Experience teacheth many things, and all men are his scholars: Yet is he a strange tutor, unteaching that which he hath taught. Youth is confident, manhood wary, and old age confident again: Youth is kind, manhood cold, and age returneth unto kindness. For youth suspecteth nought, till manhood, bitterly learned, Mistrusteth all, overleaping the mark; and age correcteth his excess. Suspicion is the scaffold unto faith, a temporary needful eyesore, By which the strong man's dwelling is slowly builded up behind; But soon as the top-stone hath been set to the well-proved goodly edifice, The scaffold is torn down, and timely trust taketh its long leave of suspicion. A thousand volumes in a thousand tongues enshrine the lessons of Experience, Yet a man shall read them all, and go forth none the wiser: For self-love lendeth him a glass, to colour all he conneth, Lest in the features of another he find his own complexion. And we secretly judge of ourselves as differing greatly from all men, And love to challenge causes to show how we can master their effects: Pride is pampered in expecting that we need not fear a common fate, Or wrong-headed prejudice exulteth, in combating old Experience; Or perchance caprice and discontent are the spurs that goad us into danger, Careless, and half in hope to find there an enemy to joust with. Private Experience is an unsafe teacher, for we rarely learn both sides, And from the gilt surface reckon not on steel beneath: The torrid sons of Guinea think scorn of icy seas, And the frostbitten Greenlander disbelieveth suns too hot. But thou, student of Wisdom, feed on the marrow of the matter: If thou wilt suspect, let it be thyself; if thou wilt expect, let it not be gladness. [Illustration: Of Estimating Character] OF ESTIMATING CHARACTER. Rashly, nor ofttimes truly, doth man pass judgment on his brother; For he seeth not the springs of the heart, nor heareth the reasons of the mind. And the world is not wiser than of old, when justice was meted by the sword, When the spear avenged the wrong, and the lot decided the right, When the footsteps of blinded innocence were tracked by burning plough-shares, And the still condemning water delivered up the wizard to the stake: For we wait, like the sage of Salamis, to see what the end will be, Fixing the right or the wrong, by the issues of failure or success. Judge not of things by their events: neither of character by providence; And count not a man more evil, because he is more unfortunate: For the blessings of a better covenant lie not in the sunshine of prosperity, But pain and chastisement the rather show the wise Father's love.