation or opposition from one who speaks\nwith a tone of voice expressive of the benevolent affections, and\nproduce much good; while the very same words, uttered in a tone of\nasperity or bitterness, may exasperate the hearer, and be productive\nonly of harm. It has already been said, that Manners bear the same\nrelation to life that tone bears to conversation; and a good life loses\ngreat portion of the power it might exert over those who come within the\ninfluence of its sphere if it ultimate itself in ungracious or repulsive\nManners. In the old English writers we often find persons characterized\nas Christian gentlemen or Christian ladies; and courtesy seems formerly\nto have been clearly understood to be a Christian virtue. Our conflict\nwith, and our escape from, the aristocracy and privileges of rank of\nolder nations has caused a reaction, not only against them, but also\nagainst the external politeness which was connected with them, and\nwhich was, and is too often, though certainly not always, false and\nhypocritical; and thus the growth of republican principles has had the\neffect to diminish the respect once entertained for good Manners, and\nthe mass of our countrymen seem to look upon politeness as an antiquated\nremnant of a past age, which the present has outgrown as entirely as\nwigs and hoop-petticoats. It is, however, a curious feature in the\nchange, that at no previous time have the titles of gentleman and lady\nbeen so universally and pertinaciously assumed as at the present. The\nrudest even are resentful at being called simply men or women, while\nthey unconsciously show the weakness of their claim to a higher title by\ndenying it to those who they assume are no better than themselves. The\noften-repeated anecdote of the Yankee stage-driver who asked of the Duke\nof Saxe Weimer, \"Are you the man that wants an extra coach?\" and on\nbeing answered in the affirmative, said, \"Then I am the gentleman to\ndrive you,\" is an illustration of what is going on continually around\nus. A large proportion of the members of one half of society stands in\nperpetual fear that those in the other half do not esteem them gentlemen\nand ladies; and yet it seldom seems to occur to them to substantiate\ntheir claim to the coveted title by that cultivation of good Manners,\nwhich can alone make it theirs of right.\n\nThe artificial Manners and laws of social life are so overloaded with\nconventionalisms, and a knowledge of these is so often made a test of\ngood-breeding, that much confusion of opinion exists regarding the\nrequisites that constitute the true gentleman and lady. These titles\nbelong to something real, something not dependent on the knowledge and\npractice of conventionalisms that change with every changing season,\nbut to substantial qualities of Character which are the same yesterday,\nto-day, and to-morrow.\n\nThe foundation of good Manners is the sincere acknowledgment that we are\nall children of one great family, all one band of brothers, each having\na right to receive from the rest all the consideration and forbearance\nthat can be given him without diminishing the portion that belongs to\nthe others. The rich complain of the envy and jealousy of the poor, and\nthe poor murmur because of the arrogance and haughtiness of the rich;\nyet if those among the two classes who are guilty of these vices were to\nchange positions, they would change vices too; for arrogance _in_ the\npossessor and envy _towards_ the possessor of wealth are but differing\nphases of a love for wealth based on the love for that consideration\nin society which it gives, and not for the power it yields of added\nusefulness.\n\nThe ill-bred fashionist sails haughtily into the shop where she obtains\nmaterials for her adornment, and with a supercilious air purchases her\nribbons and laces of a sulky girl, who revenges herself for not being\nable to wear the costly gauds by treating as rudely as she dares the\ncustomer who can; and as they look upon each other, the one with scorn,\nand the other with envious hate, we see in both only the very same\nlittleness of feminine vanity, which in its narrow-minded silliness\nbelieves that the first requisite of a lady is costly garments.\n\nIt would be a great mistake to suppose that in our higher society there\nare no good Manners, none that are really good in essence and purpose,\nas well as in form; and it would be an equal mistake to suppose, that in\nall society of lower caste there is either a want of true refinement or\nan envy and distrust of all that is above it; but it is also true that\nthere is a magic circle known as \"genteel,\" and a perpetual antagonism\nprevails here between those who are within and those who desire\nadmittance, but are refused; as there are literary circles where\ncontentions and envyings arise between pedantic scholarship and assuming\nignorance.\n\nThe ill-breeding so often complained of in the intercourse between the\ndifferent classes of society, and by none more indignantly than those\nwho exercise it most, results from the factitious value set upon the\nexternals of life by those who estimate them in proportion as they give\ndistinction among men, and not as they increase the means of happiness\nand usefulness in this world, and so prepare us for the usefulness and\nhappiness of the world to come.