worldly ways and byways-第7部分

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their　twaddle；　that　there　is　something　radically　wrong　in　any　

innovation；　that　both　〃Church　and　State〃　will　be　imperilled　if　

things　are　altered。　　No　blight；　no　mildew　is　more　fatal　to　a　plant　

than　the　〃complacent〃　are　to　the　world。　　They　resent　any　progress　

and　are　offended　if　you　mention　before　them　any　new　standards　or　

points　of　view。　　〃What　has　been　good　enough　for　us　and　our　parents　

should　certainly　be　satisfactory　to　the　younger　generations。〃　　It　

seems　to　the　contented　like　pure　presumption　on　the　part　of　their　

acquaintances　to　wander　after　strange　gods；　in　the　shape　of　new　

ideals；　higher　standards　of　culture；　or　a　perfected　refinement　of　

surroundings。



We　are　perhaps　wrong　to　pity　complacent　people。　　It　is　for　another　

class　our　sympathy　should　be　kept；　for　those　who　cannot　refrain　

from　doubting　of　themselves　and　the　value　of　their　work　…　those　

unfortunate　gifted　and　artistic　spirits　who　descend　too　often　the　

VIA　DOLOROSA　of　discontent　and　despair；　who　have　a　higher　ideal　

than　their　neighbors；　and；　in　struggling　after　an　unattainable　

perfection；　fall　by　the　wayside。









CHAPTER　7　…　The　Discontent　of　Talent





THE　complacency　that　buoys　up　self…sufficient　souls；　soothing　them　

with　the　illusion　that　they　themselves；　their　towns；　country；　

language；　and　habits　are　above　improvement；　causing　them　to　

shudder；　as　at　a　sacrilege；　if　any　changes　are　suggested；　is　

fortunately　limited　to　a　class　of　stay…at…home　nonentities。　　In　

proportion　as　it　is　common　among　them；　is　it　rare　or　delightfully　

absent　in　any　society　of　gifted　or　imaginative　people。



Among　our　globe…trotting　compatriots　this　defect　is　much　less　

general　than　in　the　older　nations　of　the　world；　for　the　excellent　

reason；　that　the　moment　a　man　travels　or　takes　the　trouble　to　know　

people　of　different　nationalities；　his　armor　of　complacency　

receives　so　severe　a　blow；　that　it　is　shattered　forever；　the　

wanderer　returning　home　wiser　and　much　more　modest。　　There　seems　to　

be　something　fatal　to　conceit　in　the　air　of　great　centres；　

professionally　or　in　general　society　a　man　so　soon　finds　his　level。



The　〃great　world〃　may　foster　other　faults；　human　nature　is　sure　to　

develop　some　in　every　walk　of　life。　　Smug　contentment；　however；　

disappears　in　its　rarefied　atmosphere；　giving　place　to　a　craving　

for　improvement；　a　nervous　alertness　that　keeps　the　mind　from　

stagnating　and　urges　it　on　to　do　its　best。



It　is　never　the　beautiful　woman　who　sits　down　in　smiling　serenity　

before　her　mirror。　　She　is　tireless　in　her　efforts　to　enhance　her　

beauty　and　set　it　off　to　the　best　advantage。　　Her　figure　is　never　

slender　enough；　nor　her　carriage　sufficiently　erect　to　satisfy。　　

But　the　〃frump〃　will　let　herself　and　all　her　surroundings　go　to　

seed；　not　from　humbleness　of　mind　or　an　overwhelming　sense　of　her　

own　unworthiness；　but　in　pure　complacent　conceit。



A　criticism　to　which　the　highly　gifted　lay　themselves　open　from　

those　who　do　not　understand　them；　is　their　love　of　praise；　the　

critics　failing　to　grasp　the　fact　that　this　passion　for　measuring　

one's　self　with　others；　like　the　gad…fly　pursuing　poor　Io；　never　

allows　a　moment's　repose　in　the　green　pastures　of　success；　but　

