cts. The death of a dear
friend, wife, brother, lover, which seemed nothing but privation,
somewhat later assumes the aspect of a guide or genius; for it commonly
operates revolutions in our way of life, terminates an epoch of
infancy or of youth which was waiting to be closed, breaks up a wonted
occupation, or a household, or style of living, and allows the formation
of new ones more friendly to the growth of character. It permits or
constrains the formation of new acquaintances and the reception of new
influences that prove of the first importance to the next years; and the
man or woman who would have remained a sunny garden-flower, with no room
for its roots and too much sunshine for its head, by the falling of the
walls and the neglect of the gardener is made the banian of the forest,
yielding shade and fruit to wide neighborhoods of men.

*****

SPIRITUAL LAWS.

The living Heaven thy prayers respect,
House at once and architect,
Quarrying man's rejected hours,
Builds therewith eternal towers;
Sole and self-commanded works,
Fears not undermining days,
Grows by decays,
And, by the famous might that lurks
In reaction and recoil,
Makes flame to freeze, and ice to boil;
Forging, through swart arms of Offence,
The silver seat of Innocence.

IV. SPIRITUAL LAWS.

When the act of reflection takes place in the mind, when we look
at ourselves in the light of thought, we discover that our life is
embosomed in beauty. Behind us, as we go, all things assume pleasing
forms, as clouds do far off. Not only things familiar and stale, but
even the tragic and terrible are comely as they take their place in the
pictures of memory. The river-bank, the weed at the water-side, the
old house, the foolish person, however neglected in the passing, have
a grace in the past. Even the corpse that has lain in the chambers has
added a solemn ornament to the house. The soul will not know either
deformity or pain. If in the hours of clear reason we should speak the
severest truth, we should say that we had never made a sacrifice. In
these hours the mind seems so great that nothing can be taken from us
that seems much. All loss, all pain, is particular; the universe remains
to the heart unhurt. Neither vexations nor calamities abate our
trust. No man ever stated his griefs as lightly as he might. Allow for
exaggeration in the most patient and sorely ridden hack tha