The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1873-11-06
HEROES AT HOME.

1
charmed circle of letters, but who be
lieve that the men and women that com
pose it are of different mold from tn
rest of mankind, and VINO long to b.
permitted to penetrate the ''rose hedge
and learn the facts of the Armida's gar
den for themselves sometimes learn then
too clearly for their dreams to be eve
possible again. They have a fayorit,
authOr-a poet, say, or a novelist. If /;
poet, he is probably one whose song'
are full of that delicious melancholy
which makes them so divinely sad al
aesthetic poet, blighted being, crea
ture walking in the moonlight among
the graves and watering their flowers
with his tears if a novelist, he is one
whose sprightly fancy makes the dull
world gay. A friend takes the worship.
er to the shrine where the idol is to be
found in other words, they go to call
on him at his own house. The meIan-
choly poet, "hidden in the light oi
thought, is a rubicurd, rosy-giIled gen.
tleman, brisk, middie-aged, comforta-
bic, respectable, particular as to his
wines, a connoisseur as to the merits OF
! the chief, bon ViUant of the Horatian
order, and, for talk, prone to personal
| gossip and feeble humor. The lively
novelist, on the other hand, is a taciturn
morose kind of person, afflicted with pc
rennial catarrh, ever ready with an un-
pleasant argument, given to start disa-
greeable topics of a grave, not to say
depressing, nature, perhaps a rabid pol
itician, taking gloomy views about the
currency, and respondent about our
carrying trade AS for the women they
never do look the thing they are repu-
ted to be, save in fashions and some
times in beauty. A woman who goes to
public meetings and makes speeches on
all kinds of subjects, tough as well as
doubtful, presents herself in society
with the look of an old maid and the
address of a shy schoolgirl. A sour
kind of essayist, who finds everything
wrong and nothing in its place, has
face like the full moon and looks as if
she fed on cream and butter. A novel
ist who sails very near the wind, and on
whom the critics are very severe, by
principle is as quiet as a Quakeress
in her conversation and as demure as a
nun in her bearing while a writer of
religious tracts has gowns from Paris
and gives small suppers out of the pro-
ceeds. The public character and pri-
vate being of almost every person IN
the world differ widely from each 9TH
er; and the hero of history, who is also
the hero to his valet, is yet to be found.
Some people call this difference incon-
sistency, and some many-sidedness to
some it argues shallowness, veneer, IN
reality, and is therefore unworthy OF es-
TEEN; to others it is but the necessary
of a complex human ma
ture, and a sign that the mind needs the
rest of alienation Just as much as the
body. We cannot be always in the same
groove never changing our altitude or OBJ
ject. Is it in consistency or supplement
or compensation The
sterner moralists, and those whose
minds dwell ON tares, say the former /;
those who look for wheat, even on the
stony ground anu among thorns, assert |
the latter. Anyhow, it is certain that
those who desire ideals, and who like |
to worship heroes, would do well to
content themselves with alteration at
long range. Distance lends enchant- |
ment, and ignorance is bliss in more
cases than one. Heroism at home is
something like humanity in Brobdignag
and the undress of the domestic hearth |
is more favorable to personal comfort !
than to public glory. To keep our
ideals intact, we ought to keep them
unknown. Our goddess should not be
seen eating beefsteaks and drinking !
stout our poets are best in print, and |
social small talk does not come like |
truths divine from their tongue our
sages and philanthropists gain nothing |
and may lose much by being rashly fol- |
lowed to their fresides. Yet, after all, |
a mans good work and brave word are,
in any case, a part of his real self, |
though they may be very far from be-
ing the whole and, even if he is not |
true metal all through, his gold, so far
as it goes, counts for more than its al
10y, and his public heroism oyertops his |
private puerility.-LOndOR Saturday /