goads　them　constantly　up　the　rocky　sides　of　endeavor。　　It　is　not　

that　they　love　flattery；　but　that　they　need　approbation　as　a　

counterpoise　to　the　dark　moments　of　self…abasement　and　as　a　

sustaining　aid　for　higher　flights。



Many　years　ago　I　was　present　at　a　final　sitting　which　my　master；　

Carolus　Duran；　gave　to　one　of　my　fair　compatriots。　　He　knew　that　

the　lady　was　leaving　Paris　on　the　morrow；　and　that　in　an　hour；　her　

husband　and　his　friends　were　coming　to　see　and　criticise　the　

portrait　…　always　a　terrible　ordeal　for　an　artist。



To　any　one　familiar　with　this　painter's　moods；　it　was　evident　that　

the　result　of　the　sitting　was　not　entirely　satisfactory。　　The　quick　

breathing；　the　impatient　tapping　movement　of　the　foot；　the　swift　

backward　springs　to　obtain　a　better　view；　so　characteristic　of　him　

in　moments　of　doubt；　and　which　had　twenty　years　before　earned　him　

the　name　of　LE　DANSEUR　from　his　fellow…copyists　at　the　Louvre；　

betrayed　to　even　a　casual　observer　that　his　discouragement　and　

discontent　were　at　boiling　point。



The　sound　of　a　bell　and　a　murmur　of　voices　announced　the　entrance　

of　the　visitors　into　the　vast　studio。　　After　the　formalities　of　

introduction　had　been　accomplished　the　new…comers　glanced　at　the　

portrait；　but　uttered　never　a　word。　　From　it　they　passed　in　a　

perfectly　casual　manner　to　an　inspection　of　the　beautiful　contents　

of　the　room；　investigating　the　tapestries；　admiring　the　armor；　and　

finally；　after　another　glance　at　the　portrait；　the　husband　

remarked：　〃You　have　given　my　wife　a　jolly　long　neck；　haven't　you？〃　

and；　turning　to　his　friends；　began　laughing　and　chatting　in　

English。



If　vitriol　had　been　thrown　on　my　poor　master's　quivering　frame；　the　

effect　could　not　have　been　more　instantaneous；　his　ignorance　of　the　

language　spoken　doubtless　exaggerating　his　impression　of　being　

ridiculed。　　Suddenly　he　turned　very　white；　and　before　any　of　us　had　

divined　his　intention　he　had　seized　a　Japanese　sword　lying　by　and　

cut　a　dozen　gashes　across　the　canvas。　　Then；　dropping　his　weapon；　

he　flung　out　of　the　room；　leaving　his　sitter　and　her　friends　in　

speechless　consternation；　to　wonder　then　and　ever　after　in　what　way　

they　had　offended　him。　　In　their　opinions；　if　a　man　had　talent　and　

understood　his　business；　he　should　produce　portraits　with　the　same　

ease　that　he　would　answer　dinner　invitations；　and　if　they　paid　for；　

they　were　in　no　way　bound　also　to　praise；　his　work。　　They　were　

entirely　pleased　with　the　result；　but　did　not　consider　it　necessary　

to　tell　him　so；　no　idea　having　crossed　their　minds　that　he　might　be　

in　one　of　those　moods　so　frequent　with　artistic　natures；　when　words　

of　approbation　and　praise　are　as　necessary　to　them；　as　the　air　we　

breathe　is　to　us；　mortals　of　a　commoner　clay。



Even　in　the　theatrical　and　operatic　professions；　those　hotbeds　of　

conceit；　you　will　generally　find　among　the　〃stars〃　abysmal　depths　

of　discouragement　and　despair。　　One　great　tenor；　who　has　delighted　

New　York　audiences　during　several　winters　past；　invariably　

announces　to　his　intimates　on　arising　that　his　〃voice　has　gone；〃　

and　that；　in　consequence　he　will　〃never　sing　again；〃　and　has　to　be　

caressed　and　cajoled　back　into　some　semblance　of　confidence　before　

attempting　a　performance。　　This　same　artist；　with　an　almost　

