the artist of the beautiful-第2部分

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give　firmness　to　my　heart　and　hand；　and　not　shake　them　thus；　for

if　I　strive　to　put　the　very　spirit　of　beauty　into　form　and　give

it　motion；　it　is　for　thy　sake　alone。　O　throbbing　heart；　be　quiet！

If　my　labor　be　thus　thwarted；　there　will　come　vague　and

unsatisfied　dreams　which　will　leave　me　spiritless　to…morrow。〃



As　he　was　endeavoring　to　settle　himself　again　to　his　task；　the

shop　door　opened　and　gave　admittance　to　no　other　than　the

stalwart　figure　which　Peter　Hovenden　had　paused　to　admire；　as

seen　amid　the　light　and　shadow　of　the　blacksmith's　shop。　Robert

Danforth　had　brought　a　little　anvil　of　his　own　manufacture；　and

peculiarly　constructed；　which　the　young　artist　had　recently

bespoken。　Owen　examined　the　article　and　pronounced　it　fashioned

according　to　his　wish。



〃Why；　yes；〃　said　Robert　Danforth；　his　strong　voice　filling　the

shop　as　with　the　sound　of　a　bass　viol；　〃I　consider　myself　equal

to　anything　in　the　way　of　my　own　trade；　though　I　should　have　made

but　a　poor　figure　at　yours　with　such　a　fist　as　this；〃　added　he；

laughing；　as　he　laid　his　vast　hand　beside　the　delicate　one　of

Owen。　〃But　what　then？　I　put　more　main　strength　into　one　blow　of

my　sledge　hammer　than　all　that　you　have　expended　since　you　were　a

'prentice。　Is　not　that　the　truth？〃



〃Very　probably；〃　answered　the　low　and　slender　voice　of　Owen。

〃Strength　is　an　earthly　monster。　I　make　no　pretensions　to　it。　My

force；　whatever　there　may　be　of　it；　is　altogether　spiritual。〃



〃Well；　but；　Owen；　what　are　you　about？〃　asked　his　old

school…fellow；　still　in　such　a　hearty　volume　of　tone　that　it　made

the　artist　shrink；　especially　as　the　question　related　to　a

subject　so　sacred　as　the　absorbing　dream　of　his　imagination。

〃Folks　do　say　that　you　are　trying　to　discover　the　perpetual

motion。〃



〃The　perpetual　motion？　Nonsense！〃　replied　Owen　Warland；　with　a

movement　of　disgust；　for　he　was　full　of　little　petulances。　〃It

can　never　be　discovered。　It　is　a　dream　that　may　delude　men　whose

brains　are　mystified　with　matter；　but　not　me。　Besides；　if　such　a

discovery　were　possible；　it　would　not　be　worth　my　while　to　make

it　only　to　have　the　secret　turned　to　such　purposes　as　are　now

effected　by　steam　and　water　power。　I　am　not　ambitious　to　be

honored　with　the　paternity　of　a　new　kind　of　cotton　machine。〃



〃That　would　be　droll　enough！〃　cried　the　blacksmith；　breaking　out

into　such　an　uproar　of　laughter　that　Owen　himself　and　the　bell

glasses　on　his　work…board　quivered　in　unison。　〃No；　no；　Owen！　No

child　of　yours　will　have　iron　joints　and　sinews。　Well；　I　won't

hinder　you　any　more。　Good　night；　Owen；　and　success；　and　if　you

need　any　assistance；　so　far　as　a　downright　blow　of　hammer　upon

anvil　will　answer　the　purpose；　I'm　your　man。〃



And　with　another　laugh　the　man　of　main　strength　left　the　shop。



〃How　strange　it　is；〃　whispered　Owen　Warland　to　himself；　leaning

his　head　upon　his　hand；　〃that　all　my　musings；　my　purposes；　my

passion　for　the　beautiful；　my　consciousness　of　power　to　create

it；a　finer；　more　ethereal　power；　of　which　this　earthly　giant

can　have　no　conception；all；　all；　look　so　vain　and　idle　whenever

my　path　is　crossed　by　Robert　Danforth！　He　would　drive　me　mad　were

I　to　meet　him　often。　His　hard；　brute　force　darkens　and　confuses

