Class 1? H ? . \ 
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 Copyright N 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
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 of A rt 
 
 \n Ulegory 
 
 if- 
 
 Clarence I Schilling 
 
The Triumph of Art 
 
 An Allegory 
 
 By 
 
 Clarence J. Schilling \ A.B. 
 
 Editor of 
 
 The Dakota Catholic 
 
 Mark D. Scott, Sioux Falls > S. D. 
 
^ 
 
 <&%« 
 
 Copyright 1922 
 
 By Clarence J. Schilling 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 APR 29 1922 
 ©CLA661468 
 
DEDICATION 
 
 To my dear parents, who have always sought 
 to teach me how to love and seek the true, the 
 good and the beautiful in life; who have done 
 their utmost to give me a proper realization of 
 the fatal materialism and rationalism of the 
 age; who have urged me to keep literature, 
 music and drama, what God meant it to be, 
 the expression of all that is lofty and noble in 
 man — to those loving souls — Father now gone 
 to his reward, and Mother constant and un- 
 failing adviser — this humble effort is tenderly 
 dedicated by the author. 
 
 — C. J. S. 
 
 Sioux Falls, S. D. 
 January, 1922. 
 
Nihil Obstat. 
 
 Thomas Flynn, V.G. 
 
 Adm. Diocese of Sioux Falls. 
 
 Sioux Falls, S. D. 
 January, 19(22. 
 
INSPIRATION 
 
 The true artist pictures the exquisite things, 
 honor, magnanimity, love and all events, using 
 the outer life as studio and canvas for the 
 
 scenic art of the soul. — Martin Williston. 
 
 * * * 
 
 God has employed the sum total of His ob- 
 jective universe to teach men a rather simple 
 lesson. Every best gift, and every perfect gift 
 is from above, coming down from the Father 
 of Lights, with Whom there is no change nor 
 
 shadow of alteration. — W. H. Leary. 
 
 * * * 
 
 All that the world has ever been enabled to 
 understand and to feel as poetic is the result 
 of a wild effort to reach the beauty above. — 
 
 Edgar Allen Poe. 
 
 * * * 
 
 There is an art apart from the world; re- 
 motely above the squalid ambitions of men; 
 God-like in its calm strength and peace — an art 
 to which men may look for inspiration and 
 courage and hope. — H. B. Wright. 
 
 Sweetness and Light 
 
 The pursuit of perfection, then is the pursuit 
 of sweetness and light. He who works for 
 sweetness and light, works to make reason and 
 
the will of God prevail. He who works for 
 machinery, he who works for hatred, works 
 only for confusion. Culture looks beyond 
 machinery, culture hates hatred; culture has 
 one great passion, the passion for sweetness 
 and light; it has one even yet greater! — the 
 passion for making them prevail. It is not 
 satisfied until we all come to a perfect man; it 
 knows that the sweetness and light of the few 
 must be imperfect until the raw and unkindled 
 masses of humanity are touched with sweetness 
 and light. Those are the happy moments of 
 humanity, those are the marking epochs of a 
 people's life, those are the flowering times for 
 literature and art, and all the creative power of 
 genius, when there is a national glow of life 
 and thought, when the whole of society is in the 
 fullest measure permeated by thoughts, sensible 
 to beauty, intelligent and alive. Only it must 
 be real beauty, real thought, real sweetness, real 
 light. Culture in this way seeks to do away 
 with classes; to make the best that has been 
 thought and said in the world known and 
 current everywhere; to make all men live on 
 a higher and holier plane — to make reason and 
 the will of GOD prevail. — Matthew Arnold. 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 My purpose in writing this short allegory is 
 suggested in the dedication, namely to give my 
 readers in story form a true picture of the sad 
 condition of things in the field of art and 
 literature at the present time. ART, I BE- 
 LIEVE, IS THE EXPRESSION OF MAN'S 
 SOUL IN TERMS OF TRUTH AND BEAUTY, 
 the message of the Divine speaking in Nature, 
 voicing itself in literature, drama, painting, 
 sculpture and music — in short in anything 
 which man calls a fine art. 
 
 At the present time men have either never 
 known or have forgotten the true principles 
 and purpose of art. The age of Materialism, 
 Commercialism and Irreligion disregards all the 
 fine qualities of this God-given blessing; it dis- 
 regards the truths and beauties, which alone 
 can make art sublime and noble, and lead 
 men's souls to higher things, and thus makes of 
 art a mockery. Instead of artistic and aesthetic 
 masterpieces today we are greeted everywhere 
 with literary and dramatic trash, dramas utterly 
 devoid of anything inspiring and ennobling, 
 cubist and futurist daubings called art; ragtime 
 and jazz atrocities called music, and instead of 
 being despised by a sane and healthy-minded 
 people with rational souls, these things are 
 
welcomed and enjoyed by a public whose taste 
 is rapidly becoming perverted. 
 
 I have always had a great love for literary 
 and dramatic work, and have since my earliest 
 childhood admired music, painting and sculp- 
 ture. I am therefore shocked to see the sad 
 condition of affairs in the world today. I am 
 shocked to see the progress the Bolshevist 
 element is making, and I determined to do my 
 "bit" to help check it. I regret that I have not 
 the literary ability or picturing power of a 
 master. If I had, I would seek to preach this 
 message to all mankind, young and old, so that 
 everyone would be taught; that I would be able 
 to crush with one blow the debasing power and 
 influence of the spirit of the age. 
 
 The matter I present is above your criticism, 
 for it is the unchangeable doctrine of truth. 
 The manner in which I present it — O, let that 
 be beneath your criticism! 
 
 I have given you my message in story form 
 so that it will interest even the young folks. 
 The characters are named for the forces they 
 represent in life. You have met everyone of 
 them. They come into each one's life sooner 
 or later, as they have into mine. 
 
 My most earnest wish is that this humble 
 attempt to express my inmost thoughts may 
 bear at least some fruit, that some of my 
 
readers will understand more clearly the evil 
 influences of the age in which we live, and that 
 they will be led to search for true art at all 
 times, so that the Spirit of Nature and the sweet 
 and wholesome Inspiration of Religion may 
 triumph as they do in my little story. If this 
 humble effort accomplishes something in this 
 direction, I shall feel very happy in knowing 
 that I have performed a good work in the 
 interest of true Art. May she ever remain a 
 pure, undefiled gift of Nature to gladden and 
 elevate the hearts of men! 
 
 —The Author. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Talent— Our Hero. 
 The Spirit of the Age. 
 The Spirit of Self. 
 The Spirit of Frivolity. 
 The Spirit of Sensuality. 
 The Spirit of Greed. 
 The Spirit of Hypocrisy. 
 The Spirit of Intemperance. 
 The Spirit of Pleasure. 
 The Spirit of the Beautiful, 
 The Triumph of Art. 
 Conclusion. 
 
SYNOPSIS. 
 
 Talent, a gifted young man, the son of hard- 
 working, conscientious, noble-minded parents, 
 completes his college course and is ready to go 
 out into the world, and take up literary work 
 as a profession. The youth has been trained 
 in virtue as well as science, and he goes forth 
 well fortified to cope with all the enemies of his 
 soul and the opponents of true Art. 
 
 His uncle, who is a noted literary man in the 
 city, induces the young man to come to him 
 and work in his studio, a hot-bed of material- 
 istic and atheistic literature and art. Here 
 Talent meets all the forces for evil which 
 threaten the life and success of art at the 
 present time. He refuses the various offers 
 extended to him, rejects gold, honors, fame 
 and social distinctions, which are to be ex- 
 changed for the prostitution of all that is worth- 
 while in art, and eventually refuses to work 
 for his uncle under any consideration. 
 
 During the course of Talent's sojourn in the 
 city, he is entertained by the children of the 
 Age and Laxity, his uncle and aunt, and is 
 given every opportunity of enjoying the 
 pleasures of the rich and worldly. However he 
 becomes disgusted with the crimes of the 
 people, and longing for his art which he knows 
 
he can never find in Temptation City, he hurries 
 off to the mountains and lives for some time in 
 seclusion. 
 
 Some time later he finds the ideal of his 
 dreams, a beautiful young maiden, who proves 
 to be his inspiration. He marries the girl and 
 together they begin a wonderful play called 
 "The Triumph of Art," which produces a 
 marvelous effect on the people of Temptation 
 City. The real secret of success, however, is 
 the assistance and advise of the good old parish 
 priest who teaches the world the necessity of 
 returning to the old faith, the all-saving con- 
 solation of religion. 
 
