will become apparent in the course of
our inquiry, holds a very subordinate position in Literature to that
usually assigned to it. Indeed, a cursory inspection of the Literature
of our day will detect an abundance of remarkable talent---that is, of
intellectual agility, apprehensiveness, wit, fancy, and power of
expression which is nevertheless impotent to rescue "clever writing"
from neglect or contempt. It is unreal splendour; for the most part
mere intellectual fireworks. In Life, as in Literature, our admiration
for mere cleverness has a touch of contempt in it, and is very unlike
the respect paid to character. And justly so. No talent can be
supremely effective unless it act in close alliance with certain moral
qualities. (What these qualities are will be specified hereafter.)

Another cause, intimately allied with the absence of moral guidance
just alluded to, is MISDIRECTION of talent. Valuable energy is wasted
by being misdirected. Men are constantly attempting, without special
aptitude, work for which special aptitude is indispensable.

"On peut etre honnete hornme et faire mal des vers."

A man may be variously accomplished, and yet be a feeble poet. He may
be a real poet, yet a feeble dramatist, he may have dramatic faculty,
yet be a feeble novelist. He may be a good story-teller, yet a shallow
thinker and a slip-shod writer. For success in any special kind of work
it is obvious that a special talent is requisite; but obvious as this
seems, when stated as a general proposition, it rarely serves to check
a mistaken presumption. There are many writers endowed with a certain
susceptibility to the graces and refinements of Literature which has
been fostered by culture till they have mistaken it for native power;
and these men, being really destitute of native power, are forced to
imitate what others have created. They can understand how a man may
have musical sensibility and yet not be a good singer; but they fail to
understand, at least in their own case, how a man may have literary
sensibility, yet not be a good story-teller or an effective dramatist.
They imagine that if they are cultivated and clever, can write what is
delusively called a "brilliant style," and are familiar with the
masterpieces of Literature, they must be more competent to succeed in
fiction or the drama than a duller man, with a plainer style and
slenderer acquaintance with the "best models." Had they distinctly
conceived the real aims o