Thus as soon as we begin to speak of "genius," we are involved in
speculations, psychological, psychical, physical, and metaphysical;
in difficulties of all sorts not at present to be solved either by
physiological science or experimental psychology, or by psychical
research, or by the study of heredity. When I speak of "the genius
of Shakespeare," of Jeanne d'Arc, of Bacon, even of Wellington, I
possibly have a meaning which is not in all respects the meaning of
Mr. Greenwood, when he uses the term "genius"; so we are apt to
misunderstand each other. Yet we all glibly use the term "genius,"
without definition and without discussion.

At once, too, in this quest, we jostle against "that fool of a word,"
as Napoleon said, "impossible." At once, on either side, we assume
that we know what is possible and what is impossible,--and so pretend
to omniscience.

Thus some "Stratfordians," or defenders of the actor's authorship,
profess to know--from all the signed work of Bacon, and from all that
has reached us about Bacon's occupations and preoccupations, from
1590 to 1605--that the theory of Bacon's authorship of the plays is
"impossible." I, however, do not profess this omniscience.

On the other side the Baconian, arguing from all that HE knows, or
thinks he knows, or can imagine, of the actor's education, conditions
of life, and opportunities, argues that the authorship of the actor
is "impossible."

Both sides assume to be omniscient, but we incontestably know much
more about Bacon, in his works, his aims, his inclinations, and in