ligent study, with the happiest powers of memory, and with an
understanding that apparently took in every thing, and arranged every
thing, at the same time that by its acuteness it seemed able to add to
the accumulated stores of foregone wisdom and learning new treasures of
its own; and yet this man shall pass through the successive stages of
human life, in appearance for ever active, for ever at work, and leave
nothing behind that shall embalm his name to posterity, certainly
nothing in any degree adequately representing those excellencies, which
a chosen few, admitted to his retired and his serenest hours, knew to
reside in him.

There are conceptions of the mind, that come forth like the coruscations
of lightning. If you could fix that flash, it would seem as if it
would give new brightness to the sons of men, and almost extinguish the
luminary of day. But, ere you can say it is here, it is gone. It
appears to reveal to us the secrets of the world unknown; but the clouds
congregate again, and shut in upon us, before we had time to apprehend
its full radiance and splendour.

To give solidity and permanence to the inspirations of genius two things
are especially necessary. First, that the idea to be communicated should
be powerfully apprehended by the speaker or writer; and next, that he
should employ words and phrases which might convey it in all its truth
to the mind of another. The man who entertains such conceptions, will
not unfrequently want the steadiness of nerve which is required for
their adequate transmission. Suitable words will not always wait upon
his thoughts. Language is in reality a vast labyrinth, a scene like the
Hercinian Forest of old, which, we are told, could not be traversed in
less than sixty days. If we do not possess the clue, we shall infallibly
perish in the attempt, and our thoughts and our memory will expire with
us.

The sentences of this man, when he speaks, or when he writes, will be
full of perplexity and confusion. They will be endless, and never
arrive at their proper termination. They will include parenthesis on
parenthesis. We perceive the person who delivers them, to be perpetually
labouring after a meaning, but never reaching it. He is like one flung
over into the sea, unprovided with the skill that should enable him
to contend with the tumultuous element. He flounders about in pitiable
helplessness, without the chance of extricating himself by all his
efforts. He is lost in