Then thy soft ray so passing sweet,
Has beamed around my hallowed seat.

And I have loved thee, star!

When in night's diadem,

I saw thee lovelier, brighter, far

Than all the steliate worlds, and thought
Of that great star the wise men sought,

And came to Bethlehem,
To view the infant Saviour's face,

The last bright hope of Adam's race.

Frederick Co. Va.

GENIUS.

T. J. S.

experientiam et ad particularia de integro applicet, de eo melius sperandum est." Such was the opinion of the great father of modern philosophy.

On the other hand these vulgar errors and superstitions, these "theoriæ et notiones communes," supply the means of producing the strongest effect of poetry. The dull scenes of real life can never be suffered to chill the ardor of a romantic imagination. And as the poet finds truth too plain and unadorned to satisfy his enthusiastic fancy, he is compelled to seek subjects and scenery of more faultless nature and brighter hues than this world affords. He delights in combinations of the most striking images. The grand and imposing, the dark and terrific, the furious and desolating-whatever serves to fill the mind with awe and wonder, are his Pope says in the preface to his works, "What we favorite subjects of contemplation. The legends of sucall a genius is hard to be distinguished, by a man | perstition contribute largely to the effect of poetical himself, from a strong inclination." Such a distinction composition. The enthusiast loves to fancy the agency is certainly hard to make, and in my opinion has no of supernatural beings, and endeavors to feel the influexistence. Genius, as it appears to me, is merely a ence of those emotions which such a belief is suited to decided preference for any study or pursuit, which enables its possessor to give the close and unwearied attention necessary to ensure success. When this constancy of purpose is wanting, the brightest natural talents will give little aid in acquiring literary or scientific eminence: and where it exists in any considerable degree, it is rare to find one so ill endowed with common sense as not to gain a respectable standing.

Genius is of two sorts, which may be termed philosophical and poetical. When the mind takes most pleasure in the exercise of reason, the genius displayed is philosophical; when the fictions of fancy give the greatest delight, the cast of mind is poetical. All the operations of the human intellect may be referred to one of these, or to a combination of both. Books of this last character are much the most numerous; for we seldom find a work so severely argumentative as to exclude all play of imagination even as ornament, or so entirely poetical as never to allow the restraint of sober

reason.

inspire. This seems to be the spirit of Collins in the
following lines of his ode to fear.

"Dark power, with shuddering meek submitted thought,
Be mine to read the visions old
Which thy awakening bards have told;
And lest thou meet my blasted view,
Hold each strange tale devoutly true."

In combinations of poetical images, no regard is had to their consistency with truth and reason. It is the part of philosophy to discover relations as they exist in nature; but to search out and combine into one glowing and harmonious whole the brightest and grandest images which art or nature supplies-this is the province of poetry. The utmost calmness and most collected thought are necessary to that patient and laborious reasoning by which progress is made in the science of truth. The fury of impassioned feeling, on the other hand, supports the loftier flights of poetry. Hence philosophy and poetry rarely meet in the same individual. Yet the smallness of the number of those who have gained renown both as poets and philosophers, is These two kinds of genius require different and pe- to be ascribed less to any incompatibility between the culiar faculties. In philosophy, where the great end habits of mind peculiar to each, than to the fact that proposed is the discovery of truth, the coloring of ima- the short space of human life will not allow to both the gination should be carefully avoided as useless and attention necessary for their highest attainments. I deceptive. It is necessary to divest the mind as far as speak now of poetical and philosophical genius, not of possible of all pre-conceived opinions, that so the proofs poetry and philosophy. Between the two last there is presented may make just the impression which their an incompatibility, as may easily be shown. Euclid's character and importance demand. No prejudice or elements, for example, contain as pure specimens of association of former ideas must be allowed to bias the mere reasoning as can be conceived; but in them simjudgment; but the question should be decided in strict | plicity, clearness and precision of terms are all the ornaaccordance with the deductions of the sternest reason. ment they need or will admit: nor can poetical language And yet this perfect freedom from prejudice, however be used by any arrangement without producing obscunecessary to the proper use of right reason, is perhaps the most difficult effort of the human mind. "Nemo adhuc," says Lord Bacon, in a passage quoted by Stewart in the introduction to his mental philosophy, "Nemo adhuc tanta mentis constantia inventus est, ut decreverit et sibi imposuerit theorias et notiones communes A most extraordinary combination of poetical and penitus abolere, et intellectum abrasum et æquum ad philosophical talent in one individual was displayed by particularia de integro applicare. Itaque illa ratio hu- Lucretius. I might challenge the whole circle of science mana quam habemus ex multa fide et multo etiam casu, or literature to furnish examples of clearer, closer and necnon ex puerilibus quas primo hausimus notionibus, more irrefutable argument than his work presents. farrago quædam est et congeries. Quod si quis, ætate And for purity, sublimity, delicacy, strength and feelmatura et sensibus integris et mente repurgata, se ading, passages of his poetry might be selected scarcely

