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137The way of genius.He had not that sort of genius; he laid no claim to it; but he had,or might have had, the power to repeat every letter of thefrom A to Zalphabet accurately in order. He might have had it.Bankes & other men of worth agreed with him there.Powers that Qualities that wouldSensations that would Feelings that would not have disgraced aale the leader, of a who, now that the snow has begun to fall, &the mountain top is covered in mist, knows that he mustlay himself down & die before morning comes, stole upon him,reaching his the light in his eyes, somehow giving him ableachedof extreme withered old agefaded perished ashen look as though his body hadpalingeven inthe two minutesof his turn on theterraceYet he would not die lying down; he would find somecrag of rock & there standing with his eyes fixed on thestorm, trying to the end to pierce the mist, he woulddie standing.He would never reach R.But how many men in a thousand million menreachpress on to Z?One perhaps.And his famelasts how long? Perhaps two thousand years.And what are two thousand years in the long in theroll of the ages? And What indeed? The very stones onewillkicks with the toe of ones boot have outlasted Plato.Shakespeare. His little light would shine, not verybrightly for a year or two, & then be seen no more, &merged in some bigger light, & that in a bigger still -Roam on. The light is we sought isShining still.I wandered till I died.And after all, who could blame the leader of thatforlorn party, if, before before death stiffened hislimbs b beyond all movement, he does, a little