MENTAL SYMMETRY. 169 Original. MENTAL SYMMETRY. BY S. COMFORT. Within the range of a certain though beautiful variety, she seldom if ever violates her own rules of action in her own operations. But there is another view of the bearing and importance of this law, or principle, worthy of vastly more consideration. It is the application of this element of perfection and beauty, this law of nature, to mind. If it stand out in such bold relief in all material things, have we not reason to look for it also in man, the noblest work of God, and in the mind, the noblest part of man? If we see it so strikingly in his corporeal part, may we not expect to find living and deep traces PROPORTION is an important element of beauty in the works of both nature and art. Order in the succession of events, and proportion in the adjustment of parts, are features in nature too prominent not to attract the notice of the attentive and devout observer of the works and ways of the great Architect and Governor of the universe. "Order is Heaven's first law." It is legibly written on all the visible creation. Its vast im- of the same law in his far more exalted and imperishaportance is seen in the fact that, without assuming the uniformity of nature's laws as the basis of his superstructure, the philosopher would have no fixed point, much less a broad and solid basis, on which to rest his system of either natural, mental, or moral philosophy. The term order, however, is not used in the sense of method in arrangement, but in that of regularity of motion, or succession. Hence, all objects to which the idea of motion, in equal or successive periods of time, can be attached, belong to that class to which the term, in the sense of regularity of motion, or the succession of events, may be applied. Of this idea of order, the revolution of the planets, producing successive day and night, and the regular return of the seasons, are familiar examples. ble part-that which crowns the whole-his intellectual nature? Doubtless, we are authorized to look for it here. To view the mental nature of man, as he was created, is the only view which discovers the perfection of its workmanship. That there was originally not only the utmost harmony between all the different faculties and endowments of the soul, but at the same time the most perfect symmetry between them as a whole, cannot for a moment be questioned, without impeaching both the wisdom and goodness by which this specimen of the Divine workmanship was executed. And that one effect of the "first transgression" was to disturb this pleasing harmony, and to impair this perfect symmetry in all the powers of the soul, is, to the well instructed in the inspired records of his own being, equally certain. Possibly the immediate and continued effect of sin has been more disastrous to the mind by throwing darkness and confusion over the understanding, by dis But symmetry is a feature no less prominent in the visible creation than that of order. Indeed, there is a perceptible connection between them; at least, the contemplation of each is adapted to produce similar emo-turbing the gentle and peaceful play and balance of the tions in the mind. In nature, how exactly is one thing affections, and by blunting and perverting the moral adapted to another, both as to the relations of time and feelings, than to the corporeal system, by inducing feeof magnitude! While there is no confusion or de- bleness, disease, and death. For these last mentioned rangement as to order, neither is there disparity as to evils, or effects of sin, there is no remedy but "the proportion. This immutable law of being is indelibly resurrection of the just." But this is not the case with inscribed on every material object. In the animal king- the mind. The intellectual and moral effects of sin dom it may be traced along the whole scale of existence, may find a remedy during our probation. Indeed, for from the almost microscopic mite through all the inter- this special purpose a continued probation has been exvening series up to the huge Mastadon, or the more re- tended to fallen man. And for this purpose a restoring cently discovered Missourian, known only by fossil re-system is now in efficient and successful operation. mains. In the vegetable kingdom the same is seen by This system consists of several distinct parts, as might comparing the dwarfish lichen with the oak, sycamore, be inferred from its being a system, which, indeed, is or the lofty pine. Not only does the scale of propor-nothing else than the harmony of agencies, instrumention between the different species rise one above another|| talities, and influences, in one compact and harmonifrom the lowest to the highest, but the law of symme-zing whole for the attainment of a certain and specific try holds equally good with regard to the different and end. Contemplate this system in some of its parts and relative parts of the individual example of the same species. bearings. It is not important to our present purpose to describe it by a specific term, provided its nature and design are well understood. Nor do we know any single term which exactly expresses the idea we intend. Education comes nearest; but this is defective. It is specially so in the moral view of the subject. And be And why may we not look for the same law of symmetry in man? In his corporeal nature it is obvious. We have the dwarfish Esquimaux, with all the intervening grades, till the series terminates in the gigantic Patagonian. And though we do not, in every inter-cause education, merely, cannot do that for the mind vening class, nor in every individual of the same class, which must be done for it in order to restore its original find the perfect symmetry seen in the best model for symmetry and perfection, it may go far, in some rethe statuary, yet, when left to do her own work, nature spects, to the accomplishment of this important object; seldom fails to conform, with great exactness, to what at least, it may pave the way for its attainment-prowe have regarded as one of her own capital laws.vided, however, education is what it should be in its VOL. III.