Have any of our friends any persons of this description amongst the
young men of their acquaintance? We think they must, for they are very
plentiful: they are to be found every where. We ourselves know somewhere
about half a dozen of one kind or other; and it is of these different
kinds we purpose here to speak.
Before doing this, however, let us remark, that the sort of geniuses to
whom we allude are to be found amongst young men only: for, generally
speaking, it is only while men _are_ young that they are subject to the
delusion of supposing themselves geniuses. As they advance in life,
they begin to suspect that there has been some mistake in the matter. A
few years more, and they become convinced of it; when, wisely dropping
all pretensions to the character, they step quietly back into the ranks
amongst their fellows.
It is true that some old fools, especially amongst the poetical tribe,
continue to cling to the unhappy belief of their being gifted, and go on
writing maudlin rhymes to the end of the chapter. But most men become in
time alive to the real state of the case, and, willingly resigning the
gift of genius, are thankful to find that they have common sense.
While under the hallucination alluded to, however, the sort of geniuses
of whom we speak are rather amusing subjects of study. We have known
a great many of them in our day, and have found that they resolve
themselves into distinct classes, such classes being formed by certain
differing characteristics and pretensions: the individuals of each class,
however, presenting in their peculiarities a striking resemblance to each
other.
First comes, at any rate in such order shall we take them, the Poetical
Genius. This is a poor, bleached-faced thing, with a simpering,
self-satisfied countenance, an effeminate air and manner, and of
insufferable conceit. It is an insolent creature too, for it treats
you and everybody with the most profound contempt. Its calm, confident
smirk, and lack-a-daisical look, are amongst the most provoking things in
nature, and always inspire you with a violent desire to kick it out of
your presence.
The poetical genius is by far the most useless of the whole tribe of
geniuses. Wrapt up in his misty, maudlin dreams of cerulean heavens, and
daisied meads, and purling rills, he is totally unfitted for the ordinary
business of ordinary life. He is besides not unfrequently a little
deranged in his upper works. Having heard, or having of himself imbibed
a notion, that madness and genius are allied, he, although of perfectly
sane mind originally, takes to raving, to staring wildly about him, and
to practising various of the other extravagances of insanity, till he
becomes actually half cracked: some of them indeed get stark staring mad.
The poetical genius is addicted to tea parties, and to writing in albums.
He also much affects the society of tabbies: for of all his admirers he
finds them the most liberal and indiscriminate in their praise. These
good creatures drench him with weak tea, and he in return doses them with
still weaker poetry. This is the class that supplies the newspapers with
the article just named, at least so named by courtesy, figuring therein
as J. F.’s and P. D.’s, &c.
The next class of geniuses which we propose to consider, is the
Oratorical Genius. This person labours under the delusion of supposing
himself a second Demosthenes. He is a great frequenter of debating
societies, and other similar associations, where he makes long, prosy,
unintelligible speeches--speeches full of mist and moonshine, in which no
human being can discover the slightest trace of drift or purpose. These
frothy, bubble-and-squeak orations the young gentleman prepares at home,
fitting himself and them for public exhibition by raving and ranting
them over in his own room, to the great annoyance of his neighbours.
These speeches, when they do not produce nausea, which they are very apt
to do, or at least a disagreeable feeling of squeamishness, are powerful
soporifics, and, possessing this quality, would be rather grateful than
otherwise, if one were in bed when within hearing of them; but unhappily
this pleasant effect is neutralised by the roaring and stamping that
accompanies their delivery: so that this sort of orator is in reality a
positive nuisance.
The oratorical genius is nearly, if not every bit, as conceited as the
poetical genius. He has the same provoking, self-satisfied simper, and
is in other respects a still greater bore, for his forensic habits and
practices, without furnishing him with a single additional idea, have
given him an unhappy fluency of speech, which he himself mistakes for
eloquence, and with which he mercilessly inundates every one whom he can
get beneath the spout of his oratorical pump. Every thing he says to
you is said in set phrase--in the stiff, formal, affected language of
the debating society. His remarks on the most ordinary subjects are all
regular built speeches--dull, long-winded, prosy things, smelling strong
of the forum.
We know a speculative or debating society man the moment he opens his
mouth. We know him by his studied, prolix phraseology, and much, much do
we dread him, for of all earthly bores he is the most intolerable. To be
obliged to listen to his maudlin philosophy and misty metaphysics--for
they are all to a man philosophers or metaphysicians--is about one of the
most distressing inflictions we know.
The next genius on our list is the Universal Genius, perhaps the most
amusing of the whole fraternity. This gentleman, although perfectly
satisfied that he is a genius, and a very great genius too, does not
know himself precisely in what he excels. He has no definite ideas on
the subject, and in this respect is rather at a loss. But he enjoys a
delightful consciousness of a capacity that would enable him to surpass
in anything to which he might choose to devote himself, and that in
fact he does surpass in everything. His pretensions therefore rest on
a very broad basis, and embrace all human attainments. He is in short
a universal genius. This gentleman is very apt to assume peculiarities
in dress and exterior appearance, to wear odd things in an odd way, and
to sport a few eccentricities because he has heard or imagines that all
geniuses are eccentric. These are common and favourite expedients with
the would-be genius, who moreover frequently adds dissipation to his
distinguishing characteristics, it being a pretty general notion that
genius is drunken, and of a wild and irregular life.
To make out this character, then, the universal genius takes to breaking
the public lamps, wrenching off bell-handles, kicking up rows in taverns
with the waiters and others, and on the streets with the police; gets
his head broken and his eyes blackened; keeps late hours, and goes
home drunk every night; and thus becomes a genius of the first order.
This sort of genius, we have observed, is much addicted to wearing odd
sorts of head-dresses, fantastic caps all befurred and betasselled, and
moreover greatly affects the bare throat, or wearing only an apology for
a neckcloth, with shirt-collar turned down--in this aiming at a fine wild
brigandish sort of look and appearance, much coveted by geniuses of a
certain order.
Nature, however, does not always favour those ambitious attempts
at the bold and romantic, for we often find them associated with
snub noses, lantern jaws, and the most stupid and unmeaning
countenances, that express anything but a consonance of character with
pretension. We have known geniuses of this kind--the bare-necked and
turned-down-collared--set up for romantic desperadoes on the strength of
a hairy throat and a pair of bushy whiskers.
The great class of universal geniuses now under consideration may,
on close inspection, be found to subdivide itself into several minor
classes, including the Sublime Genius, the Solemn Genius, and another
tribe which has hitherto been, we rather think, without a name, but which
we shall take the liberty of calling the Dirty Genius. This is a curious
species of the race. The dirty genius delights in unkempt locks, which
he not only allows but encourages to hang about his face and behind on
his coat collar, in large tangled filthy looking masses. He delighteth
also in an unwashed face, in dirty linen, and in a general slovenliness
and shabbiness of apparel. The pretensions of this genius are very high;
for he affects to be superior to all the common observances of civilised
life; its courtesies and amenities he holds in the most sovereign
contempt; despises soap and water, and rises proudly above white
stockings and clean shirts.
There are several other descriptions of geniuses, on each of which we
could say an edifying word or two, but reserve them for another occasion.