TRANSCENDENTAL.

HOU who put'st thy trust in Seeming,-
Think'st this outward world the Real,
Deem'st all faith, as idly dreaming,
In the great unseen Ideal;

Who, as vain imagination,
Dost despise all not of Sense,
Thou-the Orphan of Creation-
Art the Child of poor Pretence.

Fleeting form hast thou mistaken,

Shadow for the Substance sought;
As from dreams when we awaken,
All most vivid fades to nought.
All thou cheats thyself with, ever
Day by day but mocks thee still;
All thou grasps in strong endeavor,
Turns from doubtful good to ill.

Reason's self, thy proud reliance,

Tells thee plainly things that change, By all sure inductive science,

Have one short, how short a range!

Sad experience, the Teacher,

Adds one word of solemn ken,

To the everlasting Preacher,'All is vanity,'-Amen!

What the gods that thou dost cherish!
Fallen Likenesses are they:

Things that with the using perish,

Brass and marble, wood and clay;

What but Idols, less or greater,—
Fame, Dominion, Beauty, Pelf,

In the place of the Creator,

What are they but forms of Self?

Dagons thou thyself hast fashioned
Out of Creatures deemed most fair,
And, by thine own heart impassioned,
Hast set up to worship there.
Prostrate as of old, the brightest,
Proudest, prove but false and mean,
At one touch, or breath the lightest,
Of th' Ineffable Unseen.

Dost thou dig as to earth's centre?
Dost thou build as to the sky?
Thus the gates of Heaven to enter,
Seize on Immortality?
Hope forlorn,-insensate folly!
Earth itself must soon decay,
One dark page of melancholy,
Wreck by wreck be swept away.

Powers thy sharpest sense outnumber,
Everywhere around lie hid;

In the smallest dew-drop slumber,
Each one grain of sand amid,
Powers, that once let loose, would render
Back to elemental strife,
Alike earth's adamant, or tender
Transient forms of varied life.

O'er all air, and earth, and ocean,
Deep mysterious laws we find,—
In each thing of life and motion,
Still more awful in the mind.
Thousand, thousand daily wonders
Round us everywhere are wrought,
From the tempests' pealing thunders,
To the miracle of Thought.

When thy narrow bounds of vision
Armed by Science' aid expand,
Worlds on worlds of like precision
Crowd each verge on either hand.

All thy other senses witness,

As from grossness purified,

Just where fails their present fitness,
Of an Infinite beside!

How then canst thou, by the Senses,
Judge of what pertains to Soul?
Influenced merely by pretences,

How can Part conceive the Whole?
How canst thou, poor erring Mortal,
Still beneath the veil of sin,
Standing at Creation's portal,

Tell what glories lie within?

When thine arm can grasp the Thunder,
Pierce yon radiant blue Profound,
Guide thy swiftest Wheels of Wonder
O'er thine own horizon's bound,
When the Whence, the Whither tending,
Suns and systems thou dost know;
When thy powers suffice for bending
Heaven's trancendent matchless Bow;

I THINK We may assert, that in a hundred men, there are more than ninety who are what they are, good or bad, useful or pernicious to society, from the instruction they have received. It is on education that depends the great difference observable among them. The least and most imperceptible impressions received in our infancy have consequences very important and of long duration. It is with these first impressions as with a river whose waters we can easily turn, by different canals, in quite opposite courses; so that from the insensible direction the stream receives at its source, it takes different directions, and at last arrives at places far distant from each other: and with the same facility we may, I think, turn the minds of children to what direction we please.-Locke.

A CHRISTMAS STORY FOR THE YOUNG.

The Man that never stopped growing. A Tale for Children and others. By CALIBAN. Chapman, 142, Strand, London. 1851. p. 24.

E have been favored with an early copy of this tale, which teaches a high and wise Lesson of Life, both to old and young, in a style of composition that combines the charms of our antique Saxon, with the graphic eloquence and poetry of our best modern authors. Some children, we know, of no advanced period, will comprehend the symbolism of the story, tho we are not sure this will be the case generally. At all events, where this Tale is not at once appreciated in the Nursery, it will be sure to make its way in the Parlor.

