The sum of certainties is found so small, their field so wide a uni

verse,

That many things may truly be, which man hath not conceived: The characters revealed of God are a strong mind's sole assurance That any strangeness may not stand a sober theme for faith. Ignorance being light denied, this ought to show the stronger in its view,

But ignorance is commonly a double negative, both of light and morals:

So, adding vanity to blindness, for ease it taketh refuge in a doubt, And aching soon with ceaseless doubt, it finisheth the strife by misbelieving.

FAITH, by its very nature, shall embrace both credence and obedience:

Yea, the word for both is one, and cannot be divided. (50)

For, work void of faith, wherein can it be counted for a duty? And faith not seen in work, whereby can the doctrine be dis

covered?

Faith in religion is an instrument; a handle, and the hand to

turn it;

Less a condition than a mean, and more an operation than a virtue. A moral sickness, like to sin, must have a moral cure;

And faith alone can heal the mind, whose malady is sense.

Ye are told of God's deep love; they that believe will love him;
They that love him will obey; and obedience hath its blessing.
Ye are taught of the soul's great price; they that believe will
prize it,

And, prizing soul, will cherish well the hopes that make it happy.
Effects spring from feelings; and feelings grow of faith:

If a man conceive himself insulted, will not his anger smite?
Thus, let a soul believe his state, his danger, destiny, redemption,
Will he not feel eager to be safe, like him that kept the prison at
Philippi?

A MOTHER had an only son, and sent him out to sea:

She was a widow, and in penury; and he must seek his fortunes. How often in the wintry nights, when waves and winds were howling,

Her heart was torn with sickening dread, and bled to see her boy! And on one sunny morn, when all around was comfort,

News came, that, weeks agone, the vessel had been wrecked; Yea, wrecked, and he was dead! they had seen him perish in his agony:

-

O then, what agony was like to hers, for she believed the tale! She was bowed and broken down with sorrow, and uncomforted in

prayer;

Many nights she mourned, and pined, and had no hope but death. But on a day, while sorely she was weeping, a stranger broke upon her loneliness,

He had news to tell, that weather-beaten man, and must not be

denied:

And what were the wonder-working words that made this mourner joyous,

That swept her heaviness away, and filled her world with praise ? Her son was saved, is alive, is near!-O, did she stop to

question?

No, rushing in the force of faith, she met him at the door!

And there is no wisdom but in piety;-so the dead man preacheth; For, in a simple village church, among those classic shades

Which sylvan Evelyn loved to rear, (his praise and my delight,) These, the words of truth, are writ upon his sepulchre,

Who learned much lore, and knew all trees from the cedar to the hyssop on the wall.

A just conjunction, godliness and honesty, ministering to both worlds,

Well wed, and ill to be divided, a pair that God hath joined to

gether.

I touch not now the vulgar thought, as of tricks and cheateries in

trade;

I speak of honest purpose, character, speech, and action;

For an honest man hath special need of charity, and prudence, Of a deep and humbling self-acquaintance, and of blessed commerce with his God,

So that the keennesses of truth may be freed from asperities of

censure,

And the just but vacillating mind be not made the pendulum of

arguments;

For a false reason, shrewdly put, can often not be answered on the instant,

And prudence looketh unto faith, content to wait solutions:
Yea, it looketh, yea, it waiteth, still holding honesty in leash,
Lest, as a hot young hound, it track not game, but vermin.
Many a man of honest heart, but ignorant of self and God,
Hath followed the marsh-fires of pestilence, esteeming them the
lights of truth:

He heard a cause, which he had not skill to solve, and so received it gladly,

And that cause brought its consequence, of harm to an unstable

soul.

Prudence, for a man's own sake, never should be separate from

honesty ;

And charity, for others' good and his, must still be joined there

with.

For the harshly chiding tongue hath neither pleasuring nor profit, And the cold, unsympathizing heart never gained a good.

