And, even like as exiles of idolatry, should quaff from the cisterns of

creation

Stagnant draughts, for those fresh springs that rise in the Creator.

Only, being burthened with the body, spiritual appetite is warped,
And sensual man, with taste corrupted, drinketh of pollutions :
Impulse is left, but indiscriminate; his hunger feasteth upon carrion;
His natural love of beauty doteth over beauty in decay.

He still thirsteth for the beautiful; but his delicate ideal hath grown gross,
And the very sense of thirst hath been fevered from affection into passion.
He remembereth the blessedness of light, but it is with an old man's

memory,

A blind old man from infancy, that once hath seen the sun,

Whom long experience of night hath darkened in his cradle recollections, Until his brightest thought of noon is but a shade of black.

This then is thy charm, O beauty, all pervading;

And this thy wondrous strength, O beauty, conqueror of all:
The outline of our shadowy best, the pure and comely creature,
That winneth on the conscience with a saddening admiration :
And some untutored thirst for God, the root of every pleasure,

Native to creatures, yea in ruin, and dating from the birthday of the soul.

For God sealeth up the sum, confirmed exemplar of proportions,
Rich in love, full of wisdom, and perfect in the plentitude of Beauty. (")

OF FAME.

BLOW the trumpet, spread the wing, fling thy scroll upon the sky,
Rouse the slumbering world, O Fame, and fill the sphere with echo :
-Beneath thy blast they wake, and murmurs come hoarsely on the

wind,

And flashing eyes and bristling hands proclaim they hear thy message:
Rolling and surging as a sea, that upturned flood of faces
Hasteneth with its million tongues to spread the wondrous tale;

The hum of added voices groweth to the roaring of a cataract,
And rapidly from wave to wave is tossed that exaggerated story,
Until those stunning clamours, gradually diluted in the distance,
Sink ashamed, and shrink afraid of noise, and die away.
Then brooding Silence, forth from his hollow caverns,

Cloaked and cowled, and gliding along, a cold and stealthy shadow,
Once more is mingled with the multitude, whispering as he walketh,
And hushing all their eager ears to hear some newer Fame.

So all is still again; but nothing of the past hath been forgotten;

A stirring recollection of the trumpet ringeth in the hearts of men:

And each one, either envious or admiring, hath wished the chance were his

To fill, as thus, the startled world with fame, or fear, or wonder.
This lit thy torch of sacrilege, Ephesian Eratostratus; (1o)

This dug thy living grave, Pythagoras, the traveller from Hades;
For this, dived Empedocles into Etna's fiery whirlpool;

For this conquerors, regicides, and rebels, have dared their perilous

crimes.

In all men, from the monarch to the menial, lurketh lust of fame;
The savage and the sage alike regard their labours proudly:

Yea, in death, the glazing eye is illumined by the hope of reputation,

And the stricken warrior is glad, that his wounds are salved with glory.

For fame is a sweet self-homage, an offering grateful to the idol,
A spiritual nectar for the spiritual thirst, a mental food for mind,
A pregnant evidence to all of an after immaterial existence,

A proof that soul is scatheless, when its dwelling is dissolved.

And the manifold pleasures of fame are sought by the guilty and the good;

Pleasures, various in kind, and spiced to every palate;

The thoughtful loveth fame as an earnest of better immortality,

The industrious and deserving, as a symbol of just appreciation,

The selfish, as a promise of advancement, at least to a man's own kin, And common minds as a flattering fact that men have been told of their existence.

There is a blameless love of fame, springing from desire of justice,
When a man hath featly won and fairly claimed his honours:

And then fame cometh as encouragement to the inward consciousness of

merit,

Gladdening by the kindliness and thanks, wherewithal his labours are re warded.

But there is a sordid imitation, a feverish thirst for notoriety,

Waiting upon vanity and sloth, and utterly regardless of deserving:

And then fame cometh as a curse; the fire-damp is gathered in the mine: The soul is swelled with poisonous air, and a spark of temptation shall explode it.

Idle causes, noised awhile, shall yield most active consequents,

And therefore it were ill upon occasion, to scorn the voice of rumour.
Ye have seen the chemist in his art mingle invisible gases;

And lo, the product is a substance, a heavy dark precipitate;
Even so fame, hurtling on the quiet with many meeting tongues,
Can out of nothing bring forth fruits, and blossom on a nourishment
of air.

For many have earned honour, and thereby rank and riches,

From false and fleeting tales, some casual mere mistake;

And many have been wrecked upon disgrace, and have struggled with

poverty and scorn,

From envious hints and ill reports, the slanders cast on innocence.

