In addition to these adverse forces, which have their origin in the common conditions of the life of genius, there are others which, though less constant, present themselves very frequently in co-operation with the first. It has often been remarked that the man of decided originality of thought, being as it were one born out of due time, has to bear the strain of production for a while uncheered by the smile of recognition. And when there is great originality, not only in the ideas, but in the form of expression, such recognition may come too slowly to be of any remunerative value. Neglect or ridicule is the form of greeting which the world has often given to the propounder of a new truth; and where, as frequently happens, the want of instant recognition means the pressure of poverty, which chafes with unusual severity the delicate fibers of sensitive men, we have a new and considerable force added to the agencies which threaten to undermine the not too stable edifice of the great man's mental and moral constitution. Johnson, Lessing, Burns, Leopardi, and many another name, will here occur to those familiar with the lives of modern men of letters.
In view of this combination of threatening agencies, one begins to understand the many eloquent things which have been said about the fatality of great gifts. Thus one finds a meaning in the definition of poetic genius given by Lamartine when speaking of Byron—"a vibration of the human fiber as strong as the heart of man can bear without breaking."
It is not meant here that even when all these destructive elements are present a distinctly pathological condition of mind must necessarily ensue. Their effect may be fully counteracted by other and resisting agencies. Of these the two most important are bodily energy and health on the one hand, and strength of will or character on the other. Where these are both found in a high degree of perfection, as in Goethe, we have a splendid example of healthy genius. On the other hand, if either, and still more if both of these are wanting, we have a state of things which is exceedingly likely to develop a distinctly pathological state of mind.[1]
How, it may be asked, does it commonly fare with the world's intellectual heroes with respect to these means of defense? As to the physical defense, it is known that a number of great men have had a physique fairly adequate to the severe demands made on the nervous organization. They were men of powerful frame, strong muscles, and good digestion. But such robustness of bodily health seems by no means the common rule. The number of puny and ill-formed men who have achieved marvelous things in intellectual production is a fact which has often been remarked on. So common an accompaniment of great intellectual exertion is defective digestion, that an in-
- ↑ That is, quite apart from any inherited physical predisposition to nervous disease.
