St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1889-08-04

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so generally refused to pay due honour
to these giants of thought till death had
crowned and consecrated them? These
inquiries have drawn forth an able art
icle in the last number of the British
National Review, from the pen of
PHILIP KENT, who holds that this
species of human injustice is largely ac-
counted for by the social friction which
is produced by the contact of the gifted
few with the common herd. Every
thing which is moulded differently from
the common herd ruffies and irritates
the common herd; consequently the art
ist is forced into life of isolation.
Thus the artist is an anomalous and
inconsistent being. He works under
the dominion of certain conditions
whose combination is an unfathomable
mystery. The operations of his intellect
are an inscluble enigma, even to him
self. But whether he derives his power
from the abnormal play of a faculty
common to his fellow men, or owes that
power to malformation of the brain
in which case genius must be reckoned
among the diseases of the brain, as the
pearl is a disease of the oySter-or
whether his existence is but an amplifi-
cation of text, the working out of
tyrannical idea inStilled into him by
God Himself, the artist is evidently not
his own master. As Mr.. KENT expresses
it ''he is mere tool in the hands of
force which is eminentIy caprlcious."
There are days when untold gold olld
not tempt to take up his brush, to GU III
morSel of modelling clay, CT to
write a single line. And then
there comes another day when. with
out an effort of his own, there floats
across the brain glowing picture or
life-like statue. or the plan of some APP
palling tragedy or brilliant comedy.
'1'is vision, brief and fleeing, yet as
profound as an Alpine precipice, and as
sublime as the murmur of an ocean. In
word, it IS the ecstasy of conceptio n
yelling the rending anguish of intel
lectuaf childbirth. These diamond
mines of thought will not come at the
artists beck and call. He must navi-
gate the vast ocean of meditation and
sound for them, and while he is en-
gagged in this work the vulgar herd C all
him star-gazing fool. The world has
no sympathy for him, and eonse-
quently he is brought into bad odor
with methodical men of business,
who look upon him as a lazy
being, trife better than
tramp, aShaps, and yet nothing bet
ter than an inSolent crank. He is lack
ing in fixed principles, and knows
nothing of method and system. His in
tensest toll is mistaken for idleness,
and his Indifference to pecuniary gain
is apt to be construed into want of
pluck and perseverance. Then, again,
there are dissensions in the world of
art. These arti SITS seldom ever agree
among themselves. They will spend a
lifetime quarreling with each other
over color or tint, or the pose of
hand, or a line in the body. Because
they give so much time and attention
and earnestness to what are triaes in
popular estimation, they are set down
as set of blathering idiots. Their bold
defiance of public opinion is construed
into a symptom of insanity, because the
world does not comprehend the faith
which underlies the excessive self-con-
fidence of artists. The vulgar noodles
who write down these men of genus as
asses do not understand that art con-
troverSies, scientific enmities, and liter
airy squabbles are mostly the outcome
of the firm conviction which is the
foundation of talent.
1t is no wonder, then, that the worlds
great artists are foredoomed to miSfort-
une. The artistic temperament renders
its posSessOr incapable of being appre-
ciated by those around him. His world
is not their world; as the heavens are
above the earth, so are his thoughts
above their thoughts. The superiority
of his intellectual vision renders him
incapable of seeing the little things to
which the world attaches so much
Importance. Those around him are
living in the present. He is conversing
with the future. And it is to future
generations that he looks for recogni-
ton. He labors Oh patiently, though
in poverty, as poor MILLET did, sup
ported by the consciousness that when
at last Death has crowned him King
then all the world will flock to his
funeral,