Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-02-05
THE PASSION ON THE PEAK
BY HERMAN SCHEFFAUER

on the SUBMITS storm sterlty and loneliness. She
had WINGS but they not eagles wings They may
indeed, have been angels or a swans. And in her,
through these years had burnt the saca ardor of the
pelcan she had fed with her blood that bird was
held to feed its young 1t not difficult to analyze
and realize all this when the avalanche and rolled
with broken wings down into the mre Of the valleys
Had but needed the signs, the weather overhead
heard the voice of warning in the West Wind from the
Golden Gate, read Alright the fatal hunger and WEAKNESS
in the dwndlng letters Elizabeth wroteere she wrote
the last!
The wisdom, instinct, what you will, Life often
grants to women to make their final choice of had
come at last to Elizabeth There the mounting
jealousy she had displayed of my devotion to my work
Now she knew that they had become rivals, and she
measured one passion by the other. Something whis-
pered into her there by the Pacific at is either
you she-the Muse of his art. The Muse longs to be
the spouse of the creative artist She will deign
earth women might she will never deign
to be only the mistress of him to whom she grants her
greatest gifts You earth woman, and with Louis
YOU would be but the second in his love!"
These, in fact, were almost her last words She had
found the other he had found her. earth man.
a safe mercantile, devoted, and solidy established
builder of nests.
THEN fell and awoke; and. being gifted with an
epic imagination, have always hkened that fall
and that awakening to Lucfers when. flung from the
ranpartS OF Heaven ne TO n11lSeH tOSSlllg anu
writhing in the black, burning lake. | tossed and
wrthed enough to be sure-ind stones and fire were
pentifuy supplied by the avengng circumstances The
skies that lowered down through the dusty topghts of
my studio grew uncommonly bleak; pictures stared
with strange. cold absolutely soulless faces out
raging my paternity; my whole world grew suddenly
quite colorless The voice and the smiles. the courage
and the INSPIRATION of Elizabeth had gone out of tas
they of and out of my creations. Technlc
remained; but soul gone-that inner, informing,
vitaizng and transferring element gone. stood
suddenly helpless on the peak had reached, looking
Czzly down the gulf that had opened in my life and my
lifes work. Her face still up out of the shadows;
but there light upon it. and 1T was hopeless as
nv Now realized that had labored for her, or
for U.S. rather than for myself. What cruel folly blinds
us to these supreme facts when might still make repa
ration!
So my brushes grew lusterless my days. and soon
the critics lifted their at the deterioration IN my
work | jug of new wine empty all too soon,
Dead Sea apple of art shell of clever Yankee perform
ance; but after ALL with little within or behind me- So
their damning phrases and stone cold judgments slew
what self faith still remained me- and confirmed the
giant fear that had undermined my courage Where, IN
ten years, would be? Down in the limbo with the
hopeless ones with the hacks and dried husks whose
souls and aspirations had evaporated long ago IN various
fiery furnaces! Yes, foresaw it disnnally.
VET in ten years found myself in better stead than
| had expected or doubtless, deserved. was at
least of group of respectable painters who were
prosperous if distinguished We supported one an
other with mutual praise and defense we were close
circle strained often enough however, by sharp gusts
of jealousy and discussion They fattered me rather
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