produce pretty verses, and even become
what is often termed an elegant poet: yet his readers, without knowing
what to find fault with, do not find themselves warmly interested. In the
works of the poets who fasten on their affections, they see grosser
faults, and the very images which shock their taste in the modern; still
they do not appear as puerile or extrinsic in one as the
other.--Why?--because they did not appear so to the author.

It may sound paradoxical, after observing that those productions want
vigour, that are merely the work of imitation, in which the understanding
has violently directed, if not extinguished, the blaze of fancy, to
assert, that, though genius be only another word for exquisite
sensibility, the first observers of nature, the true poets, exercised
their understanding much more than their imitators. But they exercised it
to discriminate things, whilst their followers were busy to borrow
sentiments and arrange words.

Boys who have received a classical education, load their memory with
words, and the correspondent ideas are perhaps never distinctly
comprehended. As a proof of this assertion, I must observe, that I have
known many young people who could write tolerably smooth verses, and
string epithets prettily together, when their prose themes showed the
barrenness of their minds, and how superficial the cultivation must have
been, which their understanding had received.

Dr. Johnson, I know, has given a definition of genius, which would
overturn my reasoning, if I were to admit it.--He imagines, that _a
strong mind, accidentally led to some particular study_ in which it
excels, is a genius.--Not to stop to investigate the causes which
produced this happy _strength_ of mind, experience seems to prove, that
those minds have appeared most vigorous, that have pursued a study, after
nature had discovered a bent; for it would be absurd to suppose, that a
slight impression made on the weak faculties of a boy, is the fiat of
fate, and not to be effaced by any succeeding impression, or unexpected
difficulty. Dr. Johnson in fact, appears sometimes to be of the same
opinion (how consistently I shall not now enquire), especially when he
observes, "that Thomson looked on nature with the eye which she only
gives to a poet."

But, though it should be allowed that books may produce some poets, I
fear they will never be the poets who charm our cares to sleep, or extort
admiration. They may diffuse taste