LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 0001363^13^ »B5 SJlJt^i: QflmPO r9M(H Qass. ' S5 r/ i Book. MORNING CLOUDS. This battle fares like to the morning'3 war, When dying clouds contend with growing light." Shakespeabe. LONDON: LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, LONGMANS, & ROBERTS. 1857. By Trar Dept. ot ccata DEC Printed by Spottistvoode & Co. New-street-Square. TO THE FEW FOE WHOM THIS BOOK IS INTENDED, $i is g*bkateb, WITH AFFECTION AND EESFECT. PREFACE. The sorrowful need a compassionate comforter, and those who are dark in their own counsel an under- standing guide, an interpreter of confused notions. If any who open this book are disquieted by per- plexities too vague to be accurately described, and beyond the reach of general advice, I entreat their attention while I endeavour to meet them. It is my earnest desire to be of use to such readers. The suggestions offered will have no pretension to originality ; they must be, in great measure, echoes from the teaching of wiser men ; but having myself passed through the uncertainties of youth with a troubled mind, I trust that experience may give to my words some force and facility of application, or, failing in this, may at least afford the quieting plea- sure of sympathy. VI PREFACE. Ycu desire to be understood; for, though self- consciousness begins to be intense, you find the inner and outer life still unharmonised : you think if some one could know your inexplicable difficulties, if the strangeness of your particular grief was recog- nised, there might be more peace within. You have much to suffer before you entirely believe that He who made and knows all that is in man can alone truly enter into the sorrow and heal the sickness of our souls. That He may make me in any degree a good messenger to you, who, with the battle before you, have not yet chosen the subordinate parts of your armour, is my prayer. The weapons, whose efficacy I shall insist upon, are those which our Creator has provided for us, and which only our own misuse can make altogether unsuccessful. Lest any, for whom this book can have no other interest than that of an exercise for their powers of criticism, should take it up, and be offended by the indecorum of an ever recurring " I think," " I believe," " I advise," I must so far anticipate their censure as to acknowledge that I cannot hope PREFACE. Yll to escape it. Their approval I must forego. If, in consideration of my object, they grant me forgive- ness, it will be a boon on which I do not reckon. Those for whom I write will not mistake plain speaking for presumption, and to them I hope I need not apologise for using simple expressions in prefer- ence to the usual guarded forms of circumlocution, which, though less exposed to ridicule, are more liable to misconstruction, and about as modest as the re- viewer's official " we." Let honest hearts believe that when I say " I think," " I recommend," and the like, instead of " it would seem," " it might not be amiss," &c, &c, I assume nothing more than the privilege of directness in communicating thought, and I only claim the in- dulgent attention of those I long to serve. People of small importance will sometimes tease their neighbours by frequently referring to acquaint- ances among the great, and friends will too often indulge their affection in the same way, and with the same effect. I am afraid that the number of quotations in this book might justify a reader in classing me among the most troublesome of these in- Vlll PREFACE. discreet admirers: the best excuse I can offer is, that for the most part I have quoted the opinion of men really great, — friends of the whole civilised world, — counsellors so serviceable and unchanging, that I thought those who knew them already would be pleased to find them duly valued, and those to whom they were unknown, if once introduced to such companions, might be glad to make them their friends and counsellors also. MORNING CLOUDS. CHAPTEE I. Era 'n gran tempo ; e del cammino incertd* Misero peregrin molti anni andai, Con dubbio pie sender cangiando spesso, Tal che 'n ira e 'n dispregio ebbi me stesso, E tutti i miei pensier me spiacquer poi, Ch' io non poter trovar scorta o consiglio." Rime del Casa. Some degree of uncertainty is inevitable, when we first feel the power of self-direction. As long as the control of another gives definiteness to our proceed- ings, the peace of a freedom within limits leaves the heart open to every pleasant influence; and if at times the pressure of authority is burdensome, it is a hindrance felt to be external, and soon forgotten ; at least in cases where a loving wisdom imposes, and fi B 7 2 MORNING CLOUDS. obedience receives it. A time comes when the sup- porting bands are withdrawn, when the inexperienced must direct themselves. Left alone, with a sensitive, thoughtful nature, we feel the " burden of free will," man's glorious pre- rogative : to hold it worthily among the delusions of this life requires a long and