the　spiritual　element　within　me；　but　I；　too；　will　be　strong　in　my

own　way。　I　will　not　yield　to　him。〃



He　took　from　beneath　a　glass　a　piece　of　minute　machinery；　which

he　set　in　the　condensed　light　of　his　lamp；　and；　looking　intently

at　it　through　a　magnifying　glass；　proceeded　to　operate　with　a

delicate　instrument　of　steel。　In　an　instant；　however；　he　fell

back　in　his　chair　and　clasped　his　hands；　with　a　look　of　horror　on

his　face　that　made　its　small　features　as　impressive　as　those　of　a

giant　would　have　been。



〃Heaven！　What　have　I　done？〃　exclaimed　he。　〃The　vapor；　the

influence　of　that　brute　force；it　has　bewildered　me　and　obscured

my　perception。　I　have　made　the　very　strokethe　fatal

strokethat　I　have　dreaded　from　the　first。　It　is　all　overthe

toil　of　months；　the　object　of　my　life。　I　am　ruined！〃



And　there　he　sat；　in　strange　despair；　until　his　lamp　flickered　in

the　socket　and　left　the　Artist　of　the　Beautiful　in　darkness。



Thus　it　is　that　ideas；　which　grow　up　within　the　imagination　and

appear　so　lovely　to　it　and　of　a　value　beyond　whatever　men　call

valuable；　are　exposed　to　be　shattered　and　annihilated　by　contact

with　the　practical。　It　is　requisite　for　the　ideal　artist　to

possess　a　force　of　character　that　seems　hardly　compatible　with

its　delicacy；　he　must　keep　his　faith　in　himself　while　the

incredulous　world　assails　him　with　its　utter　disbelief；　he　must

stand　up　against　mankind　and　be　his　own　sole　disciple；　both　as

respects　his　genius　and　the　objects　to　which　it　is　directed。



For　a　time　Owen　Warland　succumbed　to　this　severe　but　inevitable

test。　He　spent　a　few　sluggish　weeks　with　his　head　so　continually

resting　in　his　hands　that　the　towns…people　had　scarcely　an

opportunity　to　see　his　countenance。　When　at　last　it　was　again

uplifted　to　the　light　of　day；　a　cold；　dull；　nameless　change　was

perceptible　upon　it。　In　the　opinion　of　Peter　Hovenden；　however；

and　that　order　of　sagacious　understandings　who　think　that　life

should　be　regulated；　like　clockwork；　with　leaden　weights；　the

alteration　was　entirely　for　the　better。　Owen　now；　indeed；　applied

himself　to　business　with　dogged　industry。　It　was　marvellous　to

witness　the　obtuse　gravity　with　which　he　would　inspect　the　wheels

of　a　great　old　silver　watch　thereby　delighting　the　owner；　in

whose　fob　it　had　been　worn　till　he　deemed　it　a　portion　of　his　own

life；　and　was　accordingly　jealous　of　its　treatment。　In

consequence　of　the　good　report　thus　acquired；　Owen　Warland　was

invited　by　the　proper　authorities　to　regulate　the　clock　in　the

church　steeple。　He　succeeded　so　admirably　in　this　matter　of

public　interest　that　the　merchants　gruffly　acknowledged　his

merits　on　'Change；　the　nurse　whispered　his　praises　as　she　gave

the　potion　in　the　sick…chamber；　the　lover　blessed　him　at　the　hour

of　appointed　interview；　and　the　town　in　general　thanked　Owen　for

the　punctuality　of　dinner　time。　In　a　word；　the　heavy　weight　upon

his　spirits　kept　everything　in　order；　not　merely　within　his　own

system；　but　wheresoever　the　iron　accents　of　the　church　clock　were

audible。　It　was　a　circumstance；　though　minute；　yet　characteristic

of　his　present　state；　that；　when　employed　to　engrave　names　or

initials　on　silver　spoons；　he　now　wrote　the　requisite　letters　in

the　plainest　possible　style；　omitting　a　variety　of　fanciful

flourishes　that　had　heretofore　distinguished　his　work　in　this