Sin is a sore, and folly is a fever; touch them tenderly for healing:

་

The bad chirurgeon's awkward knife harmeth, spite of honesty.
Still, a rough diamond is better than the polished paste, —
That courteous, flattering fool, who spake of vice as virtue;
And honesty, even by itself, though making many adversaries
Whom prudence might have set aside, or charity have softened,
Evermore will prosper at the last, and gain a man great honor
By giving others many goods, to his own cost and hinderance.

FREEDOM is father of the honest, and sturdy Independence is his brother;

These three, with heart and hand, dwell together in unity.

The blunt yeoman, stout and true, will speak unto princes una

bashed;

His mind is loyal, just, and free, a crystal in its plain integrity;

What should make such a one ashamed? where courtiers kneel,

I will indeed bow before the king, but knees were knit for God. And many such there be, of a high and noble conscience, Honorable, generous, and kind, though blessed with little light: What should he barter for his freedom? some petty gain of gold? Free of speech, and free in act, magnates honor him for boldness; Long may he flourish in his peace, and a stalwart race around him, Rooted in the soil like oaks, and hardy as the pine upon the mountains!

YET, there be others, that will truckle to a lie, selling honesty for interest:

And do they gain? — they gain but loss; a little cash, with scorn. Behold the sorrowful change wrought upon a fallen nature :

He hath lost his own esteem, and other men's respect:

For the buoyancy of upright faith, he is clothed in the heaviness of

cringing;

For plain truth, where none could err, he hath chosen tortuous

paths;

In lieu of his majesty of countenance,

servility;

the timorous glances of

Instead of Freedom's honest pride, — the spirit of a slave.

NEVERTHELESS, there is somewhat to be pleaded, even for a necessary guile,

Whilst the world, and all that is therein, lieth deep in evil.

Who can be altogether honest, -a champion never out of mail,
Ready to break a lance for truth with every crowding error?
Who can be altogether honest, — dragging out the secrecies of life,
And risking to be lashed and loathed for each unkind disclosure?
Who can be altogether honest,-living in perpetual contentions,
And prying out the petty cheats that swell the social scheme?
For he must speak his instant mind, -
-a mind corrupt and sinful,
Exhibiting to other men's disgust its undisguised deformities;
He must utter all the hatred of his heart, and add to it the venom
of his tongue;

Shall he feel, and hide his feelings? that were the meanness of a

Still, O man, such hypocrisy is better than this bold honesty to

sin:

Kill the feeling, or conceal it: let shame at least do the work

of charity.

O CHARITY, thou livest not in warnings, meddling among men,
Rebuking every foolish word, and censuring small sins;

This is not thy secret, rather wilt thou hide their multitude,
And silence the condemning tongue, and wearisome exhortation.
But for thee, thy strength and zeal shine in encouragement to
good,

Lifting up the lantern of ensample, that wanderers may find the

way:

That lantern is not lit to gaze on all the hatefulness of evil,
But set on high for life and light, the loveliness of good.

The hard, censorious mind sitteth as a keen anatomist,

Tracking up the fibres in corruption, and prying on a fearful corpse:
But the charitable soul is a young lover, enamored little wisely,
That saw no fault in her he loved, and sought to see one less,
So, in his kind and genial light, she grew more worthy of his love;
Won to good by gentle suns, and not by frowning tempest.

VERILY, infirm thyself,

be slow to chide a brother's imperfections;

For many times the decent veil must hang on faults of nature,
And the rude hands, that rend it, offend against the modesty of

right,

While seeming zeal, and its effort to do good, is only feigned self

praise;

Often will the meannesses of life, hidden away in corners,

Prove wisdom; and the generous is glad to leave them unregarded in the shade.

The follies none are found to praise, let them die unblamed;
Thine honest strife will only tend to make some think them wise;
And small conventional deceits, let them live uncensured;
Or, if thou war with pygmies, thou shalt haply help the cranes.
Where to be blind was safety, Ovid had been wise for winking; (51)
And when a telltale might do harm, be sure it is prudent to be
dumb:

That which is just and fit is often found combating with honesty :
In the cause of good, be wise; and in a case indifferent, keep silence.

LET honesty's unblushing face be shaded by the mantle of humility, So shall it shine a lamp of love, and not the torch of strife: