THE GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS.

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in the bodily constitution, or some accidental disorder in the animal frame. It comes on in a dark month, a thick sky, and an east wind. Constant employment and a cheerful friend are two excellent remedies. Certain, however, it is, that, whatever means can be devised, they should instantly and incessantly be used to drive away such dreary and desponding imaginations.

8. It is needless to say that we should repel all impure thoughts; because, if we possess a fair character, and frequent 81 good company, it is to be hoped they will not have the assurance to knock at our door. Lastly - with abhorrence reject immediately all profane and blas'phemous thoughts. When the body is disordered, the mind will be so too; and thoughts will arise in it of which no account can be given. But let those who are thus afflicted know, for their comfort, the bare thoughts will not be imputed to them for sins, while they do not cherish and encourage them, but, on the contrary, exert all their endeavors to expel and banish them; which, with prayers and help from above, will not fail of success in the end.

9. These, then, are the thoughts against which you should carefully guard: such as are peevish and discontented, anxious and fearful, passionate and quarrelsome, silly and trifling, vain and fantastical, gloomy and melancholy, impure, profane, and blasphemous. A formidable band! to whose importunity, more or less, every one is subject. Reason, aided by the grace of God, must watch diligently at the gate, either to bar their entrance, or drive them away forthwith when entered, not only as impertinent, but mis'chievous intruders, that will otherwise forever destroy the peace and quiet of the family.

10. The best method, after all, perhaps, is to contrive matters so as always to be preëngaged when they come; engaged with better company; and then there will be no room for them. For, other kinds of thoughts there are, to which, when they stand at the door and knock, the pōrter should open immediately; which you should let in and receive, retain and improve, to your soul's health and happiness.

in

11. The grand secret in this, as in many other cases, is employment. An empty house is every body's property. All the vagrants about the country will take up their quarters in it. Always, therefore, have something to do, and you will always have something to think about. God has placed every person some station; and every station has a set of dūties belonging to it. Did we not forget or neglect these, evil thoughts would sue for admission in vain. Indeed, they would not come near our dwelling, any more than idle, vain, profligate people would think of visiting and teasing a man who labored constantly for his daily bread.

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12. And let no one imagine, as too many are apt to do, that it is a matter of indifference what thoughts he entertains in his heart, since the reason of things concurs with the testimony of Scripture to assure us that "the thought of foolishness," when allowed by us, "is itself sin." Therefore, in the excellent words of an excellent poet,

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"Guard well thy thoughts- our thoughts are heard in heaven."

Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of it are the issues of life." HORNE (ABRIDGED).

XXXI. SELECT PASSAGES IN VERSE.

1.- ULYSSES' 141 DOG.

Anon.

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WHEN wise Ulysses, from his native coast
Long kept by wars, and long by tempests tost,
Arrived at last, poor, old, disguised, alone,1
To all his friends, and even his queen, unknown';
Changed as he was with age, and toils, and cares,
Furrowed his reverend face, and white his hairs';
In his own palace forced to ask his bread',
Scorned by those slaves his former bounty fed',
Forgot of all his own domestic crew' ;
The faithful dog alone his master knew':—
Unfed, unhoused, neglected, on the clay,
Like an old servant, now cashiered, he lay :
And, though even then expiring on the plain,
Touched with resentment of ungrateful man,
And longing to behold his ancient lord again
Him when he saw, he rose, and crawled to meet, -
'Twas all he could, and fawned, and licked his feet,
Seized with dumb joy; then, falling by his side,
Owned his returning lord, looked up, and died.

Horatio, of i-de'al courage vain,

Was flourishing in air his father's cane;
And, as the fumes of valor swelled his pate,
Now thought himself this hero, and now that;
"And now," he cried, "I will Achilles EI be;
My sword I brandish; see the Trojans flee!
Now I'll be Hector, when his
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angry blade

A lane through heaps of slaughtered Grecians made!
And now, by deeds still braver, I'll evince

I am no less than Edward EI the Black Prince.

Give way, ye coward French!" As thus he spoke,
And aimed in fancy a sufficient stroke

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SELECT PASSAGES IN VERSE.

To fix the fate of Cressy or Poictiers EI
(The Muse relates the hero's fate with tears 165)
He struck his milk-white hand against a nail,
Saw his own blood, and felt his courage fail.
Ah! where is now that boasted valor flown,
That in the tented field so late was shown?
Achilles weeps, great Hector hangs his head,
And the Black Prince goes whimpering to bed.

3. — BEAUTY. — Gay.

What is the blooming tincture of the skin
Το peace of mind and harmony within?
What the bright sparkling of the finest eye
To the soft soothing of a calm reply?
Can comeliness of form, or shape, or air,
With comeliness of words or deeds compare?
No! those 118 at first the unwary heart may gain,
But these, these only, can 156 the heart retain.