kind。



One　day；　during　the　era　of　this　happy　transformation；　old　Peter

Hovenden　came　to　visit　his　former　apprentice。



〃Well；　Owen；〃　said　he；　〃I　am　glad　to　hear　such　good　accounts　of

you　from　all　quarters；　and　especially　from　the　town　clock　yonder；

which　speaks　in　your　commendation　every　hour　of　the　twenty…four。

Only　get　rid　altogether　of　your　nonsensical　trash　about　the

beautiful；　which　I　nor　nobody　else；　nor　yourself　to　boot；　could

ever　understand；only　free　yourself　of　that；　and　your　success　in

life　is　as　sure　as　daylight。　Why；　if　you　go　on　in　this　way；　I

should　even　venture　to　let　you　doctor　this　precious　old　watch　of

mine；　though；　except　my　daughter　Annie；　I　have　nothing　else　so

valuable　in　the　world。〃



〃I　should　hardly　dare　touch　it；　sir；〃　replied　Owen；　in　a

depressed　tone；　for　he　was　weighed　down　by　his　old　master's

presence。



〃In　time；〃　said　the　latter；〃In　time；　you　will　be　capable　of

it。〃



The　old　watchmaker；　with　the　freedom　naturally　consequent　on　his

former　authority；　went　on　inspecting　the　work　which　Owen　had　in

hand　at　the　moment；　together　with　other　matters　that　were　in

progress。　The　artist；　meanwhile；　could　scarcely　lift　his　head。

There　was　nothing　so　antipodal　to　his　nature　as　this　man's　cold；

unimaginative　sagacity；　by　contact　with　which　everything　was

converted　into　a　dream　except　the　densest　matter　of　the　physical

world。　Owen　groaned　in　spirit　and　prayed　fervently　to　be

delivered　from　him。



〃But　what　is　this？〃　cried　Peter　Hovenden　abruptly；　taking　up　a

dusty　bell　glass；　beneath　which　appeared　a　mechanical　something；

as　delicate　and　minute　as　the　system　of　a　butterfly's　anatomy。

〃What　have　we　here？　Owen！　Owen！　there　is　witchcraft　in　these

little　chains；　and　wheels；　and　paddles。　See！　with　one　pinch　of　my

finger　and　thumb　I　am　going　to　deliver　you　from　all　future

peril。〃



〃For　Heaven's　sake；〃　screamed　Owen　Warland；　springing　up　with

wonderful　energy；　〃as　you　would　not　drive　me　mad；　do　not　touch

it！　The　slightest　pressure　of　your　finger　would　ruin　me　forever。〃



〃Aha；　young　man！　And　is　it　so？〃　said　the　old　watchmaker；　looking

at　him　with　just　enough　penetration　to　torture　Owen's　soul　with

the　bitterness　of　worldly　criticism。　〃Well；　take　your　own　course；

but　I　warn　you　again　that　in　this　small　piece　of　mechanism　lives

your　evil　spirit。　Shall　I　exorcise　him？〃



〃You　are　my　evil　spirit；〃　answered　Owen；　much　excited；〃you　and

the　hard；　coarse　world！　The　leaden　thoughts　and　the　despondency

that　you　fling　upon　me　are　my　clogs；　else　I　should　long　ago　have

achieved　the　task　that　I　was　created　for。〃



Peter　Hovenden　shook　his　head；　with　the　mixture　of　contempt　and

indignation　which　mankind；　of　whom　he　was　partly　a

representative；　deem　themselves　entitled　to　feel　towards　all

simpletons　who　seek　other　prizes　than　the　dusty　one　along　the

highway。　He　then　took　his　leave；　with　an　uplifted　finger　and　a

sneer　upon　his　face　that　haunted　the　artist's　dreams　for　many　a

night　afterwards。　At　the　time　of　his　old　master's　visit；　Owen　was

probably　on　the　point　of　taking　up　the　relinquished　task；　but；　by

this　sinister　event；　he　was　thrown　back　into　the　state　whence　he

had　been　slowly　emerging。



But　the　innate　tendency　of　his　soul　had　only　been　accumulating

fresh　vigor　during　its　apparent　sluggishness。　As　the　summer