severe discipline. I do not doubt that the good seed sown in childhood will spring up, though possibly under influences which seem overpoweringly adverse; and it is the doubt how to cherish the growth of good seed, how to keep the tares from choking, and the sun from deadly parching up, not how to find a better root than is planted already, which agitates us when self- education begins. In these days, the most honest mind, asking itself, ei How shall I make the best use of life ? " finds enough to confuse it. At every pause in the hurry of action, the thoughtful perceive that they are standing where many cross ways intersect, and that the signpost of each asserts that it leads to the same point, — to the best mode of living. Ac- cordingly, we see numbers of eager travellers diverging in almost opposite directions, nearly every one assured that he treads the path leading to the greatest good ; and, so far as this, all may be right ; truth being infinitely greater than human powers of LIGHT AS5UBED TO 7 B 3 -\z:z~: : .:z. zz:\z zzzlzi - '- i zi.7,7 z? """.}: I'-"izr guidance 1 in the right direction for that pardon of zzzzz'z. —~zl;'z. iis zizzszr.zzzzL.zz — 1~. rr-rj.ir-: Lin :•: ::• --_'.-: :£.-- : ii- _:-.:£ '- 1127 neei izi obtain a very different view of it. Zliis : ;~ ; i \iz-'.:i:~ 5 _ : : . I _;\:;.:1 \:s irii^s: inr.:I~- n.~:c iz.1 ill :_r : -- -, 7~~- : - — '-* : _--; :: -rr.:- diee ; hot it does not give an y excuse for a slothful belief in the indifference •: I I : :1 :l:Lf ::.i. — -e- 5:7 / .. irf :: -.-_:"'. :r z: izii-ir:- iir. ::: Ht is ;- /" " g-~ : :•: -if ::t::7..1t r~" ----- - .— — - - — s-~ —■- - - 1;-;-" ^ -------- -jl^_ But for instruction in those obscurer parts of our : : —'zl:'z n: iisriz:: z::i:7 is z^i :.'.f ~ ~t look to the reason God has given, and to the ex- _: : _ t «'. : :: Sis :: — 1 lizzie :zz t _:1 BtsIItS. :■: z'zzi _:::•! rxeriiii^is. i.iii_ f~ -I7 —, i'-g with all their talents, abundant usury is given : to 7 ::: - : "".:_. :l:f ii£. t_: = ; :*-■= H:*-7 .StLtIt : s-: :£..: Lili- ~7 ;.--> ;.: :,-..: f:\ii i- 4 MORNING CLOUDS. the exercise of our faculties as if from these aloue we could receive increase of wisdom, by our mys- terious connection with the Divine Being we obtain supplies of grace for which language has no name and faith no limit. Believing that you are fully instructed in sound religion, and have found in the Bible an all-sufficient answer to the tremendous doubts of the sceptic, I shall only try to speak in detail of those lesser ones by which you may be troubled, and which, I believe, are more fairly met by the humble suggestions of prudence than with partial and strained application of Scripture precepts, — often a most hazardous resource to feeble minds, and one always open to the attacks of cavillers. In lines that need not be quoted again, Words- worth has expressed gratitude for " blank misgiv- ings "— at a time when, we may be sure, they were fully passed; for the soul of man is seldom more uncomfortable than when these overspread it. Have you not felt these misgivings ? Have they not sur- prised you with aU intensity of pain that seemed causeless ? It may have been when you were flushed with a little unhoped-for success ; or they may have followed a chain of petty disappointments, and turned conscious and definite chagrin into the vague- DISSATISFACTION. O ness of utter dejection. When your heart has been stung with the exceeding beauty of the external world, these misgivings have returned, and you have asked, with sighs, {( Why am not I, why is not my daily life, in some way beautiful, with a perfection answerable to nature's ? " And, again, some chance word has brought them back, and you have hastened to engross yourself with tangible things rather than endure the unavailing toil of self-questioning thought ; or, as so often happens, peace of mind seen in another has reflected with sad distinctness your own broken and entangled feelings. I believe these sorrows belong to an order of beings whose capacities cannot long be occupied by merely transitory interests. W r ere you able to anticipate future wisdom, you might willingly resign yourself to these disturbances of mind as a pledge of far greater happiness, even in this world, than those incapable of them ever attain. But it is neither desirable nor possible that any should thus avoid a portion of life's teaching. Born for an immortality of inconceivable bliss, it is no marvel that the trifles of the present (and trifles we must esteem them till we better understand their purpose) seem utterly inadequate to still the spirit's thirst. It longs for something more than it finds, something greater than all that is offered to it ; and JJ 3 6 MORNING CLOUDS. as day by day creeps forward with a heavy freight of little duties,, little joys, little pursuits, the poor novice often groans with a despair seldom known when custom has tamed and time " rocked to pa- tience." But when there is nothing in the outer life to which blind hope can attach