-22 170 MENTAL SYMMETRY. character, otherwise it only obstructs the way, and | steadily to pursue the chosen path or object. When renders the mental disproportion and distortion the this faculty is not duly strengthened, there is neither greater. To illustrate these important thoughts will be firmness nor decision of character, nor self-government, our grand object while we engross the reader's attention but, like a ship without anchor, sail, helm, or pilot, left with the subject. to the sport of the winds and the mercy of the storm. Without the due culture of this faculty, the mind is pliant, fluctuating, hesitating, stubborn, inflexible, or capricious. But when this holds due proportion with other faculties, the mental symmetry is perfect, the person is seen pursuing that line of consistent and harmonious action which accords with his rational and accountable nature. When this is not the case the conduct is perverse, inconsistent, paradoxical-at one time rash and presumptuous, then exhibiting obliquity and willful delinquency. Apply the same principle to the affections. They should all be duly unfolded, directed, exercised, and be unduly cherished, the judgment giving no direction in the choice of the object, the proper height of the emotion, or the suitableness of the occasion when it shall be indulged, and weakness or extravagance will be the consequence. On the contrary let resentment be indulged without the necessary guards, checks, and restraints of conscience, reason, and self-control, and it will harden into sour repulsiveness, censoriousness, bitterness, if not revenge itself. Let that self-respect which loses sight of our own foibles, frailties, and ill deserts, be cherished, and it will swell into sheer vanity, exposing us to a thousand tormenting mortifications, because the estimation in which others will hold us, though, perhaps, much nearer the truth, will fall far below our own. To see this in the clearest light, a brief, general view may be taken of the human mind. It is a simple, indefinable, indestructible substance, like its great Author, known only by the development of its attributes or faculties. These we shall comprehend under four classes: faculties of the understanding, those of emotion, those of volition, and the moral faculties. To enter into any proper analysis of either, comes not within our present limits or design. But here we see the province and scope of education. As the term implies, it is to unfold or develop the faculties with which the mind is endowed. And here the immense importance of unfolding them all in due proportion cannot fail to sug-controlled. Let even the more benevolent and amiable gest itself. In different minds, special attention must be directed to the development of different faculties, in order that the due proportion of each shall be secured in the symmetry of the whole mind. For illustration, let the reasoning faculty be neglected for the cultivation of the imagination, and the mental symmetry is destroyed. The effect is the same when the judgment or the memory is cultivated to the expense of the imagination. When there is undue attention devoted to the memory, the native resources of the intellect will remain undeveloped. They will remain unknown to the person himself as well as others. He will never depend on himself-he will never be original-he will always be like the borrower, "a servant to the lender." When the indulging of the imagination too far has grown into a settled taste or feature of the mind, the unreal creations of fancy are apt to usurp the empire of the understanding, and dethrone reason itself, bringing the whole mind under a most fickle and despotic tyrant. The person soon conceives a wretched and morbid aversion to patient, cool, sedulous investigation; and "works of imagination," as they are called, are preferred and sought after in preference to sober, solid, matter-of-fact productions. The common, plain scenes of real, nay, but too often those of virtuous, useful life, are disrelished, because they are too tame and too insipid. There is not enough of novelty and of fancy thrown around them; because it is the office of the imagination to invest every thing it touches with not only vivacity but the new and the striking. Nor would it be strange if such a mind should soon become unable to view the mere facts of science and history, or even of religion, in any other light or feeling than one bordering on perfect indifference or positive disgust. How great the want of symmetry in such a mental portrait! For another illustration take the faculty of volition. The will is regarded as being one of the first principles of action. It is its office to direct and fix the attention, to suspend the judgment till the person has duly deliberated; and when all the evidence in the case is heard and canvassed, and the truth or duty decided, Look at the effect, should our anticipations of future good or evil-no matter which-unduly preponderate. In one case we are always apprehensive the worst aspect of things is always toward ourselves. The shades of the picture become still more sombre by the creations of an active and unchastened imagination, or a skittish and wayward fancy. Such a mind invests every thing it contemplates with its own gloomy hues. Refusing the encouragement the true state of the case really affords, it flings the bitterest herb into the cup of affliction, already sufficiently acrid. But suppose our anticipations of future good are too sanguine, then real contingencies will be overlooked. There will not be due effort to remove such impediments as really interpose. Contrary to the true perspective philosophy, the object will appear larger as it is more distant-we shall feel certain of its attainment in proportion to its remoteness. The consequence most likely to follow is that, instead of the