New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1911-09-09

stand the simple passion WHICH gave
his hand its daring =.
We have our own guess; we sit con,
tentedly among the gossips' VINO Wou,u
not gossip proudly when Id oioou '.t'a.
is the theme? We think we know what
manner of man this happy Paris is. ne
| saw his lady OF the Alpine peaks VIII
ing with her eternal smile Witrih the
frame that could not hold her. roi
four long centuries she had waited, Sc
rene and tireless. Her eyes had sought
him out among the generations oi men,
and they had never wearled III ,heii
search. She had stood conndent anu ca
pectant. waiting with her foldeo hahus
for the day that was to come. she re-
rnembered something of the other men
who had jostled and struggled arouhu
her, dim specks in the valley wnere ,he
white water curves its question among
the rocks. There was King Francis WHO
had paid great sums to possess ner III
her immortal youth. She thought OF
him as the man who had mace the
wrong epigram. Tout est perdu saui
Phonneur" he had said at Pavia. BUT
Mona Lisa remembered that she 700
was safe at Fontainbleau-safer imam
any monarch's honor. She remembered
Il and smiled. There was another
man who marched up to her as
conqueror. But wellington turned,
rigid virtuous and English, and
still she adorned a royal wall In
France. She remembered the honest
man and smiled. There came another,
the German Bismarck, who Catered ms
sword and took his millions and rode
away. She remembered his Indifference
and smiled Napoleon, she sometimes
thought, might have been her Paris had
she never quilted Florence, but Napo-
Icons taste was little inidscrimlnate
and voracious She thought dimly or
the crowds that had filed before her, the
photographers and the critics, the
phrasemakers and the laggards In love.
They had called her smile an enigma.
They had gloated on her folded hands.
They had written their monographs and
burdened the presses Of Oxford with
their ESSAYS. And at last Paris APP
peared He wrote no monographs; he
published no phrases. But he did what
neither Wellington nor Bismarck had
dared. She shares a garnet with him In
Montmartre to-day. The curious world
Of the capital gosslps down below. The
newspapers of two hemspheres shout
their questions. and neat little men In
blue cloaks and swords run questioning
among the dealers and the pawnshops.
The man has come at last who has
dared to answer the challenge Of that
smile. IT had searched the Renaissance
i'm vain. II knew the inanity Of the EN-
lightenment. 1t saw the Romantics
nerveless and afraid. But II has found
at length the man who would risk fut-
ure and honor friends and fame, Tor
the glory OF Helen's possessing. And
still the smile plays gently round the
corners of the upturned mouth. the
unique lover. the daring lover, is not less
diverting than the rest. The hands are
folded idly; they will not grasp the OAR
ing right which snatched her from her
Republican Menelaus.
Let us proclaim this man the greatest
OF all thieves. Others have stolen and
clothed their thefts in hypocrisy. When
Napoleon took the cross from the Krem-
lin he meant to plant it on the dome or
the Invalides, a glory for France. a
pride for his citizen subjects. When
Lord Elcin brought the marbles from
the Parthenon he meant to rescue them
from the imp'ous hands Of the Turk
and display them to the gaze Of London.
But this man has stolen only for him
self. No alloy OF patriotism mars his
sublime rapacity; no thought Of the
common veal makes his dishonesty dis
honest. We figure him TO ourselves, a
simple, poor man. inhabiting hired
garrett, eating frugally his bread and
cheese and grapes before the worlds
priceless treasure which is his. Other
men have robbed kings and millonaires.
hut he has robbed the human race.
There was no overman before him. no
individualist to vie with him. He has
vindlcated his right to beauty, and he
sits before her to-day. q conqueror. tast-
ing in his anonymity the envy Of man.
kind What an experience is his. For
four centuries the Sphinx. Of the Rocks
IN and smiled "a
crowds But he has lived with her
alone. He sits facing her. drinking in
the magic of that smile which no other
can enjoy What is any other posses
sion to compare with his? He cannot
bequeath her to his heirs. he cannot ball
ance her AGAINST his debts She is his
rs our hands and feet are our own. but
ageless and immortal. Does he think
of the future as lie gazes at her in the
first delirium of possession? He turns
TO his we'll thumbed copy Of Lionardo's
notebook. and finds there that cutlery
q galnst mutablity-"O. envious age. ,
thou destroyest all things and devourest
all things with the hard teeth of the
years, little by little, In slow death!
Helen. when she looked In her mirror
and saw the withered wrinkles which
old age had made in her face, wept and
wondered TO herself why ever she had
twice been carried away" He knows
that his Helen will never fade. There
will come no wrinkles in that smooth
and rounded brow. nor creases in the
idle hands that have Knocked the Ia
bors OF four centuries. But he knows
as he gaZes, that he will grow old and
die. and he asks himself whether he will
re greet his infamous daring. He takes /
his pen. as he muses.. and drafts with II
his testament With some faint recol- !
lection OF Nelson, he bequeaths his Inn |
mortal Helen To the gratitude OF the |
French people. The smiling lips greet
him as lie raises his eyes once more TO |
the canvas on his easel. He feels him !
self Tthonus. welded to the dawn, the |
mortal linked to the undying bride. He /
sinks In his own esteem. the robber or |
the human race. the giant who had |
scaled Olympus. the man who had raped |
a eoddcss-sinks until he feels himself |
an item in the life Of the eternal. Francis |
carried her to Fontainebleau. David |
put her in the Louvre. score or d.
rectors and ministers have moved her
from one room TO another. Porters have
carried her. Custodians have handled
her. And he--he has borne her from
the Louvre TO his Montmartre garrett |
She smiled through all her mierations.
She smiles with the same serene eX-
pectancy to-day. Bahled, Inundated, he
carries her once more stealthily and
sadly back TO the Louvre. and places
her against the old familiar wall In her
place OF honor. The epl-
sode Is over the rape accomplished. me
divine grace has descended among men
and suffered violence. Unsullied. smil-
ing and expectant. she returns to await
once more the thoughtess kings the
honest conquerors. the careless barbar-
ians. the laggard lovers and the rare
Paris OF four hundred years. Even to
Paris her only favors We're the question