were too warm and exhausting for the strength of his body. As the smiles of patronage and fame began to open upon him; and as the lessons of philosophy began to calm the wild energies of his native spirit, perhaps he might have passed a manhood and old age of sober intellectual enjoyment, had not the inroads of a rapid consumption already fixed with too deep an hold on his frail and feverish earthly form.

That one, who possessed such an union of virtue and talents, should have been doomed thus early to the grave, must add to the numerous proofs that we are destined to an higher order of existence than the scenes of this terrestrial existence, however beautiful it's creation may be, and however it's images may be exalted by intellect and genius. It is true that the richly-endowed mind, sobered by reflection, and softened by moral feelings, may experience the most refined enjoyment in human life from the great landscape of Nature spread before it; and may survey the Dawn pierce the clouds, and the slow sailing of the mantle of Twilight, with a sense of deep gratitude for it's lot. But it seems often the gracious design of Provi

dence to wean those, whose mental gifts render them most capable of tasting this happiness, from attachments fitted to smother diviner aspirations, by griefs, misfortunes, disappointments, and diseases, such as render the genial warmth of the Sun unavailing, and the harmonious forms and brilliant hues of this Orb which we inhabit, full of gloom, and terror, and deformity.

To regulate and moralize these feelings, to moderate these raptures, to controul their excesses, to revive them when decaying, is among the primary charms and the primary uses of the poet and the ethical writer.

No XXII.

The Author having written the following Essay more than twenty years ago, is desirous to rescue it from the fugitive publication in which it then appeared.

Nov. 1, 1816.

On the Difference between Knowledge and Wisdom; on the natural inequality of Mental Powers; and on the Distincton between Genius and Abilities.

Knowledge and Wisdom, far from being one,
Have oft-times no connexion. Knowledge dwells
In heads replete with thoughts of other men,
Wisdom in minds attentive to their own.
Knowledge, a rude unprofitable mass,

The mere materials with which Wisdom builds,
Till smooth'd and squar'd and fitted to its place,
Does but incumber whom it seems t'enrich.
Knowledge is proud that he has learn'd so much,
Wisdom is humble that he knows no more.

COWPER'S TASK, B. vi. p. 236.

THE above masterly passage from one of the most delightful poems in the English language is so obviously just as well as beautiful, that it speaks its own praise. How many foolish people do we see with memories burdened with learning, and

VOL. II.

with tongues as talkative as a parrot! How many persons of deep and abstruse erudition, whom we remembered boys of slender abilities, and whom still, if we characterize justly, we must consider to be weak men! Learning seems open to all capacities, at the expence of labour; wisdom to be attainable only by natural powers of intellect properly applied. Learning depends upon the memory; wisdom upon the understanding. Memory is a faculty of the mind, of which so large a proportion is possessed by every human being, (even by ideots,) and which may be so much beyond all others improved by exercise, that the world every where furnishes us with instances both of the dullest and the slenderest capacities, which by assiduity have so accomplished themselves, as to command by rote, not only history, politics, or the belles-lettres; but the most recondite and difficult sciences. I do not mean that this variety of knowledge is commonly (or indeed ever) attained by the same person; but that any branch, according to the accidental application, is attainable by the smallest abilities. True it is, that they, whose memory is rapid and volatile, generally turn it to the former;

and the slow, but sure, to the latter; yet the contrary sometimes does, and always may, happen; for still it is the same power alone, which is at work.

It seems to be this general capability of learning, which has confounded some writers, and induced the monstrous proposition of the natural equality of human abilities; a proposition, which common sense, common experience, and every philosophical argument, contradicts. Dr. Johnson, to whose authority the highest respect is always due, though he does not agree with this proposition, (indeed, he asserts the contrary,) yet advances one step towards it, by another opinion which appears equally insupportable. He seems to have thought that genius is nothing more than general abilities capable of attaining excellence in whatever be their accidental direction.

In answer to this, without entering into abstruse metaphysical arguments, let us make a few appeals to common sense. Is it possible seriously to believe that Shakespeare could have made a Newton by any early and continued application of his mind; or Newton a Shakespeare? Could