And he held many lines in his hand, and they called him Iron Destiny.
So I tracked these subtle chains, and each held one among the multitude.
Then I understood what hindered, that they rested not in their path:
For the fisher had sport in his fishing, and drew in his lines continually,
And the new-born babe, and the aged man, were dragged into that dark
And he pulled all those myriads along, and none might rest by the way, Till many, for sheer weariness, were eager to plunge into the drowning
So I knew that valley was Life, and it sloped to the waters of Death.
But far on the thither side spread out a calm and silent shore,
Where all was tranquil as a sleep, and the crowded strand was quiet:
And I saw there many I had known, but their eyes glared chillingly
As set in deepest slumber; and they pressed their fingers to their lips. Then I knew that shore was the dwelling of Rest, where spirits held
their sabbath, And it seemed they would have told me much, but they might not break For the law of their being was mystery: they glided on, hushing as they Yet farther, under the sun, at the roots of purple mountains, I noted a blaze of glory, as the night-fires on northern skies; And I heard the hum of joy, as it were a sea of melody;
And far as the eye could reach were millions of happy creatures
Basking in the golden light; and I knew that land was heaven.
Then the hill whereon I stood split asunder, and a crater yawned at my
Black and deep and dreadful, fenced round with ragged rocks;
Dimly was the darkness lit up by spires of distant flame;
And I saw below a moving mass of life, like reptiles bred in corruption, Where all was terrible unrest, shrieks and groans and thunder.
So I woke, and I thought upon my dream; for it seemed of wisdom's ministration.
What man is he that findeth rest, though he hunt for it year after year? As a child, he had not yet been wearied, and cared not then to court it; As a youth, he loved not to be quiet, for excitement spurred him into strife; As a man, he tracketh rest in vain, toiling painfully to catch it, [fate. But still is he pulled from the pursuit, by the strong compulsion of his So he hopeth to have peace in old age, as he cannot rest in manhood,
But troubles thicken with his years, till Death hath dodged him to the grave.
There remaineth a rest for the spirit on the shadowy side of life;
But unto this world's pilgrim no rest for the sole of his foot.
Ever, from stage to stage, he travelleth wearily forward,
And though he pluck flowers by the way, he may not sleep among the
Mind is the perpetual motion; for it is a running stream
From an unfathomable source, the depth of the divine Intelligence;
And though it be stopped in its flowing, yet hath it a current within;
The surface may sleep unruffled, but underneath are whirlpools of con-
Seekest thou rest, O mortal?-seek it no more on earth, [tention.
For destiny will not cease from dragging thee through the rough wilder. ness of life;
Seekest thou rest, O immortal?-hope not to find it in heaven,
For sloth yieldeth not happiness; the bliss of a spirit is action.
Rest dwelleth only on an island in the midst of the ocean of existence,
Where the world-weary soul for a while may fold its tired wings,
Until, after short sufficient slumber, it is quickened unto deathless energy,
And speedeth in eagle flight to the Sun of unapproachable perfection.
VICE is grown aweary of her gawds, and donneth russet garments,
Loving for change to walk as a nun, beneath a modest veil;
For Pride hath noted how all admire the fairness of Humility,
And to clutch the praise he coveteth, is content to be dressed in hair-cloth; And wily Lust tempteth the young heart, that is proof against the bravery of harlots,
With timid tears and retiring looks of an artless seeming maid;
And indolent Apathy, sleepily ashamed of his dull, lack-lustre face,
Is glad of the livery of meekness, that charitable cloak and cowl;
And Hatred hideth his demon frown beneath a gentle mask; [ination.
And Slander, snake-like, creepeth in the dust, thinking to escape recrim-
But the world hath gained somewhat from its years, and is quick to
Neither in all these is it easily deceived, but rightly divideth the true from the false.
YET there is a meanness of spirit that is fair in the eyes of most men,
Yea, and seemeth fair unto itself, loving to be thought Humility.
Its choler is not roused by insolence, neither do injuries disturb it;
Honest indignation is strange unto its breast, and just reproof unto its lip.
It shrinketh, looking fearfully on men, fawning at the feet of the great;
The breath of calumny is sweet unto its ear, and it courteth the rod of
But what! art thou not a man, deputed chief of the creation? [persecution.
Art thou not a soldier of the right, militant for God and good? [them,
Shall virtue and truth be degraded, because thou art too base to uphold
Or Goliath be bolder in blaspheming for want of a David in the camp?
I say not avenge injuries; for the ministry of vengeance is not thine;
But wherefore rebuke not a liar? wherefore do dishonour to thyself?
Wherefore let the evil triumph, when the just and the right are on thy
Such Humility is abject, it lacketh the life of sensibility,
And that resignation is but mock, where the burden is not felt;
Suspect thyself and thy meekness; thou art mean and indifferent to sin;
And the heart that should grieve and forgive is case-hardened, and for-
HUMILITY mainly becometh the converse of man with his Maker,
But often-times it seemeth out of place in the intercourse of man with man:
Yea, it is the cringer to his equal, that is chiefly seen bold to his God,
While a martyr, whom a world cannot browbeat, is humble as a child
before Him.