 On the night of the opening performance of 
 Talent's play, "The Triumph of Art", his uncle 
 also produces a new play called "The Triumph 
 of Mammon" in his own theater just across 
 the street. The latter is a debasing musical 
 spectacle, more daring than anything of its 
 kind. While the play is in progress a fire 
 breaks out in the theater operated by the uncle 
 and nearly all the performers and spectators 
 meet a terrible death in the flames. 
 
 The sobering effects of the catastrophe and 
 the good influence of the play produced by 
 Talent on the same night, bring about the re- 
 juvenation of art in Temptation City. The 
 people no longer care for the irreligious and 
 
salacious plays and literature which have so 
 long made up the bulk of their entertainment. 
 The city is converted and peace and prosperity 
 reign. 
 
 Talent and his bride live to a good old age, 
 and they continue to turn out various works 
 of art to the delight of thousands of friends 
 and patrons. They are honored by the citizens 
 of the vicinity as the saviours of a fallen art. 
 
CHARACTERS APPEARING IN THE STORY 
 
 TALENT, our hero — endowed with rare gifts 
 of body and soul, who seeks and finds the good, 
 true and beautiful in Art. 
 
 TOIL — his father, faithful, generous and 
 prudent. 
 
 SELF-SACRIFICE— His mother, kind, loving 
 and unselfish. 
 
 ENCOURAGEMENT— The orator at Excelsior 
 College, who urges all young men to go forth 
 and lead good, pure and useful lives. 
 
 DISCOURAGEMENT AND PESSIMISM— 
 Who seek to discourage the youth's just and 
 righteous ambition, and destroy the confidence 
 he has in himself. 
 
 HOPE — Talent's good old grandmother, who 
 expects great things from him. 
 
 FAILURE AND FATALISM— Who never do 
 and never can hope for anything but mis- 
 fortune. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE AGE— Talent's rich 
 uncle, who commercializes and materializes 
 Art, and upon whom the Breath of the Divine 
 is lost. 
 
 LAXITY — Talent's aunt, in whom the concept 
 of true wifehood and motherhood has been 
 stifled. 
 
WISDOM — The good parish priest who repre- 
 sents God in a God-less age. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Constant companion of 
 Talent, and never-failing adviser. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF SELF— Eldest son of the 
 Age, the embodiment of egotism and self- 
 interest. 
 
 SENSUALITY— Another son of the Age, who 
 lives only to gratify his animal appetites. 
 
 INTEMPERANCE— Another son of the Age, 
 whose idol is liquor. 
 
 HYPOCRISY— Youngest son of the Age, who 
 veils his corrupt nature behind a cloak of right- 
 eousness. 
 
 FRIVOLITY— Daughter of the Age, who loves 
 idleness and senseless diversion. 
 
 PLEASURE— Another daughter of the Age, 
 lover and seeker of material joy to the exclusion 
 of all else. 
 
 MATERIALISM— The modern novelist, who 
 is a literary scavenger. 
 
 IRRELIGION— The modern short-story 
 writer, whose stories breathe the message of a 
 God-less world. 
 
 ATHEISM — The modern dramatist, who ridi- 
 cules the Divine. 
 
 REALISM — The modern illustrator, who 
 sketches the shameless subject. 
 
RAGTIME — The modern composer, producer 
 of debasing musical shows. 
 
 SUGGESTIVISM— The modern poetess, orig- 
 inator of fickle verse. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF GREED— A friend of the 
 Age, whose all-absorbing thought is the "al- 
 mighty dollar." 
 
 FAME — Another friend of the Age, who de- 
 lights in accepting public honors and the 
 flattery of critics. 
 
 SOCIAL DISTINCTION— Another friend of 
 the Age, who sacrifices all for a place among 
 the upper "smart set." 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE BEAUTIFUL— Talent's 
 life-mate, collaborator with him in the master- 
 piece: "Triumph of Art." 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF RELIGION— A priest of 
 God, who appears to our hero and heroine to 
 encourage them in their work. 
 
TALENT— OUR HERO 
 
TALENT— OUR HERO 
 
 "To thine own self be true, and it must follow as the 
 night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man." 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 It was commencement day at Excelsior Col- 
 lege, and everything was gay and bright. The 
 college auditorium where the exercises were 
 being held was artistically decorated with the 
 class colors and flowers of the fortunate young 
 men, who were soon to receive their degrees. 
 
 The hall was filled to overflowing with happy 
 parents and dear friends who had come to con- 
 gratulate the graduates on this their great day. 
 The class members themselves were assembled 
 in an artistic group on the little stage, and were 
 anxiously waiting for the exercises to begin. 
 They had longed for this day. The thought of 
 this day had served to encourage them many a 
 time during their long course when they had 
 been sorely tempted to give up. Life looked 
 very sweet to all of them now, for there was not 
 one in the crowd but expected to go out into 
 the world on the morrow and put his knowledge 
 and training to good advantage; to become a 
 shining light in some part of the business or 
 professional world. 
 
 [23] 
 
And the future looked gay and bright to us 
 at one time, when we received our diplomas 
 and left the sanctified walls of our "alma mater" 
 to face the world. 
 
 There was one young man among the gradu- 
 ates in whom we are especially interested. I 
 shall call him Talent, and he might have lived 
 in any day and age. In fact he lives today, 
 and will live as long as God continues to create. 
 He had finished the required course at the head 
 of his class and had been selected to deliver 
 the valedictory. His special gifts lay in the 
 departments of drama and literature, but he had 
 loved and admired all the fine arts from his 
 earliest youth. At his graduation his ambition 
 was to go out into the world and make the study 
 of literature and drama a profession. And in 
 his youthful enthusiasm he had pictured himself 
 at the summit of perfection in his chosen field, 
 even as you and I pictured ourselves at the 
 height of our profession when we graduated. 
 
 Talent was the only son of Toil and Self- 
 Sacrifice, noble, God-fearing parents, who knew 
 what it meant to have entrusted to their keep- 
 ing, "one of those little ones, whom Jesus 
 loved." Realizing their responsibility, they en- 
 deavored to fulfill their obligations toward their 
 son, and reared and trained him well for his 
 
 [24] 
 
battle with life. Themselves deprived of the 
 benefits of higher education, they determined 
 to do all in their power to provide for their 
 gifted offspring, and to enable him to get the 
 training which had been denied them. 
 
 When the time came, therefore they sent him 
 to Excelsior college, a flourishing institution 
 near home where religion and morality were 
 taught just as well as the secular branches, and 
 where excellence in scholarship and application 
 was deemed more important than prowess on 
 the athletic field or grace of bearing on the ball 
 room floor. 
 
 It meant an added sacrifice for the good 
 parents to send their boy to school. Toil had to 
 work even harder than before and Self-Sacrifice 
 had to be content with the old, faded gown of 
 the year before, but after all, the success and 
 happiness, and perchance the soul of their 
 darling boy were at stake, so they willingly en- 
 dured the added hardship. Even as many fond 
 fathers and mothers do today, even perhaps as 
 yours and mine did, so did the parents of 
 Talent suffer privations, that their boy might be 
 trained and fitted for his life work. 
 
 The good parents had bequeathed to their 
 beloved son the richest legacy in the world, a 
 single standard of morality, the fear and love 
 
 [25] 
 
of God, and an upright and noble character. 
 They had always idolized this boy of theirs and 
 he, instead of becoming selfish as so many do, 
 appreciated their love and devotion; he under- 
 stood their kindness and disinterested generosi- 
 ty, and tried to repay them by making the best 
 of his opportunities at school and utilizing his 
 time to good advantage. 
 
 Talent had been the most popular student in 
 the class. He had been very active in all the 
 literary and dramatic events in the college, and 
 had for some time been the director of the 
 dramatic society. He loved the drama and 
 knew it was the expression of man's soul and 
 mind on the speaking stage. His love for liter- 
 ature, music and painting had also enabled him 
 to become proficient in these departments. In 
 short he was a lover and admirer of the beauti- 
 ful. He felt that this world was a very delight- 
 ful place. He was convinced that one could 
 find beauty, and truth, and love anywhere in the 
 universe if one but chose to look for it. This 
 quest for the beautiful was part of his religion, 
 for only the good could be truly beautiful. Sin 
 was something essentially ugly and therefore 
 could never be beautiful no matter how it was 
 disguised. This doctrine was the foundation of his 
 
 [26] 
 
education at Excelsior College, and it formed 
 the gist of his speech on his graduation day. 
 
