The daily dispatch. [volume] (Richmond [Va.]) 1850-1884, 1852-01-26
From Chambers Edinburgh Magazine.
THE MEDIOCRACY.


THE MEDIOCRACY.
man of genius was once sitting in q theatre
looking with wonder at The happy faces around
him, and listening in perplexity to the shouts
of laughter that echoed on all sides. The piece
was a poor mediocrity, the language tame, the
epigram pointless; and at length his surprise
merging in disgust, and that in testiness and
lll-humor, with a sweeping glance of fangry su-
perlorlty he left the house. Our man of genius
was not sorry for himself: he did not regret that
he could not be diverted like other people, but
was indignant with them for finding amusement
IN what was WEAKNESS to him.
He would now pass the evening with book.
1t should be book of recreation, for his mind
wanted unbendng: clever novel would be
better than dull play. But how to choose
lie was but little acquainted with that depart
ment OF literature, and he determined to take
extensive popularity as the test of merit. Cast.
ing his eye, therefore, along the shelves of the
circulating library, he fixed upon spot where
the volumes were Trailer and dingier in appear.
ance than elseW here, and selected the frailest
and dngiest of them all. At home with his
prize, he sat down to be happy. But he was
not happy. The book was commonplace. II
had no interest, no story, no fancy, no charac.
ter. He contOunded the persona one with an
other. They seemed to be always drinking
tea, and arguing about something or other-be
did not know what. They soon began TO min.
gle and fit before his heavy eyes; their voices
sank into drowsy monotone; his head droop.
ed lower and lower; and at length as his brow
raped the table, he started up in renewed in
dignation. But this time his anger was sick.
lied DER with the pale cast of thought He
looked curiously at the torn and stained leaves,
the folded corners-tokens of the patient inter-
est which would take the next opportunity of
returning to labor oflove-the half-obliterated
traces of some critical pencil, expressive of dis
sent or admiration. He calculated in imagi-
nation the number of perusals it had taken to
change permanently the very color of the pa
per. Then vision rose before him of the thea
tire he had left, with its merry faces and ap-
plauding voices; and his disdain began to give
way before an oppressive sense of magnitude
and multitude.
But he must spend his evening somehow.
for he had resolved against work and taking
his crush-hat out of its boz, and elonga;ing il
to the orthodox figure, he set forth for one of
the drawing-rooms To which he had the entree
Here the lights, the colors, the motion, the fair
faces, the graceful forms, feassured him; and he
drew near to group after group, that the buzz
of voices might resolve for his qualification into
articulate dialogue. But what dialogue? With
out thought, without spirit, without substance
more pointless than the play, tanner than the
novel, and minus the grace of manner which
pleaded for the one, and the elegance of Ian
guage which concealed the poverty of the 9th
er, it seemed the very quintessence of common
place. In one or two corners a question of
literary or social interest was discussed; but
these corners were avoided by the throng, who
listened with the most animated attention to
platitudes which, if turned into print, could
hardly have amused even the most devoted
novel reader. The philosophical observer, how
ever, was no longer indignant; his disiain was
lost in kind Otawe, as the audience at the play,
the countless readers of the book, and the bril-
liant assembly before him, all met and mingled
in single body, which seemed to overwhelm
and crush him with its vastness. Il was wrong ,
said he, communing with himself, as he elon-
gated his hat again to go out into the street /:
my contempt arose from ignorance-my indig
nation from weakness; the Medocracy is
great power, which can neither be wounded by
the one nor intimidated by the other.'
He was right. Mediocre and common
place. used as terms of contempt, are meaning
less when applied to the great body of the age.
Beneath this body the lower intelligences in
dicate imperfect beings approaching gradually
the standard: above it, the higher intelligen-
ces are merely a few ofshoots thrown out into
the future-the pioneers and forlorn hopes of
the present. 1t is on the main body genius de-
pends for nourishment and reward. When ge-
future of the present commonplace generation;
for this generation is the parent of everything
that will be excellent and glorious in the COM
ing time. Let not genius suppose itself to be
anything independent or self existing for it de-
rives its origin, force, and authority from the
commonplace mass il affects to despise. Ma
poleon was literally, what he has been called
in another sense, the man of the age;' for if
the thong hit which governed his career had not
/.
French mind, he would have been but a stun
ted corporal after all. Scott could not of him.
self have brought about a revolution in ro-
nance; for unless the public taste had been in
a state of Appropriation, he would have written
in vain. Genius, in short, must be e. rapport
with the time it addresses, or its electric force
will have no effect.
This explains the reason why commonplace
literature pleases commonplace readers, and
why commonplace people are in their element
in commonplace company. If you desire an
ignorant man 20 choose between a book of sci
ence and novel, his choice will fall upon the
novel, because that belongs 10 a species oflite-
rature he comprehends. He can feel an inter-
est in persons and personal adventures, which
does not seem TO him TO attach to Tcasonings
and experiments; and. in like manner, if the
novel developes some high principle, or is en-
riched with profound thought, ne VIII wiii,hg-
ly exchange it for another better adapteo 10
the calibre Of commonplace mind. 30, IN
comnany. ike affects like. commonplace
man will always have the majority in his Ia
yor. We do not listen TO celebrity because
we are interested in what he says. II that
were written in a book, we Of the mediocracy
would not cut the leaves; but hearing it from
the man himself cira cOee, we take it as a part
of the show. When the star OF the evening has
disappeared, then orr true pleasure begins,
and that consists in exchanging commonplace
what we have seeu and heard. The universal
buzz that runs through the room IL not the
buzx Of applause, but Of busy self.saiisfaciion.
We are exercising an instinct Of orr commons
place being. and deriving from the exereiae the