Sisters of Shakespeare; which latter, in his own expressive language, "look not like th' inhabitants of the earth, and yet are on't;" or that novelty of composition which continually surprises us with unexpected beauties; with objects familiar indeed to us, but arranged as never before seen; and introduced under new and pleasing associations. These form the greater part of our best productions, as well in the peculiar labours of the mind, as in those of art. There is no other sense in which the term "invention" can be understood. But as by "invention" something more is frequently thought to be implied; and as in the authorities before quoted, respecting Genius, there seemed to be entertained a notion of some innate power of the mind, some peculiar gift of nature, by which invention was favoured, it may be necessary to clear up this difficulty, before we proceed to the further consideration of our subject.

We do not say of a man who can make a clock or a watch, that he has therefore a Genius; but we speak of the compensation pendulum of Harrison as an evidence of Genius; because, in the formation of it, there was displayed "invention." But this invention did not depend on an innate power of mind in Harrison; it was not an a priori anticipation, but a result which owed every thing to accident and circumstance. Harrison, for many years before the discovery of his pendulum, knew every principle upon which it acts, as well as he

did afterwards; or, if he did not, there were thousands of others that did. He was not the first that detected the cause of error in clocks, nor was he the first that ascertained the different expansibilities of different metals, exposed to changes of temperature. These were well known; but these truths had always kept at a distance from each other, both in the mind of Harrison, and of all mankind; and his "invention" consisted in seeing them together. The novelty of combination constituted Genius. But Genius, as a power of the mind, neither prepared the preliminary truths necessary to this discovery, for they, palpably, were derived by sense; nor gave them that juxtaposition which led to the discovery, for that, most probably, arose from accident. On this subject I shall have occasion to speak more fully in the course of this Essay. But from what has just been advanced, we may conclude that Genius is that power of the mind, by which novelty of combination is produced; whether it be found in the imagery of the Poet, the useful discoveries of the artist, or the more profound conclusions of the Philosopher. Or, negatively, that it does not consist in acquiring that knowledge which others have taught, however subtle or refined that knowledge may be. Its attribute is originality.

If we sometimes use the term in a lower sense to express a capacity of learning, it is by way of intellectual courtesy, that we thus give credit to him

who readily attains knowledge, to be able also to cast it into new shapes, and untried arrangements.

As I have already complained of the want of argument and evidence to support the prevailing notion of Genius, it will be but just to advert to those vague proofs which we commonly hear advanced on this subject, before I proceed, regularly, to offer any objections to it.

We are, in the first place, called to observe the fact (which is fully admitted in the commencement of this Essay) that some men have risen to greater heights of excellence than others. Secondly, that some individuals in early youth, have exhibited marks of superiority of mind, as Pope, Cowley, Newton, &c. Thirdly, that children placed under the same circumstances, assisted by the same means, and encouraged by the same hopes, have displayed striking inequalities of progress in learning. Fourthly, That some men, in the language of Addison, already quoted, "without any assistance of art or learning, have produced works that were the delight of their own times, and the wonder of posterity;" or, in the words of Rousseau, "Common men only require education, others (that is men of Genius, the endowed favourites of nature,) will acquire knowledge, let us do what we will:" which is otherwise thus poetically expressed by Young, "Genius needs not go to school." And, lastly, some may rest their belief on the supposed indications of phrenology.

I have now before me two methods of discussing this subject. The one negative, which consists in exploding the errors of the preceding proofs; the other direct, which will lead me to exhibit the sources of Genius, to explain why some men excel others, and to show by what steps they rise to the greatest eminence; or, to confine myself more particularly to the distinctive quality of Genius alluded to, and acknowledged in this Essay, by what circumstances invention is favoured. If this were a regular dissertation I might adopt both, but the limits of an Essay forbid the attempt. I shall therefore glance only at the first, and throw the bulk of my observations and arguments into the last.

That some men have risen to greater heights of excellence than others, is not a proof of Genius, but a problem to be solved; it is the very question we are now agitating. And the fact of early indications of superiority of mind, such as were displayed in a Pope, a Cowley, a Newton, a Milton, &c. is explicable upon other, and sounder principles than the hypothesis of Genius. The first works of all these extraordinary characters, were the pure offerings, the primitia which the mind made to sense. It was in pastoral description, the scenery of nature, or every day objects, that the first breathings of poesy were heard; not in the argumentative Essay on Man, or the didactic Essay on Criticism. Lively images created lively emotions, and the language which declared them

easily ran into numerous composition. Even Newton, who was distinguished for mechanical ingenuity, did not, in his boyish essays, endeavour to give the parabolic figure to the speculum, or attempt to explain the different refrangibility of the rays of light. No! he laboured to imitate clocks and mills, objects ever before him, objects of sense. When we remember that Aristotle calls man an imitating animal, and poetry itself an imitative art; and recollect how Burke has illustrated this opinion, with the light and colouring of his brilliant imagination, we shall be constrained to see, that Pope and Newton did no more on these occasions than obey the impulse of nature. Why that impulse led them to imitation more than other children, will be explained in the sequel of this Essay.

The equality of circumstances, means, and encouragements, assumed by the advocates of Genius, are only plausible sophisms. They are not founded on truth; and will not be employed by any one who has thought correctly upon the infinite variety of accidents, which every hour may arise to disturb and destroy this hypothetical equality. It is not sufficient that they both live under the same roof, or both receive instruction from the same Teacher; a little more or less of corporeal vigor; even the light in which an object is seen, or the direction in which a sound is heard, may mar the equality at once; not to mention the dissimilarity of ideas existing in