\n\nThose among the poor, the ignorant, and the vulgar, whose hearts are\nburning with envy and hatred; and those among the rich, the learned, and\nthe fashionable, who are rendered arrogant and supercilious by their\npossessions, are alike unconscious of the true worth of the blessings\nthat excite the covetousness of the one class and the exultation of the\nother. Each party values man for his possessions, and not for the use\nthat he makes of them; for what he has, and not for what he is. Where\nthis is the case, mutual aversion ultimating itself on both sides in\nacts of discourtesy, will ever keep alive a spirit of antagonism among\nthe various classes of society; and this will disappear in proportion as\nsociety becomes sufficiently Christianized to perceive and acknowledge\nthat every human being is worthy of respect so far as he fulfils the\nduties of his station; and that we cannot be discourteous even towards\nthe evil and the unfaithful, without indulging feelings of pride and\ndisdain that are incompatible with Christian meekness.\n\nIn the social intercourse of equals, and in domestic life, ill-temper,\nselfishness, and indifference, which is a negative form of selfishness,\nare the principal sources of ill-breeding. Where the external forms of\ncourtesy are not observed in the family circle, we are almost sure to\nfind perpetually recurring contention and bickering. Rudeness is a\nconstant source of irritation; because, however little the members of a\nfamily regard politeness, each will have his own way of being rude,\nand each will probably be disgusted or angry at some portion of the\nill-breeding of all the rest. Rudeness is always angular, and its\nsharp corners produce discomfort whenever they come in contact with a\nneighbor. Politeness presents only polished surfaces, and not only never\nintrudes itself upon a neighbor, but is rarely obtruded upon; for there\nis no way so effectual of disarming rudeness as by meeting it with\nthorough politeness; for the rude man can fight only with his own\nweapons.\n\nIndifference of Manner exhibits a disregard for the comfort and pleasure\nof those around us, which, though not so obtrusive as rudeness, shows an\negotism of disposition incompatible with brotherly love. If we love our\nneighbor as ourself, we cannot habitually forget his existence so far\nas to annoy him by neglecting to perform, the common courtesies of life\ntowards him, or interfere with what he is doing by not perceiving that\nwe are in his way.\n\nIf we would be thoroughly well-bred, we must be so constantly. It is not\nvery difficult to distinguish in society between those whose manners are\nassumed for the occasion and those who wear them habitually. The former\nare apt to forget themselves occasionally, or they overact their part,\nor if they succeed in sustaining a perfect elegance of deportment that\nis really pleasing as an effort of art, they always want the grace of\nnaturalness and simplicity which belongs to the Manners of those who\nhave made courtesy and refinement their own by loving them. It is only\nwhen we act as we love to act, that our Manners are truly our own. If we\ncultivate the external forms of politeness from an indirect motive, that\nis, from the love of approbation, or from pride of character, it is the\nreward we love, and not the virtue; and if we gain this reward, it is\nonly external and perishable; and is of no benefit to our character, but\nthe reverse, for it ministers only to our pride. If, on the contrary,\nwe cultivate politeness with simplicity, because we believe it to be a\nvirtue, and love it for its own sake, we are sure of the reward of an\nadded grace of character, which can never be taken from us, because it\nis a part of ourselves; and though we may enjoy the external rewards if\nthey come, we shall not be disturbed if they do not; because these were\nnot the motives that induced our efforts.\n\nPoliteness, where it is loved and cultivated with simplicity for its own\nsake, gives a repose and ease of action to the moral being which may be\ncompared to the comfort and satisfaction resulting to the physical\nframe from habits of personal cleanliness. The moral tone is elevated\nand refined by the one, as the animal functions are purified and renewed\nby the other.\n\nAs in civil life liberty to the whole results from the subjection of\nthe evil passions of all to legal enactments, so in social life every\nindividual is free and at ease in proportion as all the rest are subject\nto the laws of courtesy. Ease and freedom are the result of order,\nand it is as incorrect to call rude Manners free and easy, as to call\nlicentiousness liberty. No man is truly free who allows his sphere of\nlife to impinge upon that of his neighbor. Fluids are said to move\neasily because each particle is without angular projections that prevent\nit from gliding smoothly with or by its companions; and in like manner\nthe ease of society depends on the polish of each individual. If the\nunits of society seek their own selfish indulgence, without regard to\nthe rights of the neighbor, the whole must form a mass of grating atoms\nin which no one can be free, or at ease.\n\nIndifference, ill-temper, selfishness, envy and arrogance, all positive\nvices, are the characteristics that ultimate themselves in ill-manners.