THE

YOUNG AMERICAN'S MAGAZINE.

JULY, 1847.

DISPOSITION TO KNOW OURSELVES.

BY THE EDITOR.

"Only engage, and then the mind grows heated."

STRANGE as it might seem, that any one should not wish to know himself, there are thousands who are so indifferent to the subject, that, although admitting the necessity and even the practicability of self-acquaintance, they will still ask the question, how a disposition for it can be acquired. I answer, In the same way that anything else of importance must be done by making a business of it. We must set ourselves about the study, without waiting for an inclination to do so. If we wait for it, such an inclination may never come: if we begin the study, with a little perseverance, it will be sure to come, even before we are aware of it. This is so, not only from the general fact that we soon become interested in what we get into the way of contemplating, but from the peculiar nature of the case. Our nature being incomparably superior to that of any other earthly existence, it cannot be that we are incapable of acquiring an interest in self-study, when we can and do feel an interest-excite and cultivate it, too-in so many objects of inferior and even trifling importance.

It is true, that in the study of our moral attributes and in fact all our characteristics, so far as they are influenced by our feelings a formidable difficulty presents itself. In proportion as we have abused our moral nature, the contemplation of it brings nothing but pain. We wish to avoid it, as we do a friend to whom we have been untrue. We wither at the glance of such a friend. “Often we go so far as to use artifices to deceive ourselves, that we may appear to our eyes other than as we are. Sometimes this is to flatter or excuse our inclinations; sometimes to please our self-love and our pride; sometimes from cowardice, sometimes from all these motives together. When the question is to satisfy ambition or presumptuous desires, we wish to suppose ourselves strong. We no longer confess our strength, when there is a difficult duty to fulfil. We exaggerate the qualities in ourselves which appear meritorious. We put out of sight those which, by affording a natural assistance, would diminish the merit of our own efforts. Is it not from this last reason, for instance, that every one accuses himself of want of memory, while no one accuses himself of want of judgment? Selfishness wishes to deck its idol. Sensuality wishes to repose, consequently to justify itself: it even wishes to exalt itself in its own eyes, to think itself less gross than it really is, in order to enjoy still more. We can with dif ficulty confess our faults to other men; and we do not like to confess them to ourselves. Our own censure would touch us more nearly, and pursue us more constantly. Vanity and self-love cannot consent to recognize themselves in the movements they inspire; for in recognizing themselves, they would be humiliated; they would contradict themselves. Since they are only a weakness of character, they must disguise themselves, in order to succeed in preserving that distinguished attitude to which they pretend. Often, while seeking to show ourselves to

other men under the most favorable point of view, in order to obtain their approbation or their good will, we may be so penetrated by the part we play, as to finish by thinking it serious, and to fall into the mistake we have. prepared for others; like an actor who should continue to play the comedy alone on his own account."

It must be admitted that it will be a considerable task to overcome this difficulty. But it can be done. We have only to be resolute in the use of the means with which Providence has furnished us heartily giving ourselves up to the love of truth and duty. It is true that this implies a great deal. But what if it does? Are we to shrink from the right path, because there is a mountain to ascend? No believer in Christianity will deny that the means of our restoration to moral health have been provided for us. In the proper use of these means, we shall find ourselves awakened, as it were, to a new life: the faculties of our souls will be roused from their death-like insensibility, and clothed with the attributes of angelic life and action. Like children of a new world, there will be nothing to prevent our receiving correct impressions of ourselves and of everything else. Being at peace with ourselves, we shall take pleasure in cultivating the closest intimacy with our whole nature; because our affections will be enlisted in the very work for which selfstudy is the peculiar requisite that of self-improvement. It may be proper to add, that every proposed remedy for indifference to the study of ourselves, which does not include the moral change alluded to, will prove in the end to be mere charlatanism. Nothing else will remove the grand cause of the disease: it lies too deep in the soul to be removed by anything short of the spirit of the Almighty, unresisted by us through the abuse of our privileges. After the proper remedy for our moral apathy has been applied, there will yet remain a vast deal for us to do; but

the great difficulty being out of the way, we shall have only to continue to make an earnest business of self-study, in order gradually to excite that interest in our higher nature which will be the secret of final success in the pursuit.

It is not denied that everybody is interested in himself in a certain narrow sense. As a man of the world, he may be ambitious to make as much personal display as possible. He may be interested in gratifying his uneducated propensities. But there is no other way to become interested in himself as the image of God, as a citizen of the universe, capable of endless improvement, and bound to be perfect as his Maker is perfect, but that which has been described. This is the reason why the interest men in general have in themselves, results in little more than fashionable folly, vice, oppression, military glory, and the like.

Let us but once acquire the settled disposition to know ourselves, and we shall soon cease to complain of a lack, either of ability or means. No matter what the difficulties are. No sooner will one obstacle be overcome, than we shall find our strength increased to grapple with another; and finally no difficulty can discourage us. In fact, the solving of mysteries and the overcoming of obstacles, will give the study its principal interest. Our faculties cannot be awakened and thoroughly disciplined, without sometimes being tasked to the utmost. Let us but have a wILL to know ourselves, and not only will the way soon be made plain to us, but we shall find that, although a mountain path, it will conduct us to the most sublime regions, and the most enchanting prospects. There will be wilderness, but also green pastures and still waters, and the songs of the birds of Paradise, to cheer us in our pilgrimage.

THE FOREST TEMPLE.

By D. H. HOWARD.

THE Woodpath seemed a porch
To one of Nature's temples, wide and high,
Where underneath the forest's living arch
Bright blossom-pavements lie.

Green, blooming shrubs around

Threw incense of rich odors on the air,
Close walling in the temple's holy ground
With beauty wild and rare.

Amid the fragrant blooms

The rich blue clusters of the bilberry hung,
While high amid the maple's shadowy glooms
The clinging wild vine swung.

There, through the leafy aisles

A rapturous anthem each fresh dawn awakes,
That, like heaven's music, with day's earliest smiles,
The morning stillness breaks;

And softer, when the breeze

Of quiet evening through the red sky floats,
The feathered singers from the dusky trees
Send up their vesper notes:

For Nature's choristers,

In the wood temples, are the singing birds,
Whose guileless hymn as pure devotion stirs
As solemn-chanted words.

Methinks the red man there

To the Great Spirit bowed in solemn awe,
And offered silently his simple prayer-
And joyous omens saw,