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Knowing the heart of Man is set to be
The centre of this World, about the which
Those revolutions of disturbances
Still roll ; where all the aspects of misery
Predominate; whose strong effects are such
As he must bear, being powerless to redress ;
And that unless above himself he can
Erect himself, how poor a thing is Man !*

Happy is He who lives to understand! Not human Nature only, but explores All Natures,—to the end that he may find The law that governs each; and where begins The union, the partition where, that makes Kind and degree, among all visible Beings; The constitutions, powers, and faculties, Which they inherit,-cannot step beyond, And cannot fall beneath ; that do assign To every Class its station and its office, Through all the mighty Commonwealth of things ; Up from the creeping plant to sovereign Man. Such Converse, if directed by a meek,

• Daniel,

Sincere, and humble Spirit, teaches love;
For knowledge is delight; and such delight
Breeds love ; yet, suited as it rather is
To thought and to the climbing intellect,
It teaches less to love, than to adore;
If that be not indeed the highest Love!”

“ Yet,” said I, tempted here to interpose, “ The dignity of Life is not impaired By aught that innocently satisfies The humbler cravings of the heart; and He Is a still happier Man, who, for those heights Of speculation not unfit, descends ; And such benign affections cultivates Among the inferior Kinds; not merely those That he may call his own, and which depend, As individual objects of regard, Upon his care,—from whom he also looks For signs and tokens of a mutual bond,But others, far beyond this narrow sphere, Whom, for the very sake of love, he loves. Nor is it a mean praise of rural life And solitude, that they do favour most,

Most frequently call forth, and best sustain
These pure sensations; that can penetrate
The obstreperous City; on the barren Seas
Are not unfelt,--and much might recommend,
How much they might inspirit and endear,
The loneliness of this sublime Retreat!” ..)

Yes,” said the Sage, resuming the discourse Again directed to his downcast. Friend, “ If, with the froward will and groveling soul Of Man offended, liberty is here, And invitation every hour renewed, To mark their placid state, who never heard Of a command which they have power to break, Or rule which they are tempted to transgress; These, with a soothed or elevated heart, May we behold, their knowledge register, Observe their ways; and, free from envy, find Complacence there :--but wherefore this to You? I guess that, welcome to your lonely hearth, The Redbreast feeds in winter from your hand ; A box perchance is from your casement hung For the small Wren to build in ;not in vain,

The barriers disregarding that surround
This deep Abiding-place, before your sight
Mounts on the breeze the Butterfly—and soars,
Small Creature as she is, from earth's bright flowers
Into the dewy clouds. " Ambition reigns
In the waste wilderness : the Soul ascends
Towards her native firmament of heaven,
When the fresh Eagle, in the month of May,
Upborne, at evening, on replenished wing,
This shady valley leaves, and leaves the dark
Empurpled hills,-conspicuously renewing
A proud communication with the sun
Low sunk beneath the horizon!-List !- I heard,
From yon huge breast of rock, å solemn bleat;
Sent forth as if it were the Mountain's voice,
As if the visible Mountain made the

cry.
Again !”—The effect upon the soul was such
As he expressed; for, from the mountain's heart
The solemn bleat appeared to come; there was
No other and the region all around
Stood silent, empty of all shape of life.
- It was a Lamb-left somewhere to itself,
The plaintive Spirit of the Solitude-

He paused, as if unwilling to proceed,
Through consciousness that silence in such place
Was best,—the most affecting eloquence.
But soon his thoughts returned upon themselves,
And, in soft tone of speech, he thus resumed.

“ Ah! if the heart, too confidently raịsed, Perchance too lightly occupied, or lulled Too easily, despise or overlook The vassalage that binds her to the earth, Her sad dependance upon time, and all The trepidations of mortality, What place so destitute and void—but there The little Flower her vanity shall check; The trailing Worm reprove her thoughtless pride?

These craggy regions, these chaotic wilds,
Does that benignity pervade, that warms
The Mole contented with her darksome walk
In the cold ground; and to the Emmet gives
Her foresight; and the intelligence that makes
The tiny Creatures strong by social league ;
Supports the generations, multiplies

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