A PSALM OF LIFE.

XXII. HAPPINESS AND DUTY.

279

"THE Connexion between error and misery, between truth and happiness becomes gradually more apparent as our inquiries proceed, and produces at last a complete conviction that, even in those cases where we are unable to trace it, the connexion subsists. He who feels this as he ought, will consider a stedfast adherence to the truth as an expression of benevolence to man, and of confidence in the righteous administration of the universe, and will suspect the purity of those motives which would lead him to advance the good of his species, or the glory of his Maker by deceit and hypocrisy.”—Dugald Stewart.

TRUE Happiness hath no localities,
No tones provincial, no peculiar garb,
Where duty goes, she' goes; with justice goes;
And goes with meekness, charity, and love,
Where'er a tear is dried; a wounded heart
Bound up; a bruised spirit with the dew
Of sympathy anointed; or a pang
Of honest suffering soothed; or injury
Repeated oft, as oft by love forgiven :2
Where'er an evil passion is subdued,
Or virtue's feeble embers found; where'er
A sin is heartily abjured and left-
There is a high and holy place, a spot
Of sacred light, a most religious fane,
Where Happiness, descending, sits and smiles.

1. On what principle is she used here in preference to it?

2. For the illustration of this read Matt. xviii. 21 and 22.

.2

POLLOCK.

3. Paraphrase in writing the whole of this extract.

XXIII. A PSALM OF LIFE.

WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN SAID TO THE PSALMIST.

"IN this world, God only and the angels may be spectators."Bacon.

"Whatever you do, do thoroughly; never divide your forces, as poor silly Argus did, and lock one half of them up in sleep, while the other half are to watch at their post; let the whole man be seen in every action of your life; do it with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and tell me not that I am profaning sacred words. If you were duly conscious of God's omnipresence, you would not make so frivolous an objection. But are we, then, to do evil with all our heart, and with all our soul, and with all our mind? It is impossible. Were there no half-doers there would be no evil-doers. It is the want of unity in our nature that causes the want of integrity in our conduct. The father of evil has outwitted us; he was crafty enough to anticipate the arch maxim of our state-craft; he divided us, and thereby made us slaves."— Guesses at Truth, by Two Brothers.

TELL me not, in mournful numbers,
"Life is but an empty dream!"
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
"Dust thou art, to dust returnest
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,

"

And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,-act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

THOUGHT AND DEED.

Footprints, that perhaps another,

Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labour and to wait.

281

LONGFELLOW.

XXIV. THOUGHT AND DEED.

"EVERY mortal can, and shall, himself be a true man! it is a great thing, and the parent of great things,-as from a single acorn the whole earth might in the end be peopled with oaks: every mortal can do something this let him faithfully do, and leave with a sure heart the issue to a higher power!"-Carlyle.

FULL many a light thought man may cherish,

Full many an idle deed may do ;

Yet not a thought or deed shall perish,
Not one, but he shall bless or rue.

When by the wind the tree is shaken,
There's not a bough or leaf can fall,
But of its falling heed is taken

By ONE that sees and governs all.
The tree may fall and be forgotten,
And buried in the earth remain ;
Yet from its juices rank and rotten,
Springs vegetating life again.
The world is with creation teeming,
And nothing ever wholly dies;
And things that are destroyed in seeming,
In other shapes and forms arise.

And nature still unfolds the tissue,

Of unseen works by spirit wrought;
And not a work but hath its issue,

With blessing or with evil fraught.

Though thou may'st seem to leave behind thee,
All memory of the sinful past;

Yet, oh, be sure, thy sin shall find thee,

And thou shalt know its fruit at last.

C. R. KENNEDY.

XXV. THE WINTER STORM.

EVERY condition, be it what it may, has hardships, hazards, pains. We try to escape them; we pine for a sheltered lot, for a smooth path, for cheering friends, and unbroken success. But Providence ordains storms, disasters, hostilities, sufferings; and the great question, whether we shall live to any purpose or not, whether we shall grow strong in mind and heart, or be weak and pitiable, depends on nothing so much as on our use of these adverse circumstances. Outward evils are designed to school our passions, and to rouse our faculties and virtues into intenser action. Sometimes they seem to create new powers. Difficulty is the element, and resistance the true work of man. Self-culture never goes on so fast as when embarrassed circumstances, the opposition of men or the elements, unexpected changes of the times, or other forms of suffering, instead of disheartening, throw us on our inward resources, turn us for strength to God, clear up to us the great purpose of life, and inspire calm resolution. No greatness or goodness is worth much, unless tried in these fires."- Channing. Derivations.

THE wintry west extends his blast,

And hail and rain does blaw;

Or the stormy north sends driving forth
The blinding sleet and snaw:

While, tumbling brown, the burn comes down,

And roars frae bank to brae;
And bird and beast in covert rest,

And pass the heartless day.

The sweeping blast, the sky o'ercast,
The joyless winter day,

Let others fear, to me more dear

Than all the pride of May:

The tempest's howl, it soothes my soul,

My griefs it seems to join;

The leafless trees my fancy please,

Their fate resembles mine!

Thou Pow'r Supreme, whose mighty scheme

These woes of mine fulfil ;

Here firm I rest, they must be best,

Because they are Thy will!

THE POWER OF GOD.

Then all I want (oh! do Thou grant

This one request of mine!)

Since to enjoy Thou dost deny,

Assist me to resign.

283

BURNS.

XXVI. THE POWER OF GOD.

Who

"Wпo but a Spirit of unbounded intelligence and power could have formed this superb vault which we see above us? Who could have given these immense globes their motion, that perpetual motion, the velocity of which is inexpressible; a motion which the smallest grain of sand could not have of itself? Who has commanded these enormous masses of sluggish and inactive matter to assume so many different forms? Whence came those connexions, that beauty and harmony, which shine forth in every part of the great whole? has determined these things so exactly in number, weight, and measure? Who has prescribed to these immense bodies the laws which could not be discovered but by the most sublime genius? Who has measured those vast orbits in which the planets move, without ever departing a hair's breadth from their track? Who has introduced them into that course through which they are to run without interruption? All these questions lead us to thee, thou adorable Creator! Thou self-existing, independent, and infinite Being! it is to thee that these heavenly bodies owe their existence; their laws, their arrangement, their power, and all those advantages which they procure to the earth proceed from thee."--Sturm.

THOU art, O God, the life and light

Of all this wondrous world we see ;
Its glow by day, its smile by night,
Are but reflections caught from Thee!
Where'er we turn, thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are Thine.
When day with farewell beam delays
Among the opening clouds of even,
And we can almost think we gaze
Through golden vistas into heaven,
Those hues that mark the sun's decline,
So soft, so radiant, Lord, are Thine.

When night, with wings of stormy gloom,
O'ershadows all the earth and skies,
Like some dark beauteous bird, whose plume
Is sparkling with a thousand eyes,
That sacred gloom, those fires divine,
So grand, so countless, Lord, are Thine.