THE UNLOVED PHILOSOPHY. OH! teach not that Spring's early flowers Which, ere the first of Autumn hours, I love not thy philosophy. Shall things so passing fair As these sweet roses fade and die ?- Still cast sweet odours fresh and rare- I love not thy philosophy. Oh! teach not that the golden ray O'er this sweet light, and only leave Oh! teach not that Love's early dream And, like the bubble of a stream, Ere frosty age depart ; I love not thy philosophy. Shall passions pure and bright As Love and Friendship withered lie?— Those stars that lend their cheering light To us poor pilgrims of the night Shall these our guardian angels die?— I love not thy philosophy! Oh! teach not that Hope's golden fire But dazzles to betray, And that the chords of Fancy's lyre Fall one by one away ;— I love not thy philosophy. Shall lights like those that shone O'er youth's ideal phantasy, And chords that lent so sweet a tone To early days-shall these be gone? Oh! rather let the spirit fly ; I love not thy philosophy! C. H. H. CHAPTERS ON GENIUS. I. "In freta dum fluvii current, dum montibus umbræ Semper honos, nomenque tuum, laudesque manebunt." Eneid. lib. i. MEN of genius are like trees growing amidst underwood, or they are like the public buildings of a city, rising above the common dwellings, and far exceeding them in size and beauty; they constitute the aristocracy of talent, and shine with a peculiar and unrivalled lustre. Running a fleeter and a nobler race, they strive for greater prizes than the rest of men; they appear as streaks of light amidst the darkness which envelopes the trackless past; they compose the chronicles of time, being not only the historians of action, but of thought; they are the great discoverers and advocates of truth, the timely innovators, the all-powerful reformers; the field of their efforts, not limited by a narrow circle, is the entire world. They have no golden sceptres, like those glittering in kingly hands, which "come like shadows, so depart;" theirs is a sway, which is secure from overthrow, and fears no rebellion, extended rapidly by the progress of civilization, and the march of time; and embracing subjects of all nations and of every climate. No pomp, no pageantry, no regal purple adorns their court, where Intellect sits crowned with leaves of laurel, Fame's favourite tree, and blesses beneficently all who do it homage. They have achieved warlike triumphs, but their peaceful victories are far more glorious. Their aim has been to increase the knowledge and advance the interests of mankind; to distribute bountifully from their horn of plenty unwithering fruits; to strengthen, elevate, enlarge and beautify the social fabric; to impart to man right notions of himself, by the investigation of his physical and mental nature; to endow him with learning and teach him to be wise; to inform him in quietude, counsel him in action; and be to him a staff, an authority, a guide. They found a wilderness where they have left a garden-chaos and confusion where order reigns. They are the companions of princes, and the poor man's friends. the impartial advisers of every class, rank, creed, and denomination. They are They have lived and toiled for all, and have bequeathed their property to posterity. Their labours, and theirs only, are reverenced by Time, the great destroyer; ruthless as he is, he spares them, and procures for them the veneration which he yields himself. They have left us pastures which are ever verdant, permeated by rivulets which never dry, and enamelled by flowers which blossom everlastingly. And when we ponder over some of their productions, with which nothing in the material world can vie, we resemble Rasselas, who, when listening to the poet, "regretted the necessity of sleep, and longed till the morning should renew his pleasure." It is difficult to define genius, so various are its forms, so contrary are its effects, so different are the circumstances which call forth its exertions. If it be comparable to the adamant for duration, it may certainly vie with the chameleon in its hues. Johnson describes it as "a mind of large general powers accidentally determined by some particular direction;" as if a man of genius, conscious of his energy, could not voluntarily determine it towards a special object, or as if accident were necessary to call it into action. The introduction of the word "general" has also damaged this attempted definition; the sculptor is not convertible into the orator, nor the mathematician into the poet. "On this principle," as D'Israeli well observes, "we must infer that the reasoning Locke or the arithmetical De Moivre could have been the musical and fairy Spenser." Agreeing with Dr. Johnson, we might imagine the impassioned Kean excelling in mechanics, and Mozart glorying in facts and figures; we might fancy Gray the author of Hudibras, and Butler the composer of Gray's pathetic Elegy. The same author has also asserted, with a strange oversight of what is palpably correct, "that the supposition of one man having more imagination, another more judgment, is not true; it is only one man has more mind than another." To this he adds, with a grave emphasis, "He who has vigour may walk to the east as well as the west if he happens to turn his head that way;" a circumstance it would be ridiculous to deny, but the physical movements of a