Tho kindled by Thy light, in vain would try
To trace Thy counsels, infinite and dark:

And thought is lost ere thought can soar so high,
Even like past moments in eternity.

Thou from primeval nothingness didst call
First chaos, then existence:-Lord! on Thee
Eternity had its foundation:-all

Sprung forth from Thee:-of light, joy, harmony, Sole origin :—all life, all beauty Thine.

Thy word created all, and doth create;

Thy splendor fills all space with rays divine.
Thou art, and wert, and shalt be! Glorious! Great!
Light-giving, life-sustaining Potentate!

Thy chains the unmeasured universe surround,
Upheld by Thee, by Thee inspired with breath!
Thou the beginning with the end hast bound,
And beautifully mingled life and death!
As sparks mount upward from the fiery blaze,
So suns are born, so worlds sprung forth from Thee:
And as the spangles in the sunny rays

Shine round the silver snow, the pageantry
Of heaven's bright army glitters in Thy praise.

A million torches lighted by Thy hand
Wander unwearied through the blue abyss:
They own Thy power, accomplish Thy command,
All gay with life, all eloquent with bliss.
What shall we call them? Piles of crystal light-
A glorious company of golden streams-
Lamps of celestial ether, burning bright—

Suns lighting systems with their joyous beams? But Thou to these art as the noon to night.

Yes! as a drop of water in the sea,

All this magnificence in Thee is lost:

What are ten thousand worlds compared to Thee? And what am I then? Heaven's unnumbered host, Tho multiplied by myriads, and arrayed

In all the glory of sublimest thought, Is but an atom in the balance; weighed

Against Thy greatness, is a cipher brought Against infinity! Oh, what am I then? Nought!

Nought! yet the effluence of Thy light divine,
Pervading worlds, hath reached my bosom, too;
Yes! in my spirit doth Thy spirit shine,

As shines the sunbeam in a drop of dew.
Nought! yet I live, and on hope's pinions fly
Eager toward Thy presence; for in Thee
I live, and breathe, and dwell; aspiring high,
Even to the throne of Thy divinity.

I am, O God! and surely Thou must be!

The chain of being is complete in me;

In me is matter's last gradation lost, And the next step is spirit-Deity!

I can command the lightning, and am dust!

A monarch, and a slave; a worm, a god!

Whence came I here? and how so marvelously Constructed and conceived? unknown! this clod Lives surely through some higher energy;

For from itself alone it could not be !

Creator, yes! Thy wisdom and Thy word
Created me! Thou source of life and good!
Thou spirit of my spirit, and my Lord!

Thy light, Thy love, in their bright plentitude
Filled me with an immortal soul, to spring
Over the abyss of death, and bade it wear
The garments of eternal day, and wing

Its heavenly flight beyond this little sphere,
Even to its source-to Thee-its Author there.

O thoughts ineffable! O visions blest!

Tho worthless our conceptions all of Thee,
Yet shall Thy shadowed image fill our breast,
And waft its homage to Thy Deity.
God! thus alone my lonely thoughts can soar;
Thus seek Thy presence, Being wise and good!
Midst Thy vast works admire, obey, adore;
And when the tongue is eloquent no more,
The soul shall speak in tears of gratitude.

THE LITTLE STOWAWAY

"'Bout three years ago, afore I got this berth as I'm in now, I was second engineer aboard a Liverpool steamer bound for New York. There'd been a lot of extra cargo sent down just at the last minute, and we'd had no end of a job stowin' it away, and that ran us late o' startin'; so that, altogether, you may think, the cap'n warn't in the sweetest temper in the world, nor the mate neither. On the mornin' of the third day out from Liverpool, the chief

engineer cum down to me in a precious hurry, and says he: "Tom, what d'ye think? Blest if we ain't found a stowaway!'

"I didn't wait to hear no more, but up on deck like a skyrocket; and there I did see a sight, and no mistake. Every man-Jack o' the crew, and what few passengers we had aboard, was all in a ring on the fo'c'stle, and in the middle was the fust mate, lookin' as black as thunder. Right in front of him, lookin' a reg'lar mite among them big fellers, was a little bit o' a lad not ten year old-ragged as a scarecrow, but with bright, curly hair, and a bonnie little face o' his own, if it hadn't been so woful thin and pale. The mate was a great hulkin' black-bearded feller with a look that 'ud ha' frightened a horse, and a voice fit to make one jump through a keyhole; but the young un warn't a bit afeard he stood straight up, and looked him full in the face with them bright, clear eyes o' his'n, for all the world as if he was Prince Halferd himself. You might ha' heerd a pin drop, as the mate spoke.

“'Well, you young whelp,' says he, 'what's brought you here?'

"It was my stepfather as done it,' says the boy, in a weak little voice, but as steady as could be. 'Father's dead, and mother's married again, and my new father says as how he won't have no brats about eatin' up his wages; and he stowed me away when nobody warn't lookin', and guv me some grub to keep me goin' for a day or two till I got to sea. He says I'm to go to Aunt Jane, at Halifax; and here's her address.'

"We all believed every word on 't, even without the paper he held out. But the mate says: 'Look here, my lad; that's

all very fine, but it won't do here some o' these men o' mine are in the secret, and I mean to have it out of 'em. Now, you just point out the man as stowed you away and fed you, this very minute; if you don't, it'll be the worse for you!'

"The boy looked up in his bright, fearless way (it did my heart good to look at him, the brave little chap!) and says, quietly, 'I've told you the truth; I ain't got no more to say.'

"The mate says nothin', but looks at him for a minute as if he'd see clean through him; and then he sings out to the crew loud enough to raise the dead: 'Reeve a rope to the yard; smart now!'

'Now, my lad, you see that 'ere rope? Well, I'll give you ten minutes to confess; and if you don't tell the truth afore the time's up, I'll hang you like a dog!'

"The crew all stared at one another as if they couldn't believe their ears (I didn't believe mine, I can tell ye), and then a low growl went among 'em, like a wild beast awakin' out of a nap.

"Silence there!' shouts the mate, in a voice like the roar of a nor'easter. 'Stan' by to run for 'ard!' as he held the noose ready to put it round the boy's neck. The little fellow never flinched a bit; but there was some among the sailors (big strong chaps as could ha' felled an ox) as shook like leaves in the wind. I clutched hold o' a handspike, and held it behind my back, all ready.

""Tom,' whispers the chief engineer to me, 'd'ye think he really means to do it?'

""I don't know,' says I, through my teeth; 'but if he does, he shall go first, if I swings for it!'