its immeasurable web, the woman who cannot appease her heart with frivo- lous objects will too often admit delusions of such intense interest that for a time it craves nothing more. She will in many cases suppose herself to be loved supremely by the only person who can at all represent her ideal ; and with this delicious supposi- tion she will occupy her mind till the wholesome in- stincts of common sense as to what is are confused by wild dreams of what may he. Whether, in the early part of woman's life, this folly affects all without exception, I cannot presume to decide ; there is much to make one believe it very common — a malady seldom entirely escaped. And since a delusion, which at any stage of existence is almost invariable, must have its use, this seeming- waste of feeling cannot be altogether in vain. The powers of an infant are stimulated by the sight of unattainable objects; those of the adult are, no doubt, exercised by the imagination of things equally inac- cessible ; and in devotion to one, who for the time FIRST LOVE. ( being represents human perfection, self may be a little lost sight of, and the only Disposer of hearts more constantly remembered. Yet, before any of you who read these pages enter upon this educational chase of shadows ; or even if now you feel the deli- rium of unwarranted hope, let a few words of warn- ing and comfort be favourably received. Do not, if you love your own peace, seek to exchange it for the excitements of passion. If at your present age — perhaps something less than twenty years, you expect your feelings to be shared by the one for whose love you now think all other blessings would be easily given up, you expect what is not often pro- bable; if you expect that such love when mutual should be approved by those on whose sanction its prosperity must depend, you expect what common experience proves to be very unlikely, and the un- usual cases that are now and then heard of, fortify- ing the hope of each trembling heart that its own may be one of them, are the result of a combination of circumstances so rare, as to justify one in saying it is only possible for first love to be both happy in its object, and successful in its fate. If to any one of you this uncommon happiness is assigned, the remarks I hazard (more in affec- tionate protest, than in the belief that they will do B 4 8 MORNING CLOUDS. good) are not applicable ; neither will you who are so singularly blessed suffer from the aimlessness of life which I am attributing to my imaginary reader. A destiny that makes this impossible is indeed blessed ; and yet this suffering is truly a token of peculiar mercy ; for it indicates a nature of great capacities, a nature which must be continually rest- less till it has found its rest in God. With regard to the enchanting dream that for a while fills you with strong emotions, I must ask you to believe, that though now you can hardly con- ceive any other form of mercy than the fulfilment of your passionate hopes, the time may come when you will pour out heartfelt thanksgivings for the Divine Love which destroys the hope of man. Many weary days must creep by first, and often must your heart sicken, believing its hope deferred, but indestructible ; and while you cherish it, the present will be either a state of secret rapture, soon changing to an insatiable hunger of the heart ; or a heavy load of blank hours that have no gladness, but flashes of sweet remembrance and sweeter anti- cipation. The process by which the deluded heart assures itself that its love is necessarily returned, is in all much alike. GROUNDLESS CONFIDENCE. \) First, the preference; the pleasant fancy; — then its nameless superstitions ; the belief that you are preferred ; the grave assertion, to yourself alone, that you were made for each other; mysterious coincidences ; realised presentiments ; clear proofs of similarity of taste, arranged with all the inge- nious arts of self-deception ; — till at last, by a strange mode of reasoning, even the silence of another may be so interpreted as to strengthen a false persuasion ; and without exactly putting it into words like Moliere's Belise, — " Us m'ont su reverer si fort, que jusqu'a ce jour lis ne m'ont jamais dit un mot de leur amour ; Mais, pour m'onrir leur coeur et vouer leur service, Les muets truchements ont tous fait leur office," you are indulging in a somewhat similar train of thought. Meanwhile the real life, external to this pageantry of hope, is tasteless and burdensome. Too well most of those who have reached the middle age of womanhood know each crisis in this long fever; but if every one had given you her con- fession of its well-remembered course, its lingering weakness, and sorrowful close ; you would still exult in what you persuade yourself is a more trustworthy 10 MORNING CLOUDS. hope, till it perished, till the presence you had longed for brought its death-warrant. Do not fall under the terrible blow ; there is yet something to live for ; there is yet love on earth, even