\nRudeness is, as it were, the offensive odor exhaled from the corrupt\nfruit of an evil tree; and he who would be a branch of the true vine\nmust remember, whenever he is tempted to do a rude thing, that he will\nnever yield to such temptation unless there is hidden somewhere upon his\nbranch fruit that should be cut off and cast into the fire.\n\nThe Christian gentleman and lady are such because they love their\nneighbor as themselves; and to be a thorough Christian without being\na gentleman or lady is impossible. Wherever we find the rich without\narrogance, and the poor without envy, the various members of society\nsustaining their mutual relations without suspicion or pretension, the\nfamily circle free from rivalry, fault-finding, or discord, we shall\nfind nothing ungentle, for there the spirit of Christianity reigns. He\nwho is pure in heart can never be vulgar in speech, and he who is meek\nand loving in spirit can never be rude in manner.\n\n\n\n\nCOMPANIONSHIP.\n\n\n  Learn to admire rightly; the great pleasure of life is that. Note what\n  the great men admired; they admired great things: narrow spirits admire\n  basely, and worship meanly.\"--THACKERAY.\n\n  \"According to the temper and spirit by which it is influenced, prayer\n  opens or shuts the kingdom of life and peace on the soul of the\n  supplicant, elevating him either to a closer conjunction with the Lord\n  and his angelic kingdom, or plunging him into a more deplorable depth\n  of separation, by immersing him into association with the lost\n  spirits of darkness.\"--CLOWES.\n\n         *       *       *       *       *\n\nMan was not born to live alone, and it is only in and through the\nrelations of the family and the social circle that the better parts of\nhis nature can be developed. Solitude is good occasionally, and they who\nfly from it entirely can hardly attain to any high degree of spiritual\ngrowth; but still in all useful solitude there must be a recognition of\nsome being beside self. He who turns to solitude only to brood over\nthoughts of self, soon becomes a morbid egoist, and it is only when we\nstudy in solitude in order to make our social life more wise and true\nthat our solitary hours are blessed.\n\nMan really alone is something we can hardly imagine. He becomes\ncognizable almost entirely through his relations with God and with his\nfellow-men. Heathen philosophy sought to make man wise by withdrawing\nhim from the passions and affections that move him when associated with\nhis fellow-men, in order that he might devote himself to the study of\nabstract truth. Christian philosophy teaches that truth owes its\nsanctity to the Divine Love, which alone gives it Life; and that by\nleading a life of love we acquire the power of understanding the truth.\nPhilosophy is a dead abstraction until piety and charity fill it with\nthe breath of life.\n\nThe offices of piety belong in great part to solitude, and the offices\nof charity to society; but the principle of Companionship is involved in\nboth; for piety associates us with God as charity associates us with\nman.\n\nAll Companionship involves the idea of both giving and receiving. In the\noffices of piety, in proportion as we give a worship that is earnest and\nheartfelt, is the warmth and clearness of the influx of heavenly love\nand wisdom that we receive. In the offices of charity, our love is\nwarmed and our wisdom enlightened in proportion as we disinterestedly\nseek the true happiness of those whose lives come within the sphere of\nour influence, guided, not by blind instinct, but by an enlightened\nChristianity. Thus the quality and quantity of what we receive from\nCompanionship depends on the quality and quantity of what we give.\n\nThere is no surer test of Character than the Companionship we habitually\nseek; for we always prefer the society of those who administer to our\ndominant love. Some seek the society of their superiors, others of their\nequals, and others, again, of their inferiors; and the members of each\nclass are actuated in their choice by very various motives. Thus, among\nthe first class are found the ambitious, who seek their superiors\nbecause they fancy themselves elevated by the reflection of the\nattributes they admire; the proud, who fancy themselves degraded by\nassociation with their inferiors; and the humble, who seek to be\nadvanced in goodness, in knowledge, or in refinement through intercourse\nwith those who excel. On the other hand are those who seek their\ninferiors from the vanity that demands admiration as its daily food, or\nthe pride that feels itself oppressed in the presence of a superior, or\nthe philanthropy that loves to give of its stores to those less endowed\nthan itself. The middle class may be actuated in their choice by the\nlove of sympathy in their pursuits, or by a kind of indolence that is\ndisturbed by whatever differs much from itself. There is less purpose\nand vitality in this class than in either of the others; but merely a\ndesire to float with the surrounding current, whithersoever it may tend.