Render unto all men their due, but remember thou also art a man, [being.
And cheat not thyself of the reverence which is owing to thy reasonable
Be courteous, and listen, and learn; but teach and answer if thou canst:
Serve thee of thy neighbour's wisdom, but be not enslaved as to a master.
Where thou perceivest knowledge, bend the ear of attention and respect;
But yield not further to the teaching, than as thy mind is warranted by
Better is an obstinate disputant, that yieldeth inch by inch, [reasons,
Than the shallow traitor to himself, who surrendereth to half an argument.
MODESTY Winneth good report, but scorn cometh close upon servility; Therefore use meekness with discretion, casting not pearls before swine, For a fool will tread upon thy neck, if he seeth thee lying in the dust; And there be companies and seasons where resolute bearing is but duty. If a good man discloseth his secret failings unto the view of the profane, What doeth he but harm unto his brother, confirming him in his sin? There is a concealment that is right, and an open-mouthed humility that erreth:
There is a candour near akin to folly, and a meekness looking like shame. Masculine sentiments, vigorously holden, well become a man;
But a weak mind hath a timorous grasp, and mistaketh it for tenderness of conscience.
Many are despised for their folly, who put it to the account of their religion, And because men treat them with contempt, they look to their God for
But contempt shall still be their reward, who betrayed their master unto Reflecting on Him in themselves, meanness and ignorance and cowardice. A Christian hath a royal spirit, and need not be ashamed but unto One. Among just men walketh he softly, but the world should see him as a champion.
[weak, His humbleness is far unlike the shame that covereth the profligate and When the sober reproof of virtue hath touched their tingling ears; It is born of love and wisdom, and is worthy of all honour, And the sweet persuasion of its smile changeth contempt into reverence.
A MAN of a haughty spirit is daily adding to his enemies: [him:
He standeth as the Arab in the desert, and the hands of all men are against
A man of a base mind daily subtracteth from his friends,
For he holdeth himself so cheaply, that others learn to despise him.
But where the meekness of self-knowledge veileth the front of self-respect,
There look thou for the man, whom none can know but they will honour.
Humility is the softening shadow before the stature of Excellence,
And lieth lowly on the ground, beloved and lovely as the violet;
Humility is the fair-haired maid, that calleth Worth her brother,
The gentle, silent nurse, that fostereth infant virtues;
Humility bringeth no excuse; she is welcome to God and man;
Her countenance is needful unto all who would prosper in either world;
And the mild light of her sweet face is mirrored in the eyes of her com-
And straightway stand they accepted, children of penitence and love. As when the blind man is nigh unto a rose, its sweetness is the herald
So when thou savourest humility, be sure thou art nigh unto merit.
A gift rejoiceth the covetous, and praise fatteneth the vain,
And the pride of man delighteth in the humble bearing of his fellow;
But to the tender benevolence of the unthanked Almoner of good,
Humility is queen among the graces, for she giveth Him occasion to bestow.
DEEP is the sea, and deep is hell, but Pride mineth deeper;
It is coiled as a poisonous worm about the foundations of the soul.
If thou expose it in thy motives, and track it in thy springs of thought,
Complacent in its own detection, it will seem indignant virtue;
Smoothly will it gratulate thy skill, O subtle anatomist of self,
And spurn at its very being, while it nestleth the deeper in thy bosom.
Pride is a double traitor, and betrayeth itself to entrap thee,
Making thee vain of thy self-knowledge; proud of thy discoveries of pride.
Fruitlessly thou strainest for humility by darkly diving into self;
Rather look away from innate evil, and gaze upon extraneous good!
For in sounding the deep things of the heart, thou shalt learn to be vain
of its capacities,
But in viewing the heights above thee, thou shalt be taught thy littleness:
Could an emmet pry into itself, it might marvel at its own anatomy;
But let it look on eagles to discern how mean a thing it is.
And all things hang upon comparison; to the greater, great is small.
Neither is there any thing so vile, but somewhat yet is viler:
On all sides is there an infinity: the culprit at the gallows hath his worse,
And the virgin martyr at the stake need not look for a better.
Therefore see thou that thine aim reacheth unto higher than thyself:
Beware that the standard of thy soul wave from the loftiest battlement:
For pride is a pestilent meteor, flitting on the marshes of corruption,
That will lure thee forward to thy death, if thou seek to track it to its
Pride is a gloomy bow, arching the infernal firmament, [source;
That will lead thee on, if thou wilt hunt it, even to the dwelling of despair.
Deep calleth unto deep, and mountain overtoppeth mountain,
And still shalt thou fathom to no end the depth and the height of pride:
For it is the vast ambition of the soul warped to an idol object,
And nothing but a Deity in Self can quench its insatiable thirst.
Be aware of the smiling enemy, that openly sheatheth his weapon,
But mingleth poison in secret with the sacred salt of hospitality:
For pride will lie dormant in thy heart to snatch its secret opportunity,
Watching, as a lion-ant, in the bottom of its toils.
Stay not to parley with thy foe, his tongue is more potent than his arm,
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