s and heavens around thee, hills and heavens
within thee--oh, Child of Time--Thou also art God!"

"Ah me! How I could love! My soul doth melt," cries Keats:

Ye deaf and senseless minutes of the day,
And thou old forest, hold ye this for true,
There is no lightning, no authentic dew
But in the eye of love; there's not a sound,
Melodious howsoever, can confound
The heavens and the earth to such a death
As doth the voice of love; there's not a breath
Will mingle kindly with the meadow air,
Till it has panted round, and stolen a share
Of passion from the heart.

John Keats and William Shakespeare wrote masterpieces because they had
passions, spiritual experiences, and the daily habit of inspiration. In
so far as these masterpieces are being truthfully taught, they are
taught by teachers who themselves know the passion of creation. They
teach John Keats and William Shakespeare by rousing the same passions
and experiences in the pupil that Keats and Shakespeare had, and by
daily appealing to them.

II

Analysis Analysed

There are a great many men in the world to-day, faithfully doing their
stint in it (they are commonly known as men of talent), who would have
been men of genius if they had dared. Education has made cowards of us
all, and the habit of examining the roots of one's instincts, before
they come up, is an incurable habit.

The essential principle in a true work of art is always the poem or the
song that is hidden in it. A work of art by a man of talent is generally
ranked by the fact that it is the work of a man who analyses a song
before he sings it. He puts down the words of the song first--writes it,
that is--in prose. Then he lumbers it over into poetry. Then he looks
around for some music for it. Then he practises at singing it, and then
he sings it. The man of genius, on the other hand, whether he be a great
one or a very little one, is known by the fact that he has a song sent
to him. He sings it. He has a habit of humming it over afterwards. His
humming it over afterwards is his analysis. It is the only possible
inspired analysis.

The difference between these two types of men is so great that anything
that the smaller of them has to say about the spirit or the processes of
the other is of little value. When one of them tries to teach the work
of the other, which is what almost always occurs,--the man of talent
being the typical professor of works of genius,--the result