The Solitary by these words was touched With manifest emotion, and exclaimed; "But how begin? and whence?--'The Mind is free-- Resolve,' the haughty Moralist would say, 1081 'This single act is all that we demand.' Alas! such wisdom bids a creature fly Whose very sorrow is, that time hath shorn His natural wings!--To friendship let him turn 1085 For succour; but perhaps he sits alone On stormy waters, tossed in a little boat[395] That holds but him, and can contain no more! Religion tells of amity sublime Which no condition can preclude; of One 1090 Who sees all suffering, comprehends all wants, All weakness fathoms, can supply all needs: But is that bounty absolute?--His gifts, Are they not, still, in some degree, rewards For acts of service? Can his love extend 1095 To hearts that own not him? Will showers of grace, When in the sky no promise may be seen, Fall to refresh a parched and withered land? Or shall the groaning Spirit cast her load At the Redeemer's feet?" In rueful tone, 1100 With some impatience in his mien, he spake: Back to my mind rushed all that had been urged To calm the Sufferer when his story closed; I looked for counsel as unbending now; But a discriminating sympathy 1105 Stooped to this apt reply:--[396] "As men from men Do, in the constitution of their souls, Differ, by mystery not to be explained; And as we fall by various ways, and sink One deeper than another, self-condemned, 1110 Through manifold degrees of guilt and shame; So manifold and various are the ways Of restoration, fashioned to the steps Of all infirmity, and tending all To the same point, attainable by all-- 1115 Peace in ourselves, and union with our God. For you, assuredly, a hopeful road[397] Lies open: we have heard from you a voice At every moment softened in its course By tenderness of heart; have seen your eye, 1120 Even like an altar lit by fire from heaven, Kindle before us.--Your discourse this day, That, like the fabled Lethe, wished to flow In creeping sadness, through oblivious shades Of death and night, has caught at every turn 1125 The colours of the sun. Access for you Is yet preserved to principles of truth, Which the imaginative Will upholds In seats of wisdom, not to be approached By the inferior Faculty that moulds, 1130 With her minute and speculative pains, Opinion, ever changing! "I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear