Nulla est fama tuum par oequiparare laborem.

Nor is it the delight that a man has in his work; for that too is outweighed by the effort which he has to make.  It is, rather, an instinct sui generis; in virtue of which the genius is driven to express what he sees and feels in some permanent shape, without being conscious of any further motive.

It is manifest that in so far as it leads an individual to sacrifice himself for his species, and to live more in the species than in himself, this impulse is possessed of a certain resemblance with such modifications of the sexual impulse as are peculiar to man.  The modifications to which I refer are those that confine this impulse to certain individuals of the other sex, whereby the interests of the species are attained.  The individuals who are actively affected by this impulse may be said to sacrifice themselves for the species, by their passion for each other, and the disadvantageous conditions thereby imposed upon them,—­in a word, by the institution of marriage.  They may be said to be serving the interests of the species rather than the interests of the individual.

The instinct of the genius does, in a higher fashion, for the idea, what passionate love does for the will.  In both cases there are peculiar pleasures and peculiar pains reserved for the individuals who in this way serve the interests of the species; and they live in a state of enhanced power.

The genius who decides once for all to live for the interests of the species in the way which he chooses is neither fitted nor called upon to do it in the other.  It is a curious fact that the perpetuation of a man’s name is effected in both ways.

In music the finest compositions are the most difficult to understand.  They are only for the trained intelligence.  They consist of long movements, where it is only after a labyrinthine maze that the fundamental note is recovered.  It is just so with genius; it is only after a course of struggle, and doubt, and error, and much reflection and vacillation, that great minds attain their equilibrium.  It is the longest pendulum that makes the greatest swing.  Little minds soon come to terms with themselves and the world, and then fossilise; but the others flourish, and are always alive and in motion.

The essence of genius is a measure of intellectual power far beyond that which is required to serve the individual’s will.  But it is a measure of a merely relative character, and it may be reached by lowering the degree of the will, as well as by raising that of the intellect.  There are men whose intellect predominates over their will, and are yet not possessed of genius in any proper sense.  Their intellectual powers do, indeed, exceed the ordinary, though not to any great extent, but their will is weak.  They have no violent desires; and therefore they are more concerned with mere knowledge than with the satisfaction of any aims.  Such men possess talent; they are intelligent, and at the same time very contented and cheerful.