pure and strong love, and always a refuge for the broken-hearted — everywhere the everlasting love of a reconciled God. He hears you moan ; you are neither unpitied nor forsaken. The words of a fellow-creature are at such times utterly unavailing, but to the Comforter you can show all your grief. It is after the first days of bitterness are over- passed — when, disenchanted and feeble, you find traces of the silent wreck on all sides of your daily life : it is then that I would try and gain a hearing for truth among the harsh discords of disappointment; desiring to press upon your incredulous mind this unpoetical fact — that the love which can never be yours was most unlikely to have made you per- manently happy. Granting that your affection was won by real excellence, it by no means follows that it was of the kind which you would continue to love when brought into close connexion with it. The experience of every day is convincing many unfortunates of mistakes in this direction, that a whole lifetime cannot undo. Perhaps you do not yet know that love attributes so much of an ideal nature THE CHOICE OF FANCY UNWISE. 11 to its object, as to leave the true nature often unguessed. Very often we imagine in another per- son all those good qualities which lie undeveloped in ourselves. In how many instances of woman's love, it may be said with some truth, " the form she so much worshipped was her own." Not consciously, for it happens when self is in complete disgrace with the imagination; and assuredly it is the last form we wish to find a duplicate of when it is better known. Time, ripening those latent virtues which were given to the hero of fancy, will bring to many a far more exalting object of love than the idol of their youth, — one whose very difference of character will be the closest bond of affection ; and (though you will now be offended if I imply any likeness in your fate to Titania's) you may some day look back to this miserable present with wonder, scarcely able to recognise your grief, and owning that it was indeed " the fierce vexation of a dream." I know the weak- ness of words on this subject; but whether mine have brought smiles to those readers who disclaim all cognizance of this youthful distemper, or tears to those who even now listen and watch for an arrival they hardly dare expect, I entreat them to distrust every vehement hope that calculates on 12 MORNING CLOUDS. human affection ; and in all their future perplexities continually and without reserve to commend their destinies to Him " who disposes of all things sweetly and according to the nature and capacity of things."* Beyond the beautiful mirage of Love, the shadow of Death is frequently imagined, and welcomed as a hope. The shock of a great sorrow seldom fails to tell upon health, and it is often followed by symptoms that threaten serious disease; while the patient, believing that her languishing con- dition is only a preliminary of fatal decline, feels soothed by the prospect, and would reluctantly re- sign its secret and melancholy joy. People are apt to say, " How sad for such a young person to be taken ! " when death happens early. I believe this is seldom the feeling of the young, unless they have already gone far enough under the real shadow of death to be able to appreciate its gloom and terror, with fancies as vivid as the inexperienced bring to bear upon the more definite sorrows of life. Keen affliction causes in young hearts such astonishment, such fresh pangs of grief, they cannot believe them common to humanity, and so they will often persuade themselves that it is for the especial purpose of quickly weaning them from life, that the time of * Jeremy Taylor. EARLY DEATH EXPECTED. 13 trouble is allowed; "indeed," so the foolish heart expresses itself, " unless death is shortly to bring the crown, this degree of suffering is unaccountable." Thus, with a happy ignorance of their future, and a curious counterfeit of resignation (flinching from the lot to which they are appointed), they enter upon a solemn preparation for death, — that may be distant by tens of years, — and neglect all that would fit them for the peculiar duties of earthly life in its usual length. A sense of leave-taking gives an in- describable pathos and charm to the ordinary details of existence ; it sublimes the most minute occurrence to meet it as one of the few more of its kind which we are to witness. What can be uninteresting, when we believe ourselves on the threshold of eternity ? what have power to disturb the heroic calm in which the deluded soul is wrapped ? When time bears us on, and instead of the haven we find a wider sea ; when the expected harbingers of death come not, and bodily health is manifestly improving, then is the time for heroism; for so feeble is our hold on undoubted truths, that when we see no probability of death, an unlimited term of years seems to war- rant the carelessness of the happy, or the dismay of one that is "vexed with all things." From the apparent