Vexatious as the disappointment may appear, what is it compared with
the bare fate of genius, stripped of the bare means of sustenance by the
unsuccessful result of a literary engagement, or the non-completion of a
purchase, on which probably depended the very day's existence. The subject
is trite and hacknied; but all that has been written about the illusions
and misgivings of genius will not alter its complexion. It is true that
such details have raised a spirit of sympathetic forbearance towards the
distresses of men of letters, except in the breasts of the most barbarous
and vulgar. But their sufferings are doubly acute, and their perceptions
doubly tender. In their intercourse with mankind, they become _flattered_
by associates, and it not unfrequently happens that men who are the most
ready to quote such ascendancy or superiority in society, are the first
to break the charm they have created, by some act of extreme rigour. Such
conduct is cruel and unchristian.
Again, the sufferings of men of genius are increased by their own
reflection on them, and in addition to real woes they thus inflict on
themselves thousands of imaginary ones.
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