reys had
but to deal with the calling of the scholar, the formation of the writer,
and so to guide the perceptions toward those varieties in the sublime and
beautiful, the just combination of which is at once CREATION. Man himself
is but a combination of elements. He who combines in nature, creates in
art.

Such, very succinctly and inadequately expressed, was the system upon
which Norreys proceeded to regulate and perfect the great native powers of
his pupil; and though the reader may perhaps say that no system laid down
by another can either form genius or dictate to its results, yet probably
nine-tenths at least of those in whom we recognize the luminaries of our
race, have passed, unconsciously to themselves (for self-education is
rarely conscious of its phases), through each of these processes. And no
one who pauses to reflect will deny, that according to this theory,
illustrated by a man of vast experience, profound knowledge, and exquisite
taste, the struggles of genius would be infinitely lessened; its vision
cleared and strengthened, and the distance between effort and success
notably abridged.

Norreys, however, was far too deep a reasoner to fall into the error of
modern teachers, who suppose that education can dispense with labor. No
mind becomes muscular without rude and early exercise. Labor should be
strenuous, but in right directions. All that we can do for it is to save
the waste of time in blundering into needless toils.

The master had thus first employed his neophyte in arranging and compiling
materials for a great critical work in which Norreys himself was engaged.
In this stage of scholastic preparation, Leonard was necessarily led to
the acquisition of languages, for which he had great aptitude--the
foundations of a large and comprehensive erudition were solidly
constructed. He traced by the plowshare the walls of the destined city.
Habits of accuracy and of generalization became formed insensibly; and
that precious faculty which seizes, amidst accumulated materials, those
that serve the object for which they are explored--(that faculty which
quadruples all force, by concentrating it on one point)--once roused into
action, gave purpose to every toil and quickness to each perception. But
Norreys did not confine his pupil solely to the mute world of a library;
he introduced him to some of the first minds in arts, science, and
letters--and active life. "These," said he, "are the living ideas of the