 The idealistic world as pictured by Talent, the 
 innocent youth of my story, is indeeed a delight- 
 ful place. Sheltered as he had been in the 
 sacred shrine of home, protected by the shelter- 
 ing walls of his Alma Mater, he could not know 
 anything of the world of Materialism as it exists 
 today. He had not dreamed that beyond his own 
 happy little world there existed the forces of the 
 Spirit of the World, Sensuality, Hypocrisy and 
 others of their kind, who interpreted the mes- 
 sage of art in a way much different from our 
 hero. He was soon to discover this to his 
 sorrow. 
 
 At the proper moment Talent rose to deliver 
 his valedictory. I shall not quote from it, but 
 merely say that it was a beautiful and inspiring 
 composition. In it he bade a fond and touching 
 farewell to the dear college, Excelsior, and its 
 zealous professors. He thanked the latter for 
 their interest in the class, their devotion to duty, 
 their kindness and unselfishness. At the end 
 he addressed a plea to the young men assembled 
 on the rostrum. He urged them to remember 
 the training they had received, and to be faith- 
 ful at all times to their college. 
 
 The inspirational text he chose, around which 
 
 [27] 
 
to shape his arguments was the sublime passage 
 of the master mind, Shakespeare: 
 
 "To thine own self be true 
 
 And it must follow as the night the day, 
 
 Thou canst not then be false to any man." 
 
 The speech was greeted by a thunder of well- 
 merited applause, and all the class members 
 surged forward to grasp the hand of the young 
 orator, who had expressed their sentiments so 
 appropriately in this last message to the old 
 college. Immediately the orator of the evening, 
 whom I shall call Encouragement, rose to de- 
 liver the baccalaureate address. It was after 
 the manner of speeches on such occasions, and 
 I shall merely mention a few of the main items 
 which have a bearing on this story. He said in 
 part: 
 
 "Now, my dear graduates, Your Alma Mater 
 bids you 'Au Revoir; Auf Wiedersehen', and 
 gives you her blessing. She expects you to go 
 into the world and fight with all the vigor of 
 young manhood, the spirit of materialism, 
 rationalism and atheism. She has fortified you 
 against the insidious snares of a perverted 
 world. O, never allow yourselves to be led from 
 the path of righteousness and duty, never permit 
 the Spirit of the Age to claim you as a disciple. 
 
 [28] 
 
You have the concept of true art, namely the 
 expression of the good, the true and the beauti- 
 ful; you have studied the message of Nature. 
 O, ne\er let that message be transformed into 
 the hideous phantasm which the present age 
 sacrilegiously calls Art. Art, whether it be in 
 the department of literature, drama, music, 
 painting, sculpture, or any thing else esthetic, 
 is the expression of Man's soul in terms of truth 
 and beauty. May you ever foster true Art and 
 teach the world the meaning of what is really 
 beautiful. 
 
 "Always remember the beautiful words of 
 Tennyson describing the knight, "My strength 
 is as the strength of ten, because my heart i& 
 pure," I shall close with those fitting words of 
 the poet which so beautifully describe the hope3 
 and ambitions of a young man who is ready to 
 face the world like yourselves: 
 
 "O River of to-morrow, I uplift 
 
 Mine eyes and thee I follow, as the night wanes 
 
 into morning 
 Still follow, follow sure to meet the sun 
 And, confident that what the future yields 
 Will be the right, unless myself be wrong." 
 
 Thus ended the speech, and when the other 
 ceremonies were over and Talent had received 
 
 [29] 
 
the congratulations of his friends, he turned 
 to his dear parents, Toil and Self-Sacrifice. He 
 was not ashamed of them, because they were 
 a trifle old-fashioned. He was proud to intro- 
 duce them to his teachers and friends, even 
 though his father's hands were callous and his 
 mother's dress faded. He tried to tell them of 
 his gratitude, and his appreciation, but they 
 silenced him by saying, that the way he could 
 repay them for their sacrifices, was to be faith- 
 ful to the training he had received. 
 
 The next moment two old men, ugly and 
 slovenly in appearance, came forward to speak 
 to our hero. The names of the two old men 
 were Discouragement and Pessimism. They 
 had not a word to say about his success or his 
 bright hopes for the future, but scowling and 
 sneering they remarked: 
 
 "Those were fine words, my young enthusiast, 
 but the world is not like you picture it. There 
 is nothing good in the universe, nothing bright 
 and hopeful to cheer the hearts of men, and in 
 all our years on earth we have never yet dis- 
 covered anything really beautiful. As for Truth, 
 we ask with Pilate of old, 'What is Truth?' 
 You will find to your regret, that your doctrine 
 is not practical." 
 
 As if to counteract the evil, effect of their 
 
 [30] 
 
words, our hero's aged Grandmother came up 
 and congratulated him. Her name was Hope, 
 and she immediately pointed out to the youth- 
 ful artist that even though there are many 
 wicked and ugly things in the world, there are 
 also many beautiful and sublime things if one 
 but learn how and where to look for them. She 
 promised that Talent would eventually be 
 successful in his search for Art, if he but re- 
 membered the training he had received from 
 his parents and teachers. 
 
 And surely we can all remember when Pessi- 
 mism and Hope contended for the mastery of 
 our own natures. Talent, though inclined to be 
 a trifle discouraged because of the promptings 
 of Pessimism, felt himself strengthened and ex- 
 alted on account of the promises of Hope. 
 
 Our hero went to his home and gradually 
 worked into the daily routine to which his par- 
 ents were accustomed. He saw something to 
 admire in everything. All the works of Nature, 
 all the actions of man were considered by him 
 through the eyes of Idealism. He looked about 
 him to find a department of Art in which he 
 could best make use of the wonderful gifts which 
 Nature had given him. His parents dissuaded 
 him from suddenly adopting one or the other 
 profession, without a consideration of its draw- 
 
 [31] ! 
 
backs. They knew his inexperience and inno- 
 cence, and waited for the right opportunity to 
 come which would give him his start. 
 
 Time went on and Talent had not begun his 
 life work. The worldly wise, Failure and Fatal- 
 ism shook their heads and said, 
 
 "He will never amount to anything. He is a 
 genius but he cannot make use of his gifts. 
 There is no room in this world for a dreamer." 
 
 Hope merely waited and said, "He will suc- 
 ceed. He will seize Opportunity when it comes. 
 Let us have patience." 
 
 One day Talent received a letter from his 
 uncle, the Spirit of the Age, who was a noted 
 literary man, living in the great city many miles 
 away. The letter came as a great surprise, for 
 the two families had not been on very intimate 
 terms for many years. They had lived apart and 
 owing to a very different view of life taken by 
 the Spirit of the Age and his family the good 
 parents of our hero had not deemed it advisable 
 to hold communication with them. The uncle 
 for his part had no regard for the conscience- 
 loving people in the smaller town and so they 
 had not seen each other for many a year. In 
 fact the uncle had not seen Talent since he was 
 a baby. 
 
 [32] 
 
The letter read as follows: 
 Dear Nephew Talent: — 
 
 You will no doubt be surprised to receive this 
 letter from your uncle in the big city, who has 
 not seen you for many a day. I recently heard 
 of your graduation, of your wonderful progress 
 in your studies and also of your remarkable 
 aptitude along literary and dramatic lines. Now 
 I need just such a promising young man here 
 in my office and will be glad to offer you every 
 opportunity to advance in the field of literature 
 and drama in which I am especially interested. 
 
 Gome to the city as soon as possible and I 
 will do all I can for you. I will take you into 
 my house and make you one of the family. 
 I will give you all the practical hints of the 
 trade for I know them all, and I can show you 
 how to adapt your rather idealistic ideas to 
 present circumstances. It is the opportunity of 
 a life time and I hope you will avail yourself 
 
 of {t Yours, 
 
 SPIRIT OF THE AGE, 
 Temptation Gity. 
 