\n\nThe constituents of society are so varied in quality, that it would be\nvery difficult for any one to associate exclusively with a particular\nclass; and it may be doubted if we have a right to seek to do so. The\nvariety in social life is adapted to develop the various qualities of\nthe human soul far more perfectly than they could be if the different\nclasses of humanity were entirely separated in their walks. All should\nbe willing to give as well as to receive, and to this end all should be\nwilling to associate in a spirit of brotherly love with their superiors\nor their inferiors without any feeling either of servility or of\nelation. We may seek the society of our superiors in order to enrich\nourselves, and that of our inferiors in order to give freely even as we\nhave received; while with our equals we alternately give and receive,\nfor no two persons are so similarly endowed but that each may gain by\nassociating with the other. In truth, whichever way the balance may\nincline, none ever give without receiving, and none can receive without\ngiving.\n\nNo Companionship is wise that does not involve the principle of growth.\nIf the influence of our associates does not make us go forward, it will\nsurely cause us to go backward. If we are not elevated by it, we shall\ncertainly be degraded. Two persons cannot associate and either party\nremain just as he was before; and if we would find in society an element\nof growth, we must seek for all that is elevating in whatever circles we\nmove; for it is not confined to any particular circle or class, but\nwaits everywhere for the true seeker.\n\nBlessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth, said the Lord,\nteaching as never man taught; and it is in proportion as we walk meekly\nwith our fellow-men that our capacities become capable of receiving, to\ntheir fullest extent, the influx of goodness and truth that should be\nthe end of social intercourse. Nothing obstructs our receptivity so much\nas that egoism of thought and affection which keeps self perpetually\nbefore the mind's eye, and to this egoism meekness is the direct\nopposite. Meekness implies forgetfulness of self. There is nothing\nservile about it, but it pursues its way in pure simplicity, forgetting\nself in its steadfast devotion to what it seeks. Egoism pursues its aims\nfrom love of self and of the world, and confides in its own strength for\nsuccess. Meekness pursues its aims from the love of excellence, and\nconfiding in the strength of the Lord. The first love is dim of sight,\nand often satisfies itself with the shadow of what it seeks, while its\nstrength is too feeble to grasp the higher forms of excellence. The\nsecond love is full of light, because its eye is single; it can be\nsatisfied only with substance, and its endeavors know no limit, because\nits strength comes from Him who never fails nor wearies.\n\nMeekness is always ready to receive of the excellence it seeks, through\nwhatever medium it can be obtained; while egoism is perpetually hindered\nin its advancement by its unwillingness to owe it to any source out of\nself.\n\nSimilar results follow in giving as in receiving. Meekness gives in\nsimplicity from love to the neighbor, and feels as great pleasure in\nimparting from its stores as in receiving additions to them, because the\npleasure it imparts is reflected back upon itself, making all its good\noffices twice blessed. Egoism is twice cursed, as all that it receives\nand all that it gives perpetually adds to its love of self; for it\nvalues what it possesses because it is its own, and imparts to others\nbecause it enjoys a feeling of superiority over the recipient of its\npossessions. Meekness builds itself up; egoism puffs itself up. To\nmeekness Companionship is a perpetual source of healthful growth; while\nto egoism it furnishes food only to supply the demands of a morbid\nenlargement, destructive to all manly and womanly symmetry.\n\nSociety at large, according as we walk in it in a spirit of meekness or\na spirit of egoism, thus serves to develop and expand our powers, or to\nnarrow and degrade them more and more continually. To the casual\nobserver, the difference in the advancement of the two classes may not\nin early life be apparent. The forth-putting pretension of egoism may\nindeed cause it to seem the more rapidly advancing character of the two;\nbut the progress of years will widen the separation between their paths,\ntill it shall be seen as a great gulf, of which the opposite sides have\nnaught in common. Advancing age will show the egoist narrow-minded and\noverbearing, peevish and fault-finding; while he who pursues his even\ncourse, walking in Christian meekness with his fellow-men, will in old\nage exhibit ever-enlarging charity and ever-expanding wisdom, and his\ngray hairs will seem like a crown of glory.\n\nIt may seem almost needless to speak of the danger to Character that is\ninvolved in seeking the Companionship of the worthless or the evil-\ndisposed. \"Can one handle pitch and not be defiled?\" Yet the usages of\nsociety are so disordered, that the possession of wealth, family\ndistinction, or personal elegance, though accompanied by ignorance,\nfolly, or even dissoluteness, is sometimes a surer passport into what is\ntermed good society than the best culture of mind and heart, where\nexternal advantages have been denied.\n\nWhen we value mankind according to their external advantages, our moral\nstandard is as false as the drawing upon a Chinese plate. We have no\ntrue moral perspective. Our ideas of right and wrong are confused and\nimperfect, and in danger of becoming corrupt. We laugh at the stupidity\nof the poor Chinaman in his attempts after beauty in art, while in\nmorals we are quite as stupid as he. Believing ourselves wise, we are\nfools. It is very hard to escape being unduly influenced by the opinions\nof society; but the more earnestly we seek true excellence for\nourselves, the more easily we learn to value true excellence in others,\nand, to overlook the opinions of the world. The more independent we\nbecome of opinion, the better will be the influence we exert upon\nsociety, as well as that which we receive from it in return.