shadowed in all these incidents-little and even contemptible as some of them might be considered by those staid and commonplace conventionalists who work by rules, for no other reason than that they are rules. We believe in innate genius, and we think it ought to have a voice in the important question of education. The mere fact that a boy of thirteen should be able so to copy a picture as to deceive its very possessor, is in itself an eloquent and over-powering argument for this item of our creed. Perhaps it was indicative only of great power of imitation, without evincing any of the higher attributes of art; but even in this case it says much. An eye that has already made such advances toward the full development of this wonderful faculty of observation, is sure to bring in to the mental treasury, from time to time, such stores as will lift it above all common minds, and form a nucleus around which all that is majestic and beautiful and holy will eventually cling and crystallize. What a quiet satire, too, is this little history on that blind homage and taking of things on trust, already touched upon-that love of originals and antiques and articles of vertu, which leads men to purchase names instead of things, and to idolize an old idea instead of thinking out a new one. And how pregnant with instruction is the fact that youth may anticipate grey hairs, and a child attain the wisdom of a hundred years, just as the masterminds of past ages lived some centuries before their time, and propounded in the morning twilight of former generations, truths radiant with the lustre of our own day. To execute at seventeen, a work that will bear the scrutiny of threescore years and ten, is a glory reserved for very few.

On the elevation of Julius II. to the pontificate, our artist was honored with commissions to execute a mausoleum for his remains, and to rebuild the cathedral of St. Peter's; but the sudden greatness of the young man excited such envy among the Pope's dependents, that on one occasion he was denied access to his holiness, and left Rome with the intimation that if the Pope wanted him he must seek him elsewhere.

The Pope chagrined at such conduct, sent after him an imperative order for his return. But he little understood the manly and intrepid character with whom he was dealing. Michael Angelo Buonarrotti-for he it was of whom we have been

writing-refused, and proceeded to Florence. Message followed message without effect, till the authorities of that city fearing the displeasure of his holiness, persuaded him at length, accredited as their ambassador, and consequently secure against illtreatment, to relent. He did so, and the first commission executed by him was a colossal statue of the pope himself, in bronze, and with a sword in his hand, for said he, unblushingly, "A sword would be more adapted to my character than a book. I am no book-man,❞—worthy representative of him whose sword had proved his curse, and called down the unqualified displeasure of his Great Master!

Michael Angelo resumed Julius's mausoleum, but the pontiff bad changed his mind, and sorely against Michael's inclination, engaged him to decorate the ceilings and walls of the Sixtine chapel, with paintings in fresco, to the memory of Sixtus VI., the pope's uncle. For the purpose of commencing these paintings, ropes were let through the ceiling to suspend the scaffolding. Michael asked Bramante the architect, who had arranged this machinery, how the ceiling was to be completed if the ropes were suffered to remain? The answer did not obviate the objection. Michael represented to the pope that the defect would have been avoided if Bramante had better understood the application of mechanical principles; and obtained the pope's permission to take down the inefficient contrivance and erect another. This he

effected; and his machinery was so ample and complete, that Bramante himself adopted it in the building of St. Peter's. Michael gave this invention to the poor man who was his carpenter in constructing it, and who realized a fortune from the commissions he received for others on the same plan.

Here was real genius, glorified by a generous magnanimity. Inferior minds stop short at images: the truly great go back to principles. Michael Angelo was led by ideas, Bramante by forms; and the ascendency of the artist was eminently conspicuous. The machine lay in all its completeness in the mind of the artist, whilst the architect's development of it was false and faulty. So exact, so exquisite, so perfect a workman, is severe and well-schooled thought. Leo X. succeeded Julius. In 1546, when Michael was seventy-two years old, the reigning pope nominated him architect of St. Peter's, which he only

accepted on condition that his services should be gratui

tous.

In 1550, Julius III. succeeded to the pontificate, and Michael to new vexations. His rivals endeavored to displace him for unfitness in the conduct of St. Peter's. A committee of architects was appointed to investigate the charge, in the presence of the pope. The committee alleged that the church wanted light; and they furnished the cardinals Salviati and Marcelo Cervino with plans, to show that Michael had walled up a recess for three chapels, and made only three insufficient windows. "Over those windows are to be placed three others," answered Michael. You never said that before," answered one of the cardinals. To this Michael indignantly replied, "I am not, neither will I ever be, obliged to tell your eminence or any one else, what I ought, or am disposed to do; it is your office to see that money be provided, to keep off the thieves, and to leave the building of St. Peter's to me."