object anticipated, we shall embrace disappointment as to its attainment, or its enjoy ment. But when hope and fear are symmetrical, both extremes will be avoided. There is another view of this subject still more important-it is the moral symmetry of the mind. That every sound mind possesses moral faculties, as well as those of the other classes, is held as being unquestionable. And if any who shall favor these thoughts source, the sum of our highest happiness throughout our improving and endless being. But, defective in this crowning excellence, in how hand, and who, but for this defect, might have won for themselves an enviable name and reward for their usefulness in the world. With characteristic integrity, zeal, and benevolence, they seize some principle, doctrine, truth, duty, or mode of doing good, and not knowing pletely changed into something else. It is removed from its foundation, turned out of its course, or something quite foreign from the original principle or question is foisted in, leading to a result wide from the one in view at the starting point. The mind loses its balance, and a sort of monomania ensues; because truth itself, when carried too far, is turned into or is mixed with error. Right, without regard to circumstances, in a thousand conceivable cases, may easily slide into wrong. Hence, there is nothing more important in tracing a doctrine, principle, or course of moral action, than to know when and where to stop, no less so than to know where to begin, or how to detect and correct any obliquity from the line or path in the procedure. The largest continent has its limits. But if one regardless of this fact heed with a perusal, really doubt this, all we shall now reply is, we do not write for such readers. But if moral endowments are admitted to be elements in our natures, as much as any others which distinguish many minds do we see a constant tendency to extravaour minds, then the importance of their due develop-gance, delusion, bigotry, or ultraism of some sort. We ment follows as a matter of course; because we are are pained sometimes to find examples of this in perthen moral no less than intellectual beings. In our sons on whom the richest blessings of nature, Provioriginal state the moral features in man were as promi-dence, and grace have been poured with an unsparing nent as any others in his character. But now in no other respect is the disproportion greater. And here a cardinal truth presents itself, which should never be forgotten that it is not in the power of unassisted education, in due proportion, to unfold the moral faculties of the soul. It is only a subordinate instrumentality. | where to stop, its nature, no matter what it is, is comAn agency more potent must be exerted; and, happy for us, this agency generally anticipates the influence of every other. It is the Holy Spirit. It is proffered and ever present to all who are willing to yield to its restoring influence. Man was not designed to exist in alienation and estrangement from his God. He is not adapted so to exist. And the due development of his moral nature, as we now use the term, includes his restoration both to the Divine favor and image-the restoration of the soul to that mental and moral symmetry in which it was created. This is a point of eternal moment. Here the want of symmetry is seen in too many educated minds. All other faculties are well unfolded. But in this respect, where there should be expansion there is vacancy-where there should be living, moving, breathing, vital strength and action, there||lessly rush on, he must soon fall over some precipice, is a dreadful moral paralysis. Instead of pure, melting love to God and man, peace in believing, and joy in the Holy Ghost, there is nought but unquenched thirst for the supreme good, and a fruitless and disappointed effort to fill a constitutional, moral void in the soul with something besides its God. Restore the symmetry and you reverse the character. Now there is no defect, no despondency. The soul, both mentally and morally, has recovered from its fall. Such a soul vies with angels. They have never suffered the withering and distorting touch of sin. To their perfect examples of mental and moral symmetry it is the privilege of the human mind to enjoy full conformity. But is not this saying too much? Understand us. We do not say we do not mean, that man shall have an angel's grasp of intellect. But why may he not attain as full conformity, in his perfect moral rectitude, to his eternal moral relations as they enjoy? And then, when the fountains of thought, will, and affection, and all the springs of action, are perfectly cleansed, as the great Teacher himself has taught, we shall "do the will of God on earth as it is done in heaven;" that is, with as much integrity of principle, and purity of motive-with as much harmony and elevation of affection-with as much fixedness and steadiness of purpose, according to our capacity, as those who worship before the throne. This is our duty-this is our privilege. And will not this be our attainment when every faculty of the soul shall be equally and duly unfolded? This is perfect mental symmetry-this is the glory of our natures, the or plunge into the billows which break upon the coast. But due mental symmetry would have cured the temerity, and prevented the disaster. Were this a living trait in the character of all minds, how much cruel and unreasonable prejudice—how many wild outbreaks of passion-how much agitation and strife—how many mad and delusive speculations-how many blighting and mournful religious errors of both faith and practice— how much of disappointment, crime, wretchedness, and suffering would be swept from the earth, and banished from human nature! Man would regain the forfeited happiness of Eden-supreme love to his God, and kindest fraternal affection to every fellow creature, however fallen and degraded, would again enkindle in his heart, while his Maker would again look with benign complacency on the noblest work of his hands, and again pronounce it "good." DECENCY IN DRESS. WOMEN should not confine their attention of dress to their public appearance. They should accustom So that in the most themselves to a habitual neatness. careless undress, in the most unguarded hours, they may have no reason to be ashamed of their appearance. They will not easily believe how much men consider their dress, as expressive of their characters; vanity, levity, slovenliness, and folly appear through it. An elegant simplicity is an equal proof of taste and delicacy. 