of which he deems himself an enthusiastic follower,
and one who wishes to continue no less faithful and
enthusiastic. We would tell him that there are
paths which he has not trodden; recesses which he has
not penetrated; that there is a beauty which he has
not seen, a pathos which he has not felt, a sublimity
to which he hath not been raised. If he have
trembled because there has occasionally taken place
in him a lapse of which he is conscious; if he foresee
open or secret attacks, which he has had intimations
that he will neither be strong enough to resist, nor
watchful enough to elude, let him not hastily ascribe
this weakness, this deficiency, and the painful apprehensions
accompanying them, in any degree to the virtues or
noble qualities with which youth by nature is furnished;
but let him first be assured, before he looks about
for the means of attaining the insight, the discriminating
powers, and the confirmed wisdom of manhood, that
his soul has more to demand of the appropriate excellencies
of youth, than youth has yet supplied to it; that
the evil under which he labours is not a superabundance
of the instincts and the animating spirit of that
age, but a falling short, or a failure. But what
can he gain from this admonition? He cannot recall
past time; he cannot begin his journey afresh; he cannot
untwist the links by which, in no undelightful harmony,
images and sentiments are wedded in his mind.
Granted that the sacred light of childhood is and
must be for him no more than a remembrance. He
may, notwithstanding, be remanded to nature, and with
trustworthy hopes, founded less upon his sentient
than upon his intellectual being; to nature, as leading
on insensibly to the society of reason, but to reason
and will, as leading back to the wisdom of nature.
A re-union, in this order accomplished, will bring
reformation and timely support; and the two powers
of reason and nature, thus reciprocally teacher and
taught, may advance together in a track to which there
is no limit.
We have been discoursing (by implication at least)
of infancy, childhood, boyhood, and youth, of pleasures
lying upon the unfolding intellect plenteously as
morning dew-drops,—of knowledge inhaled
insensibly like the fragrance,—of dispositions
stealing into the spirit like music from unknown quarters,—of
images uncalled for and rising up like exhalations,—of
hopes plucked like beautiful wild flowers from the
ruined tombs that border the highways of antiquity,
to make a garland for a living forehead;—in
a word, we have been treating of nature as a teacher
of truth through joy and through gladness, and as a
creatress of the faculties by a process of smoothness
and delight. We have made no mention of fear,
shame, sorrow, nor of ungovernable and vexing thoughts;
because, although these have been and have done mighty
service, they are overlooked in that stage of life
when youth is passing into manhood—overlooked,
or forgotten. We now apply for the succour which
we need to a faculty that works after a different
course; that faculty is reason; she gives more spontaneously,
but she seeks for more; she works by thought through
feeling; yet in thoughts she begins and ends.