\n\nIf the influence of our Companionship with those whom we meet in general\nsociety and in the daily avocations of life be important, far more so is\nthat which comes to us through the friends whom we select from the world\nat large as best adapted to minister to our happiness; and in proportion\nas they are near and dear to us will their influence be strong and deep.\n\nThe choice of friends is influenced by an equal variety of motives, and\nof a similar nature as those that lead to the selection of the social\ncircle. There is often no better foundation than selfishness for what\npasses current in the world for ardent friendship. The selfish and\nworldly love from selfish and worldly motives, and doubtless they\nreceive their reward; but if we would derive the advantages to Character\nthat result from a wise Companionship, we must select our friends\nwithout undue regard to the opinions of the world, and impelled by a\ndesire for moral or intellectual advancement. Falsehood and fickleness\nin friendship result from its being built upon merely selfish or\ncircumstantial foundations. When built upon mutual respect and\naffection, it contains no element of decay or change; and they who trust\nto any other foundation have no right to complain if their confidence is\nabused and disappointed.\n\nPersons sometimes suppose themselves the fast friends of others, when\ntheir affection is merely the result of benefits received directly or\nindirectly; and if these benefits are withheld, their supposed\nfriendship is dissipated at once, or perhaps changed to enmity. Such a\nfriendship is merely circumstantial, and has no just claim to the name.\nMere juxtaposition, the habit of seeing each other every day, is often\nsufficient to produce what the parties concerned esteem friendship, and\nto occasion the freest interchange of confidence. The slightest change\nof circumstance, a few miles of separation, an inadvertent offence, a\ntrival difference of opinion, a clashing of interests, are, any one of\nthem, sufficient to bring such an intimacy to an end, and to cast\nreproach upon the sacred name of friendship, when friendship had never\nexisted between the parties for a single moment.\n\nGenuine friendship can exist only between persons of some elevation of\nmoral character, and its strength and devotion will be commensurate with\nthe degree of this moral elevation. Truthfulness, frankness,\ndisinterestedness, and faithfulness are qualities absolutely essential\nto friendship, and these must be crowned by a sympathy that enters into\nall the joys, the sorrows, and the interests of the friend, that\ndelights in all his upward progress, and, when he stumbles or falls, as\nall at times must, stretches out the helping hand, not condescendingly\nnor scornfully, but in the simplicity of true charity, that forgives\neven as it would be forgiven, and is tender and patient even where it\ncondemns. In such a friendship there is no room for rivalry, weariness,\ndistrust, or anything subversive of confidence. With the selfish and the\nworldly, such a connection cannot exist, because with them rivalries and\nclashing interests must arise; for it is only among the seekers after\nexcellence that there is room for the gratification of the desires of\nall. Neither can it exist between the false, for falsehood shuts the\ndoor upon confidence; nor with the morally weak, the foolish, or the\nidle, for they weary of each other even as they weary of themselves.\n\nOf all earthly Companionship, there is none so deeply fraught with weal\nor woe, with blessing or with cursing, as the Companionship of married\nlife. After this relationship is formed, although the threads still\nremain the same, the whole warp and woof of the being are dyed with a\nnew color, woven according to a new pattern. Character is never the same\nafter marriage as before. There is a new impetus given by it to the\npowers of thought and affection, inducing them to a different activity,\nand deciding what tendencies are henceforth to take the lead in the\naction of the mind; whether the soul is to spread its wings for a higher\nflight than it has hitherto ventured, or to sit with closed pinions,\ncontent to be of the earth, earthy. All are interested, even strangers,\nIn hearing of the establishment of a newly married pair in what relates\nto the equipage of external life. Far more interesting would it be if we\ncould trace the mental establishing that is going on, as old traits of\ncharacter are confirmed or cast aside, and new ones developed or\nimplanted.\n\nThis union, so sacred that it even supersedes that which exists between\nparent and child, should be entered upon only from the highest and\npurest motives; and then, let worldly prosperity come or go as it may,\nthis twain whom God has joined, not by a mere formal ritual of the\nChurch, but by a true spiritual union that man cannot put asunder, are a\nheaven unto themselves, and peace will ever dwell within their\nhabitation.