QUIET FRUITFULNESS.--The born aristocrats of the mind are not in too much of a hurry; their creations appear and fall from the tree on some quiet autumn evening, without being rashly desired, instigated, or pushed aside by new matter. The unceasing desire to create is vulgar, and betrays envy, jealousy, and ambition. If a man _is_ something, it is not really necessary for him to do anything--and yet he does a great deal. There is a human species higher even than wie "productive" man. 211. ACHILLES AND HOMER.--It is always like the case of Achilles and Homer,--the one _has_ the experiences and sensations, the other _describes_ them. A genuine author only puts into words the feelings and adventures of others, he is an artist, and divines much from the little he has experienced. Artists are by no means creatures of great passion; but they frequently _represent_ themselves as such with the unconscious feeling that their depicted passion will be better believed in if their own life gives credence to their experience in these affairs. They need only let themselves go, not control themselves, and give free play to their anger and their desires, and every one will immediately cry out, "How passionate he is!" But the deeply stirring passion that consumes and often destroys the individual is another matter: those who have really experienced it do not describe it in dramas, harmonies or romances. Artists are frequently _unbridled_ individuals, in so far as they are not artists, but that is a different thing. 212.