ee aa ee ere

ae apes

elon seen

Seeiamectineamemenainnenn een ——

6G THR EXAMINER.

arts. If you see a man bowing to the rich or influential

vrawavuad.

CHIMES FOR THE ‘TIMES.

Be ye not jealous over-much,

But hope,and time will make you better: There is a faith care cannot touch,

Which leaves the sou! without a fetter. Oh it is but a sorry creed

To look for nothing but deceiving, To meet « kindness in your need

With a smile of misbelieving ! The tide of il] is not so strong ; Man loves not always wrath aud wrong,

- === |recommendation and protection, becoming a thing of

lacks mind as much as he lacks self-respect. The bow- ing, smiling sycophant is as opposite to the polite man as possible ; for politeness, the desire to exchange both civilities and services, belongs to the independent man of genius. Genius is modest, but never suffers itself to be trampled upon. It feels that it belongs to nature’s aristocracy, and despises the aristocracy of mere wealth. The aristocracy of nature is composed of the nobles who are stamped such by their Maker, and are, in prin- ciple and practice, true democrats—lovers of their fel- low-men, and supporters of the equal rights of all.’

Many very praiseworthy examples are on record of the reverence which even monarclis have shown towards genius. When Beethoven formed a part of the house- hold of the Elector of Cologne, the prince, a true wor- shipper of talent, ordered that if both required attend- ance at the same time, the great composer should be waited on first. This precedence was no doubt gratify- ing to Beethoven, who says correctly enough, ‘ Kings and princes can indeed create professors and privy councellors, and bedeck them with titles and orders; but they cannot make great men—spirits that rise above the world’s rubbish: these they must not attempt to create; and therefore must these be held in honour. When two such come together, as I and Goethe, these great lords must note what it is that passes for great- ness with such as we. Yesterday, as we. were return- ing homewards, we met. the whole imperial family: we saw them coming at some distance, whereupon Goethe disengaged himself from my arm, in order that he migt stand aside; in spite of all I could say, I could not bring him astep forwards, [ pulled my hat more firm] on my head, battened up my top-coat, and walked, with my arms folded behind me, right through the thick- eat of the crowd. Princes and officials made a lane for me; Archduke Rudolph took off his hat; these great people knew me! It was the greatest fun in the world to see the procession file past Goethe, who stood aside, with his hat off, bending his head as low as possible. For this ( atterwards called him over the coles properly and without mercy.’

A nobleman having called on Holbein while he was envaged in drawing a figure of life, was told that he conld not see him, but must call anotherday. Foolishty taking this answer as an affront, he very rudely rushcd HONOURS OF LITERATURE. up Stairs to the painter’s studio, Hearing a noise, Hol- bits Se ert , bein opened his door, and feeling enraged at his Jord- Fiume, in his history of the reign of James T., justly ship’s assumption and intrusion,he pushed him backwards observes that ‘such » superiority do the pursuits of lite-| from the top of the stairs to the bottom. However, re- rature possess above every other occupation, that even tlecting iminediately on what he had done, he repaired he who attains but a mediocrity in them, merits the pre-i1.,. the king. ‘Tue nobleman, who pretended to be very eminence above those that excel the most in the com-| much huat, was there soon after him, and having stated mon and vulgar professions.’ In France, the mere title |}, complaint, would be. satisfied with nothing Jess than of ‘homme de lettres’ is as indicative of a distinct and {the artisi’s life; upon which the king firmly replied, «My honourable profession as those of tmilitaire,’ *juriscon- lord, you have not now to do with Holbein, but with me ; sulte,’ or ‘medecin;’ and it forms, as they do, an un-| whatever punishment you may contrive by way of re- objectionable passport with all the upper classes. Till | venve against him, shall assuredly be inflicted upon lately, in Hogland it was a common complaint that men) yourself. Remember, pray, my lord, that ] can, when- of learning and artists, who had not parliamentary in- over I please, moeke seven jords of seven ploughinen, terest, or could not vive a quid pro.quo, were defrauded | but T cannot make one Holbein of even seven lords,’ of their fair share of state honours, It is hoped, how- Edgar Quinet, the young German poet, repaired one ever, that a change is about to take place, if it is not}day to the Chateau des Tuileries to visit one of the now in the course of operation; and the less that is said queen’s maids of honour, and was on this occasion more upon the subject the hetter. Some have contended for| than usually melancholy. Suddenly, while he was con- titles for men of letters; but genius ts itself a sufficient versing with her,a young person entered, so fair, so distinction for all who possess, and abuse it not. Ra- naturally elegant, that our poet would immediately leigh, Sidney, Newton, anda thousand other names of | have recognised her, had he not been so absorbed in nature’s noblemen, are familiar in our mouths as Shouse- his grief that he could see nothing. However, the new- hold words > and the *Sirs’ which were added to these|¢omer took pity on his sufferings, and with much ele- words, so big with meaning, so fraught with high re- vance and feeling began to talk to him of his new memberances, are never thought of when we think of] joem ‘Prometheus,’ telline him that it was an excellent the men. ‘Sir Charles’ adds nothing to. the lustre ot| work, perhaps the best he had ever written; and she Luinneus ;and who ever thonght that the names of Shak-| even knew. by heart several of the rustic verses, extem- speare or Milton would receive additional dignity Or} norised as bards extemporised before the mead. Ima- value if “Sir William’ or ‘Lord John’ were prefixed t0' gine the delizht of the poet at hearing her thus speak! them? : | Seeing that it pleased him, she poured the healing balm,

