The Yale Literary Magazine (Vol. LXXXIX, No. 1, 1923)Various
General
The Yale Literary Magazine (Vol. LXXXIX, No. 1, 1923)
Various
College students' writings, American -- Connecticut -- New Haven -- Periodicals; Yale University -- Periodicals
A beautiful tolerance of the various actions of all other people is
perhaps the most comprehensive statement of the virtue we admired in
him so zealously. An ingenuously boastful boy of twelve would find
in him a ready admirer of his most cherished deeds, and he appeared
to really appreciate the condescension of the youth of eighteen who
saw fit to confide in him, and to take their opinionated selves with
decent ceremony where others among their elders would have been merely
annoyed or else distressingly amused. People you had always regarded
as obviously undesirable, you found him praising--not in the manner of
one who champions the weaker side on principle, but because he actually
found strange things to like about them. But he was not one of the
quiet, gentle, charitable type whose humanity seems the result almost
of a want of character, and as such a questionable asset: he relished
things with the eager tastes of a performer rather than an onlooker,
being blessed also with a watchful and sometimes bursting sense of
humor which was as his religion, making him deal with events in the
guise of a priestly buffoon and people with a surgery as incisive as it
was good-natured.
He was a connoisseur of people--a connoisseur of the happier type who
does not simply make a few things his own and damn the unfortunate
rest, but who finds that all food for the soul is good food, after all.
Thus he used to pick up all sorts of people and become tremendously
fond of them overnight. Any genuine person--whether a self-centered
young man or a despicable old one, or his gardener’s wife--was of the
greatest importance in his eyes. A trace of sentiment or pomposity in
one of the subjects of his observations was to him an intellectual
emetic as regards that person, but practically all other forms of
human failing delighted him quite as much, if not more than the most
inspiring strength. You felt that he, for one, had attained to a
perfect freedom from himself, so that he could sit back, unlike the
rest of us, and be entertained by the diverse abnormalities of his
companions: that he found his own passions wholly in the understanding
perusal of those of other people.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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