From the Easy Chair, Volume 1Curtis, George William
General
From the Easy Chair, Volume 1
Curtis, George William
American essays
And yet the Lady Cavaliere is too well informed not to know that it
was not the silken chivalry who planted the king's standard and
defended it with all heroism, in whose praise the poets sang, who are
still the heroes of romance, and whose life had the charm of grace and
ease and accomplishment and _savoir faire_, that saved England and a
great deal more. The lady has sauntered through the palaces where the
Vandyck portrait of the king hangs upon the walls, the handsome,
melancholy Stuart. She looked at it secretly, perhaps, with something
of the same feeling that men think of the hapless Mary, as we call
her. What a gentleman! how refined! how sad! how agreeable to the
fancy! Yes, dear lady, and what a liar! how false-hearted! who would
have had his own foolish way whatever happened to other men! He would
have gratified your taste to the utmost; you would never have said
under your breath, "How I hate reformers!" he would have, perhaps,
carried your imagination and taste against your conscience and
judgment. And it is for that very reason--because taste and
imagination are so subtly seductive--that it is essential to challenge
them. St. Anthony did not mind the devil as a dragon; but the devil as
a siren--ah! how hard St. Anthony had to pray!
Change is apt to present itself first in its unhandsome aspect. You
would much rather hear a lute in the moonlight upon the lawn, and
behold! a coarse plough and a frightful harrow. Yet, so lutes and
lawns begin. You like the smooth music of a silken court, the
picturesque ceremony, the poetic tradition, the perfume, the splendor,
and lo! a troop in jerkin pricking to the fray in horrible earnest,
and blood, and ghastly wounds, and torture, and merciful death! Yet,
so courts and ceremonies are instituted. One of the hardest battles
that reform has to fight is this battle in the air--so to speak: this
contest with taste and imagination that cling to the myriad-hued moss
and the delicate vine fringe upon the ogre's castle, and that find the
donjon so much more picturesque than the house.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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