rity and disgust. And the wild conceptions of unbridled fancy will as little brook the restraint of heartless reason. In short, poetry and philosophy are so distinct and opposed in character, that neither can ever be used to heighten the proper effect of the other.

exalted praise to Epicurus because he suffered no feelings of religious awe to interfere with his philosophical investigations. In this passage superstition (or religion, to use his own term) is personified, and represented as some hideous monster thrusting her head from out the skies, and regarding mankind with an awful and terrible aspect. The whole image presented is eminently grand and poetic.

inferior to any effort of ancient or modern times. Yet | Yet in the next page the philosopher avows his intenhis work may well be chosen to furnish proof that evention of waging eternal war with superstition; and gives the brightest genius cannot combine austere logic and gorgeous poetry, so as that each shall produce its due effect. For although where the reasoning is not deep the embellishments of fancy may be borne and even relished, yet where the argument requires close and laborious thought, the reader is willing to sacrifice all the ornaments of poetry to the simpler grace of perspicuity. But it is mostly in episodes and illustrations that the fire of his poetic genius burns so brightly; and here we see him throw off the fetters of truth to wander in the haunted fields of fiction. And although his work displays intense thought and burning poetry, we rarely find them united in the same passage.

"Humana ante oculos fede quam vita jaceret
In terris oppressa gravi sub religione;
Quæ caput a coli regionibus obtendebat,
Horribili super adspectu mortalibus instans ;
Primum Graius homo mortaleis tollere contra
Est oculos ausus, primusque obsistere contra:
Quem neque fama deum, nec fulmina, nec minitanti
Murmure compressit cœlum; sed eo magis acrem
Inritat animi virtutem effringere ut arta
Naturæ primus portarum claustra cupiret."

Confirmed habits of philosophical reflection, it is not improbable, will in time give a character of sobriety and apathy to the mind. Quick susceptibility of impressions is one mark of a poetical temperament; and of course if habits of calm reasoning destroy this sensi-Thus we see that although one great part of his purbility, philosophy and poetry cannot exist in perfection pose was to divest the mind of popular superstitions, in the same mind. But this apathetic coldness appears he found the language of philosophy too barren, and not to be the immediate effect of philosophical habits, but rather to result from disuse of the imagination while the attention is turned to graver studies. Lucretius has shown what attainments may be made in pure philosophy without lessening the strength and grace of As a philosopher Lucretius was led to reject the fancy. He was a man of the most acute and accurate legends of ancient superstition, because such terrors observation, and of the most rigid and cautious reason-kept the human mind in darkness and error.

ing, yet possessed a quick perception of the grand and beautiful, and had imbibed the warmest spirit of poetic enthusiasm.

Poetry delights in personifications. According to Dryden,

"Each virtue a divinity is seen:

Prudence is Pallas, beauty Paphos' queen;

'Tis not a cloud from which swift lightnings fly,
But Jupiter that thunders from the sky;
Nor a rough storm that gives the sailer pain,
But angry Neptune ploughing up the main;
Echo's no more an empty, airy sound,
But a fair nymph that weeps her lover drown'd:
Thus in the endless treasure of his mind,
The poet does a thousand figures find."

the images which truth presented too cold and lifeless to supply the materials of poetry. Hence his personifications, and his digressions, which abound in the richest ornaments of fancy.

"Nam velutei puerei trepidant, atque omnia cæcis
In tenebris metuunt; sic nos in luce timemus
Interdum nihilo quæ sunt metuenda magisquam
Quæ puerei in tenebris pavitant, finguntque futura.
Hunc igitur terrorem animi tenebrasque, necesse est,
Non radiei solis neque lucida tela diei
Discutiant; sed naturæ species, ratioque."