endlessness of immediate prospects, the 14 MORNING CLOUDS. unhappy turn with something like despair. " Blank, wintry, dark, unmeasured," the horizon of a colour- less present circles the waste of time. They cannot believe in a brighter future — the present paralyses even the powers of hope. You who have not nown this state of feeling, and not for once or twice, but for days together, in many succeeding years, will think my expressions too strong. Alas ! too many will understand all poor Leopardi felt when he said, " Intanto, io chieggo Quanto a viver mi resti, e qui per terra Mi getta, e grido, e fremo. O giorni orrendi In cosi verde etate ! " La Sera. When seeking comfort for these, I think it would be a mistake to urge them vehemently to consider the disagreement of such feelings with baptismal vows, and the whole Christian profession : hearts which are faint and wounded must be led back to the combat with great gentleness. For the pertur- bations of spirit which some are allowed to suffer, there is no speedy remedy, and it will only increase the tendency to desperation, if we allow ourselves to speak of it as a strange unholy error that can be easily dismissed. LONG LIFE DESIKABLE. 15 But to return to this common anticipation of early death ; though I find a sort of amusement in recalling my emotions, when it occupied me (since I certainly played a part in a solemn drama of my own, instead of living with cheerful attention to actual things), yet I would in no way speak lightly of a persuasion that may be sent for warning, and justified by the result. When at every age death is frequent, all who believe revelation must continually prepare for the final summons, and watch always. But, I suppose, it is a duty, with rare exceptions, to wish for a continuance of life, and, in all ways which do not run counter to our eternal aim, to live as if we expected it. It was noted by Dr. Cheyne, as his resolution, " to neglect nothing to secure my eternal peace, more than if I had been certified I should die within the day; nor to mind anything that my secular obligations and duties demanded of me, less than if I had been insured to live fifty years more." / Let us not think it any sign that we love God, if (we allow ourselves, when troubles come, to long for death. Job earnestly desired it, but the glorious hope of a Christian is to be made like Jesus ; — surely | this likeness is faintly sought for by those who fear to follow Him in the gloom and tediousness of pro- 16 MORNING CLOUDS. longed trial. Remember always, in your most miser- able moments, that a merciful Shepherd leads you on, — that His injunction to the trembling disciples of old is still addressed to each of us, " Fear not." And do not doubt that He will give you fitting work, though now temporary discouragement may hide from you its importance. No seeming insignifi- cance, no weakness of mind or body need hinder any creature from advancing the glory of God, and the good of man. Let us shake off the drowsiness of sorrow; let us find out our work, and by God's help do it perfectly. Some will answer to this with almost a groan : they will say, "It is the very misery of our lives that we cannot discover in what our work consists; and so our days drift away, unused among the rubbish of other wasted lives." But supposing your days have no conscious pur- pose (and a mournful supposition it is), yet they are not necessarily wasted ; even these blank days are teaching, if nothing else, pity ; if you are wise, many other lessons, equally precious. Do you not by them gain sympathy, and the power of helping other disconsolate seekers ? Have you not learned, once for all, that circumstances cannot make peace for the objectless mind? All this, and much besides, of which you could give no account now, but of FUTURE COMPENSATION. 17 which you will feel the worth in years of fuller occupation. It may now appear a treasure dearly bought, but our education in this stage of existence is of such tremendous moment, that true wisdom accounts the cost to be trifling. 18 MORNING CLOUDS. CHAP. II. " Arbeit giebt Kraft-gefiihl, und in diesem bcsteht unser hochstes Vcrgniigen." * — Mutter. In the abstract, I suppose all will agree that work is one of the greatest blessings we have ; that it is honourable to labour diligently, and that an in- active life is generally a most unhappy one ; but though we know this, and entirely believe that the petty business of every day has its " outlet to in- finity," it comes to us, under many circumstances, with a very different aspect. And it is often as difficult to decide what our especial work is, and how to do it, as to overcome the reluctance to obvious duties to which human nature is so per- versely disposed. Far more difficult to the thought- ful than to any others, reflection suggests hindrances in a variety as inexhaustible as the scruples of a morbid conscience; and if the reflective mind is * Work gives the feeling of strength, and in this our highest pleasure consists. THE