tions of good beyond aught that can be found in this earthly life,—so that man may not rest completely satisfied with any sublunary joys, but may still look forward and press onward to the glories of eternity? Indeed can any high hopes and bright thoughts be presented to man's mind, unless their prototypes have a real existence somewhere? Is not truth declared to be "stranger than fiction?" Is not God's imagination greater than man's? and God's imaginations (if the expression may be used) all go forth into realities, if not in the natural world, in the spiritual and eternal—if not on earth, in heaven: for God is an all-powerful Creator, and what He thinks. He does.
Such may be considered the true and high source of youth's bright visions; they are lights let down from heaven, as beacons to his path. And though mingled, as those visions doubtless too often are, with thoughts and wishes gross and selfish, it is certain that they are the source of great delights, and of such as are peculiar to that period of life. And what a zest do those hopes and fancies give to all the studies, exertions, and pursuits proper to that age! The young aspirant to literary excellence, for instance, has ever before his mind the images of Shakspeare and Milton, of Addison and Johnson, and the host of distinguished minds that have instructed and delighted the world with their compositions. And while he calls to memory the motto on the copy-books of his childhood,
""Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb
The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar?"
a longing desire and burning hope is kindled within him, one day himself to reach that Temple of Fame, and stand there before the admiring gaze of mankind.
