minded of their subjection, and stir not from their secret haunts. Thus does Divine Providence, even through forms of superstition, insinuate profound and heavenly truths:—thus does He guide a poet's wayward fancies into paths leading to religion and to God.
And, in truth, is it not really guidance? Is it not inspiration and suggestion, rather than self-derivation? Are not these thoughts introduced and presented to the poet's consciousness by a Power distinct from himself? We hear people speak of thoughts "springing up" in the mind. But what, in fact, is meant by that expression? What causes thoughts to spring up? can any one tell? Is the thought an independent living thing, that knows its time, and starts up and presents itself, when it sees its time has come? Even under that supposition, the point is proved, that this springing up of thoughts is independent of the writer's volition—which certainly is the fact, as all authors know. Winged thoughts and fancies, like these, the writer does not marshal and call out from their ranks at his own bidding at all: they come of themselves, or at least without any premeditation or call on the poet's part. But, if ideas are not independent powers and existences, but only messengers, then who sends them? That they are sent, indeed, is certain; for their "springing up" in the mind is only an appearance: the expression means simply that they are suddenly presented to the mind. But how and whence? This question human reason cannot answer: here man's philosophy is at a stand. The only solution of the problem is that which is given by Divine Revelation, namely, that good and true thoughts are presented from above,—evil and false ones from beneath: the one class, messengers from the