limitless　repertoire　and　a　reputation　no　new　successes　could　

enhance；　recently　risked　all　to　sing　what　he　considered　a　higher　

class　of　music；　infinitely　more　fatiguing　to　his　voice；　because　he　

was　impelled　onward　by　the　ideal　that　forces　genius　to　constant　

improvement　and　development　of　its　powers。



What　the　people　who　meet　these　artists　occasionally　at　a　private　

concert　or　behind　the　scenes　during　the　intense　strain　of　a　

representation；　take　too　readily　for　monumental　egoism　and　conceit；　

is；　the　greater　part　of　the　time；　merely　the　desire　for　a　

sustaining　word；　a　longing　for　the　stimulant　of　praise。



All　actors　and　singers　are　but　big　children；　and　must　be　humored　

and　petted　like　children　when　you　wish　them　to　do　their　best。　　It　

is　necessary　for　them　to　feel　in　touch　with　their　audiences；　to　be　

assured　that　they　are　not　falling　below　the　high　ideals　formed　for　

their　work。



Some　winters　ago　a　performance　at　the　opera　nearly　came　to　a　

standstill　because　an　all…conquering　soprano　was　found　crying　in　

her　dressing…room。　　After　many　weary　moments　of　consolation　and　

questioning；　it　came　out　that　she　felt　quite　sure　she　no　longer　had　

any　talent。　　One　of　the　other　singers　had　laughed　at　her　voice；　and　

in　consequence　there　was　nothing　left　to　live　for。　　A　half…hour　

later；　owing　to　judicious　〃treatment；〃　she　was　singing　gloriously　

and　bowing　her　thanks　to　thunders　of　applause。



Rather　than　blame　this　divine　discontent　that　has　made　man　what　he　

is　to…day；　let　us　glorify　and　envy　it；　pitying　the　while　the　frail　

mortal　vessels　it　consumes　with　its　flame。　　No　adulation　can　turn　

such　natures　from　their　goal；　and　in　the　hour　of　triumph　the　slave　

is　always　at　their　side　to　whisper　the　word　of　warning。　　This　

discontent　is　the　leaven　that　has　raised　the　whole　loaf　of　dull　

humanity　to　better　things　and　higher　efforts；　those　privileged　to　

feel　it　are　the　suns　that　illuminate　our　system。　　If　on　these　

luminaries　observers　have　discovered　spots；　it　is　well　to　remember　

that　these　blemishes　are　but　the　defects　of　their　qualities；　and　

better　far　than　the　total　eclipse　that　shrouds　so　large　a　part　of　

humanity　in　colorless　complacency。



It　will　never　be　known　how　many　master…pieces　have　been　lost　to　the　

world　because　at　the　critical　moment　a　friend　has　not　been　at　hand　

with　the　stimulant　of　sympathy　and　encouragement　needed　by　an　

overworked；　straining　artist　who　was　beginning　to　lose　confidence　

in　himself；　to　soothe　his　irritated　nerves　with　the　balm　of　praise；　

and　take　his　poor　aching　head　on　a　friendly　shoulder　and　let　him　

sob　out　there　all　his　doubt　and　discouragement。



So　let　us　not　be　niggardly　or　ungenerous　in　meting　out　to　

struggling　fellow…beings　their　share；　and　perchance　a　little　more　

than　their　share　of　approbation　and　applause；　poor　enough　return；　

after　all；　for　the　pleasure　their　labors　have　procured　us。　　What　

adequate　compensation　can　we　mete　out　to　an　author　for　the　hours　of　

delight　and　self…forgetfulness　his　talent　has　brought　to　us　in　

moments　of　loneliness；　illness；　or　grief？　　What　can　pay　our　debt　to　

a　painter　who　has　fixed　on　canvas　the　face　we　love？



The　little　return　that　it　is　in　our　power　to　make　for　all　the　joy　

these　gifted　fellow…beings　bring　into　our　lives　is　（closing　our　

eyes　to　minor　imperfections）　to　warmly　applaud　them