172 HER SUN SET EARLY. panions, and all the innocent hilarities of youth. Yet she had borne it patiently. The force of the disease had abated, though its seeds still remained in her frame. She had so far recovered that she was again mingling in the scenes adapted to her age and taste. Her youthful spirit had not been broken under her confinement; and, full of buoyant animation, she was the life, the idol of the household. Her early sickness and meek submission had enlisted the sympathies and affections of every one on her behalf; and when restored to health, her cheerfulness and buoyancy riveted these HER SUN SET EARLY. THE hour was late. I was sitting alone in my little study. The paper on which I had been writing lay spread out before me. My pen rested between my thumb and finger, and I attempted to carry through the train of thought with which I had been occupied. The attempt was fruitless; the wearied mind was unbent, and wandering thoughts chased each other across the brain, till almost perfect chaos reigned within. To revive the exhausted powers and recall the wayward thoughts, I turned to the window and looked out on the night. It was autumn. The moon rode in merid-affections more strongly upon her. Thus she became ian beauty in the sky, on whose clear blue expanse not a cloud floated. The prospect opening to my eye calmed and soothed my weary mind. The long lines of overshadowing elms adorning the highway were bathed in the gorgeous moonlight; their leaves, "just turning from summer verdure to autumn gray," were motionless, as if spell-bound by night's heavy slumber. The neighboring church shot its snowy spire toward heaven, and on the distant hills and elevations were scattered the cottages and dwellings composing the village. All was silent; not a murmur of human voice was heard; not a leaf rustled on the bough; the rippling of a distant water-fall alone reached the ear. I gazed till I forgot my weariness, and the heart was moved to harmony with the scene. At length I turned back to my unfinished task, but the page was dim; the train of thought had passed away. Almost unconsciously I revolved the pages of a manuscript record lying on my table: it was my parochial register. My eye fell upon the record of deaths and funerals. A name dear to the heart arrested my careless gaze, and by the mighty though mysterious power of association the scenes and events of by-gone days rose up before the mind. There was something in the hour, something in the state of the mind, and more than all, in the view from my window, at which I had been gazing, that touched and waked the memories of the heart. I yielded to the emotion, and the history I am about to sketch was seen, as when in real life, fleeting before my eye. the universal favorite; happy herself, and diffusing happiness round her: like the beautiful rose which opens to the sunshine, and sheds its fragrance on the air. Her health became so far established that she left home for school. While there, she found new friends, whose affections she won as she had those of the companions of earlier days. Her family hoped she would outgrow all tendencies to the disease from which she had already suffered so much. This hope was strengthened on her return home, after some months' absence, when her health was good, and promised to remain so. The parents of this young lady were pious; and she had been religiously educated. What her feelings were during her first illness I do not know; but she evidently had that respect for religion, and that general belief in its necessity and importance which are usually seen in children placed from early years under religious influence. She had however no abiding impressions of eternal things till after her return from school. I had been called away from my labors, and was obliged to seek another land, in consequence of the prostration of my strength. During this painful and somewhat protracted absence, God favored my little flock with a season of spiritual refreshing. At this time her mind was affected. Her views of sin were clear and strong, and her impressions of truth deep and lasting. But her views of a Savior's love and power were not as clear and bright; and she hardly dared indulge the hope that she had received the forgiveness of sin, and passed from death to life. In this state of darkness labor. She could never speak of herself without tears. A cloud, not altogether dark, but yet sufficient to obscure the light, seemed to dim her vision. Yet to her friends she was changed, greatly changed. She had lost her love of the gay world, had become constant in the private duties of religion, gave very marked evidence of a tender conscience, and earnestly sought, as the great object of desire, for witness of a real union with Christ. Long and tenderly her friends labored with her; but her mind was dark; she was fearful of self-deception. She seemed, however, slowly to emerge from the cloud, when she removed from my parochial charge, and took up her residence in another town. The name on that record was that of a young lady fondly loved and deeply lamented by a large circle of || and perplexity I found her on my return to my field of relatives and friends. When I first saw her, in the earliest years of my mind, she was just bursting into womanhood. She still retained in every lineament the sweet grace and expression of child-like innocence, though her form and features were rounding into the more mature loveliness of woman. She was as a bud half blown, delicate, and beautiful, whose charms promise yet fuller expansion. Her history was not without interest. She was the daughter of wealthy parents-one of a large family, and had received every attention they could give. But in early life she was visited with lingering disease: it was of the most painful and excruciating kind, affecting one of her limbs so that for a long season she could not put her foot to the ground. In the very spring-time of life, it shut her up from the glad air, the springing flowers, the gay com During her absence at school she became acquainted with a young man who won her affections, and whose offer of marriage, with the consent of her friends, she HER SUN SET EARLY. 