Of natural genius.--Minds constitutionally different cannot have an equal
aptitude.--Genius not the result of habit and education.--Originates in
peculiar qualities of the mind.--The predisposition of genius.--A
substitution for the white paper of Locke.[A]
[Footnote A: In the second edition of this work in 1818, I touched on some
points of this inquiry in the second chapter: I almost despaired to find
any philosopher sympathise with the subject, so invulnerable, they
imagine, are the entrenchments of their theories. I was agreeably
surprised to find these ideas taken up in the _Edinburgh Review_ for
August, 1820, in an entertaining article on Reynolds. I have, no doubt,
profited by the perusal, though this chapter was prepared before I met
with that spirited vindication of "an inherent difference in the organs or
faculties to receive impressions of any kind."]
That faculty in art which individualises the artist, belonging to him and
to no other, and which in a work forms that creative part whose likeness
is not found in any other work--is it inherent in the constitutional
dispositions of the Creator, or can it be formed by patient acquisition?
Astonished at their own silent and obscure progress, some have imagined
that they have formed their genius solely by their own studies; when they
generated, they conceived that they had acquired; and, losing the
distinction between nature and habit, with fatal temerity the idolatry of
philosophy substituted something visible and palpable, yet shaped by the
most opposite fancies, called a Theory, for Nature herself! Men of genius,
whose great occupation is to be conversant with the inspirations of
Nature, made up a factitious one among themselves, and assumed that they
could operate without the intervention of the occult original. But Nature
would not be mocked; and whenever this race of idolaters have worked
without her agency, she has afflicted them with the most stubborn
sterility.
Theories of genius are the peculiar constructions of our own philosophical
times; ages of genius had passed away, and they left no other record than
their works; no preconcerted theory described the workings of the
imagination to be without imagination, nor did they venture to teach how
to invent invention.
The character of genius, viewed as the effect of habit and education, on
the principle of the equality of the human mind, infers that men have an
equal aptitude for the work of genius: a paradox which, with a more fatal
one, came from the French school, and arose probably from an equivocal
expression.
Locke employed the well-known comparison of the mind with "white paper
void of all characters," to free his famous "Inquiry" from that powerful
obstacle to his system, the absurd belief of "innate ideas," of notions of
objects before objects were presented to observation. Our philosopher
considered that this simple analogy sufficiently described the manner in
which he conceived the impressions of the senses write themselves on the
mind. His French pupils, the amusing Helvetius, or Diderot, for they
were equally concerned in the paradoxical "L'Esprit," inferred that this
blank paper served also as an evidence that men had _an equal aptitude for
genius_, just as the blank paper reflects to us whatever characters we
trace on it. This _equality of minds_ gave rise to the same monstrous
doctrine in the science of metaphysics which that of another verbal
misconception, _the equality of men_, did in that of politics. The
Scottish metaphysicians powerfully combined to illustrate the mechanism of
the mind,--an important and a curious truth; for as rules and principles
exist in the nature of things, and when discovered are only thence drawn
out, genius unconsciously conducts itself by a uniform process; and
when this process had been traced, they inferred that what was done by
some men, under the influence of fundamental laws which regulate the
march of the intellect, must also be in the reach of others, who, in the
same circumstances, apply themselves to the same study. But these
metaphysicians resemble anatomists, under whose knife all men are alike.
They know the structure of the bones, the movement of the muscles, and
where the connecting ligaments lie! but the invisible principle of life
flies from their touch. It is the practitioner on the living body who
studies in every individual that peculiarity of constitution which forms
the idiosyncrasy.
Under the influence of such novel theories of genius, JOHNSON defined it
as "A Mind of large general powers ACCIDENTALLY determined by some
_particular direction_." On this principle we must infer that the
reasoning LOCKE, or the arithmetical DE MOIVRE, could have been the
musical and fairy SPENSER.[A] This conception of the nature of genius
became prevalent. It induced the philosophical BECCARIA to assert that
every individual had an equal degree of genius for poetry and eloquence;
it runs through the philosophy of the elegant Dugald Stewart; and
REYNOLDS, the pupil of Johnson in literature, adopting the paradox,
constructed his automatic system on this principle of _equal aptitude_. He
says, "this excellence, however expressed by genius, taste, or the gift of
Heaven, I am confident may be _acquired_." Reynolds had the modesty to
fancy that so many rivals, unendowed by nature, might have equalled the
magic of his own pencil: but his theory of industry, so essential to
genius, yet so useless without it, too long stimulated the drudges of art,
and left us without a Correggio or a Raphael! Another man of genius caught
the fever of the new system. CURRIE, in his eloquent "Life of Burns,"
swells out the scene of genius to a startling magnificence; for he asserts
that, "the talents necessary to the construction of an 'Iliad,' under
different discipline and application, might have led armies to victory or
kingdoms to prosperity; might have wielded the thunder of eloquence, or
discovered and enlarged the sciences." All this we find in the _text_; but
in the clear intellect of this man of genius a vast number of intervening
difficulties started up, and in a copious _note_ the numerous exceptions
show that the assumed theory requires no other refutation than what the
theorist has himself so abundantly and so judiciously supplied. There is
something ludicrous in the result of a theory of genius which would
place HOBBES and ERASMUS, those timid and learned recluses, to open a
campaign with the military invention and physical intrepidity of a
Marlborough; or conclude that the romantic bard of the "Fairy Queen,"
amidst the quickly-shifting scenes of his visionary reveries, could have
deduced, by slow and patient watchings of the mind, the system and the
demonstrations of Newton.
