But wisdom will hear the matter out, and often, by keenness of perception,

Will find in strange disguise the precious truth he seeketh;

So he leaveth unto prejudice or taste the garb and the manner of her presence,

Content to see so nigh the mistress of his love.

There is no similitude in nature that owneth not also to a difference,

Yea, no two berries are alike, though twins upon one

stem;

No drop in the ocean, no pebble on the beach, no leaf in the forest, hath its counterpart,

No mind in its dwelling of mortality, no spirit in the world unseen :

And therefore, since capacity and essence differ alike with accident,

None but a bigot partizan will hope for impossible unity. Wilt thou ensue peace, nor buffet with the waters of contention,

Wilt thou be counted wise and gain the love of men,
Let unobtruding error escape the frown of censure,
Nor lift the glass of truth alway before thy fellows:
I say not, comprise the right, I would not have thee
countenance the wrong,

But hear with charitable heart the reasons of an honest judgment;

For thou also hast erred, and knowest not when thou art most right,

Nor whether to-morrow's wisdom may not prove thee simple to-day:

Perchance thou art chiding in an other what once thou wast thyself;

Perchance thou sharply reprovest what thou wilt be hereafter.

A man that can render a reason, is a man worthy of an

answer;

But he that argueth for victory, deserveth not the tenderness of Truth.

Whiles a man liveth he may mend: count not thy bre ther reprobate;

When he is dead his chance is gone: remember not his faults in bitterness.

A man, till he dieth, is immortal in thy sight; and then he is as nothing:

Make not the living thy foe, nor take weak vengeance of the dead;

For life is as a game of chess, where least causeth greatest,

And an ill move bringeth loss, and a pawn may ensure victory.

Dost thou suspect? seek out certainty: for now, by selfinflicted pain,

Or ill-directed wrath, thou wrongest thyself or thy neighbor:

Suspicion is an early lesson, taught in the school of experience,

Neither shalt thou easily unlearn it, though charity ply thee with her preaching;

Yet look thou well for reasons, or ever mistrust hath marred thee,

Or fear curdled thy blood, or jealousy goaded thee to madness;

For a look, or a word, or an act, may be taken well or ill

As construed by the latitude of love, or the closeness of cold suspicion.

Better is the wrong with sincerity, rather than the right with falsehood:

And a prudent man will not lay siege to the strong hold of ignorant bigotry.

To unsettle a weak mind were an easy inglorious. triumph,

And a strong cause taketh little count of the worthless suffrage of a fool :

Lightly he held to the wrong, loosely will he cling to right;

Weakness is the essence of his mind, and the reed cannot yield an acorn.

Dogged obstinacy is oftentimes the buttress that proppeth an unstable spirit,

But a candid man blusheth not to own, he is wiser to-day than yesterday.

A man of a little wisdom is a sage among fools; But himself is chief among the fools, if he look for admiration from them.

A heresy is an evil thing, for its shame is its pride: Its necessary difference of error is the character it most esteemeth:

Give a man all things short of liberty, thou shalt have no thanks,

And little wilt thou speed with thine opponent, by proving points he will concede.

The tost sand darkeneth the waves; and clear had been the pages of truth,

Had not the glosses of men obscured the simplicity of faith.

In all things consider thine own ignorance, and gladly take occasion to be taught:

But suffer not excess of liberality to neutralize thy mental independence.

The faults and follies of most men make their deaths a

gain;

But thou also art a man, full of faults and follies : Therefore sorrow for the dead, or none shall weep for

thee,

For the measure of charity thou dealest, shall be poured into thine own bosom.

That which vexeth thee now, provoking thee to hate thy brother,

Bear with it; the annoyance passeth, and may not return for ever:

The same combinations and results which aggravate thy soul to-day,

May not meet again for centuries in the kaleidoscope of circumstance:

For men and matters change, new elements mixing in continually,

And, as with chemical magic, the sour is transmuted into sweetness:

A little explained, a little endured, a little passed over as a foible,

And, lo, the jagged atoms fit like smooth mosaic.

Thou canst not shape another's mind to suit thine own body,

Think not, then, to be furnishing his brain with thy special notions.

Charity walketh with a high step, and stubbleth not at a trifle:

Charity hath keen eyes, but the lashes half conceal them:

Charity is praised of all, and fear not thou that praise, God will not love thee less, because men love thee

more.

of Surrom.

safe, I will seek out sorrow, and minister the balm of pity,

So I sought her in the house of mourning; but peace followed in her train.

Then I marked her brooding silently in the gloomy cavern of Regret ;

But a sunbeam of heavenly hope gleamed on her folded wing.

So I turned to the cabin of the poor, where famine dwelt with disease;

But the bed of the sick was smoothed, and the ploughman whistled at his labor.

So I stopt, and mused within myself, to remember where sorrow dwelt,

For I sought to see her alone, uncomforted, uncompanioned.

I went to the prison, but penitence was there, and promise of better times;

I listened at the madman's cell, but it echoed with deluded laughter.

Then I turned me to the rich and noble; I noted the sons of fashion :

A smile was on the languid cheek, that had no commerce with the heart;

Unhallowed thoughts, like fires, gleamed from the window of the eye,

And sorrow lived with those whose pleasures add unto their sins.

Dis infancy wanted not guilt; his life was continued

evil:

He drew in pride with his mother's milk, and a father's lips taught him cursing.

I marked him as the wayward boy; I traced the dissolute youth;

I saw him betray the innocent, and sacrifice affection to

his lust.

I saw him the companion of knaves, and a squanderer of ill-got gain,

I heard him curse his own misery, while he hugged the chains that galled him;

For well had experience declared the bitterness of guilty pleasure,

But habit, with its iron net, involved him in its folds. Behind him lowered the thunder-storm, which the caldron of his wickedness hath brewed;

Before him was the smooth steep cliff, whose base is ruin and despair.

So he rushed madly on, and tried to forget his being : The noisy revel and the low debauch, and fierce excitement of play,