MR HILARY
"Certainly, ancient, it is not a thing to rejoice at:" I am one of those who cannot see the good that is to result from all this mystifying and blue-devilling of society. The contrast it presents to the cheerful and solid wisdom of antiquity is too forcible not to strike any one who has the least knowledge of cla.s.sical literature. To represent vice and misery as the necessary accompaniments of genius, is as mischievous as it is false, and the feeling is as uncla.s.sical as the language in which it is usually expressed.
MR TOOBAD
It is our calamity. The devil has come among us, and has begun by taking possession of all the cleverest fellows. Yet, forsooth, this is the enlightened age. Marry, how? Did our ancestors go peeping about with dark lanterns, and do we walk at our ease in broad sunshine?
Where is the manifestation of our light? By what symptoms do you recognise it? What are its signs, its tokens, its symptoms, its symbols, its categories, its conditions? What is it, and why? How, where, when is it to be seen, felt, and understood? What do we see by it which our ancestors saw not, and which at the same time is worth seeing? We see a hundred men hanged, where they saw one. We see five hundred transported, where they saw one. We see five thousand in the workhouse, where they saw one. We see scores of Bible Societies, where they saw none. We see paper, where they saw gold. We see men in stays, where they saw men in armour. We see painted faces, where they saw healthy ones. We see children perishing in manufactories, where they saw them flourishing in the fields. We see prisons, where they saw castles. We see masters, where they saw representatives. In short, they saw true men, where we see false knaves. They saw Milton, and we see Mr Sackbut.
MR FLOSKY
The false knave, sir, is my honest friend; therefore, I beseech you, let him be countenanced. G.o.d forbid but a knave should have some countenance at his friend"s request.
MR TOOBAD
"Good men and true" was their common term, like the chalos chagathos of the Athenians. It is so long since men have been either good or true, that it is to be questioned which is most obsolete, the fact or the phraseology.
MR CYPRESS
There is no worth nor beauty but in the mind"s idea. Love sows the wind and reaps the whirlwind.[9] Confusion, thrice confounded, is the portion of him who rests even for an instant on that most brittle of reeds--the affection of a human being. The sum of our social destiny is to inflict or to endure.[10]
MR HILARY
Rather to bear and forbear, Mr Cypress--a maxim which you perhaps despise. Ideal beauty is not the mind"s creation: it is real beauty, refined and purified in the mind"s alembic, from the alloy which always more or less accompanies it in our mixed and imperfect nature.
But still the gold exists in a very ample degree. To expect too much is a disease in the expectant, for which human nature is not responsible; and, in the common name of humanity, I protest against these false and mischievous ravings. To rail against humanity for not being abstract perfection, and against human love for not realising all the splendid visions of the poets of chivalry, is to rail at the summer for not being all sunshine, and at the rose for not being always in bloom.
MR CYPRESS
Human love! Love is not an inhabitant of the earth. We worship him as the Athenians did their unknown G.o.d: but broken hearts are the martyrs of his faith, and the eye shall never see the form which phantasy paints, and which pa.s.sion pursues through paths of delusive beauty, among flowers whose odours are agonies, and trees whose gums are poison.[11]
MR HILARY
You talk like a Rosicrucian, who will love nothing but a sylph, who does not believe in the existence of a sylph, and who yet quarrels with the whole universe for not containing a sylph.
MR CYPRESS
The mind is diseased of its own beauty, and fevers into false creation. The forms which the sculptor"s soul has seized exist only in himself.[12]
MR FLOSKY
Permit me to discept. They are the mediums of common forms combined and arranged into a common standard. The ideal beauty of the Helen of Zeuxis was the combined medium of the real beauty of the virgins of Crotona.
MR HILARY
But to make ideal beauty the shadow in the water, and, like the dog in the fable, to throw away the substance in catching at the shadow, is scarcely the characteristic of wisdom, whatever it may be of genius.
To reconcile man as he is to the world as it is, to preserve and improve all that is good, and destroy or alleviate all that is evil, in physical and moral nature--have been the hope and aim of the greatest teachers and ornaments of our species. I will say, too, that the highest wisdom and the highest genius have been invariably accompanied with cheerfulness. We have sufficient proofs on record that Shakspeare and Socrates were the most festive of companions. But now the little wisdom and genius we have seem to be entering into a conspiracy against cheerfulness.
MR TOOBAD
How can we be cheerful with the devil among us!
THE HONOURABLE MR LISTLESS
How can we be cheerful when our nerves are shattered?
MR FLOSKY
How can we be cheerful when we are surrounded by a _reading public_, that is growing too wise for its betters?
SCYTHROP
How can we be cheerful when our great general designs are crossed every moment by our little particular pa.s.sions?
MR CYPRESS
How can we be cheerful in the midst of disappointment and despair?
MR GLOWRY
Let us all be unhappy together.
MR HILARY
Let us sing a catch.
MR GLOWRY
No: a nice tragical ballad. The Norfolk Tragedy to the tune of the Hundredth Psalm.
MR HILARY