Yea: how dignified, and worthy, full of privilege and happiness, Standeth in majestic independence the self-ennobled Author! For God hath blessed him with a mind, and cherished it in tenderness and purity, Hath taught it in the whisperings of wisdom, and added all the riches of content: Therefore, leaning on his God, a pensioner for soul and body, His spirit is the subject of none other, calling no man Master. His hopes are mighty and eternal, scorning small ambitions: He hideth from the pettiness of praise, and pitieth the feebleness of envy. If he meet honours, well; it may be his humility to take them: If he be rebuked, better; his veriest enemy shall teach him. For the master-mind hath a birthright of eminence; his cradle is an eagle's eyrie: Need but to wait till his wings are grown, and Genius soareth to the sun: To creeping things upon the mountain leaveth he the gradual ascent, Resting his swiftness on the summit only for a higher flight. Glad in clear good-conscience, lightly doth he look for commendation; What, if the prophet lacketh honour? for he can spare that praise: The honest giant careth not to be patted on the back by pigmies; Flatter greatness, he brooketh it good-humouredly: blame him,--thou tiltest at a pyramid: Yet, just censure of the good never can he hear without contrition; Neither would he miss one wise man's praise, for scarce is that jewel and costly: Only for the herd of common minds, and the vulgar trumpetings of fame, If aught he heedeth in the matter, his honour is sought in their neglect. Slender is the marvel, and little is the glory, when round his luscious fruits The worm and the wasp and the multitude of flies are gathered as to banquet; Fashion's freak, and the critical sting, and the flood of flatteries he scorneth; Cheerfully asking of the crowd the favour to forget him: The while his blooming fruits ripen in richer fragrance, A feast for the few,--and the many yet unborn,--who still shall love their savour. So then, humbly with his God, and proudly independent of his fellows, Walketh, in pleasures multitudinous, the man ennobled by his pen: He hath built up, glorious architect, a monument more durable than brass; His children's children shall talk of him in love, and teach their sons his honour: His dignity hath set him among princes, the universe is debtor to his worth, His privilege is blessing for ever, his happiness shineth now, For he standeth of that grand Election, each man one among a thousand, Whose sound is gone out into all lands, and their words to the end of the world! [Illustration: Of Mystery.] OF MYSTERY. [Illustration: "A"]