173 accepted. The course of their love ran smooth. They returned to the old mansion, and she came with them. were well adapted to each other. Her gentle spirit, She was feeble and emaciated; beautiful, indeed, but and timid, quiet disposition formed a delightful contrast not as on the morn of her nuptials. The glow of to his more active and fearless temperament. He health was fled, and every line of her countenance told watched her as the gardener watches the tenderest and of severe and protracted suffering. Her mind was still choicest flower of his parterre, that the sun may not often under a cloud. Many doubts as to her spiritual scorch, nor the rain drown it. The months rolled hap- state agitated her; and rarely did she speak of herself pily on, till the day of their nuptials came. I never without tears; but not a murmuring word fell from her shall forget that scene. It is present now. The youth lips. She meekly bowed to the rod, and submissively ful grace of the bride; so delicate in her form, so child- drank of the cup her Father gave her. At times, she like in her features, as she stood before me that morn- apparently revived. Her disorder, like all chronic dising to plight her troth to the man of her choice. Eve- eases, assumed deceitful aspects; and with something ry prospect was fair. It was life's sunniest dream that of her former animation she mingled in the family ciropened before her. A father's blessing; a mother's cle. In one of these favored seasons her husband carwarm prayer; a sister's fond kiss; a brother's cordial || ried her to a neighboring village to see an aged relative, greeting-all were hers. And the hand she pressed and to enjoy a little change of scene and air. The clasped hers in true faith; and the vows she spake were ride apparently revived her spirits, and she appeared so answered by vows sincere as her own. There was no much better, and so happy in the change of place, that darkness in her sky. It was a morning without clouds; her husband decided to leave her there a few weeks, and her face, though an anxious line might be faintly while he attended to some business in a distant state. traced as she bade farewell to the home of her youth, Soon, however, the deceitful symptoms changed into told that hope was whispering peace to her soul. Nev- the indications of speedy death. I was summoned to er did I utter a warmer prayer than when I sought the her dying bed. It was a solemn scene: there were Divine blessing on that fair young bride. And yet many trying circumstances; her husband and father there was a shade of sadness on my heart; a secret, were both absent, and she was from home. Yet she unbidden, unwelcome thought that these bright pros- uttered no complaint; she desired only to bear patiently pects were deceitful-these fair hopes delusive. all God's allotments; and prayed only that he would I saw her afterward in her new home. She was give her clear evidence of his presence in the hour of happy there. Her mind had been relieved of its shades need. I bowed by her bed in prayer, and she herself and gloom, so that she had united with the visible responded to the petition. The dark cloud was not Church of Christ. The lurking disease in her frame wholly removed from her mind, yet she did not fear. showed its existence there; and several times, for weeks She trusted, but desired more evidence that her trust together, she was confined to her chamber. Her conwas not in vain. After she had lost the power of arstitution at length sank under these repeated trials. ticulating distinctly, save in broken sentences, she During the last winter she kept house, an aged relative looked up to me, with an expression I can never forget, of her husband was an inmate of the family. He had and whispered, "Did you say any thing?" I anbeen a minister, and was a spiritual, godly man. Un-swered, "No, I did not speak." "But I thought," der the infirmities of age and lingering disease he grad-replied she, "I heard some one say, the way is sure, ually failed till the time of his departure came In all his sickness, and in the last struggles, faith and hope were strong, and "his end was peace." During his protracted sufferings she had watched over him with unwearied kindness; but the exhausting labor was too much for her feeble frame, and soon after his death her husband took her on a long journey. They traveled among the mountains of New Hampshire. In the midst of this pure air and beautiful scenery her health and strength returned, and he hoped all would be well. But suddenly her old complaint seized her, and she was obliged to stop at a public house in the little village of L—, where she remained, suffering most excruciating pain for several months. The village is beautiful and retired, and the kind-hearted people there did every thing in their power for the young stranger. Her husband remained with her; and her mother, at her earnest entreaty, repaired to the spot, and spent several of the last weeks with her. As soon as she could be removed, her husband carried her to her father's house, who, since her marriage, had removed to the city of B I did not see her for several months. The family the way is sure." "O yes," said I, "Christ is the |