The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1885-11-05

| lucre? When there are several ends to
be attained. let us. he saws. always
choose the least noble. When several
may have been at work. let Us. SAYS the
cynic, choose the basest. Thus society
means crush at an lat home. din
ner party of twenty peOple-strangerS
to each other; futile attempt not to
appear bored; perfectly transparent
pretense at enjoyment; and such terms
as friendship. gratitude and honor are
now tolerably deYOid of meaning. Cler-
gymen are. by the nature of their pro-
fession, humbugs. All political men
have one single aim and no other-to
get or to keep place. And the little
things that we were once taught to re-
gard as among the most pleasant in
life, the gathering of families, the talk
ing over old times with brothers and
cousins and the joyous public festivities,
these are the saddest humbugs of
modern civilization, the things that
poison our cup of happiness. With
these maxims and some few others the
literary cynic makes out pretty well.
The art cynic has narrower sphere
of action. You NAV find him about the
picture galleries. He stands before a
picture where The whole soul-a poor
thing, perhaps, but all he has of the
artist has been poured out. Women,
looking at the fixed thought on the
canvas, are moved to tears. He, how
ever is unmoved. After mature consid-
Grafton he turns to his friend and
whispers audibly: "Ah! yes-pretty
well-the old trick, YOU see!' So the
simple country folks dry their eyes,
ashamed to be seen crying over picture
that is done by the ''old trick. and 60
on to the next, all their pleasure spoiled.
Sometimes he gets an opportunity of
speaking out in some review. Then,
taking the picture in detail, he has a
chance to sheer at every one.
The theatrical cynic-he never laughs
and never cries; needless to add that
he never applauds. His finest opportu-
nifty is when the whole house is in tears.
He is wont, then, to turn round to the
man with him, whose throat is. perhaps,
chOked at the moment with a sup
pressed sob, and to whisper loudly:
Very badly done, all this. l never
saw a worse piece" So that the peo-
pie all round leave off crying and try
not to feel interested in the heroine's
sufferings. In the same way, when
faces are broadened with grins, when
boxes and pit and gallery are
roaring with laughter, he will sit with
unmoved countenance orremark, impa-
tiently, dear me! this is very melan-
choly!" which has an effect upon the
audience similar to that of oil upon the
unnumbered smiles of ocean. Some
nights ago | saw two of these critics at
a New York theater. They were not
greatly advanced in years. the elder
being apparently about twenty-one.
They listened with grave faces at the
funny parts. keeping, l thought, fur
tive eye one on the other, to detect and
deride any accidental lurking smile,
but when we came to the miSfortunes
of the heroine, and the agony was piled
up higher than we could well bear. these
two young heroes. with whom intellect
and an overwhelming appreciation of
art altogether conquered and drove out
sympathy, and with whom the critical
faculty so far mastered the emotional,
that theyllost the power of feeling, the
thought, in watching for the expression
of the poet, suddenly rose, moved by a
common impulse. BAH said the
younger. with an infallible air of disdain,
what rot it is! Let us get out of here"
So they got out. The two boys were.
after all. only boys. As for the rest of
us we cried and laughed at the foolish
piece till our sides ached.
| saw young but very promising
cynic the other day, in an Episcopal
Church. Three boys were sitting
together, he in the middle. but | think
he had come alone. The other two
pulled out their Bibles and followed the
lessons, joined in the chants, sang the
hymns, knelt for the prayers, and gener-
ally cOmpOrted themselves with be-
coming reverence and propriety. He,
however. my cynic, regarded them, to
right and left, with an air of the most
sublime contempt. He would look
around the church, as if to call atten-
ton to this prepoSterous humbug and
his own superiority. In Difference to the
service, he stood up for the hymns and
sat down for the lessons; but he neither
knelt, nor joined in the singing, nor
affected anything but the most supreme
boredom at the whole thing. ''Relig-
ion?" he seemed to say. Prayers?
piety? Dear, dear. what absurditv"
OF inferior quality, but, perhaps,
more effective in his small wav, is the
domestic cynic. He it is who takes care
that none of his household shall be
possessed of any foolish notions of adj
miration toward their friends or &C
quaintances. He knows the cheapness
of friends liquor; the reaSon-sordid
and selfish of course of another
friends kindness to him; the I'M
trustworthy character of a third; and
so on. Much as we may admire the
other kinds of cynics, confess that
toward this one l feel a repugnance.
owing chiefly, l suppose, to some defect
in my organization that forbids me to
write about him with philanthropical
calm. But these great and noble men
whose aim it is to show the world what
it really is, and not what it pretends or
hopes TO be: to put down sentiment and
all the things which foster absurd
friendships, excessive admiration, IA
matte principle. devotion to a cause, low
atty and the like passions, which have
produced such great d sasters to the
world. who have discovered the real
roots of love, and now hold them up to
the derision of mistaken humanity;
who tear his fancied honor from man
and her imaginary modesty from
woman, what things shall be said in
their praise, and what reward shall be
bestowed upon them from a grateful
people? Posterity will. perhaps, when
no illusion is left, and none of the Old
World reverence for age, dignity and
nrincinleS award To the modern nr-r;o