pedestrian, methinks, bear no analogy whatever to mental action, and altogether fail to illustrate it. The simile by no means settles the matter; and even Boswell might have argued with the lexicographer on this point and gained the victory, for he could have accumulated heaps on heaps of instances to show that imagination has been wanting, comparatively to speak, in some minds of acknowledged greatness. Even Dr. Johnson himself must have admitted that Locke had much mind, but not much imagination; a fact rendered the more glaring by a comparison of the plain dress wherewith that philosopher has clothed his arguments with the rich and splendid garment of imagery which has embellished the author of the Novum Organon. One might fairly conclude from Dr. Johnson's expression, that mind was imagination, and imagination mind; whereas imagination is a part only of the intellect, a most complex instrument, composed of many faculties, some predominating in one man, and some in another, as this distinguished author must surely have observed. Nature, in spite of the theories of philosophers, and the dogmas of the schools, confers upon us peculiar aptitudes for especial pursuits, and our minds, so far from being blanks of white paper, alike susceptible of all impressions, readily receive those only of a certain kind. So it is likewise with genius itself; and though universality has sometimes characterised it, the instances are far more numerous where it has been remarkable for some special excellence. And where it has employed itself on many topics, with a capacity of gaining the mastery in each, it is to be surmised, with reason, that its efforts would have been more rewarded by being more confined, that the victory would have been more decisive had the attack been more concentrated; for however large and wonderful may be its faculties, truth will always seem to it an illimitable ocean, and, (as Newton has expressed it,) it can only collect a few pebbles by the shore. It may labour, and labour still, but the greater the knowledge, the more intense will the sensation of ignorance become. Whilst it is only acquainted with the alphabet of nature it may be vain, but when it shall know her language it will be humble. So short is time, so circumscribed even the most transcendent human faculties, and so vast is truth, that genius always shines most brightly where it selects a study the most congenial to its nature, and confines itself to that; for however minute the subject, it will leave something undiscovered in its research. Can it say to the moss, I have surveyed thee with my microscope, and nothing of thy structure has escaped mine eye-I have thought upon thy growth, and am acquainted entirely with thy means of increase-I have examined thy qualities, and can tell all thy uses? There is a remark of Newton which is often quoted, partly because it is Newton's, and partly because of its intrinsic moment, yet we venture to suppose that more stress has been laid upon it sometimes than it merits. When Newton was asked how the principle of gravity was discovered, he answered, “By always thinking of it." "Let us point out," says M.Arago, "in these simple words of the great author of the Principia, what is the true secret of men of genius." But this eminent philosopher has, in this comment, left entirely unanswered two important questions—what stimulated Newton to thought? what made his thinking so fertile in result? The cause must not be confounded with the effect; the machine with the operation. An inferior mind might have thought as long, as patiently as Newton, and yet found out nothing; or some abortive and malformed apology for a being might have been the issue the "ridiculus mus." Do not men think with different intensities? Do not some perform the process imperfectly through natural defects? Do not others, in contemplation and abstraction, make those discoveries which agitate the world? To be "always thinking" may be an employment of genius, and an apt one, but with its essence it may have nothing to do whatever. The watch at rest is not the less a watch because it is inactive, and there is latent genius; and when Gray spoke of the "village Hampden" and "inglorious Milton," he was labouring under no poetical delusion; "But knowledge to their eyes her ample page, Like pearls which have found no pearl-divers, they have been hidden and buried in the depths of a hopeless and impenetrable obscurity. They have resembled the seed, which, from want of those circumstances needful for its germination, has been thought valueless as the common chaff-no eye has seen its properties, no hand has placed it in a genial soil. The subject of latent genius suggests a number of curious reflections. Greater prodigies than the world has seen may have come and gone again like undeveloped embryos! And He, who formed the human mind, could call from nothingness, men who would leave Bacon in the distance, and throw Shakspere into the shade; ay, though their faculties were unassisted, and education refused her potential aid. Sir Joshua Reynolds has remarked, that "even genius, at least what generally is so called, is the child of imitation." He was speaking of painting; but even in relation to that art, we question the truth of the observation. Had he observed how much genius is indebted to and aided by imitation, he would have given utterance |