es, and become
himself. ARIOSTO wrote sixteen different ways the celebrated stanza
descriptive of a tempest, as appears by his MSS. at Ferrara; and the
version he preferred was the last of the sixteen. We know that PETRARCH
made forty-four alterations of a single verse: "whether for the thought,
the expression, or the harmony, it is evident that as many operations in
the heart, the head, or the ear of the poet occurred," observes a man of
genius, Ugo Foscolo. Quintilian and Horace dread the over-fondness of an
author for his compositions: alteration is not always improvement. A
picture over-finished fails in its effect. If the hand of the artist
cannot leave it, how much beauty may it undo! yet still he is lingering,
still strengthening the weak, still subduing the daring, still searching
for that single idea which awakens so many in the minds of others, while
often, as it once happened, the dash of despair hangs the foam on the
horse's nostrils. I have known a great sculptor, who for twenty years
delighted himself with forming in his mind the nymph his hand was always
creating. How rapturously he beheld her! what inspiration! what illusion!
Alas! the last five years spoiled the beautiful which he had once reached,
and could not stop and finish!

The art of composition, indeed, is of such slow attainment, that a man of
genius, late in life, may discover how its secret conceals itself in the
habit; how discipline consists in exercise, how perfection comes from
experience, and how unity is the last effort of judgment. When Fox
meditated on a history which should last with the language, he met his
evil genius in this new province. The rapidity and the fire of his
elocution were extinguished by a pen unconsecrated by long and previous
study; he saw that he could not class with the great historians of every
great people; he complained, while he mourned over the fragment of genius
which, after such zealous preparation, he dared not complete. CURRAN, an
orator of vehement eloquence, often strikingly original, when late in life
he was desirous of cultivating literary composition, unaccustomed to its
more gradual march, found a pen cold, and destitute of every grace.
ROUSSEAU has glowingly described the ceaseless inquietude by which he
obtained the seductive eloquence of his style; and has said, that with
whatever talent a man may be born, the art of writing is not easily
obtained. The existing manuscripts of ROUSSEAU display as