Michael is by no means the only man who has been blamed for the short-sightedness of his censurers; nor are individuals alone subject to this ordeal-measures as well as men will sometimes look back reproachfully, to remind us that with all the enlightenment of the nineteenth century, we are still the minions of prejudice or ignorance. "Wait a little longer."

is

Paul IV. who succeeded to the papacy in 1555, was imprudent enough to send a message to Michael Angelo, requesting him to "reform" his magnificent painting of the Last Judgment. The reply was noble and characteristic, "What the pope wishes very little and may be easily effected, for if his holiness will only reform' the opinions of mankind, the picture will be reformed of itself." Great men mould the age; were it otherwise, the world would stand still. Let each do his part in this reformation, beginning with his own mind, and study how he may advance it in all that is elevating, good, and true. Thus thought our hero-artist, embodying his impressions in this fine sonnet, addressed to his friend Luigi del Ricco, and rendered into English by Southey:

ILL hath he chosen his part who seeks to please
The worthless world,-ill hath he chosen his part;
For often must he wear the look of ease

When grief is at his heart;

And often in his hours of happier feeling
With sorrow must his countenance be hung,
And ever his own better thoughts concealing
Must he in stupid grandeur's praise be loud,
And to the errors of the ignorant crowd
Assent with lying tongue.

Thus much would I conceal-that none should know
What secret cause I have for silent woe;
And taught by many a melancholy proof
That those whom fortune favours it betrays,
I, from the blind and faithless world aloof,
Nor fear its envy nor desire its praise,

But choose my path through solitary ways.

At the great age of eighty-nine a slow fever indicated Michael Angelo's approaching decease. His nephew, Leonardo Buonarrotti, was sent for; but not arriving, and the fever increasing, he ordered the persons who were in the house into his chamber, and in the presence of them and his physicians uttered this verbal will:-"My soul I resign to God, my body to the earth, and my worldly possessions to my nearest of kin :" then admonishing his attendants, he said, "In your passage through this life, remember the sufferings of Jesus Christ."

Nor was this a casual or unmeaning outburst of devotion awakened by the near prospect of eternity. In an age of splendid vice, Michael Angelo was an illustrious example of virtue. He was a man of purity and prayer-of prayer tinctured of course with the leaven of those darker days in which he lived-but free from self-reliance or Pharisaism. He supplicated the author and hearer of prayer to make his petitions worthy of acceptance, and so to implant the good seed in his mind as to produce just and pious works, confessing that if He showed not the hallowed path, he must remain in ignorance how to follow it: "Pour Thou into my mind," said he, "the thoughts that may conduct me in thy holy steps, and endue me with a fervent tongue that I may always praise, exalt, and sing thy glory!" His prayer was answered, for not only in word, but in deed and truth, he glorified his profession by a consistent and blameless course of life. "In a long intimacy," says a cotemporary, "I have never heard from his mouth a single word that was not perfectly

decorous, and had not for its object to extinguish in youth every improper and lawless desire: his nature is a stranger to depravity."

What he might have been, had he lived in the clearer light of our own day, we can only conjecture. Would that we could see such true nobility of character grafted on the stock of pure and undefiled religion.

THE HUSBAND WON. *

"What knowest thou, O wife, whether thou shalt save thy husband?" 1 Cor. vii. 16.

IN one of the midland counties resides an excellent individual, who, though destitute of the natural sense of vision, is endowed with the perception and enjoyment of better things than the eye can see. His worldly occupation leads him occasionally through a wide extent of country, and for a considerable period he has been in the habit of making his journeys subservient to designs of usefulness, by scattering, in the districts through which he passes, those useful and humble monitors of truth, religious tracts. It would be well if all Christians whose business calls them to travel, would always consider, with this our blind friend, a bundle of tracts a part of the necessary equipment for their journeys.

This good man, about two years since, happened to be in a part of the country where he thought it desirable to scatter a little of the good seed, which he always takes with him. He accordingly offered some to a woman. It was an interesting sight to see a blind man, who could not himself read, offering good books to others. It was as much as to say, "You are more blessed than I; improve and enjoy the sense of which I am deprived, and let me admonish you to use it for the best of purposes, to quicken within you a better sight, and to prepare you to behold brighter objects than any your eye has yet seen." The woman thankfully received the tracts, took them home, and read them.

It happened that she had a relative, the wife of an attorney, who resided in a neighbouring town. And after having carefully perused the tracts herself, she sent them to this relative, that she might enjoy the instruction they afforded. The attorney himself was an enemy to religion and religious people, and openly professed his contempt

* From the "Christian Spectator," for March, a bi-monthly record of the Religious Tract Society, well worthy of careful perusal by all interested in the progress of that Institution, and the general diffusion of evangelical truth.