throne the sense of duty within us. There are no limits to the growth of this moral force in man, if he will cherish it faithfully. There have been men whom no power in the universe could turn from the right; to whom, death in its most dreadful forms, has been less dreaded than transgression of the inward law of universal justice and love. CHANNING 69. The Ideas of the Divine Mind, the Origin of every Quality pleasing to the Imagination. FROM heaven my strains begin; from heaven descends And love and beauty, and poetic joy And inspiration. Ere the radiant sun Sprang from the east, or 'mid the vault of night The moon suspended her serener lamp; Ere mountains, woods, or streams adorned the globe, The forms eternal, of created things— The mountains, woods, and streams, the rolling globe, Hence the green earth and wild, resounding waves; But not alike to every mortal eye Is this great scene unveiled; for since the claims The active powers of man, - with wise intent The Mind supreme. They also feel her charms, AKENSIDE Mark Akenside, the author of the "Pleasures of the Imagination," one of the most pure and noble-minded poets of the age, was born at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, November 9, 1721. He was of humble origin, and was sent to Edinburgh in his eighteenth year, to be educated as a clergyman, but afterwards changed his purpose, and entered himself as a student of medicine. He was then a poet, and in his "Hymn to Science,' written in Edinburgh, we see at once the formation of his classic taste, and the dignity of his personal character: "That last, best effort of thy skill To form the life and rule the will- "Raise me above the vulgar's breath, Still let my actions speak the man, Through every various scene." His great poem is seldom read continuously, though its finer passages are well known. - Chambers's Cyclopedia. 70. Education. To THE child comes into life ignorant and imbecile. With faculties which, duly trained, fit him to traverse the universe of truth, he yet begins his course a helpless stranger. him this universe is all a mighty maze without a plan. is a stranger alike to himself, to the world, and to God. But daily his faculties open; his intellectual eye begins to turn towards the light of truth, as his organic eye turns towards the sunbeam that falls across his chamber. His senses— those fleet messengers-carry to him constant intelligence from the world without. Soon he comes to remember and compare these reports to reason and resolve. His mind now yearns after more knowledge. Through the livelong day, save when tired nature claims repose, he is busy seeking, or receiving with unexpected delight, new accessions of truth. All the while his faculties of memory and comparison, of judgment and abstraction, of generalization and inference, are in exercise; and, though no book opens its mysterious light upon his understanding, nor living voice pours into his ear the fruits of another's experience and knowledge, he is still for himself a learner. Yet such a progress - which is only instinctive and spontaneous plainly needs direction, and will, if left to itself, soon reach its utmost limit. The forlorn condition of the untutored deaf mute shows how meagre and deceptive are the attainments of every unaided mind; and even where such a barrier has not been interposed by nature, we find that those who have been left without formal instruction soon become stationary, and that their minds are crowded with errors and prejudices. - It is the province of education of a system of training and tuition conducted by rule—to take this restless spirit, rejoicing in the consciousness of its awakened powers, and thirsting for knowledge, and to conduct it, for a time, along the straight path of true wisdom. For why was that spirit, in the very outset of its course, made so helpless? Why was it deprived of those instincts which conduct the inferior animals infallibly to their being's end and aim? Why attached for months to a mother's breast, and afterwards sheltered and kept in life and health only by unceasing vigilance and care? Why, but to engage all a parent's energies in its nurture and full development; or, rather, why, but to engage them in fitting it for the unending work of self-development? The brute needs but a few powers, for it has but few wants, and they are to last but a few years. Man has wants and desires as boundless as his own immortality. To educate the intellect, then, is to so unfold, direct, and strengthen it, that it shall be prepared to be, through all its future course, a zealous and successful seeker after truth. It is to give it control of its own powers, and to teach it towards what those powers should be directed. It is to endow it by practice with the ability to collect its energies at will, and to fix them long on one point. It is to train the senses to observe accurately; the memory to register carefully and recall readily; the reason to compare, reflect, and judge without partiality or passion. It is to infuse into the soul a principle of enduring activity and curiosity, such that it shall ever be awake in quest of light, never counting itself to have apprehended, but pressing continually forward towards higher truths and a larger knowledge. Again, man begins life without virtue. He has propensities that urge him to self-gratification, affections that impel him to gratify others, and moral instincts that incline him to duty. But, left to himself and without culture, his propensities predominate; the affections spend themselves in capricious acts of kindness or charity; and the moral instincts raise, without effect, their solemn and monitory voice. It is the office of moral education to harmonize these contending and irregular powers, by restoring conscience to its rightful authority, and by replacing unreflecting impulses with fixed and enlightened principles. It is its business to cultivate habits which make man master of himself, and which enable him, even when pressed by fierce temptation, to prefer loss, disgrace, and death itself, before dishonor. "The great principle and foundation of all virtue," says Locke, "lies in this—that a man is able to deny himself his own desires, cross his own inclinations, and purely follow what reason directs as best, though the appetite lean the other way." Again, man begins life without taste. Through his senses, he is early attracted and charmed by what he terms beautiful. As he advances in years, these impressions, made by outward objects, blend themselves with remembrances of the past, and with creations of the mind itself. The result is seen in conceptions which bear away the soul from the imperfections and trials of actual life, to a world of imagined purity, beauty, and bliss. Now, in the untutored mind, these conceptions are rude and often uncouth. It is the province of education to give them form and symmetry, to teach the true difference between |