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The Artist of the Beautiful
Asthesummeradvancedhealmosttotallyrelinquishedhisbusiness,andpermittedFatherTime,sofarastheoldgentlemanwasrepresentedbytheclocksandwatchesunderhiscontrol,tostrayatrandomthroughhumanlife,makinginfiniteconfusionamongthetrainofbewilderedhours.Hewastedthesunshine,aspeoplesaid,inwanderingthroughthewoodsandfieldsandalongthebanksofstreams.There,likeachild,hefoundamusementinchasingbutterfliesorwatchingthemotionsofwaterinsects.Therewassomethingtrulymysteriousintheintentnesswithwhichhecontemplatedtheselivingplaythingsastheysportedonthebreezeorexaminedthestructureofanimperialinsectwhomhehadimprisoned.Thechaseofbutterflieswasanaptemblemoftheidealpursuitinwhichhehadspentsomanygoldenhours;butwouldthebeautifulideaeverbeyieldedtohishandlikethebutterflythatsymbolizedit?Sweet,doubtless,werethesedays,andcongenialtotheartist’ssoul.Theywerefullofbrightconceptions,whichgleamedthroughhisintellectualworldasthebutterfliesgleamedthroughtheoutwardatmosphere,andwererealtohim,fortheinstant,withoutthetoil,andperplexity,andmanydisappointmentsofattemptingtomakethemvisibletothesensualeye.Alasthattheartist,whetherinpoetry,orwhateverothermaterial,maynotcontenthimselfwiththeinwardenjoymentofthebeautiful,butmustchasetheflittingmysterybeyondthevergeofhisetherealdomain,andcrushitsfrailbeinginseizingitwithamaterialgrasp.
