T. A.
MEN OF GENIUS.
Have any of our friends any persons of this description amongst the young men of their acquaintance? We think they must, for they are very plentiful: they are to be found every where. We ourselves know somewhere about half a dozen of one kind or other; and it is of these different kinds we purpose here to speak.
Before doing this, however, let us remark, that the sort of geniuses to whom we allude are to be found amongst young men only: for, generally speaking, it is only while men are young that they are subject to the delusion of supposing themselves geniuses. As they advance in life, they begin to suspect that there has been some mistake in the matter. A few years more, and they become convinced of it; when, wisely dropping all pretensions to the character, they step quietly back into the ranks amongst their fellows.
It is true that some old fools, especially amongst the poetical tribe, continue to cling to the unhappy belief of their being gifted, and go on writing maudlin rhymes to the end of the chapter. But most men become in time alive to the real state of the case, and, willingly resigning the gift of genius, are thankful to find that they have common sense.
While under the hallucination alluded to, however, the sort of geniuses of whom we speak are rather amusing subjects of study. We have known a great many of them in our day, and have found that they resolve themselves into distinct classes, such classes being formed by certain differing characteristics and pretensions: the individuals of each class, however, presenting in their peculiarities a striking resemblance to each other.
First comes, at any rate in such order shall we take them, the Poetical Genius. This is a poor, bleached-faced thing, with a simpering, self-satisfied countenance, an effeminate air and manner, and of insufferable conceit. It is an insolent creature too, for it treats you and everybody with the most profound contempt. Its calm, confident smirk, and lack-a-daisical look, are amongst the most provoking things in nature, and always inspire you with a violent desire to kick it out of your presence.
The poetical genius is by far the most useless of the whole tribe of geniuses. Wrapt up in his misty, maudlin dreams of cerulean heavens, and daisied meads, and purling rills, he is totally unfitted for the ordinary business of ordinary life. He is besides not unfrequently a little deranged in his upper works. Having heard, or having of himself imbibed a notion, that madness and genius are allied, he, although of perfectly sane mind originally, takes to raving, to staring wildly about him, and to practising various of the other extravagances of insanity, till he becomes actually half cracked: some of them indeed get stark staring mad.
The poetical genius is addicted to tea parties, and to writing in albums. He also much affects the society of tabbies: for of all his admirers he finds them the most liberal and indiscriminate in their praise. These good creatures drench him with weak tea, and he in return doses them with still weaker poetry. This is the class that supplies the newspapers with the article just named, at least so named by courtesy, figuring therein as J. F.’s and P. D.’s, &c.
The next class of geniuses which we propose to consider, is the Oratorical Genius. This person labours under the delusion of supposing himself a second Demosthenes. He is a great frequenter of debating societies, and other similar associations, where he makes long, prosy, unintelligible speeches—speeches full of mist and moonshine, in which no human being can discover the slightest trace of drift or purpose. These frothy, bubble-and-squeak orations the young gentleman prepares at home, fitting himself and them for public exhibition by raving and ranting them over in his own room, to the great annoyance of his neighbours.