The Argosy — page 378: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

364 The Penalty of Genius. great things, and it is this power which we every-day people envy and covet ; but in so doing, we too often overlook the companion of ability, which is ambition, and a chief cause of the suffering attaching to genius. Ambition, in its very mildest form, is pain; for it is the yearning of the heart for what it has not; and in genius this pain must be greatest, because there the ambition is for the highest result. A great ambition, continued ungratified for many years, is a restless, tormenting evil which gnaws the heart. Philosophy may calm the fiend for a time, but he wilt break out afresh, robbing the sufferer of all pleasure in life. The victim does not know what it is to be young, his heart becomes pre- maturely grey, and his life is one prolonged agony, which he too often seeks to forget in sin, Such is the early life of the man of genius ; but, being the rule, there are exceptions. Of our own day, Lytton and Dickens escaped this purgatory. They never felt “the sickening ambition recoiling on itself” ; but Thackeray felt it long and keenly. Thackeray, in his original state, was a very tender-hearted man. Indeed, it is impossible for a man to be a great satirist unless he has a great heart. But Thackeray was somewhat hardened by his mental sufferings. He came to regard life sadly, often fiercely. He had asad and angry contempt for those who so long rejected him; and these feelings gave a depth and keenness to his satire which Lytton and Dickens could never imitate. Dickens was too successful to be sarcastic: he was so pleased with the world for being so pleased with him that he could not even ‘A:nk of anything really “cutting” to say about it. He could only caricature us. But we do not say that Dickens was a happy man. No one who has read his written life can think that. In one or two instances the penalty of genius has proved too heavy for the bearer, as in the case of Chatterton. Grand John Milton, like Chatterton, died unknown, and in comparative poverty. The world was blind to the merits of the blind bard: the secret of the poet’s genius was only known to Him who gave it, and to him who received it Milton could never have been a happy man: he must have felt his obscurity acutely; but he cultivated resignation till it reached in him its most perfect state.* Providence is all-wise, and seldom gives to men a greater weight than they can carry. Robert Burns is a remarkable instance of the curse of genius. Burns could read and wrte, and hada sound head and constitution. With these and nothing added, Burns would have beenahappy man, and havethrived. . But, unfortunately for himself, he was aman of genius. Here was a mind, cast in that delicate mould which nature reserves for poets, surrounded by poverty, and a coarse, though warm-hearted, peasantry. What must have been his feelings when he discovered that he was a * We are speaking of Milton as a poet. COLMA a) NOOKS (CO)