4. THE PLEASURES OF MEMORY. - Rogers.
Hail, Memory, hail! In thy exhaustless mine,
From age to age, unnumbered treasures shine!
Thought, and her shadowy brood, thy call obey,
And Place and Time are subject to thy sway!
Thy pleasures most we feel when most alone
The only pleasures we can call our own.
Lighter than air, Hope's summer-visions die,
If but a fleeting cloud obscure the sky;
If but a beam of sober Reason play,
Lo! Fancy's fairy frost-work melts away.
But can the wiles of Art, the grasp of Power,
Snatch the rich relics of a well-spent hour?
These, when the trembling spirit wings her flight,
Pour round her path a stream of living light,
And gild those pure and perfect realms of rest,
Where Virtue triumphs, and her sons are blessed.21

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He who ascends to mountain-tops 27 shall find
The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow;
He who surpasses or subdues mankind

Must look down on the hate of those below.
Though high above the sun of glory glow,
And far beneath the earth and ocean spread,
Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow
Contending tempests 100 on his naked head;
And thus reward the toils which to those summits led.

Torture thou mayst, but thou shalt ne'er despise me.
The blood will follow where the knife is driven,
The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear;
And sighs and cries by nature grow on pain:
But these are foreign to the soul: not mine
The groans that issue,95 or the tears that fall
They disobey me. On the rack I scorn thee.

7.- AFFECTIONATE REMEMBRANCE.

;

Wordsworth.

She dwelt among the untrodden ways beside the springs of Dove -
A maid whom there were none to praise, and very few to love:
A violet by a mossy stone, half hidden from the eye!
Fair as a star when only one is shining in the sky.

She lived unknown, and few could know when Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and, O, the difference to me!

XXXII. — ON COMPRESSION IN SPEECH AND WRITING.

1. TALK to the point, and stop when you have reached it. The faculty some possess of making one idea cover a quire of paper is not good for much. Be comprehensive in all you say and write. To fill a volume 95 upon nothing is a credit to nobody. There are men who get one idea 98 into their heads, and but one, and they make the most of it. You can see it, and almost feel it, when in their presence. On all occasions it is produced,

till it is worn as thin as charity.

2. They remind us of a blunderbuss discharged at a hummingbird. You hear a tremendous 96 noise, see a volume of smoke, but you look in vain for the effects. The bird is shattered to atoms. Just so with the idea. It is enveloped in a cloud, and lost amid the rumblings of words and flourishes. Short letters, sermons, speeches, and paragraphs, are favorites with us. Commend us to the young man who wrote to his father, “ Dear sir, I am going to be married ;" and also to the old gentleman, who replied, "Dear son, do it." Such are the men for action;

they do more than they say.

3. Eloquence, we are persuaded, will never flourish in any country where the public taste is in'fantile enough to measure the value of a speech by the hours it occupies, and to exalt copiousness and fertility to the absolute disregard of conciseness. The efficacy and value of compression can scarcely be overrated. The common air we beat aside with our breath, compressed, has

TURNING THE GRINDSTONE.

103

the force of gunpowder, and will rend the solid rock; and so it is with language.

ΕΙ

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4. A gentle stream of persuasiveness may flow through the mind, and leave no sediment: let it come at a blow, as a cataract, and it sweeps all before it. It is by this magnificent compression that Cicero confounds Cat'iline, and Demos'the-nes EI overwhelms Es'chi-nes; by this that Mark Antony, as Shakspeare makes him speak, carries the heart away with a bad cause. The language of strong passion is always terse1 and compressed; genuine conviction uses few words; there is something of artifice and dishonesty in a long speech.

5. No argument is worth using, because none can make a deep impression, that does not bear to be stated in a single sentence. Our marshalling of speeches, essays, and books, according to their length, deeming that a great work which covers a great space, this "inordinate appetite for printed paper," which devours so much and so indiscriminately that it has no leisure for fairly tasting any thing, is pernicious to all kinds of literature, but fatal to oratory. The writer who aims at perfection is forced to dread popularity, and steer wide of it; the orator who must court popularity is forced to renounce the pursuit of genuine and lasting excellence.

XXXIII. - TURNING THE GRINDSTONE.

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1. WHEN I was a little boy, I remember, one cold winter's morning, I was accosted by a smiling" man with an axe on his shoulder. My pretty boy," said he, " has your father a grindstone? "Yes, sir," said I. "You are a fine little fellow," said he ; "will you let me grind my axe on it? Pleased with the compliment of" fine little fellow," "O, yes, sir," I answered. "It is down in the shop.". “And will you, my man," said he, patting me on the head, get me a little hot water?" could I refuse? I ran, and soon brought a kettle full. old are you? and what's your name? continued he, without waiting for a reply; "I am sure you are one of the finest lads that ever I have seen; will you just turn a few minutes for me?"

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How

"How

2. Tickled with the flattery, like a little fool, I went to work, and bitterly did I rue the day. It was a new axe, and I toiled and tugged till I was almost tired to death. The school-bell rang, and I could not get away; my hands were blistered, and the axe was not half ground. At length, however, it was sharp