[Footnote A: It is more dangerous to define than to describe: a dry
definition excludes so much, an ardent description at once appeals to our
sympathies. How much more comprehensible our great critic becomes when he
nobly describes genius, "as the power of mind that collects, combines,
amplifies, and animates; the energy without which judgment is cold, and
knowledge is inert!" And it is this POWER OF MIND, this primary faculty
and native aptitude, which we deem may exist separately from education and
habit, since these are often found unaccompanied by genius.]
Such theorists deduce the faculty called genius from a variety of exterior
or secondary causes: zealously rejecting the notion that genius may
originate in constitutional dispositions, and be only a mode of the
individual's existence, they deny that minds are differently constituted.
Habit and education, being more palpable and visible in their operations,
and progressive in the development of the intellectual faculties, have
been imagined fully sufficient to make the creative faculty a subject of
acquirement.
But when these theorists had discovered the curious fact, that we have
owed to _accident_ several men of genius, and when they laid open some
sources which influenced genius in its progress, they did not go one step
further, they did not inquire whether such sources and such accidents had
ever supplied the _want of genius_ in the individual. Effects were here
again mistaken for causes. Could Spenser have kindled a poet in Cowley,
Richardson a painter in Reynolds, and Descartes a metaphysician in
Malebranche, if those master-minds, pointed out as having been such from
_accident_, had not first received the indelible mint-stamp struck by the
hand of Nature, and which, to give it a name, we may be allowed to call
the _predisposition_ of genius? The _accidents_ so triumphantly held
forth, which are imagined to have created the genius of these men, have
occurred to a thousand who have run the same career; but how does it
happen that the multitude remain a multitude, and the man of genius
arrives alone at the goal?
This theory, which long dazzled its beholders, was in time found to stand
in contradiction with itself, and perpetually with their own experience.
Reynolds pared down his decision in the progress of his lectures, often
wavered, often altered, and grew more confused as he lived longer to look
about him.[A] The infirm votaries of the new philosophy, with all their
sources of genius open before them, went on multiplying mediocrity, while
inherent genius, true to nature, still continued rare in its solitary
independence.
[Footnote A: I transcribe the last opinions of Mr. Edgeworth. "As to
original genius, and the effect of education in forming taste or directing
talent, the last revisal of his opinions was given by himself, in the
introduction to the second edition of 'Professional Education.' He was
strengthened in his belief, that many of the great differences of
intellect which appear in men, depend more upon the early cultivating the
habit of attention than upon any disparity between the powers of one
individual and another. Perhaps, he latterly allowed that there is more
difference than he had formerly admitted between the _natural powers_ of
different persons; but not so great as is generally supposed."--
_Edgeworth's Memoirs_, ii. 388.]
Others have strenuously denied that we are born with any peculiar species
of mind, and resolve the mysterious problem into _capacity_, of which men
only differ in the degree. They can perceive no distinction between the
poetical and the mathematical genius; and they conclude that a man of
genius, possessing a general capacity, may become whatever he chooses, but
is determined by his first acquired habit to be what he is.[A]
In substituting the term _capacity_ for that of _genius_, the origin or
nature remains equally occult. How is it acquired, or how is it inherent?
To assert that any man of genius may become what he wills, those most
fervently protest against who feel that the character of genius is such
that it cannot be other than it is; that there is an identity of minds,
and that there exists an interior conformity as marked and as perfect as
the exterior physiognomy. A Scotch metaphysician has recently declared
that "Locke or Newton might have been as eminent poets as Homer or Milton,
had they given themselves early to the study of poetry." It is well to
know how far this taste will go. We believe that had these philosophers
obstinately, against nature, persisted in the attempt, as some have
unluckily for themselves, we should have lost two great philosophers, and
have obtained two supernumerary poets.[B]
It would be more useful to discover another source of genius for
philosophers and poets, less fallible than the gratuitous assumptions of
these theorists. An adequate origin for peculiar qualities in the mind may
be found in that constitutional or secret propensity which adapts some for
particular pursuits, and forms the _predisposition_ of genius.
