iciency
is the perception of identity. We talk with accomplished persons who
appear to be strangers in nature. The cloud, the tree, the turf, the
bird are not theirs, have nothing of them; the world is only their
lodging and table. But the poet, whose verses are to be spheral
and complete, is one whom Nature cannot deceive, whatsoever face of
strangeness she may put on. He feels a strict consanguinity, and detects
more likeness than variety in all her changes. We are stung by the
desire for new thought; but when we receive a new thought it is only the
old thought with a new face, and though we make it our own we instantly
crave another; we are not really enriched. For the truth was in us
before it was reflected to us from natural objects; and the profound
genius will cast the likeness of all creatures into every product of his
wit.

But if the constructive powers are rare and it is given to few men to
be poets, yet every man is a receiver of this descending holy ghost,
and may well study the laws of its influx. Exactly parallel is the whole
rule of intellectual duty to the rule of moral duty. A self-denial
no less austere than the saint's is demanded of the scholar. He must
worship truth, and forego all things for that, and choose defeat and
pain, so that his treasure in thought is thereby augmented.

God offers to every mind its choice between truth and repose. Take which
you please,--you can never have both. Between these, as a pendulum, man
oscillates. He in whom the love of repose predominates will accept
the first creed, the first philosophy, the first political party
he meets,--most likely his father's. He gets rest, commodity, and
reputation; but he shuts the door of truth. He in whom the love of truth
predominates will keep himself aloof from all moorings, and afloat. He
will abstain from dogmatism, and recognize all the opposite negations
between which, as walls, his being is swung. He submits to the
inconvenience of suspense and imperfect opinion, but he is a candidate
for truth, as the other is not, and respects the highest law of his
being.

The circle of the green earth he must measure with his shoes to find the
man who can yield him truth. He shall then know that there is somewhat
more blessed and great in hearing than in speaking. Happy is the hearing
man; unhappy the speaking man. As long as I hear truth I am bathed by a
beautiful element and am not conscious of any limits to my nature. The
suggestio