"Nathaniel Hawthorne - The Artist of the Beautiful" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawthorne Nathaniel)

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 townspeople 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
clock-work, 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