worldly ways and byways(世俗之路)-第7章
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Sphinx's riddle； for they float through their days in a dream of
complacency disturbed neither by corroding doubt nor harassed by
jealousies。
Whole families of feeble…minded people； on the strength of an ancestor
who achieved distinction a hundred years ago； live in constant
thanksgiving that they 〃are not as other men。〃 None of the great man's
descendants have done anything to be particularly proud of since their
remote progenitor signed the Declaration of Independence or governed a
colony。 They have vegetated in small provincial cities and inter…married
into other equally fortunate families； but the sense of superiority is ever
present to sustain them； under straitened circumstances and diminishing
prestige。 The world may move on around them； but they never advance。
Why should they？ They have reached perfection。 The brains and enterprise
that have revolutionized our age knock in vain at their doors。 They belong
to that vast 〃majority that is always in the wrong；〃 being so pleased with
themselves； their ways； and their feeble little lines of thought； that any
change or advancement gives their system a shock。
A painter I know was once importuned for a sketch by a lady of this
class。 After many delays and renewed demands he presented her one day；
when she and some friends were visiting his studio； with a delightful
open…air study simply framed。 She seemed confused at the offering； to his
astonishment； as she had not lacked APLOMB in asking for the sketch。
After much blushing and fumbling she succeeded in getting the painting
loose； and handing back the frame； remarked：
〃I will take the painting； but you must keep the frame。 My husband
would never allow me to accept anything of value from you！〃 … and smiled
on the speechless painter； doubtless charmed with her own tact。
Complacent people are the same drag on a society that a brake would
be to a coach going up hill。 They are the 〃eternal negative〃 and would
extinguish； if they could； any light stronger than that to which their weak
eyes have been accustomed。 They look with astonishment and distrust at
any one trying to break away from their tiresome old ways and habits； and
wonder why all the world is not as pleased with their personalities as they
are themselves； suggesting； if you are willing to waste your time listening
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to 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。
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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
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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
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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 a
