set in motion by a scoundrel-blockhead; plays tunes, like a
barrel-organ, at the scoundrel-blockhead's touch,--has to snatch,
namely, his sceptre cudgel, and weal the crooked back with bumps
and thumps! Let a chief of men reflect well on it. Not in
having 'no business' with men, but in having no unjust business
with them, and in _having_ all manner of true and just business,
can either his or their blessedness be found possible, and this
waste world become, for both parties, a home and peopled garden.

Men do reverence men. Men do worship in that 'one temple of the
world,' as Novalis calls it, the Presence of a Man! Hero-
worship, true and blessed, or else mistaken, false and accursed,
goes on everywhere and everywhen. In this world there is one
godlike thing, the essence of all that was or ever will be of
godlike in this world: the veneration done to Human Worth by the
hearts of men. Hero-worship, in the souls of the heroic, of the
clear and wise,--it is the perpetual presence of Heaven in our
poor Earth: when it is not there, Heaven is veiled from us; and
all is under Heaven's ban and interdict, and there is no worship,
or worthship, or worth or blessedness in the Earth any more!--

Independence, 'lord of the lion-heart and eagle-eye'--alas, yes,
he is a lord we have got acquainted with in these late times: a
very indispensable lord, for spurning off with due energy
innumerable sham-superiors, Tailor-made: honour to him, entire
success to him! Entire success is sure to him. But he must not
stop there, at that small success, with his eagle-eye. He has
now a second far greater success to gain: to seek out his real
superiors, whom not the Tailor but the Almighty God has made
superior to him, and see a little what he will do with these!
Rebel against these also? Pass by with minatory eagle-glance,
with calm-sniffing mockery, or even without any mockery or sniff,
when these present themselves? The lion-hearted will never dream
of such a thing. Forever far be it from him! His minatory
eagle-glance will veil itself in softness of the dove: his lion-
heart will become a lamb's; all is just indignation changed into
just reverence, dissolved in blessed floods of noble humble love,
how much heavenlier than any pride, nay, if you will, how much
prouder! I know him, this lion-hearted, eagle-eyed one; have
met him, rushing on, 'with bosom bare,' in a very distracted
dishevelled manner, the times being