Lib. 2, lin. 54. But the spirit of poetry alone would have persuaded him to increase the gloom and mists of superstition; for fancy's favorite range is among regions darkened by the shades of ancient and venerable error. The intrusion of cold reason is always unwelcome to a romantic imagination. There is a passage of Campbell, (I cannot remember the words,) in which he la Art of Poetry, Canto 3. ments the dispersion by the clearer light of reason of Philosophy on the contrary seeks to disrobe the sub- some fanciful notions in regard, I think, to the rainbow, ject of every factitious charm, and present it to the which had formerly been the delight of his youth. mind in its naked simplicity. It dispels the clouds of Collins too regrets the restraint of imagination imposed error, though gilded with the bright colors of fancy; by philosophy. He bids farewell to metaphysics, and and boldly brings even objects of superstitious venera-declares his purpose of leaving such barren fields of tion to the light of reason.

speculation, and of retiring

These conflicting qualities are eminently shown in "to thoughtful cell Lucretius; and it is not without interest to mark how Where fancy breathes her potent spell." he contrives to blend in the same work the solid simSo much to mark the difference between poetical and plicity of argument with the lighter graces of imagina-philosophical genius. The remainder of this essay shall tion. As a poet he opens his work with an address to be devoted to the peculiarities which distinguish the Venus the mother and guardian of the Roman people, genius of poetry in particular. whose aid he invokes as the companion of his song. He prays her to avert the frowns of rugged war from the nation by the softening power of her charms. He tells her that she alone governs the universe; that nothing springs into the light of day without her; and ascribes to her, as the source of all pleasure, whatever is joyous or lovely.

"Nec sine te quidquam dias in luminis oras

Exoritur, neque fit lætum neque amabile quidquam."

It has been often remarked that men of brilliant fancy are never satisfied with the productions of their own minds. The images of grandeur or beauty continually present to their imaginations, it would seem, are so far superior to all efforts they can make to embody them in language, that their own works never yield them the pleasure which they give others. The following quo• tation is from the seventh chapter, sixth section, of Stewart's Elements of the Philosophy of the Human

Mind.

ment unformed, redundance in words and ornament may be pardoned; but it is a sure evidence of feeble genius to continue the same style in riper age. Hortensius, Cicero's rival, was in his youth admired for his florid oratory; but in after life was justly despised for the same childish taste. The most elegant writers always select the simplest words. Learning should appear in the subject, but never in the language. Even the powers of Johnson were too weak to preserve his ponderous learned style from ridicule. It may be assumed as a universal rule, that when two words equally express the same meaning, the shortest and simplest is always the best.

"When the notions of enjoyment or of excellence which imagination has formed are greatly raised above the ordinary standard, they interest the passions too deeply to leave us at all times the cool exercise of reason, and produce that state of the mind which is commonly known by the name of enthusiasm; a temper which is one of the most fruitful sources of error and disappointment; but which is a source, at the same time, of heroic actions and of exalted characters. To the exaggerated conceptions of eloquence which perpetually revolved in the mind of Cicero; to that idea which haunted his thoughts of aliquid immensum infinitumque, we are indebted for some of the most splendid displays of human genius: and it is probable that something of the same kind has been felt by every man who has risen much above the level of humanity either in speculation or in action." To the want of this high imaginary standard of excellence, Dr. Johnson ascribes the dullness of Blackmore's poetry. "It does not appear," he says, "that he saw beyond his own perform-letter to a friend: and yet his works are said by Dugald ances, or had ever elevated his views to that ideal perfection which every genius born to excel is condemned always to pursue and never overtake. In the first suggestions of his imagination he acquiesced; he thought them good and did not seek for better. His works may be read a long time without the occurrence of a single line that stands prominent from the rest."

When the enthusiasm of poetry is joined with a correct and chastened judgment, the utmost fastidiousness in composition is often produced. To this may be ascribed the small number and extent of writings left by some of our best authors. "I am tormented with a desire to write better than I can," said Robert Hall in a

Stewart (himself an admirable writer in point of style) to combine the beauties of Addison, Johnson and Burke, without their defects, and to contain the purest specimens of the English language. And of Pascal too, it is told that he spent much time in revising and correcting what to others appeared from the first almost too perfect for amendment. Gray, who had genius to become a pre-eminent poet, was never content with the polish which repeated revisions were able to give his works. The conclusion of Boileau's second Satire is so

Examples of such ardent aspirations after the grande et immensum, are frequent among our best poets. Let the following from Lord Byron suffice. In this will plainly appear that agony in giving birth to the sub-appropriate to my purpose, that I will give it in full.