WORTH OF PRESENT TIME. 19 moreover dulled by an abiding sorrow : if to every little effort " weak Grief comes with her withered hand," is it strange that sometimes it sinks in utter prostration, and believes that all hopes must die in * languor and long tears " ? Let us, then, fix in our hearts for ever, the belief that at all times to do some good is possible ; that we live, is proof enough that our Maker " has need " of us among our fellow-creatures ; and when we really believe this, shall not we rise quickly from the dull sleep of melancholy, and employ our reason, while we implore His light for the discovery of that peculiar service for which the unresembled being of each one of us is designed ? Roscoe has remarked, when speaking of the youth of nations, a fact which I believe to be applicable to many individuals : — " Ignorant of that which relates to their immediate well-being, they attempt to rise into the realms of immaterial existence." " It has been the most difficult effort of the human mind to divest itself of absurdity and error, and to quit its sublime flights for the plain and palpable inductions of reason and common sense; and hence the due estimation of our own powers, although it be of all sciences the most im- portant, is generally the latest acquired." c 2 20 MORNING CLOUDS. There is such a satisfaction in doing our proper work, that this once found and entered upon with prudent energy, no place would be left in the heart for the intense stimulant of expecting death, and searching for intimations of its approach. Though, if I do not mistake, there is in early years a much looser tie between body and spirit, which makes the anticipation of death less appalling then than it afterwards becomes. It is my belief that every year of earthly life more closely unites the opposing elements of hu- manity, and that even when the body is kept under, this wonderful material life gains upon the spirit ; at least thus much, — that it dims many spiritual perceptions, and draws the mind more habitually towards bodily interests, till by degrees mental supremacy is almost shrouded in the apathy and humiliating weakness of extreme old age. This I believe to be the course of nature ; bright excep- tions we may all know ; but who that has reached middle age will deny our fatal proneness to be over- ruled by bodily sensation rather than by reason and conscience ? * Having before us the danger of this * Those who are capable of deep reflection, and conscious of lia- bility to sloth, or any other habit which gives the body predominating influence, would do well to exert themselves to read, and understand BODY AND SPIRIT. 21 encroachment of the animal upon our nobler part, every day of life's irrecoverable spring must be esteemed infinitely valuable ; and just because it is, the ever-recurring question, l( How shall I best spend it ? " is beset with so many difficulties. If you have the docility of mind common to those whose natural powers are strong, you have pro- bably put it in some form or other to every one you could consult whose judgment seemed to be worth having, and probably the opinions given have by no means agreed. all they can of a treatise of Schiller's, "Ueber den Zusammenhang der thierischen Xatur des Menschen mit seiner Geistigen." I cannot pro- mise that it will he an easy task, even if read in the English transla- tion ; but so great is their danger ivho will only attempt what is easy, that an enlightened instinct of self-preservation might, I think, sup- port them through the difficulties inseparable from subjects that require thought ; and any one who can overcome these difficulties will find in Schiller's pages an adequate reward. The warnings he gives are not too abstruse for every-day pur- poses : — nothing, for instance, can be plainer than this assertion of a sad and solemn fact when he says (speaking of the tyranny of prevailing appetites) ; " Wider die iiberhandnehmenden thierischen Fuhlungen vermag endlich die hochste Anstrengung des Geistes nicht mehr, die Vernunft wird, so wie sie wachsen, mehr und mehr ubertaubt und die Seele gewaltsam an den Organismus gefesselt." (" Against the overmastering bodily feelings the highest effort of the spirit can at last do nothing more : reason, as they grow, becomes more and more deafened, and the soul powerfully fettered to the organi- sation"} — On the Connection of the Animal and Spiritual Nature of Man, section 5. Schiller's Prose Works. C 3 22 MORNING CLOUDS. I can imagine, or rather remember, several, which are likely to have been applied to your indefinite inquiries. Some must have told you, with affec- tionate earnestness, " not to think so much about yourself; " to try and forget self more than you do; — excellent counsel! — if it were not so often accompanied by comments of a nature which make this more than ever impossible. Xow we can no more forget self, till there is a degree of peace within, than we can forget the body while it is in sharp pain. When we can " charm ache with