 Talent was delighted when he received this 
 friendly epistle from his hitherto rather un- 
 friendly uncle in the great city. To him it 
 meant a long-looked for opportunity to begin 
 
 [33] 
 
his life work and of course he could not know 
 the temptations that would beset him, nor the 
 false teachings of the Age. To his parents it 
 brought both hope and dismay. They also saw 
 in it an opportunity for their son to launch his 
 craft on the sea of life, a chance to take up a 
 profession; but they also saw the inevitable 
 dangers which would surround him on every 
 side in the big city. 
 
 After due consideration and upon the advice 
 of the good parish priest an old friend of the 
 family whom I shall call Wisdom, it was finally 
 decided that Talent should accept the offer. 
 Wisdom however ordered that Conscience, the 
 faithful servant of the family, who had watched 
 over Talent from his earliest childhood, should 
 accompany the young man to the city, to act as 
 adviser and guide. 
 
 Wisdom warned him against many of the 
 snares which he would find in the big city, 
 Temptation; and told him to follow the dic- 
 tates of Conscience in all things; to remain 
 faithful to his religion, and to the lofty ideal 
 he had set for himself as expressed in his 
 graduation speech. 
 
 The parting between Talent and his parents 
 was sweet and touching. His father, Toil, told 
 him to remember always that there is a God, 
 
 [34] 
 
Who sees everything we do, even the most 
 secret and hidden deeds. His mother, Self- 
 Sacriiice, admonished him to do the right at any 
 cost, and keep his heart pure and his immortal 
 soul free from all blemish. She gave him as 
 keep-sake a little poem: 
 
 "Thou'rt like a tender floiveret, 
 Innocent and pure and fair; 
 I gaze on thee with joy, and yet 
 'Tis not without a shade of care; 
 It seems to me I needs must lay 
 My hand upon thy head and pray 
 That God will keep thee as thou art 
 So innocent and pure of heart" 
 
 Before taking leave of their son the good 
 parents gave him a little silver chest, which 
 bore the name 'Memory'. It contained the pic- 
 tures of his parents and a short note: 
 
 "Whenever you see this little chest, remember 
 your parents, and the lessons they have taught 
 you, and when tempted to do wrong think of 
 this: 
 
 "To thine own self be true, and it must follow 
 as the night the day, thou canst not then be 
 false to any man." 
 
 Talent promised to take good care of himself 
 and to remember the exhortations of his kind 
 parents and benefactors. He determined to heed 
 
 [35] 
 
the admonitions of Conscience in all things. He 
 took one last view of the peaceful little village 
 of Tranquility in which he had been born and 
 raised and in which he had spent so many 
 happy days. Finally he boarded the train and 
 was off for the great city which was to be his 
 future home, the big metropolis which I have 
 called Temptation City, the stronghold of the 
 Spirit of the Age, and Sensuality, Pleasure, and 
 Selfishness. In the midst of this whirlpool of 
 life and adventure our hero was to begin his 
 career. In it he was to be sorely tried; in it he 
 was to be offered all the allurements and entice- 
 ments which could possibly appeal to a young 
 man, and from it he was to receive the exper- 
 ience which would cause him to view life in a 
 new light. 
 
 As he neared his destination his heart beat 
 wildly in happy anticipation of the joys and de- 
 lights which would be his. How could he know 
 of the sorrows and disappointments. And even 
 as you and I have left the quiet village of 
 Tranquility and sought joys and pleasures in 
 the noisy and boisterous city of Temptation, so 
 did Talent seek them on this day. 
 
 [36] 
 
THE SPIRIT OF THE AGE 
 
THE SPIRIT OF THE AGE 
 
 I walked in the world with the worldly, 
 I craved what the world ne'er gave, 
 
 And I said, "In the world each Ideal 
 That shines like a star on Life's wave, 
 
 Is wrecked on the shores of the Real, 
 And sleeps like a dream in a grave." 
 
 — Rev. A. J. Ryan. 
 
 In due time Talent and his companion, Con- 
 science, reached Temptation City and were met 
 at the depot by the Spirit of the Age, who gave 
 them a hearty welcome, and immediately pro- 
 ceeded to show them the beauties of the great 
 metropolis. To Talent who had been brought 
 up in the quiet little village of Tranquility, the 
 city seemed indeed a wonderful place. He 
 gazed at its pomp and grandeur with rapture. 
 The tall buildings, the hustle and bustle of the 
 traffic, the eager crowds of people hurrying to 
 and fro, some in search of business enterprises, 
 other seeking pleasure; all this excitement and 
 activity, seemed very wonderful to Talent. He 
 was not to know until later that hustle, commo- 
 tion and excitement do not always bring peace 
 and joy. 
 
 The Age escorted the youth to an expensive 
 
 [39] 
 
restaurant and ordered a sumptuous dinner. 
 This gilded palace itself seemed to the inexperi- 
 enced Talent, a veritable wonderland. Its fur- 
 nishings, lights, decorations and music dazzled 
 the youth who had had never beheld anything 
 to compare with them, while the eager throng 
 of pleasure seekers, oblivious to everything but 
 the delights of the senses, appeared to Talent 
 to be a very happy crowd of individuals. How 
 could he know this was not real joy, or that 
 among these gay folks are sometimes to be 
 found the most unfortunate and most unhappy 
 people in the world? 
 
 Notwithstanding the impression the city made 
 on the village boy, the picture he had in his 
 mind of the peaceful village of Tranquility 
 nestling so cosily at the side of the mountain, 
 presented itself now, with startling vividness. 
 Here there was no babbling brook, no song of 
 the birds, no pretty sun-set, no pleasant greet- 
 ing between fellow-creatures; nothing but noise 
 and hurry and excitement and not a friendly 
 word of encouragement to make Life's journey 
 more pleasant. Here he heard only the harsh 
 whistles of the factories, the deafening shrieks 
 of street car wheels, the cry for money, the 
 feverish shouts of revellers, and once in a whole 
 a groan from some unfortunate, whose life in 
 
 [40] 
 
the city was becoming unbearable, who heard 
 the call of the great outdoors, and could not 
 answer it. 
 
 Soon after they had dined, Talent was taken 
 to the mansion of the Age. Here he was to 
 meet his uncle's family, and here he was to 
 make his home for some time. His aunt, 1 
 shall call Laxity — she was a typical wife of the 
 Age. She appeared to be a very stylish and 
 cultured lady, but Talent could not help but ob- 
 serve the difference between her and his own 
 good mother, Self-Sacrifice. Laxity was very 
 much of this world. She loved the city and its 
 excitement, took great delight in social functions, 
 loved to be at the head of the upper classes, and 
 was an ardent Suffragist, New-Thought advo- 
 cate, Sex-Hygiene enthusiast, and in general an 
 intellectual faddist. Her duties in the home did 
 not concern her much, nor did the training of 
 her children cause her much anxiety. She felt 
 that they were able to direct themselves. 
 
 The children of this well matched pair were 
 six in number, and as they figure quite prom- 
 inently in the history of our hero's activities, 
 I shall say a few words concerning each one. 
 
 The first was called the Spirit of Self, who 
 inherited all of his father's selfishness, and all 
 of his mother's ambition. He knew nothing of 
 
 [41] 
 
charity or brotherly love, and sought but the 
 eternal "Ego", and was never content if he 
 imagnied anyone to be in any way his superior. 
 He would sacrifice any ideal or principle, dis- 
 regard character, and virtue, to accomplish this 
 end. His father praised him and said that the 
 spirit of the times demanded that everyone pro- 
 vide for himself. 
 
 The next child was the Spirit of Sensuality, 
 who loved and sought only what was pleasing 
 and agreeable to the senses. He enjoyed good 
 times, in fact he cared for nothing else. He 
 nad plenty of money, provided by his indulgent 
 and foolish parents, and therefore he could 
 follow his idol to his heart's content. He took 
 part in all kinds of amusements, ate frequently 
 and in large quantities and in short did what the 
 irrational animals do, lived only to gratify his 
 senses. 
 
 Next came Intemperance, whose idol was the 
 liquor bottle. He had started to drink when 
 quite young, had fallen in with bad company, 
 and as his parents had not checked his down- 
 ward course he had gone from bad to worse 
 until he was now a stylish but hopeless 
 drunkard. 
 
