The Judge, for sure, will bow His head;
      And, round the throne,
  Angels will know to God they’ve led
      His very own. 
  This sentence then shall gently fall: 
      “Irene, you
  Have done your best:  and that is all
      Even God can do.”

MAGNIFICENT ENDS
[Sidenote:  Disraeli in “Vivian Grey"]

In the plenitude of his ambition he stopped one day to enquire in what manner he could obtain his magnificent ends:  “The Bar—­pooh! law and bad jokes till we are forty; and then with the most brilliant success, the prospect of gout and a coronet.  Besides, to succeed as an advocate, I must be a great lawyer, and to be a great lawyer, I must give up my chance of being a great man.  The Services in war time are only fit for desperadoes (and that truly am I); but, in peace, are fit only for fools.  The Church is more rational.  Let me see:  I should certainly like to act Wolsey, but the thousand and one chances against me! and truly I feel my destiny should not be on a chance.  Were I the son of a millionaire, or a noble, I might have all.  Curse on my lot! that the want of a few rascal counters, and the possession of a little rascal blood should mar my fortunes!”

GENIUS, WHEN YOUNG [Sidenote:  Disraeli in “Coningsby"]

“Nay,” said the stranger; “for life in general there is but one decree.  Youth is a blunder; Manhood a struggle; Old Age a regret.  Do not suppose,” he added smiling, “that I hold that youth is genius; all that I say is that genius, when young, is divine.  Why, the greatest captains of ancient and modern times both conquered Italy at five-and-twenty!  Youth, extreme youth, overthrew the Persian Empire.  Don John of Austria won Lepanto at twenty-five, the greatest battle of modern time; had it not been for the jealousy of Philip, the next year he would have been Emperor of Mauretania.  Gaston de Foix was only twenty-two when he stood a victor on the plain of Ravenna.  Every one remembers Conde and Rocroy at the same age.  Gustavus Adolphus—­look at his captains; that wonderful Duke of Weimar, only thirty-six when he died.  Banier himself, after all his miracles, died at forty-five.  Cortes was little more than thirty when he gazed upon the golden cupolas of Mexico.  When Maurice of Saxony died, at thirty-two, all Europe acknowledged the loss of the greatest captain and the profoundest statesman of the age.  Then there is Nelson, Clive; but these are warriors, and perhaps you may think there are greater things than war.  I do not:  I worship the Lord of Hosts.  But take the most illustrious achievements of civil prudence.  Innocent III., the greatest of the Popes, was the despot of Christendom at thirty-seven.  John de Medici was a Cardinal at fifteen, and, according to Guicciardini, baffled with his statecraft Ferdinand of Aragon himself.  He was Pope as Leo X. at thirty-seven.  Luther robbed even him of his richest province at thirty-five.  Take Ignatius Loyola and John Wesley; they worked with young brains.  Ignatius was only thirty when he made his pilgrimage and wrote the “Spiritual Exercises.”  Pascal wrote a great work at sixteen, and died at thirty-seven, the greatest of Frenchmen.