air, and agony with words," this general call to self-oblivion will succeed in its well-meant purpose, but we may, and we must do a great deal, when peace is restored, or before it is endangered, towards occupying our minds so fully with the interests of others, as to free ourselves from the plague of con- stant self-inspection. This is what the class of advisers just mentioned aim at ; speaking sound truths, but in ignorance of the precise nature of your need. Another friend might answer in some such w r ords as these of Mr. Adam's, in his " Private Thoughts : " " With regard to what I read or think, © © y the question should be, f Is it really interesting ? Will such, a speculation improve me in religious knowledge, or bring me nearer to God ? ' If it will ADVANTAGE OF EVERY ACQUIREMENT. 23 not, discard it at once." Give heed to words like these, but, I beseech you, not an unconditional assent : here is an occasion for exercising your keenest dis- cernment ; for under such expressions (used by the old, and not intended for beginners) have lurked the germs of many a plausible pretender to heavenly wisdom ; by such many have been misled. In the true and comprehensive sense of this passage, no Christian can find danger ; in the partial and mis- taken acceptance of it, how many snares will every thoughtful mind detect. Apply this rule to the cultivation of talents : sup- pose a taste for music or painting, and ask yourself how many in youth can rightly judge whether the pursuit of art will bring the soul nearer to God? Can the young see all its subtle bearings on spiritual growth? or even guess the measure of pure happi- ness that through this channel may reach them in the thirsty wilderness of after life ? Have they, now, ought they to have, any adequate conception of the secrets of personal influence ? And yet the un- conscious powers to which we refer in the use of this vague expression are incalculably strengthened by every kind and degree of proficiency. I believe that by any advance towards perfection, by any sort of well done action, the creature glorifies the Creator. Piety c 4 ! ■ 24 MORNING CLOUDS. has been so often sadly associated with feebleness of judgment and of will, that religious people who in- crease their strength in any innocent direction, surely help forward the cause of religion. This belief, or, at least, this hope, may justly dignify in our eyes attention to the smallest accomplishments. I know that the eyes of heavenly contemplation are described by Spenser as both " blunt and bad " among earthly things ; but I cannot see why they should be so in seeking those pleasures which diligence and the taste of a pure heart may attain. To return to the advisers of the doubtful. There will be among them some whose buoyant spirit will incline them to feel your gravity oppressive ; to think it unnatural, the result of cherished errors. They will, therefore, attack you with vigorous kindliness, determined on cure ; they will call your doubts, and even your habit of reflection, morbid; and, while they prove the dissonance of your feelings with the uni- versal cheerfulness of nature and their own happy temperament, almost succeed in persuading you that you can at once shake it off, and look only to the bright side of things. It happens, however, that often, just as they have brought you to own to a mind diseased, they unwittingly lose their only chance of prescribing for it effectively by a gay BENEFICENCE. 25 protest against thought and trifle weighing. " This miserable trick of self-tormenting," they will ex- claim ; " why not go with the tide a little more, and take things as you find them ? " " These trifles are not of consequence; why treat them so solemnly?" Enough ; their spell is broken. You must for ever divide on that point, though much that they urged is undeniable, and truth you are too likely to forget. In act and word, in thought and feeling, you hardly find anything to be a trifle; and in withdrawing gently from a discussion that reveals irreconcilable differences of opinion, you will be tempted to apply to your adviser Fichte's description of the specimen : " Ihr mochtet wohl gern ein wenig vern'nftig handeln, nur um Himmels willen nicht ganz."* There will be more difficulty in disposing of earnest entreaties to spend yourself no longer in the various interests of life, but to throw all your energies into charitable works ; to let all other things yield to that by which our life will be tested at the Supreme Tribunal hereafter. The many ill-fed, ill-clothed, untaught, and unhelped, whose obscure troubles generally surround every home, are eloquently brought forward as incitements not to be resisted. * You would willingly act a little reasonably, but, for Heaven's sake, not quite. 