Some fifteen or so years ago, I discovered an article "The Age of Genius" by one David Lindsay, published in The Gentleman's Magazine for December 1896. Was it by the David Lindsay whose first book was A Voyage to Arcturus (1920), published after he had turned 44? I was hesitant to ascribe it so, for in December 1896 Lindsay would have been a mere 20. Yet the article touches on a few things we know interested Lindsay--the nature of genius, and the mention of Beethoven among the greatest of masters in the final paragraph. Also its process of tabulation might have been second nature to Lindsay even at that age, for he had already worked for a firm of insurance underwriters for several years. Mark Valentine's recent post detailing that novelist David Lindsay submitted novels for publication in 1902 and 1908 show that Lindsay was active in writing much earlier than Arcturus, so I thought to revisit this article. I still think we can't say for certain that it was written by the author of Arcturus, but here it is for all to consider.
The Age of Genius
David Lindsay
The glories of our birth and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against fate :
Death lays his icy hands on kings.
Thus says the old song,* and emperor and beggar, warrior and poet, all men, be they great or lowly, have to vanish sooner or later from the face of the earth. We have only a few years’ lease, and, when our time has expired, we must quit. Even genius is not exempt from this, and any glory it may sow must generally be reaped after death.
But this is not now the point to be considered. We would rather put a question—one of a not uninteresting nature:— “Whether genius is long-lived?”
At first hearing, one says “no,” and this emphatically; for has it not been a well-known truth, from the earliest infancy of civilisation, that brain-power is incompatible with health? Was not Achilles offered the choice either of undying glory, coupled with an early death, or of long life and inglorious ease? He could not have both. One cannot possess the crown of laurels as well as the crown of snowy locks.
If we wish to become octogenarians, we must lay aside all ambition. We must rise with the sun and lie down with the sun. We must be careful, very careful, in our diet; must give our bodies so much exercise and so much recreation. We must be frugal in all our desires. But, above all other things, we must keep our minds as much as possible out of sight.
So we have been taught to believe; though we now beg leave to contradict the whole theory, for it is erroneous. In order to prove which, let us turn from empty words to solid facts.
The subject may best be considered by stating the ages of a few of the most distinguished men, representing all types of genius, who have enriched the world during the last three thousand years with their power and excellence of mind.
And let us first take the “man of blood.” The following are amongst the greatest names celebrated in the annals of war and conquest—for manslaughter also fosters genius:—
These have been chosen with strict impartiality, and the figures may be taken as representative of the whole class of renowned warriors, ancient and modern. It will be observed that nearly 60 per cent. of the above reached the Biblical standard of “three score years and ten.”
Statecraft is half-sister to War, and she is entitled to enrol under her banner many of the names already mentioned, which properly belong, however, to the foregoing list. Classification is always difficult. The following are well known in history:—
To these must be added the two most celebrated of all living statesmen, Gladstone and Bismarck, both well over their eightieth year.
Let us now turn to Science and Philosophy:—
Note that, of all these men, whose brains were worked to their very fullest, no less than 63 per cent. managed to complete their seventy years.
In the next division let us include, for the sake of convenience, literary men of all classes—historians, essayists, novelists, poets, dramatists, and others:—
Music next claims our attention:—
This does not bear out our theory: it would rather seem to prove that music is really the gift of the gods, for “those whom the gods love die young.”
In the Fine Arts we find :—
One of these at least grew to a hoary old age, and he not the least distinguished among them. It is a far cry from Art to Religion, but let us take a peep at the gallant little band of Reformers:—
Here, as before, no comment is needed.
We do not for one moment pretend that the foregoing catalogues of names are exhaustive, but they are representative, and so will answer our purpose.
Summarising, we shall now get at the following analysis:--
So that almost one-half of the greatest geniuses the world has yet seen have attained and passed the great age of 70 years!
Most of the best work of these men, however, has been done at a comparatively youthful age.
Hannibal won his most decisive victory when he was 31 years old; Henry V. fought the battle of Agincourt at 27; Edward III. that of Cressy at 33; Napoleon that of Austerlitz at 36.
Gibbon’s “Decline and Fall” made its appearance when he was 39; Kingsley’s “Westward Ho!” when 36; Carlyle’s “French Revolution” when 42; Johnson commenced his “Dictionary” when 38. On the other hand, “Paradise Lost” was not given to the world until Milton was 59; and Cervantes was only one year younger when “Don Quixote” was published.
Sir Christopher Wren lived to see his ninetieth birthday, but he was less than half that age when he started building St. Paul’s Cathedral; George Stephenson invented the locomotive when he was 38; Harvey discovered that blood circulated when 38; Jenner put forward his theory of vaccination when 47.
What, then, are the laws that control the age of genius? Why should a Keats die at 24 and a Chaucer at 72? Why should philosophers and men who look deeply into the heart of things, and who would naturally be supposed to wear out their vital energy more quickly than other men—why should these be longer-lived than musicians?
To this latter question there is an answer. It is not until after long years of technical training and brain-working that such men as Leibnitz and Descartes blossom out into all their glory of genius; and there are doubtless many great thinkers even now in our midst who may some day astonish the world by the brilliancy of their teachings—but they may first die. With music it is different. Beethoven, while yet in his early infancy, showed unmistakable signs of his natural abilities; when he was a mere youngster he composed works which, to this day, will stand on their own merits. It is the same with every great musician. Granted that he live to reach early manhood, his fame is secured. And, at the time when all Europe is ringing with his praises, his science-loving brother is toiling in obscurity, not to step forth into the light of popularity for maybe another quarter of a century, or perhaps not at all, for in the meantime, as we have said, he may die.
It is true that the very greatest masters of all do not usually live out their normal length of days: Napoleon, Cromwell, Shakespeare, Beethoven—none of these passed into old age. But it is hard to define the term “genius.” If we are to limit it to some score of men, we must then, perhaps, consider that it is incompatible with length of life, If we give the word larger meaning, and honour with it the thousand lesser light who illumine the page of history, why, then, it would seem to be a healthy thing to be a genius.
* The quotation from an "old song" (whose first line sometimes reads "The glories of our blood and state") is from scene three of a short play titled "The Contention of Ajax and Ulysses" by James Shirley, published in 1659. The reading giving "birth" in the first line comes from its reprinting in Thomas Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry (1765). [DAA]
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