\n\nIn proportion as a true marriage of the affections between the pure in\nheart is productive of the highest happiness that can exist on earth, so\nevery remove from it diminishes the degree of this happiness until it\npasses into the opposite, and becomes, in its most worldly and selfish\nform, a fountain of misery, of a quality absolutely infernal.\n\nAmid the disorder and imperfection reigning in the world, it is not to\nbe supposed that a large proportion of marriages should be truly\nheavenly. In order to arrive at this, both parties must be of a higher\nmoral standing than is often reached at an age when marriage is usually\nentered upon; but unless the character of each is inclined heavenward\nthere is no rational ground for anticipating happiness, except of the\nlowest kind.\n\nMany persons of a naturally amiable disposition enjoy what may seem a\nhigh degree of happiness, through their sympathy with each other in\nworldliness and ambition; but such happiness is not of a kind that can\nendure the clouds and tempests of life. It is nourished only by the good\nthings of this world, and, if it cannot obtain them, is converted into\nthe greater wretchedness because the being who is dearest in life shares\nthis wretchedness. When, on the contrary, things heavenly are those most\nhighly prized and earnestly sought, each party helps to sustain the\nother in all earthly privations and disappointments; for each is looking\nbeyond and above the trials of earth, and each is in possession of a\nhope, nay, a fruition, that cannot be taken away, and which is dearer\nthan all that is lost. With them, to suffer together is to rob suffering\nof half its weight, and almost all its bitterness. Whatever earthly\ndeprivation may befall them, the kingdom of heaven is ever within their\nsouls.\n\nThe Companionship of our fellow-beings is not confined to the living men\nand women around us, but comes to us, through books, from all nations\nand ages. Wise teachers stand ever ready to instruct us, gentle\nmoralists to console and strengthen us, poets to delight us. Scarce a\ncountry village is so poor that there may not be found beneath its roofs\nthe printed words of more great men than ever lived at any one period of\nthe earth's history.\n\nWe are too apt to use books, as well as society, merely for our\namusement; to read the books that chance to fall into our hands, or to\nassociate with the persons we happen to meet with, and not stop to ask\nourselves if nothing better is within our reach. It may not be in our\npower to associate with great living minds, but the mental wealth of the\npast is within the reach of all. We boast much that we are a reading\npeople, but it may be well to inquire how intelligently we read. The\ncatalogues of books borrowed from our public libraries show, that, where\nthe readers of works of amusement are counted by hundreds, the readers\nof instructive books are numbered by units. In conversation, it is not\nuncommon to hear persons expressing indifference or dislike to whole\nclasses of books,--to hear Travels denounced as stupid, Biography as\ntame, and History as heavy and dull. It does not seem to occur to the\nmass of minds that any purpose beyond the amusement of the moment is to\nbe thought of in reading, or that any plan should be laid, or any\nprinciples adopted, in the choice of books to be read.\n\nIt is undoubtedly a great good that nearly all our people are taught to\nread, but it is a small fraction of the community that reads to much\ngood purpose. Children, so soon as they have acquired the use of the\nalphabet, are inundated with little juvenile stories, some of them good,\nbut most of them silly, and many vulgar. As they grow older, successions\nof similar works of fiction await them, until they arrive at\nadolescence, when they are fully prepared for all the wealth of folly,\nvulgarity, falsehood, and wickedness that is bound up within the yellow\ncovers of most of the cheap novels that infest every highway of the\nnation.\n\nAs you are jostled through the streets of our populous cities, or take\nyour seat in a crowded railway-car, you are, perhaps, impressed with the\ngeneral air of rudeness that pervades the scene,--a rudeness of a kind\nso new to the world, that, no old word sufficing to describe it, a new\nname has been coined, and the swaggering, careless, sensual looking\nbeings, reeking with the fumes of tobacco, that make up the masses of\nour moving population, are adequately described only by the word\n_rowdy_. As yet, no title has been found for the female of this class,\n--bold, dashing, loud-talking and loud-laughing, ignorant, vain, and so\ncoarse that she supposes fine clothes and assuming manners are all that\nis necessary to elevate her to the rank of a lady. Perhaps you wonder\nhow so numerous a race of these beings has come to exist; but that boy\nat your elbow, bending under the weight of his literary burden, is a\ncolporteur for converting the men and women of this \"enlightened nation\"\nto rowdyism. Those books portray just such men and women as you see\nbefore you, and that is why they are welcomed so warmly. A few cents\nwill buy from that boy enough folly and impurity to gorge a human mind\nfor a week, and possibly few among this throng often taste more\nwholesome intellectual food.