lime conceptions of his imagination, which metaphysicians say is a sure mark of lofty genius. After describing a terrific thunderstorm in language suited to the majesty of his subject, he proceeds:

"Could I embody and unbosom now

That which is most within me,-could I wreak
My thoughts upon expression, and thus throw
Soul, heart, mind, passions, feelings, strong or weak,
All that I would have sought, and all I seek,
Bear, know, feel, and yet breathe-into one word,
And that one word were lightning, I would speak;
But as it is, I live and die unheard,

With a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword."
The same burning enthusiasm prevails throughout the
odes of Collins, whose works breathe as much the soul
of poetry as is shown by any bard of Greece or Rome.
This trait of genius often betrays young writers into
a style of affected grandiloquence, which their feeble-
ness of thought makes doubly ridiculous. Yet this
pompous style of writing is often a genuine mark of
superior powers. Quintilian thinks extravagance a
more favorable sign in a very young writer, than a more
sedate simplicity; for his maturer judgment may be
safely left to prune such luxuriance, but where the soil
is barren by nature, no art of cultivation will produce
a vigorous growth. Scarcely any writer was ever
guilty of more extravagance than Lucan; but his poem
was written in the earliest spring of manhood, and
shows such strength of genius as would probably have
made him equal to Homer, had his rising powers been
suffered to reach their utmost elevation, and receive the
corrections of his finished taste.

But here it may not be amiss to mention that a style of such affected pomp is tolerable only in young writers. When the fancy is fresh and vigorous, and the judg

"Un sot, en écrivant, fait tout avec plaisir : Il n'a point en ses vers l'embarras de choisir ; Et toujours amoureux de ce qu'il vient d'écrire, Ravi d'étonnement, en soi-meme il s' admire. Mais un esprit sublime en vain veut s'élever A ce degré parfait qu'il tache de trouver; Et, toujours mécontent de ce qu'il vient de faire, Il plait a tout le monde, et ne saurait se plaire.” And in a note on this passage, "Voila, s'écria Molière, en interrompant son ami a cet endroit, voila la plus belle vérité que vous ayez jamais dite. Je ne suis pas du nombre de ces esprits sublimes dont vous parlez; mais tel que je suis, je n'ai rien fait en ma vie dont je sois veritablement content." Horace too speaks much the same language in several places.

Of Shakspeare, the greatest poetical genius probably which the world ever produced, our ignorance of his life permits us to speak only from his works. But the fact that he scarcely ever condescended to revise his plays, and took no care to preserve them from oblivion, is ample proof how little his mind was satisfied with its own sublime productions. Shakspeare is an illustrious example of transcendent genius joined with unfinished taste. He had to depend entirely on his own resources, for the best models he had access to were not more faultless than his own writings, while they fell infinitely below him in every positive excellence. His works, in parts, show sublimity, delicacy, and grace of poetry, unequalled perhaps by the productions of any writer before or since. Yet his warmest admirers are often scandalized by the strange conceited witticisms and other evidences of bad taste so abundant in his writings. Still, the Bard of Avon's works will ever rank among the noblest efforts of dramatic poetry.

Poetical genius is always united with a love of sym

pathy. This is the reason why men of warm imagi- | such sensations are abstract thought. Reasoning and nations so seldom fully relish a poem when read alone. Robert Hall, in one remarkable passage, says, that the most ardent admirer of poetry or oratory would not consent to witness their grandest display on the sole condition that he should never reveal his emotions.

reflection on these abstract ideas thus obtained, constitute speculations of still greater refinement. Comparing and combining ideas in the mind, for the purpose of discovering relations as they exist in nature, is argument. Such comparisons and combinations made for the purpose of pleasing, are works of fancy, or poetry. He then who most carefully preserves his impressions, most attentively considers and revolves his ideas, and most closely and accurately compares them for the purpose of discovering such combinations as nature has made,

It is also generally, and perhaps always, joined with a thirst of fame. This feeling impels the poet to make arduous exertions. It is the passion which, as metaphysicians say, is implanted in the human breast as an incentive to deeds beneficial to society. Whether it be in its nature culpable or not, is perhaps a difficult ques-or of combining anew the separate images into such tion. Quintilian says that if it be not itself a virtue, it is certainly often the cause of virtuous actions; and this assertion few will venture to question. And at all events, this passion has ever been a characteristic of the greatest men. Few have risen to eminence without its aid. It existed largely in Byron. In verses written shortly after the publication of his English Bards and Scotch Reviewers, he says:

"The fire in the cavern of Etna concealed, Still mantles unseen in its secret recess;

At length in a volume terrific revealed,

No torrent can quench it, no bounds can repress.