[Footnote A: Johnson once asserted, 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. He who has vigour may walk to the
east as well as the west, if he happens to turn his head that way." Godwin
was persuaded that all genius is a mere _acquisition_, for he hints at
"infusing it," and making it a thing "heritable." A reversion which has
been missed by the many respectable dunces who have been sons of men of
genius.]
[Footnote B: This very Scotch metaphysician, at the instant he lays down
this postulate, acknowledges that "Dr. Beattie had talents for a _poet_,
but apparently not for a _philosopher_." It is amusing to learn another
result of his ungenial metaphysics. This sage demonstrates and concludes
in these words, "It will therefore be found, with little exception, that
_a great poet is but an ordinary genius_." Let this sturdy Scotch
metaphysician never approach Pegasus--he has to fear, not his wings, but
his heels. If some have written on genius with a great deal too much,
others have written without any.]
Not that we are bound to demonstrate what our adversaries have failed
in proving; we may still remain ignorant of the nature of genius, and
yet be convinced that they have not revealed it. The phenomena of
_predisposition_ in the mind are not more obscure and ambiguous than
those which have been assigned as the sources of genius in certain
individuals. For is it more difficult to conceive that a person bears in
his constitutional disposition a germ of native aptitude which is
developing itself to a predominant character of genius, which breaks forth
in the temperament and moulds the habits, than to conjecture that these
men of genius could not have been such but from _accident_, or that they
differ only in their _capacity_?
Every class of men of genius has distinct habits; all poets resemble one
another, as all painters and all mathematicians. There is a conformity in
the cast of their minds, and the quality of each is distinct from the
other, and the very faculty which fits them for one particular pursuit, is
just the reverse required for another. If these are truisms, as they may
appear, we need not demonstrate that from which we only wish to draw our
conclusion. Why does this remarkable similarity prevail through the
classes of genius? Because each, in their favourite production, is working
with the same appropriate organ. The poetical eye is early busied with
imagery; as early will the reveries of the poetical mind be busied with
the passions; as early will the painter's hand be copying forms and
colours; as early will the young musician's ear wander in the creation of
sounds, and the philosopher's head mature its meditations. It is then the
aptitude of the appropriate organ, however it varies in its character, in
which genius seems most concerned, and which is connatural and connate
with the individual, and, as it was expressed in old days, is _born_ with
him. There seems no other source of genius; for whenever this has been
refused by nature, as it is so often, no theory of genius, neither habit
nor education, have ever supplied its want. To discriminate between the
_habit_ and the _predisposition_ is quite impossible; because whenever
great genius discovers itself, as it can only do by continuity, it has
become a habit with the individual; it is the fatal notion of habit having
the power of generating genius, which has so long served to delude the
numerous votaries of mediocrity. Natural or native power is enlarged by
art; but the most perfect art has but narrow limits, deprived of natural
disposition.
A curious decision on this obscure subject may be drawn from an admirable
judge of the nature of genius. AKENSIDE, in that fine poem which forms its
history, tracing its source, sang,
From Heaven my strains begin, from Heaven descends
The flame of genius to _the human breast_.
But in the final revision of that poem, which he left many years after,
the bard has vindicated the solitary and independent origin of genius, by
the mysterious epithet,
THE CHOSEN BREAST.
The veteran poet was, perhaps, schooled by the vicissitudes of his own
poetical life, and those of some of his brothers.
Metaphors are but imperfect illustrations in metaphysical inquiries:
usually they include too little or take in too much. Yet fanciful
analogies are not willingly abandoned. The iconologists describe Genius as
a winged child with a flame above its head; the wings and the flame
express more than some metaphysical conclusions. Let me substitute
for "the white paper" of Locke, which served the philosopher in his
description of the operations of the senses on the mind, a less artificial
substance. In the soils of the earth we may discover that variety of
primary qualities which we believe to exist in human minds. The botanist
and the geologist always find the nature of the strata indicative of its
productions; the meagre light herbage announces the poverty of the soil it
covers, while the luxuriant growth of plants betrays the richness of the
matrix in which the roots are fixed. It is scarcely reasoning by analogy
to apply this operating principle of nature to the faculties of men.
But while the origin and nature of that faculty which we understand by the
term Genius remain still wrapt up in its mysterious bud, may we not trace
its history in its votaries? If Nature overshadow with her wings her first
causes, still the effects lie open before us, and experience and
observation will often deduce from consciousness what we cannot from
demonstration. If Nature, in some of her great operations, has kept back
her last secrets; if Newton, even in the result of his reasonings, has
religiously abstained from penetrating into her occult connexions, is it
nothing to be her historian, although we cannot be her legislator?