 The last son was called Hypocrisy — the most 
 attractive of all the boys. He believed in the 
 
 [42] 
 
^doctrine that a virtuous exterior hides a multi- 
 tude of sins, and so he was known as a model 
 young man. He claimed to be interested in the 
 reform of humanity, and to all appearances did 
 much for his erring brethren, but he was in 
 more need of reform than many of those he 
 claimed to help. However, the signs of the 
 times demands a good appearance, regardless 
 of interior vice or virtue. 
 
 The daughters were Pleasure and Frivolity, 
 both exact counterparts of their mother, Laxity. 
 Pleasure was like many of her fellow creatures, 
 interested in the material joys of the world, 
 with never a thought of the higher life. She 
 was young, handsome and talented, and there- 
 fore saw no necessity of doing or seeking any- 
 thing serious. Her parents idolized her and 
 gave her every joy which money could buy, 
 many of which were positively harmful. 
 
 Frivolity, the youngest daughter, was the pet 
 of the family, and was very much like her 
 sister, with the one exception, that she would 
 not even give herself the trouble to seek the 
 greatest joys. She took everything as a matter 
 of course. She was an ardent admirer of the 
 shallow literature and drama of her day, and 
 in short sought every idle fancy and senseless 
 diversion which came her way. The newest 
 
 [43] 
 
fads in styles, art, and recreation were her chief 
 considerations. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Such was the family in which our hero had 
 been placed. These worldlings were to mould 
 his character and teach him the real purpose 
 and aim of life. Later that night, Talent had a 
 long talk with his uncle about their plans for 
 the future. 
 
 "Why did you bring that bore, Conscience 
 with you?" asked his uncle. "He will not be 
 able to help you here in the city." 
 
 "He has always been a faithful companion 
 to me and our family," replied Talent, "besides 
 our good parish priest, Wisdom, advised me to 
 be sure and have him near me at all times." 
 
 "Those priests have such old-fashioned ideas,'' 
 answered his uncle. "I have learned to dis- 
 regard their stupid admonitions, and I am sure 
 you will in time do the same. You will soon 
 grow tired of having Conscience tag after you 
 all over the city. Tomorrow I shall take you 
 down to my office and introduce you to my 
 friends and co-workers whom you will like, 
 I am sure. You wili then be ready to start your 
 literary work, in which I am certain you will 
 make great progress, for I have heard much 
 about your skill at school. You know it is my 
 
 [44] 
 
purpose to have you write stories for my maga- 
 zine, which is called "The Cosmopolite." It is 
 read by the majority of people in the whole coun- 
 try. It is really the magazine of the masses. It 
 gives the people just what they want. As soon 
 as you become accustomed to your new sur- 
 roundings and have seen something of this great 
 city of ours, I shall expect you to write a num- 
 ber of short stories for this magazine. I want 
 something that you can call real Art. I know 
 that after you have seen some of my work, you 
 will understand just what I want. 
 
 "Now your ideals may be just a trifle too 
 lofty for our work, for you know nowadays 
 people have no love for sermons, morality 
 stories, and the like. You must conform to 
 popular taste, but I know you will understand 
 better when you have visited my office." 
 
 "By the way here is a copy of one of my late 
 books, it is a best seller, and created quite a 
 commotion when it first came out. The people 
 fairly went wild about it. I will leave it here for 
 you to read at your leisure." So saying the uncle 
 left Talent and hurried off to his business. 
 
 Talent looked at the book which his uncle 
 had written. It was a trashy, salacious sex 
 problem story, just the kind the world accepts 
 with eagerness at the present time. Talent was 
 
 [45] 
 
dumbfounded. He could not believe his eyes. 
 
 "Is this what my uncle writes ?" he said to 
 himself. "Is this art? And am I to devote my 
 time and talents to the production of such 
 filth?" 
 
 "God forbid," answered the ever watchful 
 Conscience who remained near his master. 
 
 "If this is what the people want," exclaimed 
 Talent, "then I fear I can never become a pop- 
 ular writer." However, he determined not to 
 judge too hastily. He would wait to see what 
 the morrow would bring. 
 
 That night, before Talent retired to rest in the 
 elaborately furnished room in his uncle's home, 
 he took out the little silver chest, and gazed 
 long and tenderly at the . photographs of his 
 parents. Surely, he thought, they would not 
 wish him to become a disseminator of such trash 
 which his uncle had written, and called Art. 
 Surely too the good priest who had given him 
 his final blessing would never sanction such 
 work. 
 
 He brought forth the motto which his parents 
 had given him and read: 
 
 & j 
 
 "To thine own self be true 
 
 And it must follow as the night the day, 
 
 Thou canst not then be false to any man." 
 
 [46] 
 
He was to be sorely tried during the ensuing 
 weeks but he meant to be faithful to this motto 
 at any cost, and to keep near him at all times, 
 the ever-watchful friend, Conscience. Surely 
 these would keep him in the path of righteous- 
 ness. 
 
 And you and I and all of us have been sorely 
 tried in Temptation City, and the same allure- 
 ments, which were placed before Talent, were 
 also placed before us. If we have been wise, 
 we have also kept near at hand the ever-watch- 
 ful Conscience, to guide us to the right. 
 * * * 
 
 The next morning found our hero, Talent, in 
 his uncle's commodious appartments downtown, 
 where his several co-workers labored to pro- 
 duce novels, short stories, plays and all kinds 
 of literary trash for the "people who wanted 
 that kind." Talent was then introduced to the 
 men who helped his uncle. I shall describe them 
 as follows: 
 
 First came Materialism, the novelist and 
 short story writer who like the Age gave the 
 public the seamy, unreal, suggestive and sen- 
 sational fiction which it eagerly devoured. He 
 said: 
 
 "I do not believe in any particular religion, 
 nor in a God in the sense in which you under- 
 
 [47] 
 
stand Him. I believe that everyone is his own 
 God and his own religion. Man is placed on 
 this earth (how — I do not know, nor do I care), 
 to get as much joy out of life as he can, and 
 after death, comes annihilation. I write stories 
 that please the people, and in return they give 
 me money which brings pleasure to me." 
 
 "Art is what the people make it and the crav- 
 ing for my kind of literature is increasing, so 
 I shall continue to give it to them. Here are 
 some of my latest works." And the Spirit of 
 Materialism presented to the disgusted Talent 
 several of his books, all on the same order, all 
 of them advocating free love, divorce, double 
 morality, pleasure cult, birth control, and dozens 
 of other equally pernicious doctrines, poisonous 
 opiates for society. 
 
 Next came Irreligion, a friend and companion 
 of Materialism, who at one time had been a 
 good, pure young man like our hero; but he had 
 left home early in life, attended schools where 
 the name of God and the least mention of re- 
 ligion had been carefully omitted. He now be- 
 lieved in nothing but the present life, and deter- 
 mined to get as much pleasure out of his pre- 
 sent existence as possible. He was the head 
 short story writer of the Cosmopolite maga- 
 zine, the great fiction publication which had 
 
 [48] 
 
millions of subscribers on its list. Irreligion 
 demonstrated his ability in the realm of fiction 
 by presenting to the shocked gaze of our hero 
 a dozen or more of his masterpieces. They 
 were "spicy stories, full of ginger," he told 
 Talent. They were read by young and old, in 
 crowded restaurants, on trains, at home. Young 
 men and women read them while riding to and 
 from their work, society ladies read them during 
 their relaxation periods between social func- 
 tions, college students read them behind locked 
 doors. In short they were for the masses. 
 
 These masterpieces, which Irreligion had pro- 
 duced for the big magazine, were on the same 
 order as all the other publications of the Age 
 and were samples of the work he wished Talent 
 to produce, as soon as the latter had learned 
 to conform his lofty ideals to modern times. 
 They covered a variety of subjects, but were 
 for the most part adventure stories about some 
 "misfit in society" in his or her downward 
 course to moral decay and destruction. They 
 were extremely suggestive or openly immoral, 
 accompanied usually by fitting illustrations, 
 which made the story of sin and vice all the 
 more vivid and attractive. This same gifted 
 writer also told Talent that the abominable 
 divorce scandals and questionable escapades of 
 
 [49] 
 
notorious women, which were so realistically 
 described in the feature sections of the Sunday 
 papers were also products of his facile pen. 
 