\n\nIt is probable that some of these persons are the children of\nintelligent and well-bred parents; but their fathers were engrossed in\nbusiness, and their mothers in family cares, and thought they had no\ntime to form the moral and intellectual tastes of the immortal minds\ncommitted to their charge. They fancied that if they sent their children\nto good schools, and provided liberally for all their external wants,\nthey had done enough. Ignorant nursery maids, perhaps, taught them\nmorals and manners, while the father toiled to accumulate the means for\nsupplying their external wants, and the mother hemmed ruffles and\nscolloped trimming to make people say, \"How _sweetly_ those children are\ndressed!\" as the maid paraded them through the streets, teaching them\ntheir first lessons in vulgar vanity.\n\nA child may be educated at the best schools without acquiring any taste\nfor good literature. The way a parent treats a child in relation to its\nbooks has far more influence in this respect than a teacher can possibly\npossess. A mother, even if she is not an educated woman, can learn to\nread understandingly, and can teach her child to read in the same way.\nShe can talk to it about its books, and awaken a desire in its mind to\nunderstand what it reads. Children are always curious in regard to the\nphenomena of nature, and whether this curiosity lives or dies depends\nvery much on the answers it receives to its first questions. If the\nmother cannot answer them herself, she can help the child to find an\nanswer somewhere else, and she should beware how she deceives herself\nwith the idea that she has not time to attend to the moral and\nintellectual wants of her child. She has no right to so immerse all her\nown mind in the cares of life that she cannot, while attending to them,\ntalk rationally with her children. The mothers who best fulfil their\nhigher duties towards their children are quite as often found among\nthose who are compelled to almost constant industry of the hands, as\namong those of abundant leisure. There is nothing in the handiwork of\nthe housekeeper or the seamstress that need absorb all the mental\nattention; and hers must be an ill-regulated mind that cannot ply the\nneedle, or perform the more active duties of the household, and yet\nlisten to the child as it reads its little books, and converse with it\nabout the moral lessons or the intellectual instruction they contain.\nThe mother has it in her power to influence the mode in which the child\nmakes companions of its books more than any other person; and the\ncharacter of its Companionship with them through life will generally\ndepend in a great degree on the tastes and habits acquired in childhood.\n\nMany parents who guard their children with jealous care from the\ncontamination of rude and vicious society among other children, allow\nthem to associate with ideal companions of a very degraded kind. The\nparent should check the propensity, not only to read bad books, but also\nto read idle or foolish books, by exciting the action of the mind\ntowards something better. Merely to deny improper books is not enough.\nSomething must be given in place of them, or the craving will continue,\nand the child will be very apt to gratify its appetite in secret.\n\nChildren are easily led to observe nature, animate or inanimate, with\ninterest, and there are many simple books illustrating the departments\nof natural science which mothers could make interesting to their\nchildren at the same time that they instructed themselves. Juvenile\nworks on history abound, and through them the child may be led, as\nintelligence expands, to seek more extended and thorough treatises; and\nthe sympathy of the mother should be ready to help him on his way. It is\nmere self-deception in those mothers who deny their mental capacity, or\ntheir command of time, to aid their children in their mental progress.\nIt is a _moral_ want of their own, far more than everything else, that\ncauses them to shrink from this most important responsibility.\n\nThose who have passed the period of childhood, who have taken upon\nthemselves the responsibility of all that concerns their own minds, and\nwho have any desire after upward progress, should remember that the\nbooks they love best are those which reflect their own characteristics.\nEvery one looks up to his favorite books, and the tone of his mind is\ninfluenced by them in consequence. In our Companionship with our fellow-\nbeings we may be governed to a great extent by our desire to stand well\nwith the world, and therefore seek the society of those whom the world\nmost admires rather than those we most enjoy. In the choice of our books\nthere is much less influence of this kind exerted upon us. In the\nretirement of our homes we may daily consort with the low or the wicked,\nas they are delineated in books, and our standing with the world be in\nno way affected, while the poison we imbibe will work all the more\nsurely that it works secretly. They whose ideas of right and wrong are\ndependent on the judgment of the world may need even this poor guide,\nand suffer from the want of it; for in doing what the world does not\nknow, and therefore cannot condemn, they may encounter evil and danger\nfrom which even the love of the world would protect them, if the same\nthings were to be exposed to the public eye. We have no more moral right\nto read bad books than to associate with bad men, and it would be well\nfor us in selecting our books to be governed by much the same principles\nas in the selection of our associates; to feel that they are, in fact,\ncompanions and friends whose opinions cannot fail to exert a powerful\ninfluence upon us, and that we cannot associate with them\nindiscriminately without great danger to our characters.