Whom may not scandal hit? those shafts are shot at a venture:

Who standeth not in danger of suspicion? that net hath caught the noblest.

Cæsar's wife was spotless, but a martyr to false fame; (11)

And Rumour, in temporary things, is gigantic as a ruin or a remedy:
Many poor and many rich have testified its popular omnipotence,

And many a panic-stricken army hath perished with the host of the
Assyrians.

Nevertheless, if opportunity be nought, let a man bide his time;

So the matter be not merchandise nor conquest, fear thou less for cha

racter.

If a liar accuseth thee of evil, be not swift to answer;

Yea, rather give him license for a while; it shall help thine honour afterward:

Never yet was calumny engendered, but good men speedily discerned it, And innocence hath burst from its injustice, as the green world rolling out

of Chaos.

What, though still the wicked scoff, this also turneth to his praise ;

Did ye never hear that censure of the bad is buttress to a good man's glory?

What, if the ignorant still hold out, obstinate in unkind judgment,-
Ignorance and calumny are paired; we affirm by two negations;
Let them stand round about, pushing at the column in a circle,
For all their toil and wasted strength, the foolish do but prop it.

And note thou this; in the secret of their hearts, they feel the taunt is false,

And cannot help but reverence the courage that walketh amid calumnies

unanswering:

He standeth as a gallant chief, unheeding shot or shell;

He trusted in God his Judge; neither arrows nor the pestilence shall harm him.

A high heart is a sacrifice to heaven; should it stoop among the creepers in the dust,

To tell them that what God approved is worthy of their praise!

Never shall it heed the thought; but flaming on in triumph to the skies, And quite forgetting fame, shall find it added as a trophy.

A great mind is an altar on a hill; should the priest descend from his altitude

To canvass offerings and worship from dwellers on the plain?

Rather with majestic perseverance, will he minister in solitary grandeur, Confident the time will come when pilgrims shall be flocking to the shrine. For fame is the birthright of genius; and he recketh not how long it be delayed:

The heir need not hasten to his heritage, when he knoweth that his tenure is eternal.

The careless poet of Avon, was he troubled for his fame?

Or the deep-mouthed chronicler of Paradise, heeded he the suffrage of his equals ?

Mæonides took no thought, commiting all his honours to the future,
And Flaccus, standing on his watch-tower, spied the praise of ages.

Smoking flax will breed a flame, and the flame may illuminate a word • Where is he who scorned that smoke as foul and murky vapour?

The village stream swelled to a river, and the river was a kingdom's

wealth;

Where is he who boasted he could step across that stream?

Such are the beginnings of the famous: little in the judgment of their

peers,

The juster verdict of posterity shall fix them in the orbits of the Great. 'Therefore dull Zoilus, clamouring ascendant of the hour,

Will soon be fain to hide his hate, and bury up his bitterness for shame: Therefore mocking Monus, offended at the steps of Beauty, (12)

Shall win the prize of his presumption, and be hooted from his throne among the stars.

For, as the shadow of a mountain lengtheneth before the setting sun,
Until that screening Alp have darkened all the canton,-

So Fame groweth to its great ones; their images loom larger in departing :
But the shadow of mind is light, and earth is filled with its glory.

And thou, student of the truth, commended to the praise of God,
Wouldst thou find applause with men ?-seek it not, nor shun it.
Ancient fame is roofed in cedar, and her walls are marble:
Modern fame lodgeth in a hut, a slight and temporary dwelling;
Lay not up the treasures of thy soul within so damp a chamber,

For the moth of detraction shall fret thy robe, and drop its eggs upon thy

motive;

Or the rust of dishearten.ng reserve shali spoil the lustre of thy gold, Until its burnished beauty shall be dim as tarnished brass;

Or thieves, breaking through to steal, shall claim thy jewelled thoughts, And turn to charge the theft on thee, a pilferer from them!

There is a magnanimity in recklessness of fame, so fame be well deserving,

That rusheth on in fearless might, the conscious sense of merit ;

And there is a littleness in jealousy of fame, looking as aware of weak

ness,

That creepeth cautiously along, afraid that its title will be challenged.
The wild boar, full of beech-mast, flingeth him down among the brambles
Secure in bristly strength, without a watch he sleepeth:
But the hare, afraid to feed, croucheth in its own soft form;
Waketully with timid eyes, and quivering ears, he listeneth.
Even so, a giant's might is bound up in the soul of Genius,

His neck is strong with confidence, and he goeth tusked with power
Sturdily he roameth in the forest, or sunneth him in fen and field,