they look quite as respectable. You may meet all four in an omnibus, and for your life you could not tell the Noble from the cit. It is clear, then, that something must be done for distinction's sake. I don't see why the members of the peerage should not be adorned with labels about their necks, just like decanters of port and sherry; but they do not (foolishly, in my opinion) seem to favour the plan, and instead of it they take to decorating and distinguishing their children, whether titled or not, with and by a multitude of names, which would be quite sufficient to set up, in distinctive appellations, half the great European family. Such is their taste. I think the same purpose would have been answered by a more ingenious expedient ;-but I may be wrong. Besides, I never took lessons in "artificial memory,"-in fact, so far as our glorious aristocracy goes, it would be much more agreeable to lap one's self in artificial forgetfulness.

There are other baptismal freaks coming into vogue, however, besides the "long name "mania. One is the Jordan mania. Formerly, when people were made Christians of—a sprinkling of honest wholesome Thames or New River water was deemed quite sufficient for all theological purposes. It seems however that this was a vulgar error. Jordan is the shop for the genuine stuff. The Thames may be all very well for the lower classes-but homebrewed water is to Jordan mud what British brandy is to Cogniac. All our little Princes and Princesses have been christianised by drops from the far eastern source. Enterprising and loyal travellers have returned from Asia Minor with stone bottles slung at their saddle-bows, like so many John Gilpins going to the Bell at Edmonton. The Jordan, in fact, bids fair to be converted into a great river of Protestant holy water. Of course it must have some occult virtues, or why has it been used? The Ganges is the sacred stream of the Hindoos-is the Jordan to be the reverenced river of the English aristocracy? It is sad to think of the numbers of hapless little boys and girls every day christened in nasty, vulgar, mere common water, which may be cut off by the company whenever you fall in arrears in the payment of your rates. Terrible misdoubtings cross one's mind. Are the children properly-satisfactorily baptised in such fluid as that which floats in Battersea Reach or reposes in the reservoir by the New Road? Only think of all the plebeian tribe of the Johnnies and the Bills-the Sallies and the Janes-having no real Jordanised appellations to bless themselves withal! Think of their having been, by the sad

accident of the Thames instead of the Jordan flowing under London Bridge-but half-baptised, or indeed not baptised at all to speak of-wandering into the world like engravings-portraits, it may be, of their dear parents-but unfinished-unnamed-" before the letters. Really, this is a terrible contingency. People are inoculated every seven years. Why might they not be re-baptised on the same principle?—that is to say, with Jordan water of courseobtained pure and direct from the stream, just as we now and then go back for vaccination matter to its original and genuine sourcethe Cow!

Two things, at all events, are evident. Our illustrious nobility must not only have extraordinary names-but an extraordinary mode of tacking them on. Both facts are feathers in their caps. There is no accounting for taste. I, for my part, would prefer a different plume-but it is not for me to grumble should a nobleman determine upon the biographical sketch of his life (including all the important and honouring incidents) running thus-"He was born-ate-drank-slept, and died-had eight names, and was christened with water from the Jordan."

ANGUS B. REACH.

THE TRUE SUPPORT OF GENIUS.

AN APPEAL.

BY A POOR AUTHOR.

IT would seem as if, among other unhappy persons, whose cause is now to come to a new hearing, and whose place in the world is to be arranged on other principles than the "wisdom of our forefathers," the Man of Letters, or the Man of Imagination -or (to use a still more comprehensive phrase) the Artist as distinguished from the Operative-is beginning to excite the attention of Society. The notion is growing, that he is, somehow or other, placed amiss; has wrongs which claim redress—an existence to which its due support is denied. The case has been one so long before me, that I am not suiting myself to a whim of philanthropic Fashion, but merely availing myself of an opportunity to bestow my hoarded tediousness upon ears willing to hear-in offering a few words to my brethren in particular, and the world in general.

I have said, the Artist as distinguished from the Operative, because it has been the humour of some who ought to have known better to confound the two. The Man of Imagination labours, 'tis true; but his first desire is the indulgence of his own yearnings,— not the pay of his employer or customer, which last must with the Man of Trade be the primum mobile. And I will hold that—after all differences in the rate of pay have been allowed for an Inventor has fiftyfold more reward than the drudge who works out his inventions. He has indulged his fancy, and to do this remains his greatest need, till the World's wants or the World's wisdom have taught him another lesson. Yet let him not speak contemptuously of those whose part in Life and Duty is merely mechanical -whose days are more monotonously spent-whose deeds make a less picturesque show than his. The two classes are not so far apart as the Exclusive dream. Their common origin, however, will never be heartily acknowledged, till the one shall cease to strive for the heritage of the other: the Artist-that is to be consumed by the Money-maker's desires, the Money-maker (which is the rarer case) to entertain a notion of being his own sculptor or architect; his own Claude or Rossini. If the Flowers and the Leaves said to the Stems and the Branches-" Go to, men shall build their ships with us, not you!"-would not the Winds be filled with laughter?

