ose on her sisterly bosom. Now, forth from this passage and defile of
transition into the larger world, must Genius go on, working out its
natural destiny amidst things and forms the most artificial. Passions
that move and influence the world are at work around it. Often lost
sight of itself, its very absence is a silent contrast to the agencies
present. Merged and vanished for a while amidst the Practical World, yet
we ourselves feel all the while that it is there; is at work amidst the
workings around it. This practical world that effaces it rose out of
some genius that has gone before; and so each man of genius, though we
never come across him, as his operations proceed in places remote from
our thoroughfares, is yet influencing the practical world that ignores
him, for ever and ever. That is GENIUS! We can't describe it in books;
we can only hint and suggest it by the accessories which we artfully
heap about it. The entrance of a true Probationer into the terrible
ordeal of Practical Life is like that into the miraculous cavern, by
which, legend informs us, Saint Patrick converted Ireland."

BLANCHE.--"What is that legend? I never heard of it."

MR. CAXTON.--"My dear, you will find it in a thin folio at the right on
entering my study, written by Thomas Messingham, and called 'Florilegium
Insulae Sanctorum,' etc. The account therein is confirmed by the
relation of an honest soldier, one Louis Ennius, who had actually
entered the cavern. In short, the truth of the legend is undeniable,
unless you mean to say, which I can't for a moment suppose, that Louis
Ennius was a liar. Thus it runs: Saint Patrick, finding that the Irish
pagans were incredulous as to his pathetic assurances of the pains and
torments destined to those who did not expiate their sins in this world,
prayed for a miracle to convince them. His prayer was heard; and a
certain cavern, so small that a man could not stand up therein at his
ease, was suddenly converted into a Purgatory, comprehending tortures
sufficient to convince the most incredulous. One unacquainted with
human nature might conjecture that few would be disposed to venture
voluntarily into such a place; on the contrary, pilgrims came in crowds.
Now, all who entered from vain curiosity or with souls unprepared
perished miserably; but those who entered with deep and earnest faith,
conscious of their faults, and if bold, yet humble, not only came out
safe and sound, but purified, as if from t