loquent. It is a document in the history
of genius, and reveals all those feelings which are here too faintly
described.[A] I once heard an amiable author, whose literary career has
perhaps not answered the fond hopes of his youth, half in anger and in
love, declare that he would retire to some solitude, where, if any
one would follow him, he would found a new order--the order of THE
DISAPPOINTED.

[Footnote A: "My DEAR FRIEND,--Your kindness in rejoicing so heartily at
the birth of my picture has given me great satisfaction.

"There has been an anxiety labouring in my mind the greater part of the
last twelvemonth. At times it had nearly overwhelmed me. I thought I
should absolutely have sunk into despair. O! what a kind friend is in
those times! I thank God, whatever my picture may be, I can say thus much,
I am a greater philosopher and a better Christian."]

Thus the days of a man of genius are passed in labours as unremitting and
exhausting as those of the artisan. The world is not always aware, that to
some, meditation, composition, and even conversation, may inflict pains
undetected by the eye and the tenderness of friendship. Whenever ROUSSEAU
passed a morning in society, it was observed, that in the evening he was
dissatisfied and distressed; and JOHN HUNTER, in a mixed company, found
that conversation fatigued, instead of amusing him. HAWKESWORTH, in the
second paper of the "Adventurer," has drawn, from his own feelings, an
eloquent comparative estimate of intellectual with corporeal labour; it
may console the humble mechanic; and Plato, in his work on "Laws," seems
to have been aware of this analogy, for he consecrates all working men or
artisans to Vulcan and Minerva, because both those deities alike are hard
labourers. Yet with genius all does not terminate, even with the most
skilful labour. What the toiling Vulcan and the thoughtful Minerva may
want, will too often be absent--the presence of the Graces. In the
allegorical picture of the School of Design, by Carlo Maratti, where the
students are led through their various studies, in the opening clouds
above the academy are seen the Graces, hovering over their pupils, with an
inscription they must often recollect--_Senza di noi ogni fatica e vana_.

The anxious uncertainty of an author for his compositions resembles the
anxiety of a lover when he has written to a mistress who has not yet
decided on his claims; he repents his labour, for he thinks he has wri