 "This is the age of the short story," explained 
 Irreligion as he gazed at his productions and 
 fondly fingered them over. "People in the world 
 today are too busy for long novels, they want 
 short stories with 'go' in them, and plenty of 
 'kick'. If they do read long novels they want 
 them in serial form and thus you see the great 
 possibilities for the magazine of fiction. People 
 have no time for serious thoughts, they care 
 not for religion, philosophy, science, travel, or 
 any kind of heavy reading. This is the age of 
 pleasure and frivolity, and you will have to con- 
 form to their way of thinking if you ever ex- 
 pect to become a successful writer." 
 
 Talent could hardly believe his eyes and ears. 
 He could not understand the meaning of this 
 false idea of Art, nor the materialistic concep- 
 tion of the world, and life as presented by these 
 two exponents of the literary world. To Talent, 
 Art had always been something sacred, some- 
 thing with which to express man's higher mo- 
 tives and ambitions, and the ideals of the soul, 
 and now in his uncle's studio he found men 
 who actually termed themselves artists, literary 
 men, who did not believe in a God, who cared 
 
 [50] 
 
nothing for morality, who misunderstood Art, 
 and transformed her into a hideous spectre, un- 
 recognizable, for their own selfish interests. 
 Talent was dumbfounded, but he was to see 
 even more. 
 
 The next man to be introduced to our hero 
 was Atheism, who though in most respects was 
 like the other gentlemen just described, yet in 
 this particular, was different — that he openly 
 denied the existence of God, and dared to give 
 the public, stories and plays, brim full of God- 
 less love, Godless adventure and Godless activi- 
 ties of all kinds, and even ridiculed those who 
 did profess any religion. 
 
 He showed Talent some of his latest plays, 
 a travesty on Christ, crucified, and a stinging 
 satire on the Christian martyrs, a farce built 
 around some fundamental doctrine of God's 
 Church. 
 
 "These will be the 'hit' of the season, they 
 will take the people off their feet. — Nowadays, 
 you know, no one takes these things seriously, 
 no one takes the Bible for anything more than 
 a highly colored piece of fiction. Why not give 
 the public a lively play based on one of these 
 themes ? 
 
 Talent felt that he was now prepared for 
 anything. He would never have believed that 
 
 [51] 
 
in this wonderful city he would find anyone 
 who would boldly assert that the Bible was 
 merely a piece of fiction, or that Christ was 
 not God. He was amazed and bitterly disap- 
 pointed at the discovery. He determined that 
 if things kept on in this way he would soon 
 leave the city and give up his ambitious to dis- 
 cover Art, rather than sacrifice his faith, his re- 
 ligion and morality in such a place. 
 
 Now there came another co-worker of the 
 Age, one whom I have called Realism. He acted 
 as illustrator for the literary men. He drew 
 the very suitable pictures for their "shady" 
 stories. Not only this, but the flashy covers of 
 of the various magazines, the would-be comic 
 supplement of the Sunday paper, as well as the 
 gaudy and impure poster, art-panels, post-cards 
 and the like, which the Age disposed of at a very 
 low price, were all productions of this pervert. 
 
 "I will show you some of my work," he said 
 as he opened his portfolio of sketches. They 
 were for the most part immodest, meaningless 
 as to theme, shallow attempts to interest the peo- 
 ple in a kind of art all its own. 
 
 "You see," he explained to Talent, "People are 
 not seriously inclined anymore. They want 
 things represented in art as they really are. If 
 I am to represent man as he really is, I must 
 
 [52] 
 
make my pictures portray him as the idle, frivol- 
 ous, fickle and often sensual thing which in 
 reality he is. I must picture the real, human 
 side of life, you know." 
 
 Talent was learning to put a just estimate on 
 the artistic activities of the Age, and his com- 
 pany. He was yet to see how the grand gift of 
 song could be misused and wrongly applied by 
 these base imitators. 
 
 "I am Ragtime," said another of the artists in 
 the studio of the Age. "I am the official pro- 
 ducer of the famous musical shows you have 
 heard so much about. I have had wonderful suc- 
 cess with my 'Jollies' a series of daring musical 
 comedies, which very much delight the people at 
 the present time. There is not much to my pro- 
 ductions to recommend them, but you know 
 people don't want anything heavy nowadays." 
 And Ragtime winked significantly. 
 
 Talent looked through the portfolios of Rag- 
 time to see the nature of the entertainment he 
 was giving the public. The plays were veritable 
 riots of suggestive, syncopated music, interwoven 
 with a liberal supply of jokes with a "kick," 
 whose personnel was made up of plenty of pretty 
 girls, possessing neither talent or ability, but 
 able, by their daring costumes and suggestive 
 poses, to interest and amuse the people of Temp- 
 
 [53] 
 
tation City. Ragtime was also the producer of 
 many acts for the vaudeville circuits, and these 
 were no better morally and artistically than the 
 longer shows. All were debasing and demoral- 
 izing, and baneful above all to the young people 
 of both sexes who attended their presentation. 
 
 Talent saw that the songs and repartee of 
 these programs were salacious, vicious and 
 abounding in double meanings and constant hits 
 at things utterly disgusting to a normal mind. 
 Ragtime told our hero that many of the per- 
 formances were intended for presentation at the 
 various roof gardens of the city where "wine, 
 woman and song," formed the keynote of the 
 festivity. In these shows, Talent was niade to 
 understand that the chorus was as undressed as 
 the law would allow. Situations and dance for- 
 mations, which would have been disgraceful in 
 the jungle, the inspiration of which came from 
 the underworld, were staged with attractive and 
 alluring lights and settings, so that the half in- 
 toxicated revellers might feast unto satiety upon 
 this carnival of flesh. 
 
 "But," remonstrated Talent, "surely this is not 
 Art. This is something base and degrading and 
 Art is something beautiful and inspiring." 
 
 "You must think we are arranging entertain- 
 ment for a crowd of Quakers," answered Rag- 
 
 [54] 
 
time, "I tell you this is the spirit of the times. 
 The people want it, and they are willing to pay 
 for it. Every hundred years we produce a strict- 
 ly moral play, at a great financial loss, just to 
 show people we want to do the right thing. For 
 the rest, all we can say, is that the people are 
 ones who dictate the quality of our shows." 
 
 Talent was utterly disgusted and wished to 
 hurry away, but his Uncle stopped him and said: 
 
 "Before you go, I should like to have you meet 
 the lady who composes the pretty poems of pas- 
 sion, and the free verse which are so popular in 
 the world today. She will collaborate with you 
 in the production of the periodical I spoke about 
 before." 
 
 And the Age brought forth Suggestivism, who 
 read for Talent one of her latest compositions. 
 It was, as could be expected, the product of a dis- 
 eased mind ,one given to feeding itself on in- 
 artistic trash, and immoral filth. She also read 
 to Talent a specimen of free verse, which the 
 society women were studying with a vim at this 
 time. It was irregular, nonsensical ,obscure as 
 to meaning — but it was all the rage — which 
 covered a multitude of faults. 
 
 All during these scenes, the ever-watchful Con- 
 science had remained close to Talent, and ever 
 and anon did he whisper a warning into his 
 master's ear. Finally Talent said to the Age: 
 
 [55] 
 
"Oh Uncle, let us go; all this is distasteful to 
 me. I can never devote my talents to such work. 
 My God! Is this the expression of man's soul? 
 If this is indeed Art, then I hope sincerely that 
 I shall never be able to write a play or a novel. 
 It is the saddest disappointment of my young 
 life to see such a state of affairs, when I expected 
 the very opposite. My dream has been shattered. 
 Let us go!" 
 
 "You will soon change your mind, my child," 
 answered the uncle. Why try to hold out against 
 the common consent of mankind? They want 
 this sort of thing, and we must give it to them. 
 You cannot afford to be a prude. You must con- 
 form to the tastes of society." 
 
 "Uncle, you seem to forget, that man is the 
 image of his Maker, and that in order to paint 
 man as he really is, you must not neglect to por- 
 tray the spiritual side of him. Even though man 
 has many weaknesses and faults, he is still the 
 image of the Maker, the temple of the Holy 
 Spirit. Art should be expression of all that lofty 
 and sublime and noble in man, and that side of 
 him you omit entirely. You claim to know life, 
 yet when you paint it, you omit the lights, and 
 show only the shadows. 
 
