Such being the case, may we not reasonably suppose that something more is needed for the production of genius than “large general powers, accidentally determined to some particular direction?”
In one sense, indeed, Dr. Johnson’s views may be not far from the truth. If by the word genius we mean transcendent genius, such as is found in our Shaksperes and Miltons, his definition can not be considered as otherwise than defective. But we do not always confine the word to this strict meaning. In a looser sense there are various types of genius. One star differeth from another in glory. If only a few occupy the higher places, and reach, so to speak, the topmost round of the ladder, a vastly greater number—a multitude which no man can number—may occupy lower places, and cluster on the lower rounds, sighing in vain to reach the highest. If Dr. Johnson had only in view this lower type of genius, his definition may be considered as fairly correct. To attain this station little more may be needed than “large general powers,” supplemented by persevering effort.
But in order to reach the highest rank of transcendent genius something more is needed, and that something we may call aptness of nature. Bacon, after giving some examples of extraordinary skill acquired in bodily exercises, says: “All which examples do demonstrate how variously, and to how high points and degrees, the body of man may be, as it were, moulded and wrought. And if any man conceive that it is some secret propriety of nature that hath been in these persons which have attained to those points, and that it is not open for every man to do the like, though he had been put to it; for which cause such things come but very rarely to pass; it is true, no doubt, that some persons are apter than others; but so as the more aptness causeth perfection, but the less aptness doth not disable.”
Bacon here hits the exact point. And what he says applies not to the physical powers only, but to the intellectual powers also. A greater degree of “aptness” is necessary to “perfection,” to the highest excellence in any study or pursuit, though less “aptness” may lead to eminence of a high though less perfect kind.
We speak of Napoleon’s military tact or aptness which he had from nature, and which he so greatly improved by practice. He combined aptness of nature with persevering study, and it was the two combined which for so many years chained victory to his chariot wheels.
In like manner the great writer has a literary tact or aptness, the gift of nature, and which he greatly improves by study and practice. The two qualities of aptness and persevering study go hand in hand, and the one is as indispensable as the other in order to reach the highest excellence.
This leads us to what appears to be the best definition of genius that can be given. Genius of the highest type may be defined to be “a special aptitude developed by special culture.” Special aptitude is the germ of genius, and is the gift of nature. Special culture is the means by which this natural gift is fully developed and so vastly improved.
May we not suppose that the poet Burns had this definition in his eye when he said: “I have not a doubt but the knack, the aptitude to learn the muse’s trade, is a gift bestowed by him who forms the secret bias of the soul; but I as firmly believe that excellence in the profession is the fruit of industry, labor, attention, and pains!”