Truce to rhapsody, however! If there was ever a case from the discussion of which "fine language" should be excluded (this comprehending badinage, appeal to feeling; all, in short, that perplexes the object by exhibiting it under false and partial lights), it is this. What is it that we all desire? The happiness of the Man of Genius: his free use of his powers: his right place in society: a happy youth for him-an active manhood-a serene time of retirement. So far as regards the case laid before the Public, the bewailers have hitherto had their own way. No one, worth listening to, has defended the condition of neglect, enthralment, and difficulty in which the Poet's life has been past, till sorrow has become proverbially attached to his name. No one, save the most rigid of Puritans (and even he, somewhere or other, has made the exception-opened the door admitted the grace) has in essence questioned the use and blessing of Genius to Mankind. The question has been, of what use Mankind can be in return-the manner of blessings of which the lot of Genius is susceptible ?

It will be found that one and the same cure for the sorrows

of Genius has been recommended from the earliest days till the time present; this being a more liberal patronage from those benefited. Speech after speech has been made, poem after poem written, essay after essay put forth, book after book-tinctured with a bitter sense of the World's parsimony and hardness of heart! Pensions-professorships-that yet more direct relief from worldly cares which private assistance implies-have been again and again recommended, not merely as matters of feeling, but as matters of duty. And, as case after case of failure in happiness, disorder in affairs, and the fearfully common catastrophe, on which it were needless now to dwell, occurs; amiable and eloquent persons propound one or other of these remedies, in an agony of that kindly sympathy which longs to be "up and doing," and will not stay to ask how far such momentary succour as it can minister-escaping, thereby, its own uneasiness-may or may not tend to a reproduction, nay, to an increase, of the same distress among children yet unborn!

Now, at the risk of being called hard, over-strained,-precisely. those names which are felt as more intolerable than grave accusations I must assert, that this nostrum of Patronage, besides being impossible, would be wholly insufficient to the end proposed; in whatsoever manner it were applied.-First as regards the impossibility. Who are to be the Patrons ?-Who the Patronised? Some have said, that the Many should, in faith, combine to do honour to all capable of exalting them, giving them pleasure, teaching them, and the like. Well, but are the Many sure to worship true divinities?—Are the greatest, those with regard to whose claims they agree the most readily? Is it not those whom

the Many neglect will neither listen to, nor reward-that we are desired to pension (which is the patronage of the Few)? The Philosopher, that he may have leisure for recondite meditations,-The Historian, that he may follow out trains of elaborate research, The Poet, that he may continue his song above the crowd? The Many, then, must be led by the Few:-believe in their power, their impartiality, their skill as a Faculty to licence, their acute perception of that which may be, as well as that which has been. But can you provide against anti-chambering, with all its evil moral influences, against such virtual injustice being again and again repeated, as the Specious Projector, pushing foremost into the honours and the emoluments, which better men are too timid to solicit, or too proud to claim? And, if you can exclude the Few from small per

sonal influences, are you sure that they may not set up false gods, and overlook the true ones? Consider, again; how fine a hair-line separates the original from the eccentric man :-how apt Indolence is to mistake itself for Contemplation :-how an honest wrongheadedness may impose on one or two admiring friends, for that singlehearted devotion which will ultimately achieve greatness! For one wreath of laurel which would fall on befitting brows, half-adozen would drop amiss; since there is something in the act of patronage prepense, that is sorely destructive of judgment. "My God is better than your God, because you cannot understand him! Has this been never the cry—even among the learned and gifted themselves?-how much the more, then, shall it arise among those whose very duties imply less learning-fewer gifts-but wealth in greater plenty? If Patronage is to mean the right Man placed by others in the right place the Patron must be, not only as well instructed, but as self-sacrificing as, the Man!

Again, what is to be the measure of Patronage? A competence. As agreed on by whom? If you are to help the Poet, for the sake of his Poetry, dare you answer it to your conscience to check or to criticise his tastes? If you are to give your Historian the means of carrying out his researches, is it fair to quarrel with his passion for old books and precious manuscripts-bread of life to him-though well nigh as hard to be come by, as Pitt and Pigot diamonds? Patronage by halves leaves the thing undone, the grievance unredressed :-Patronage by wholes, leaves you at the mercy of appetite, reasonable or unreasonable, and without a right to restrain or distinguish. These may be but naked outlines, but the fillings-up, with their forms and colours, must be familiar to every one, who has studied not merely the aspirations but the self-delusions-yet more the appetites of the Man of Genius. They may but seem flat assertions, yet, for their disproof, new facts and phenomena must be assembled: and those before the World set aside. In this, let me solemnly declare, I mean neither reproach nor unkindness to those more gifted than myself; but, by pointing out the difference between their scale and the World's (which is in nothing greater than the estimation of what is befitting), to demonstrate the impossibility of any measure of patronage, such as some beneficent persons desire, being satisfactory-seeing that the Patron is called upon to allow for dreams, as well as realities, and is denied the right of question and search; since how can he tell, but that such very scrutiny may bring, of itself, destruction