the inconsistencies of Buckingham's volatile mind, or leisurely crushing out the insect life of Shadwell, "Owned, without dispute, Throughout the realms of Nonsense abso.ute." There, moving gracefully through that carpeted parlor, mark that dapper, diminutive Irish gentleman. The moment you look at him, your eyes are dazzled with the whizzing rockets and hissing wheels, streaking the air with a million sparks, from the pyrotechnic brain of Anacreon Moore. Again, cast your eyes from that blinding glare and glitter, to the soft and beautiful brilliancy, the winning grace, the bland banter, the gliding wit, the diffusive humor, which make you in love with all mankind in the charming pages of Washington Irving. And now, for another change, glance at the jerks and jets of satire, the mirthful audacities, the fretting and teasing mockeries, of that fat, sharp imp, half Mephistopheles, half Falstaff, that cross between Beelzebub and Rabelais, known, in all lands, as the matchless Mr. Punch. No English statesman, however great his power, no English nobleman, however high his rank, but knows that every week he may be pointed at by the scoffing finger of that omnipotent buffoon, and consigned to the ridicule of the world. The pride of intellect, the pride of wealth, the power to oppress - - nothing can save the dunce or criminal from being pounced upon by Punch, and held up to -- a derision or execration, which shall ring from London to St. Petersburg, from the Ganges to the Oregon. From the vitriol pleasantries of this arch-fiend of Momus, let us turn to the benevolent mirth of Addison and Steele, whose glory it was to redeem polite literature from moral depravity, by showing that wit could chime merrily in with the voice of virtue, and who smoothly laughed away many a vice of the national character, by that humor which tenderly touches the sensitive point with an evanescent grace and genial glee. And here let us not forget Goldsmith, whose delicious mirth is of that rare quality which lies too deep for laughter, which melts softly into the mind, suffusing it with inexpressible delight, and sending the soul dancing joyously into the eyes, to utter its merriment in liquid glances, passing all the expression of tone. And here, though we cannot do him justice, let us remember the name of Nathaniel Hawthorne, deserving a place second to none in that band of humorists whose beautiful depth of cheerful feeling is the very poetry of mirth. In ease, grace, delicate sharpness of satire, in a felicity of touch which often surpasses the felicity of Addison, in a subtlety of insight which often reaches further than the subtlety of Steele, the humor of Hawthorne presents traits so fine as to be almost too excellent for popularity, as, to every one who has attempted their criticism, they are too refined for state ment. The brilliant atoms flit, hover, and glance before our minds, but the remote sources of their ethereal light lie beyond our analysis, "And no speed of ours avails To hunt upon their shining trails." And now let us breathe a benison to these, our mirthful benefactors, these fine revellers among human weaknesses, these stern, keen satirists of human depravity. Wherever Humor smiles away the fretting thoughts of care, or supplies that antidote which cleanses "The stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart," wherever Wit riddles folly, abases pride, or stings iniqui ty, there glides the cheerful spirit, or glitters the flashing thought, of these bright enemies of stupidity and gloom. Thanks to them, hearty thanks, for teaching us that the ludicrous side of life is its wicked side no less than its foolish; that, in a lying world, there is still no mercy for falsehood; that Guilt, however high it may lift its brazen front, is never beyond the lightnings of Scorn; and that the lesson they teach agrees with the lesson taught by all experience, that life in harmony with reason is the only life safe from laughter, that life in harmony with virtue is the only life safe from con tempt. THERE is one law inwoven into the constitution of things, which declares that force of mind and character must rule the world. This truth glares out upon us from daily life, from history, from science, art, letters, from all the agencies which influence conduct and opinion. The whole existing order of things is one vast monument to the supremacy of mind. The exterior appearance of human life is but the material embodiment, the substantial expression, of thought, — the hieroglyphic writing of the soul. The fixed facts of society, laws, institutions, positive knowledge, were once ideas in a projector's brain-thoughts which have been forced into facts. The scouted hypothesis of the fifteenth century is the time-honored institution of the nineteenth; the heresy of yesterday is the commonplace of to-day. We perceive, in every stage of this great movement, a certain vital force, a spiritual power, to which we give * Delivered before the Boston Mercantile Library Association, February, 1848. the name of Genius. From the period when our present civilized races ran wild and naked in the woods, and dined and supped on each other, to the present time, the generality of mankind have been contented with things as they were. A small number have conceived of something better, or something new. From these come the motion and ferment of life; to them we owe it that existence is not a bog but a stream. These are men of genius. There are, therefore, two fields for human thought and action, the actual and the possible, the realized and the real. In the actual, the tangible, the realized, the vast proportion of mankind abide. The great region of the possible, whence all discovery, invention, creation, proceed, and which is to the actual as a universe to a planet, is the chosen region of Genius. As almost everything which is now actual was once only possible, as our present facts and axioms were originally inventions or discoveries, it is, under God, to Genius that we owe our present blessings. In the past, it created the present; in the present, it is creating the future. It builds habitations for us, but its own place is on the vanishing points of human intelligence, "A motion toiling in the gloom, The spirit of the years to come, Yearning to mix itself with life." The sphere and the influence of Genius it is easier tò |