what limits, and from what number of individuals, shall the generalisation be made? The theory must still require a prior theory for its own legitimate construction. The physical definition follows and does not precede the reasoning. It is representative, not constitutive, and is indeed little more than an abbreviature of the preceding observation, and the deductions therefrom. But as the observation, though aided by experiment, is necessarily limited and imperfect, the definition must be equally so. The history of theories, and the frequency of their subversion by the discovery of a single new fact, supply the best illustrations of this truth.

The uneducated and unreflecting talker overlooks all mental relations, and consequently precludes all Method that is not purely accidental. Hence, the nearer the things and incidents in time and place, the more distant, disjointed, and impertinent to each other, and to any common purpose, will they appear in the narrator's own mind. On the contrary, where the habit of Method is present and effective, as in Hamlet, for example, things the most remote and diverse in time, place, and outward circumstance, are brought into mental contiguity and succession, the more striking as the less expected. Coleridge.

INDIVIDUALITY.

As individuality is the same thing with development, and as it is only the cultivation of individuality which can produce perfectly developed human beings, what more or better can be said of any condition of human affairs, than that it brings human beings themselves nearer to the best thing they can be? Or what worse can be said of any obstruction to good, than that it prevents this? Doubtless, however, these considerations will not suffice to convince those who most need convincing; and it is necessary further to show,

that these developed human beings are of some use to the undeveloped-to point out to those who do not desire liberty, and would not avail themselves of it, that they may be in some intelligible manner rewarded for allowing other people to make use of it without hindrance. In the first place, then, I would suggest that they might possibly learn something from them. It will not be denied by anybody, that originality is a valuable element in human affairs. There is always need of persons not only to discover new truths, and point out when what were once truths are true no longer, but also to commence new practices and set the example of more enlightened conduct, and better taste and sense in human life. This cannot well be gainsaid by anybody who does not believe that the world has already attained perfection in all its ways and practices. It is true that this benefit is not capable of being rendered by everybody alike: there are but few persons, in comparison with the whole of mankind, whose experiments, if adopted by others, would be likely to be any improvement on established practice.

But these few are the salt of the earth; human life would become a stagnant pool.

without them,

Not only is it they who introduce good things which did not before exist; it is they who keep the life in those which already existed. If there were nothing new to be done, would human intellect cease to be necessary ? Would it be a reason why those who do the old things should forget why they are done, and do them like cattle, not like human beings? There is only too great a tendency in the best beliefs and practices to degenerate into the mechanical; and unless there were a succession of persons whose ever-recurring originality prevents the grounds of those beliefs and practices from becoming merely traditional, such dead matter would not resist the smallest shock from anything really alive, and there would be no reason why civilisation should not die out, as in the Byzantine Empire. Persons of

genius, it is true, are, and are always likely to be, a small minority; but in order to have them, it is necessary to preserve the soil in which they, grow. Genius can only breathe freely in an atmosphere of freedom. Persons of genius are essentially more individual than any other people, less capable, consequently, of fitting themselves, without hurtful compressions, into any of the small number of moulds which society provides in order to save its members the trouble of forming their own characters. If from timidity they consent to be forced into one of these moulds, and to let all that part of themselves which cannot expand under the pressure remain unexpanded, society will be little the better for their genius. If they are of a strong character, and break their fetters, they become a mark for the society which has not succeeded in reducing them to common place, to point at with solemn warning as "wild," 66 erratic," ," and the like; much as if one should complain of the Niagara river for not flowing smoothly between its banks like a Dutch canal.

I insist thus emphatically on the importance of genius, and the necessity of allowing it to unfold itself freely both in thought and in practice, being well aware that no one will deny the position in theory, but knowing also that almost every one, in reality is totally indifferent to it. People think genius a fine thing if it enables a man to write an exciting poem, or paint a picture. But in its true sense, that of originality in thought and action, though no one says that it is not a thing to be admired, nearly all, at heart, think that they can do very well without it. Unhappily this is too natural to be wondered at. Originality is the one thing which unoriginal minds cannot feel the use of. They cannot see what it is to do for them: how should they? If they could see what it would do for them, it would not be originality.

The first service which originality has to render them, is that of opening their eyes, which being once fully done,

they would have a chance of being themselves original. Meanwhile recollecting that nothing was ever yet done which some one was not the first to do, and that all good things which exist are the fruits of originality, let them be modest enough to believe that there is something still left for it to accomplish, and assure themselves that they are the more in need of originality, the less they are conscious of the want. Mill.

INFLUENCE.

THE French consider Mirabeau as their Hercules, and they are quite right. But they forget that the Colossus, too, consists of single parts; the Hercules of antiquity is a collective being—a grand type of his own deeds and of the deeds of others.

Properly speaking, we are all of us collective beings. There is no denying the fact, however disagreeable it may be. For how little are we by ourselves, and how little can we call our own! We must all accept and learn from those that went before us. Even the greatest genius would make but little way, if he were to create and construct everything out of his own mind. A great many persons will not understand this; they would be thorough originals, and are consequently thoroughly benighted. I know of certain artists, who boast that they never were guided by a master, and that they are indebted to their own genius alone.

The fools! To think that these things would do! Does not the world assail and influence them at every step? and does it not, in spite of their own stupidity, influence themselves for good? I protest if such an artist were merely to pass through my rooms, or if he were only to cast a strong look or so at the sketches of the great artists which orna

ment them, he would, if indeed there were any genius in him, leave the house a better and wiser man. And what good is there in us, except there is a power and the will to attract the powers of the world around us, and to make them subservient to our higher purposes! I may here speak of myself, and humbly say how I feel. I have, indeed, in the course of my long life, done many things on which I have some reason to pride myself. But to be quite honest, what had I of my own, except the power and the will to see and to hear, to distinguish and to select, and afterwards to inspire the things I saw and heard with some wit, and to reproduce them with some cleverness? My work springs not from my own wisdom alone, but from hundreds of things and persons that gave the matter for them. There were fools and sages, long-headed men and narrow-minded men, children, and young and old men and women, that told me how they felt and what they thought, how they lived and how they labored, and what was the amount, and what was the result of their experience. I had but to hold out my hand, and reap a harvest which others had sown for me.

It is very absurd to ask whether a man's knowledge comes from himself or from others, or whether he acts alone, or by and through other men. The important thing is to have a great aim, and to possess aptitude and the perseverance to attain it. All other considerations are insignificant compared to this one. Mirabeau was therefore perfectly justified in making all the use he could of the outward world and its capacities. His was the gift to discern talents, and talent was attracted by the spirit of his mighty nature and his social intercourse. Thus did talent become his servant, and thus did it happen that he was surrounded by a crowd of distinguished men, whom he had inspired, and who worked out his ends. And in this working with others and by others lay his genius, his originality, and his greatness. Goethe.