We believe that at no time had good literature more drop by prop, upon his wounded heart. She gradually solid consideration than at present; at no lime were its/and carefully proceeded from the poem in verse to the

{t cannot be that every heart

Is steeled so much against its neighbour; Let each with reason play his part,

And fruit will spring from out the labour s Progressing still life’s journey through,

Be just and kind towards your fellow, Remembering, whate’er you do,

That duty spreads the smoothest pillow ; And ne’er the hand of friendship spurn, But trust, and man will trust in turn.

Some men there be who deem it good In trade to overreach a brother; And some who would not, though they could, Upraise a hand to help another: They deem not, though convulsions wide May show the earth by danger shaken, That still of hearts unjust through pride A dark and true account is taken: Kingdoms may quake and thrones may fall, But God is looking over all.

Oh join not then the strifes of men, But hourly show, by waxing kinder, That ye have reached the moment when Reason no more is growing blinder! And though ye hope that time should yield A change for each benighted nation, Seek not at first so wide a field To fling the seeds of reformation ; Bat sow them first in hearts at home, Then trust in God, and fruit will come.

tt a tts ae a

| | poet’s mouth with gold dust, and seated him on his for patronage and good dinners, flattering power for| throne”

Reverence for genius is displayed not merely by the

hows, smiles, and honied words, be assured that he|high and educated classes, but this feeling prevails

‘amongst even the poor and untaught, and sometimes ‘forms a redeeming virtue among the cruel and aban- ‘doned. The wife of a Silesian peasant being obliged to go on foot to Saxony, and hearing that she had tra- velled more than halfthe distance to Goethe’s residence, whose works she had read with the liveliest interest, continued her journey to Weimar for the sake of seeing him. Goethe gave her his portrait, and declared that the true character of his works had never been better understood than by this poor woman. At the close of the coronation of George IV., Sir Walter Scott received a mark of homage to his genius which delighted him. Missing his carriage, he had to return home on foot from Westminster after the banquet—that is to say, between two and three o’clock in the morning—when he and a young friend found themselves locked in the crowd somewhere near Whitehall. A space for the dignitaries was kept clear at that point by the Scots Greys, Sir Walter addressed a sergeant of his celebrated regi ment, begging to be allowed to pass by him into open space in the middle of the street. The mam answered shortly that his orders were strict, that it could not be suffered. While he was endesvouring to persuade the sergeant to relent, some new wave of turbulence approached from behind, and his companiom exclaimed in a loud voice, ‘Take care, Sir Walter Scott; take care!’ The stalwart dragoon, on heari the name, said, ‘What! Sir Walter Scott! He sh getthrough anyhow! He then addressed the soldiers near him—‘ Make room, men, for Sir Walter Scott, our illustrious countryman!’ The men answered, ‘Sir Walter Scott! God bless him!’ and in a moment he was within the guarded line of safety. ‘T’asso, on one of his journeys between Romeand Naples, fel] into the hands of banditti, who immediately proceeded to plunder him and his fellow-travellers. But no sooner did the captain of the band hear the poet’s name, than, with tokens of admiration and respect, he set him at liberty nor would he permit his gang to plunder Tasso’s com- panions, A prince of royal birth confined the poet in a madbouse for more than seven years—the great and wealthy left him to a precarious life, which was oftena life of absolute want—the servile writers of the dey loaded him with abuse and most unjust criticism— but a mountain robber, by the roadside, protected him, and kissed the hand of the author of ‘Jerusalem De- hivered.’

{From Chambers’s Edinburgh Journal.] A WORD ON ‘THE HIGHLANDS.