\n\nThe Book of books, the Word of God, should occupy the first place in our\nestimation; and the test question in regard to the value of all other\nbooks is, whether they draw us towards, or away from, the Bible. So far\nas they are written with a genuine love for goodness and truth, books in\nevery department of science and literature have a tendency, more or less\nstrong, to increase our reverence and love for the Source of all\ngoodness and truth; and no book can be subversive of our faith in the\nScriptures that has not its foundation laid in falsehood.\n\nNature may tell us of a Creator, but the Bible alone reveals a Father.\nNature describes him as far from us, removed beyond all sympathy, before\nwhose power we tremble, and whose mercy we might strive to propitiate by\nsacrifices or entreaties; but from the Bible we learn that he is near at\nhand, watching every pulsation of the heart, listening to every\naspiration that we breathe; that we walk with him so long as we obey his\ncommandments, and that though we may turn from him, he never turns from\nus; that when we approach him in prayer, it should not be with fear,\nbut with love; and loving him with the knowledge that he first loved us,\nwe find that prayer, in its true form, is a Companionship, and that the\nFather rejoices over his child in proportion as the child rejoices in\napproaching the throne of mercy.\n\nPure and holy influences come to us immediately through our Companionship\nwith those among our fellow-beings who have received of the overflowings\nof the Divine Fountain of goodness and truth. But when we reverently\napproach that Fountain, we receive immediately, with a power and fulness\nthat can descend upon us through no human being.\n\nWhat we receive through other mediums reaches only the lower and more\nexternal planes of our being; but prayer brings us, if we pray aright,\nbefore the throne of the Most High, and opens those inmost chambers of\nthe soul that remain for ever closed and empty unless they are opened\nand filled by the immediate presence of the Lord. These constitute that\nHoly of Holies which is the inmost of every human soul. The world at\nlarge may enter its outer courts, chosen friends may minister before the\naltar of its sanctuary, but within all this there is a holier place,\nwhich none but the Lord can enter; for it is the seat of the vital\nprinciple of the soul, which can be touched and quickened by no hand but\nhis.\n\nThe quality of the life of the whole being depends upon the degree in\nwhich we suffer the Lord to dwell within our souls. His Companionship\nfills and vivifies everything that is below it. The more entirely we\nwalk with the Lord, the more constant we shall be in the performance of\nall our duties. The more entirely we open our hearts to his influence,\nthe more benefit we shall receive from all other influences. The more\nreverently we listen to the truth that comes directly from him, the more\ncapable we shall be of finding out and appreciating the truth that comes\nindirectly. The more we open our hearts to receive his love, the more\nperfect will be the love we shall bear towards our fellow-beings. The\nmore constantly we feel that we are in his presence, the more perfect\nwill be the hourly outgoings of our lives.\n\nIntimate Companionship with the Lord does not abstract us from the world\naround us, but fills that world with new meanings. There is nothing\nabstract in the nature of the Deity. He is operating perpetually upon\nall nature. Gravity, organic life, instinct, human thought and\naffection, are forms of his influx manifesting itself in varying\nrelations. Wherever he comes there is life, and his activity knows no\nend.\n\nLet no human being think that he holds Companionship with the Lord,\nbecause he loves to retire apart, to pray, or to contemplate the divine\nattributes, if, at such times, he looks down upon, and shuns the haunts\nof men. The bigot may do so; and all his thoughts about things holy, all\nhis prayers, only confirm him in his spiritual pride. Every thought of\nself-elevation, every feeling that tends towards \"I am holier than\nthou,\" smothers the breath of all true prayer, and associates us with\nthe spirit of evil; for our prayers cannot be blessed to us if pride\ninspire them. Neither let any one suppose himself spiritual because\nmaterial life or material duties oppress him. God made the material\nworld as a school for his children; and he will not keep us here a\nmoment after we are prepared for a higher state. We are putting\nourselves back when we work impatiently, in the feeling that the duties\nof life are beneath us.\n\nIf we would abide with our Heavenly Father, we must cooperate with him\nperpetually. It is doing his will, not contemplating it, that teaches us\nhis attributes, and builds us up in his image and likeness. His fields\nare ever white unto the harvest; let us work while it is yet day, ever\nbearing in mind that he gives us the power to work, and that we can work\nrightly only so long as we live in the constant acknowledgment of our\ndependence upon Him.\n\n\nTHE END.","title":"The elements of character","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":54969}