Oh, thus the desire in my bosom for fame

Bids me live but to hope for posterity's praise:
Could I soar with the Phoenix on pinions of flame,
With him I could wish to expire in the blaze."

How happy for the world had his genius led him to
seek applause in works designed for the good of man-
kind-in recommending religion and virtue by the me-
lody of his verse and the influence of his life, instead of
adorning vice with the beauties of poetry!

When the thirst of glory is disappointed, the aspirant is apt to become a gloomy misanthropist, who envies others the reputation which he cannot attain. Much of the sullen melancholy shown by men of genius may doubtless be ascribed to the perverted operation of this principle. The portion of fame which falls to their share is not sufficient to satisfy their wishes.

grand and beautiful fabrics as may suit the taste of fancy, is likely to make the best philosopher or poet, as his attention is mainly turned to one or the other. Some difference in natural faculties no doubt exists, but this is probably small.*

A LOAN TO THE MESSENGER.

No. II.

Here is a scrap from another of my poetical friends, which has never seen the light, and which I will lend to the readers of the Messenger for the month. I give it as it came to me, apology and all, and doubt not it will be well received by those to whom I now dedicate it.

J. F. 0.

My Dear 0,-Instead of writing something new for your collection, I copy a few lines from a bagatelle, written a few days ago to a woman who is worthy of better verses: and, as they will never be published, of course, they may answer your purpose. Very truly yours,

Boston, August, 1831.

ΤΟ

Lady! the fate that made me poor,
Forgot to take away my heart,-
And 'tis not easy to immure

The burning soul, and live apart :
To meet the wildering touch of beauty,
And hear her voice,-and think of duty:

WILLIS.

THE

BIBLIO

To check a thought of burning passion,
When trembling on the lip like flame,—
And talk indifferently of fashion,-
A language choked till it is tame!

But after all, the most brilliant genius will avail nothing without study. No illiterate man ever gained renown as a writer. Some have become great without the aid of foreign learning; but all have read and thought. No man is born a poet in the ordinary sense of the word. Whatever his own conceptions may be, he cannot reveal them without the use of words; and this knowledge can be acquired only by diligent study. In all time it has been true that they who have read and thought most, have made the greatest writers, whatever line of science or literature they pursued. Or perhaps there ought to be exceptions made in cases where the mind has been misdirected, as among the schoolmen, who spent their lives in perplexing themselves and others with subtle questions which it was of no use to solve. But however fruitless such labors as wasted their energies may be, this at least is certain, that without study no man will become great, whatever be his natural talents. Even such towering geniuses as Ho-tributors-but in the present instance we feel called upon in self*Of course no Editor is responsible for the opinions of his conmer, Aristotle, Cicero, Virgil, Shakspeare, Bacon, New-defence to disclaim any belief in the doctrines advanced-and, ton, and Byron were not exempt from this necessity.

Oh God! I know not why I'm gifted
With feeling, if I may not love!
I know not why my cup is lifted
So far my thirsting lips above!

My look on thine unchidden lingers,
My hand retains thy dewy fingers,
Thy smile, thy glance, thy glorious tone
For hours and hours are mine alone:

moreover, to enter a solemn protest against them. The Essay on Genius is well written and we therefore admitted it. While many of its assumptions are indisputable-some we think are the spirit of the age. Our correspondent is evidently no phrenot to be sustained-and the inferences, generally, lag far behind

To conclude: Locke has sufficiently proved that all our ideas are originally derived from the senses. These first impressions form the basis of all human knowledge. General conclusions drawn from comparison of nologist.--Ed.

If this "loan" prove acceptable, I have a choice one Latin verse by Ennius. in store for May.

SOME ANCIENT GREEK AUTHORS. most celebrated nations in the world. Besides this, he

Whether Homer or Hesiod lived first has never been determined. Herodotus supposes them both to have Euripides, who lived at this time, wrote 75 or, as some lived at the same time, viz. B. C. 884. The Arun. mar-say, 92 tragedies, of which only 19 are extant. He was bles make them contemporaries, but place their era B. C. 907. Besides the Iliad and Odyssey, Homer wrote, according to some, a poem upon Amphiaraus' expedition against Thebes; Also, the Phoceis, the Cercopes, the small Iliad, the Epiciclides, the Batrachomyomachia, and some Hymns to the Gods.