 "After you have seen more of the world you 
 will change your ideas," retorted the Age, as he 
 
 [56] 
 
hurried away. Talent hastened away from the 
 studio of the Age, and went to his room, where 
 once more he sought his precious chest, Memory, 
 and read and reread the motto: "To thine own 
 self be true." 
 
 Our hero's initiation into the sanctum of mod- 
 ernized Art and its demands, was not especially 
 gratifying to himself nor to his uncle. The lat- 
 ter felt sure, however, that this conservatism of 
 his nephew, was only the result of his "untra- 
 esthetic training," as he styled it, and would in 
 time wear off. 
 
 "I don't believe the young man has seen the 
 world yet, or its pleasures and lights and joys. 
 No wonder he talks like a Puritan," was the 
 comment of the Age to his wife the following 
 morning. "I shall have some of our children 
 take him out and interest him in the wonders of 
 our city. Surely he cannot fail to be moved by 
 the pleasures of the times. If he would only rid 
 himself of that pest, Conscience, who seems to 
 cling to him always, then there might be some 
 hope. That bore keeps near him and preaches 
 morality at every turn." 
 
 The Age took pains to leave the last copy of 
 his trashy magazine in a conspicuous place in 
 Talent's room. The uncle felt sure that Talent 
 could write a fine story or article, for he heard 
 
 [57] 
 
much about his ability in school. The main 
 thing now, he felt was to alter the lad's taste 
 and make Talent devote his gifts to the interests 
 of the Age; sacrifice his rare gifts to promote 
 the cause of Irreligion, Greed and Immorality. 
 
 And you and I, and all of us, if we have gifts 
 of mind and soul, may feel tempted to prostitute 
 them before the shrines of this Age; and unless 
 we also have a chest, called Memory, to remind 
 us of the high hopes and expectations of our 
 parents and teachers; unless we have also taken 
 as our motto a noble and inspiring thought such 
 as "To thine own self be true," we may suc- 
 cumb to this temptation. 
 
 But because Talent had kept Conscience near 
 him; because he remembered what his parents 
 and teachers expected of him; because of his 
 motto, "To thine own self be true," he did re- 
 main faithful to the inspiration of true Art. 
 
 TEMPORA! MORES! 
 
 [58] 
 
THE SPIRIT OF SELF 
 
THE SPIRIT OF SELF 
 
 "Life is all void, 
 On selfish thoughts alone employed." 
 
 — Jane Taylor. 
 
 Know that the love of thyself is more hurtful to thee 
 than anything else in the world. 
 
 — Thomas a' Kempis. 
 
 Talent was shocked at the attitude his uncle 
 had taken on questions of literature and art. 
 His own taste for the sublime and the good, 
 had been cultivated with watchful care by the 
 good professors at Excelsior College, and be- 
 fore that by his conscientious parents. His 
 faith taught him that man is the image of the 
 Maker, and that since Art is the expression of 
 the soul, it must under no circumstances con- 
 tain anything contrary to the highest aspirations 
 of the soul; it must be a yearning for the 
 Divine; it must be an attempt to express as 
 far as possible the goodness and beauty of a 
 most perfect God, who contains in Himself all 
 perfections in the highest degree. 
 
 Our hero felt that the city, which demanded 
 the prostitution of Art to suit the demands of 
 a perverted race, must be essentially bad. 
 
 [61] 
 
However he would not judge too rashly. He 
 would see more of it before condemning it. 
 Perhaps the little territory around his uncle's 
 studio was bad and the rest was good. He 
 would see. 
 
 When therefore the Spirit of Self, the eldest 
 son of the Age came into the room and invited 
 Talent to go out with him, the youth accepted 
 the invitation with alacrity. This would give 
 him an opportunity to see more of the wonder- 
 ful city, and to judge its aspirations and 
 ambitions. Perhaps he would yet discover 
 some good qualities which would far surpass 
 the evil ones he had seen in his travels on the 
 preceding day. The Spirit of Self as the name 
 implies was the personification of Pride. He 
 imagined he was the greatest individual on 
 earth. He alone deserved riches, honor, glory 
 and fame. His ambition knew no bounds. He 
 determined to excell all others, with the limited 
 supply of gifts Nature had bestowed on him, 
 and he was prepared to use any means, fair 
 or foul to attain this goal, even to the extent 
 of crushing out all possible competitors. This 
 was the man who was to help mould the 
 character of our good youth, Talent. He was 
 to display to Talent the practical side of life. 
 
 [62] 
 
He made his appeal to Talent as he makes it 
 to every one, even to you and me. 
 
 They left the house and proceeded at once 
 to the home of a lady friend, whom I shall 
 call Attractiveness. She was a very beautiful 
 young lady and was very popular among the 
 dozen or more suitors for her hand, among 
 whom was Self. The father of the girl was 
 called Power and such indeed he was in the 
 business world. Self was anxious to come into 
 the latter's good graces for he knew that the 
 great man could help him materially in 
 business. 
 
 After the introductions Self left Talent very 
 much to himself according to the manner of 
 all selfish people. He continued his campaign 
 to win the hand of the fair lady, and incident- 
 ally took pains to become better acquainted with 
 the father. 
 
 Talent observed everything — the lack of true 
 hospitality in society, its shams, fickleness and 
 hypocritical inner workings. The spirit of 
 selfishness was displayed by everyone but most 
 especially by his cousin. At table Self con- 
 tinued his attentions to the people in power, 
 but his actions though veiled with the mantle 
 of kindness and chivalry would have been 
 known through the eye of Wisdom as the selfish 
 
 [63] 
 
desires of an ambitious worldling eager for 
 fame and gain. He did not really love Attract- 
 iveness but he loved Power and was seeking 
 the latter through the former. 
 
 Later on Talent was taken to Self's place of 
 business. There the latter displayed the same 
 ambitious designs as in society. Always fearful 
 that his competitors would sell more goods or 
 succeed more rapidly than himself, he left 
 nothing undone to urge ahead. Frequently his 
 business because its very nature was inferior to 
 those of the others and Self would then display 
 himself in his true colors; he would use under- 
 hand methods, deceive innocent customers, 
 crush out smaller and weaker competitors, and, 
 in a dozen ways known only to people of this 
 class, he sought to acquire the business which 
 he could not obtain in an honest way. And 
 why was all this done? To promote the inter- 
 est of the Ego at any cost. 
 
 Talent was not pleased with the sentiments and 
 ambitions of his cousin and he took the first 
 opportunity to tell him so. The latter was not 
 thankful for the criticism, and tried to justify 
 his attitude, for Selfishness and Pride, hate criti- 
 cism, even when well-merited. They cannot bear 
 to be rebuked. 
 
 "I am no different than my fellow-men," he 
 
 [64] 
 
said, "they take every precaution to provide for 
 themselves, and most of them would sacrifice 
 anything to attain their ends. 'Every body for 
 himself is my motto. But I was not always as 
 you see me now. I am as you know the eldest 
 child of worldly, selfish parents, who because of 
 their own quest for wealth and honor left me 
 entirely to myself. I had plenty of money and 
 so I soon learned to shift for myself without the 
 beneficial home influence or fatherly advice or 
 motherly love I should have had. I learned to 
 seek my own amusements and arrange my own 
 business matters. I became isolated more or 
 less from the rest of society, except in affairs of 
 business. Thus I was thrust into a heartless 
 city, full of men who cared nothing for each 
 other, whose ail-absorbing thought and hope was 
 to further their own interests. I soon learned 
 to grow like them, I felt it was their existence 
 or mine, and I became so much engrossed with 
 ways and means of advancement that every other 
 sentiment was crowded out. I became the man 
 of steel and hardened my heart to all emotion. 
 The cry of the babe in distress was lost upon me. 
 The weak and the homeless and the unfortunate 
 became objects of ridicule. This has been my 
 philosophy of life, so that now, even Love means 
 nothing to me. Beauty, art, knowledge, amuse- 
 
 [65] 
 
ment have no significance except as a means of 
 acquiring more power so as to surpass another 
 rival." 
 
 "I rose," continued Self, "to the position I 
 have by mere nerve, iron will and personality, 
 I guess you call it. I entered business and suc- 
 ceeded in crowding out all competitors. I enter- 
 ed the social life and because I could talk well 
 and play the part, combined of course with the 
 money I had at my command, I was received 
 with open arms. Again I defeated my rivals on 
 every side." 
 
