arrow rankles in the heart: a joyful messenger going forth upon an embassy of love-a hideous monster howling at the gates of hell. True to the impulse of nature, imagination rushes forth with certain aim, and never brings home sweets to the malevolent, or poison to the pure in heart; but penetrating into paths unknown, gathers riches for the supply of confidence and hope, or collecting its evidence from "trifles light as air," sharpens the pangs of envy and mistrust. There are who treat imagination as a light to be extinguished-a power to be overcome—a demon to be exorcised. But ask the child who sits with sullen brow beneath unnatural discipline, whether imagination is not pointing to flowery paths, and stimulating his unbroken will to seek them in despite of stripes and tears. Ask the self-isolated misanthrope, when lonely and unloved he broods over the dark future and the joyless past, whether imagination does not call up images of social comfort, of friendly intercourse, and "homefelt delight," which his sad solitude can never know. Ask the pale monk whose daily penance drags him to an early grave, whether imagination steals not with the moonbeams into his silent cell, whispering of another heaven than that of which he reads-a heaven even upon earth, to which a broken vow, a church in arms, a name struck out from the community of saints, are in comparison as nothing. Ask the criminal at the gallow's foot, when chains, and judges, and penitence, and priests, have done their utmost to fortify his soul for its last mortal struggle, whether imagination does not paint the picture of his cottage in the wood, with her whose prayers he has neglected, fondly watching for his return, and whether the voices of his children come not on the wandering gale, as they lift their innocent hands to heaven, and bless their father in their evening hymns. Yes; and the stern moralist, who would strike out imagination from the soul of man, must first extinguish the principle of life. What then remains? That those who have the conduct of the infant mind, should seek to stamp it with a living impress of the loveliness of virtue, and the deformity of vice; and that the passions and affections should be so disciplined, that imagination, the busy faculty which must, and will exist, and act, either for happiness or misery, for good or evil, may bring home to the hungry soul food fit for the nourishment of an immortal being, and dispense from out the fulness of a grateful heart, the richest tribute man can offer at the throne of God. 255 POWER. POWER, in connection with the art of writing poetry, admits of two distinctions-as it relates to language and to mind. The former, however, is always dependent upon, and subservient to the latter; but the power of mind may exist where there is little or no facility in the use of appropriate words. Were it possible that powerful language could proceed from an imbecile mind, the effect would be, that of heaping together ponderous words, and incongruous images, so as to extend and magnify confusion, without rendering any single thought impressive. That the force of our ideas must depend in great measure upon the strength of our impressions, is as clear, as that the vividness of a picture must depend upon the colours in which it is painted; but in addition to impression, there is a tide of feeling which flows through the mind of man, in different degrees of velocity and depth, awakening his imagination, stimulating his energies, and supporting him under every intellectual effort. This tide of natural feeling obtains the character of enthusiasm, or power, according to the concomitants with which it operates. If connected with great sensibility, and liveliness of imagination, without clear perceptions, sound judgment, or habits of deep reasoning, it is with strict propriety called enthusiasm; and as such works wonders amongst mankind. Indeed we are indebted to enthusiasm for a great proportion of what is new in theory, and experimental in practice; as well as for most of the astonishing instances of valour, enterprise, and zeal with which the page of history is enlivened and adorned. But enthusiasm, while it partakes of the nature of power in its first impulse, is essentially different in its operation. Enthusiasm in action aims at one point of ardent desire, and regards neither time, nor space, nor difficulty, nor absurdity, in attaining it; while true mental power, in strict alliance with all the highest faculties of the mind, is the im |