'The Man that never stopped growing' is one of the most original conceptions of the kind, as applied to ethic teaching, that we remember to have met with. The story opens with a portraiture of the Young Aihai, fervid and impetuous, in whose soul the disparity between his wild-hopes and vaulting ambition, and the measure of his immature powers and tender frame, is engendering the evil spirit of Discontent with his actual state, and neglect of his present duties and enjoyments. The ideal and the actual are at war, and the result on his undisciplined nature is thus expressed :

Now, it so happened that Aihai stood, one evening, afar off, and looked upon the city; and he was alone and very lonely; and his soul was bitter. The glebe lay ruddy in the westering sun; and over it the monuments of heroes flung their long shadows to the east; and the elders soberly communed together; and the children were at play; and the laborers crossed hastily homewards; and the young men walked with the maidens and on the skirts of all, the gold of evening hung. But Aihai stood apart as one that had lost his heritage and was disowned of his kin. And he saw the city, and the smoke go up from the many, many houses-homes they were-ah! and amid them all was there none for him? Why was not he too something? Why was not he too, like the rest, pleased in himself, happy in his place?

:

So over the youth the firmament lowered; and his face darkened; and he fled. But, after a while, he sat him down-on a green slope, treeplumed, that took the champaign in, he sat him down, and wept. And, when he had wept, he lifted up his eyes, and cried: 'Ai, ai! I am but as a dwarf, and misbegotten; and I cannot sit among the men!' And again he cried, saying, 'Father, Father! make it otherwise with me! Father, Father! make it otherwise! And he trembled, and was afraid; But, when he had made an end of

for he wist not if he did right or no.

X

speaking, behold! a wind came, and the earth shook, and he fell upon his face. And he heard a voice that spake as from the meeting of the winds and he knew that his wish was given him. And he was astonished, not moving from the spot; but, after a while, he arose, and returned to his own home.

:

And Aihai, in the morning, got up fearful: but, behold! in his stature he had grown; and he was glad in heart; and went forth in merriment. And, all day long, he strode about the streets, exulting; he overlooked this thing, and he measured himself by that. He followed his shadow in the sun; and he delighted himself by the water course. He babbled to himself; and told himself little stories of himself. His stature, which, in the language of men, was now as five feet and four inches, was a good stature, he said,—a sufficient stature; and the men of that stature were squat and square and brawny, with abundant muscle, not despicable of their fellows.

But evening came; and shadows fell; and it was not well with him, even as it had seemed to be. What was his stature, then, that he should be proud of it? or his strength that he should rejoice in it? Not as the tall man was he; not as the strong. His height was not even as that of the middle; his height was not even as that of the most. And he grew bitter as of old; and cursed himself; and said that he should be a dwarf continually. And he wished that he were only as the most-only as they that are named of the average.

And Aihai arose in the morning and stood up; and behold! he had waxed in his sleep; and his stature was as the stature of the most. And his heart was glad; and he was light, elastic, nimble as the very air. O, it was a good height-an excellent height! the height of such a one and such a one, and a whole host of those renowned in the books! A good height! an excellent height! There was spring it; there was breath in it. And he went upon the streets; and he stood by this one, and he stood by that one; and he was pleased to find so many no taller than himself.

But poor Aihai is still over-topped, and overthrown in the wrestling match with the youths of the city. Discontent springs up afresh in his soul, and life is bitter. He grows again and is glad; but again, walking with the maid he loves, he is insulted and beaten by the King's body-guard-for what was one to ten?

But Aihai slept, and was comforted, and arose, and behold! as he stood up, he was six feet high. And he leaped up, and he shouted, Ha! I am strong, strong! with my fist I can fell ye; with my foot I can spurn ye!

But the frame of Aihai ceased not yet awhile from growing; and he was very great and very strong, and more than six feet in his stature. And he sought his foes; and, one by one, he conquered them; till the