26 MOKNING CLOUDS. Nor let them ever be. By prayer for a larger share of Christian love, by every possible effort to do all the good to souls and bodies which our sphere of action allows, let us strive to fulfil our highly pri- vileged duties ; to minister joyfully to the fellow - members of Christ's spiritual Body. I fear it is seldom that we fully live according to our belief in this matter, though the words of the Bible are plain, and the promises, infinitely gracious, can shed a glo- rious hope round the meanest of our feeble services. But we are of little faith : with what coldness and apprehensive prudence our small charities are often performed ! I would gladly think you open to every suggestion of those who place good works foremost in every scheme of employment. At the same time, I would have you beware of their tendency to narrow the scope of charity within the limits of what is tan- gible, or of what is direct in its aim ; because the greatest blessings man can bring to his fellow man are frequently those of which no human eye can take cognizance, least of all that of the benefactor. And yet they will be charities, and the result of all that makes beneficence acceptable,— of self-denial, sincerity, love, and the meekness of wisdom ; but a result that reaches to the ends of God's mercy by a passage so indirect and unforeseen, that in it the im- ACCEPTABLE SERVICE. 27 mediate will of man cannot be discovered. All may aspire to these charities while they labour humbly for self-improvement and submit to the discipline it requires ; those to whom a liberal cultivation of mind is afforded may hope, while they suffer its peculiar trials, that they are to be instruments of peculiar force. The question then remains thus modified : i( What means of profiting other people does my sphere of action allow? You must answer this for yourself; since it is remarkable that the actions of each per- son, to a degree, blind or dim their perception of the worth of other kinds of action ; and she who has spent many years in working for the poor with her hands, may not always see the equal fitness of the exertions of another in village schools ; still less of those, seemingly self-ended, which occupy the studious cultivator of mental powers or artistic taste. If I may venture to offer an opinion where only con- science and an enlightened judgment can decide, it shall be this : that first the natural tastes, and then the means given, in your allotted circumstances, for their indulgence, are, so to speak, providential hints of the way in which time (when unclaimed by more determined duties) will be most advantageously employed. 28 HOKNING CLOUDS. Only see to it, that in such occupation, not pas- time, but increase of ability is gained ; and in every act, self-imposed or required by others, remember the words of your Master, — " He that is faithful in that which is least, is faithful also in much, — " as applicable to every worker, both for warning and encouragement. You may truly serve Him in that which appears least, in what is only done to please a child, to soothe an impatient person, or to break off an unpleasant personal trick of your own. VALUE OF MENTAL POWER. 29 CHAP. III. " My intent is, without varnish or amplification, justly to weigh the dignity of knowledge in the balance with other things ; to take the true value thereof by testimonies and arguments divine and human." — Bacon's Advancement of Learning. There is great variety of opinion as to the advan- tages of mental culture, beyond the average mea- sure allowed to well-bred women. To you for whom I write, the problem is more likely to be : "How can it be carried on most wisely?" then 5 <( Shall I apply myself to self-cultivation ? " for, with you, it is almost as much a necessity, in some shape, as daily bread ; if it were not, your patience would not have lasted to this point of the mental chart, which I am endeavouring (though how imperfectly !) to draw out. In these days, intellectual attainments are valued so highly, that there will be no danger of any young person forgetting them in her search for worthy aims ; but the excess to which the admiration of intellect 30 MOKNING CLOUDS. is sometimes carried, will perhaps lead the way, in some minds, to a depreciation of it quite as unwise. For, as Sir Thomas Browne remarked long ago, " Because the Apostle bids us beware of philosophy, heads of extremity will have none at all— an usual fallacy of vulgar and less distinctive brains, who having once overshot the mean, run violently on, and find no rest but in the extremes." In order to secure ourselves from false estimates of the worth of mental power, it will be well to set down, as clearly as we can, what is to be hoped, and what feared, from its utmost perfection. You may still hear strange doubts and stranger assertions on this subject : ridi- cule which seems to imply a latent contempt for any gain not reducible to coin, or personal effects ; and praise that places intellectual power highest among the possibilities of a human being. Before I advance my own opinions on this question, I should like you to see how ably both sides of it have been treated by two well fitted to decide ; by Miss War- burton, in the chapter upon Genius, in her