One of the most agreeble of the many agreeble toure which may be performed during summer in Scotland, is an excursion from Loch Lomoud, by an interesting line of road, to Glencoe and Fort-William; and thence, af- ter some rambling about the skiris of Ben Nevis, to In- verness by steamer along the Caledonian Canal. A short time ago it was my fortune to make this journey, partly with the view of indulging in the picturesque, but chietly to bave a glance at some of those scenes render- ed memorable by the destitution which prevailed during the winter of 1846-7,

Among other novelties which the tourist is promised a sight of in passing towards Glencoe, is the Black Mount, a recently-created deer forest of many miles in extent, belonging to the Marquis of Breadalbane. In crossing this tract of bleak mountainous country in the stage. little time is afforded to gratify curiosity ; but he would be a dull traveiler who could not, in a ride of two or three hours, observe the peculiar aspect of a district cleared of sheep and cattle, and inhabited only by herds of wild animals, and the scarcely Jess wild bands of gillies who are employed to take care of this extensive chase. The scene is silent and dismal. You glide through a waste of marshy hollows environed by lofty mountains ; and the only living things which greet the eye are here and there startled packs of grouse, or a few deer, retieved against the sky, on the summits of the

representatives, according to their reapective personal | yoem in prose: she passed from ‘* Prometheus’ to the|brown heathery jis. The Black Mount, however, i#

elaims, more freely accepted ona footing of equality ‘touching story of * Ahasuerus,’ that masterpiece of po- with the highest. ‘ But,’ to use the words of a recent! etica legends. ‘ Follow me,’ said she to Quinet, ‘and reviewer, ‘to the honour of humanity be it said, con-

‘only a specimen of the great tracts of country whick ) | within the last twenty years have been rendered useless you will see whether I love this poem.’ The two ladies|to man inthe Highlands of Scotland. Shortly afte

‘duct goes far in regulating the author's position in S0-|immediately arose and conducted him to a Gothic studio, | the close of the Rebellion in 1745, many Highland pro-

ciety; and there is little risk of ascampish Aretine|fijled with drawings and sketches. What was the joy/prietors, according to new economical views, turned * ‘ a “ - » —_ es > + . . * j ° ¥ ‘ 7

meeting with toleration o: fellowship. If, indeed, there!of the poet when four admirable bas-reliefs, taken from|their dependent clansmen adrift, rooted out small crof-

still remains any cause for complaint respecting the | his poem, were pointed out to him! Yes, his heroes!

ters, and dividing their Jands into large sheep tracts,

position of literary men, it must be attributed to their | themselves, in the very attitude, and exhibiting the very|leased them on advantageous terms to store-farmers of

desire for high associations being mixed with such para-/ passions which his poetry had given them! It would be

skill and capital from the south. Much of the High-

tie Jviems ¢ are . ’ i} : — | ee . . . . e - ° . , “ ritic toadyisms as are incompatible with seil-respect. | quite impossible to describe his feelings when the fair} lands is still under this system of pasturage; but much

, bene esate, SE pies lene ' all . ‘ . ° ° 8 lf literature be 4 distinctian, if genius be nature’s Own) young artist said to hi, in her sweet voice, ‘ This is|

has latterly suffered the new transformation into hunt-

rl FA ePYy f t ; Tal La. = i “ | . . . . ° aristocracy, and if philosophy be a benefactress to man-) your work, take it with you,’ and when he read at the|ing-grounds—a remarkable change; for in the nine-

kind, why should theis representatives voluntarily take | be ttom of these exquisite bas-reliefs the roval name!

teenth century, when all else is advancing, the enfor-

‘tas _ bls Lalow. tho cal : t, ‘ hale iil : ‘ i : ‘ ty : 2 : : their p'ace below the salt, and look up where they|Marie d’Orleans. We have heard of a great prince| esting of lands formerly useful seems like taking a step

r «i ” the s: 2 ef oct ara > marke . sf } ; ; should look down?’ ‘To the same effect are the remarks! who held the ladder for Albert Durer; of a powerful|back to the earliest ages of mankind, I have oftes

of Mr. Dunlop, who. inan address to the New York Academy, says, ‘It is in vain to look for honour from others, if we donot honour ourselyes. It is for authors and artists to teach mankind the true estimation in which they must be held. And first, they must esteem themselves so fur as to avoid all that is low, all that is servile. all that ia false. Can there be anything so con-| vemptible as asycophant who debases the talent he possesses? Sycopiancy is incoinpativie with true poams, We offer see it united to mediocrity in the

monarch who picked up tha pencils of Titian; we knew|wondered whether it would be consistent with publie that the sister ofa king of France kissed the lips of|rights for individual holders of property to render their Alain Chartier while he slept; but this great surprise |lands utterly useless to the community ?—or, to put an

‘given toa poet—this unhoped-for and consolatory gift—| extreme case, whether the owner of an estate is entitled

the infinite grace of the young gir}, the princess, the/to sink his lands in the ses, if he feel so disposed? grent aruist—cannot be too much admired. ‘Questions of this curious nature may with propriety be

M. d’Abbadie, writing of the Abyssinians, says that|considered in relation to the Black Mount and other ‘the Gojam sch slarsjwell remember the single verse | Highland deer forests, where, for the sake ofa litle spoker in Axum by a mendicant, and which go much|amusement in autumn, the means of human existence celighted a native prince, that he stuffed the raggedjare effectually extinguished. Some writers, indeed,