reation, it may not be fanciful to conceive that the poet's inspiration
is surrounded by deeper mystery than that of other geniuses, and that
this accounts for the greater prominence of conscious self-analysis in
his work. That such a difference exists, seems obvious. In spite of the
lengths to which program music has been carried, we have, so far as I
know, practically no music, outside of opera, that claims to have the
musician, or the artist in general, for its theme. So sweeping an
assertion cannot be made regarding painting and sculpture, to be sure.
Near the beginning of the history of sculpture we are met by the legend
of Phidias placing his own image among the gods. At the other extreme,
chronologically, we are familiar with Daniel Chester French's group,
Death Staying the Hand of the Sculptor. Painters not infrequently
portray themselves and their artist friends. Yet it is improbable that
the mass of material concerned with the poet's view of the artist can be
paralleled. This is due in part, obviously, to the greater plasticity to
ideas of his medium, but may it not be due also to the fact that all
other arts demand an apprenticeship, during which the technique is
mastered in a rational, comprehensible way? Whereas the poet is apt to
forget that he has a technique at all, since he shares his tool,
language, with men of all callings whatever. He feels himself,
accordingly, to be dependent altogether upon a mysterious "visitation"
for his inspiration.

At least this mystery surrounding his creations has much to do with
removing the artist from the comparative freedom from self-consciousness
that we ascribe to the general run of men. In addition it removes him
from the comparative humility of other thinkers, who are wont to think
of their discoveries as following inevitably upon their data, so that
they themselves deserve credit only as they are persistent and
painstaking in following the clues. The genesis of Sir Isaac Newton's
discovery has been compared to poetical inspiration; yet even in this
case the difference is apparent, and Newton did not identify himself
with the universe he conceived, as the poet is in the habit of doing.

Not being able to account for his inspirations, the poet seems to be
driven inevitably either into excessive humility, since he feels that
his words are not his own, or into inordinate pride, since he feels that
he is able to see and express without volition truths that other men
c