xi. THE AUTUMN CROCUS. ! 95 



fresh novelty of nature ? The highest genius is that in 

 which manhood's trained power of expression is com- 

 bined with an eternal element of childhood. There is 

 a spontaneity and an unconsciousness in its art, an in- 

 stinctiveness in its revelations, which belong essentially 

 to youth, and which, appearing amid the matured 

 experiences of after life, has the charm of a September 

 day which reminds us of April. 



The higher we climb the hill of knowledge the 

 nobler and more elevated the thoughts we make 

 our own the more do we bring back the joyous, 

 fearless mind of childhood, which we believe is fresh 

 from the hand of God, and still bears upon it traces 

 of its likeness to the Uncreated Light; just as the 

 Alpine traveller sees on the very edge of the glacier 

 on the mountain height the same kind of exquisitely 

 pure and lovely flowers which in March and April 

 in the valleys skirted the edge of winter. M. de 

 Tocqueville used to remark that mental exertion was 

 as necessary in age as in youth, nay, even more neces- 

 sary. Man, he would say, is a traveller towards a 

 colder and colder region, and the higher his latitude 

 the faster he ought to walk. Many give up all thought 

 of beginning a new study when they have reached the 

 autumn of life under the impression that it is not worth 

 while. They fancy themselves older than they really 

 are, and so give up further intellectual effort with a 

 certain indolent feeling of relief. The Chinese encour- 

 age their students to persevere in their mental pursuits 

 to extreme old age, by bestowing the golden button of 