 "My ambition now is to marry the fair lady 
 in the mansion on the hill, not because I love 
 her, but because of the wealth and social prom- 
 inence I will thereby acquire. Then one day I 
 shall stand at the 'top of the ladder' and shall 
 take the greatest delight in looking down with 
 scornful eye upon the many men I have left 
 behind, upon my former class-mates, business 
 partners, friends and even upon some of the 
 failures in my own family. It will cause me 
 exquisite satisfaction to know that I have sur- 
 passed every rival in the business world and in 
 society. I could never bear to be beneath any- 
 one, even one who had acquired his power hon- 
 estly." 
 
 "But, my cousin," said Talent after a pause 
 
 [66] 
 
during which he reflected on the detestable 
 philosophy of his ambitious relative, "do you 
 not know that all men are brethren in Christ, 
 and that they should love one another, as he 
 loves all men? Have you never heard of the 
 virtues of humility, meekness, self-sacrifice and 
 fraternal charity?" 
 
 "I know only what my parents have taught 
 me. They dismissed Conscience from our house- 
 hold long ago. All men brethren? NEVER! 
 Every man is his own provider; charity begins 
 at home; every man is a power in himself and 
 for himself. The survival of the fittest is the 
 law which governs everything in life. If I do 
 not crush my next door neighbor he will crush 
 me, so you see it is the law of Self which should 
 control all our actions." 
 
 "But it is wrong, all wrong," answered Talent 
 who was fast losing confidence in human nature 
 as he found it in that city. Your reasoning is 
 false, two wrongs never made a right. 'Do unto 
 others as you would like to have them do unto 
 you' still prevails whether some violate it or 
 not." 
 
 "Well perhaps it is not exactly right," res- 
 ponded Self, "but they all do it, so why not I? 
 It is the spirit of the times." 
 
 Talent wondered if he could ever become 
 
 [67] 
 
; 
 
 such a selfish person. He saw the cause and 
 the effect of the Spirit of Ego. He understood 
 what an effect this tendency would and did 
 have on the art and literature of the day. He 
 was disgusted with all he had seen and in fact 
 with every new phase of life in the city, which 
 was shown to him. He began to think that 
 perhaps he would never be satisfied with the 
 city of Temptation. He was in the "heart of the 
 city, that had no heart," and he longed for the 
 sociability, the frankness and loyalty of the 
 simple people who made their home in the 
 village of Tranquility. There the simple folk 
 were contented with the things God had given 
 them. They were not ambitious to crush each 
 other out of existence in order to advance them- 
 selves. 
 
 Talent knew positively that he could not em- 
 brace the doctrines he had thus far seen, nor 
 would his parents ever consent to the prospect 
 of taking up a habitation in this whirlpool of 
 life and pleasure, and becoming one of the 
 worldlings who made up its population. 
 
 His motto, "To thine own self be true" pointed 
 in the opposite direction, away from the Spirit 
 of the Age, away from Selfishness, and Ambi- 
 tion and Jealousy. It pointed to Truth never 
 varying, always unchangeable, to Beauty, never 
 
 [68] 
 
fading, always inspiring, and to Goodness, never 
 dissembling, always recognizable. 
 
 "I HAVE SEEN THE WICKED HIGHLY 
 
 EXALTED AND LIFTED UP LIKE THE 
 
 CEDARS OF LIBANUS." 
 
 (Psalms) 
 
 "HE THAT SHALL HUMBLE HIMSELF 
 
 SHALL BE EXALTED." 
 
 (Matt. 23:12) 
 
 L69J 
 
THE SPIRIT OF FRIVOLITY 
 
THE SPIRIT OF FRIVOLITY 
 
 "0 Vanity of Vanities, and all is Vanity." 
 
 — Scripture. 
 
 It is vanity to mind only this present life, and not to 
 look fonuard into those things which are to come. 
 
 — Thomas a' Kempis. 
 
 The morning after the interview with Self, 
 Talent came to breakfast looking very wretched. 
 He had passed a sleepless night trying to solve 
 the question of his life work, and his place in 
 the world. But the morning had come and still 
 the question was unsolved. He was determined 
 not to sacrifice his literary gifts to the spirit 
 of the Age nor to adopt the detestable doctrine 
 of Self, yet what was he to do? If he wished 
 to make creative art a profession in the city 
 he would be compelled to "do as the rest did," 
 so his uncle had informed him. 
 
 "Talent, you look worried," exclaimed his 
 aunt, Laxity, at the breakfast table. "You ap- 
 pear troubled about something. Do not distress 
 yourself in this way. Why worry about such 
 trifles?" She had heard of Talent's mental 
 struggle from her husband, and to her, of 
 course, such troubles were trifles. 
 
 [73] 
 
"You must amuse yourself," she added, "you 
 know you live but once and you must make 
 your life worth while. I will send cousin 
 Frivolity down to entertain you — she is such 
 a happy, care-free child, I am sure you will 
 enjoy her company. She can teach you how to 
 cultivate the spirit of optimism which she 
 possesses. She never gets serious or worries 
 about anything. This will prove a pleasant re- 
 laxation for you and may give you an inspira- 
 tion for your future literary work." 
 
 And Frivolity came to Talent, as she comes 
 sooner or later into each one's life, even into 
 yours and mine. She was the typical daughter 
 of her idle and worldly mother, Laxity, a care- 
 less lass who cared for nothing besides pretty 
 clothes, plenty of idle companions and good 
 times. She was dressed in the height of fashion, 
 her hair arranged in the latest mode, and her 
 face though naturally pretty, artificially "made 
 up" with the most modern greasy trimmings of 
 a French chemist. 
 
 She had been away for a number of years 
 attending an exclusive finishing school, where 
 the routine of studies was very often interrupted 
 by parties, dances, balls and the like, which 
 naturally brought spells of indisposition and 
 melancholy the day after. When the effects of 
 
 [74] 
 
one celebration had worn off, preparations for 
 the next one were begun. As a result of its 
 excellence socially, the school did not amount to 
 much from a practical standpoint. Frivolity 
 knew absolutely nothing about housekeeping, 
 even the very rudiments of this most valuable 
 science were unintelligible, and positively dis- 
 tasteful to her. She was a fine specimen of the 
 buttter-fly or "flapper" type, and such she was 
 likely to remain. 
 
 When she came into the room she carried 
 a copy of her father's magazine in which she 
 had marked a story for future perusal. It was 
 called "The Auto Elopment," just the story for 
 one of her type, for as the title intimated, the 
 story pictured the adventures of a young couple, 
 frivolous in the extreme, embarking into a new 
 life, entering a union which should have been 
 for life, with no more thought than if they were 
 going to one of their dancing parties. Other 
 items in the magazine, which interested Frivol- 
 ity, were poems of passions by the popular 
 poetess of the season, together with some spec- 
 imen of free verse, a few illustrations drawn by 
 futurist artists and intimate studies of the 
 scandals of "movie-land." 
 
 "I think this world is a lovely place, don't 
 you;" Frivolity said to her cousin, "that is, the 
 
 [75] 
 
city, I mean. I don't think I would like the 
 country. It must be terribly lonesome out 
 where you live. I think I would die there." 
 
 Talent hastily informed her that many young 
 ladies like herself managed to live happily in 
 the quiet village of Tranquility without being 
 in extraordinary danger of sudden death. 
 
 "I certainly enjoy life," she continued, "why 
 don't you go out more? No wonder you get the 
 blues. You ought to have a good time while 
 you can, and not sit in the house and write 
 literature all day long." Here the little maid 
 opened a box of bon bons which were indicative 
 of her character. 
 
 "I feel," said Talent, "that I have a higher 
 mission on earth than merely to enjoy life. 
 Everybody is placed on this earth for a purpose 
 and every one has some duty to perform; if 
 then men and women go on enjoying life all 
 the time, how is the work to.be accomplished? 
 
 "Always moralizing, aren't you?" answered 
 the girl. "I believe in settling down some time 
 but there is a liberal supply of serious people 
 in this world as it is. I am young and I wish 
 to enjoy things. One can settle down and get 
 serious when one gets old." 
 
 Just then the delivery boy came and brought 
 some new dresses for Frivolity, and she used 
 
 [76] 
 
 I 
 
 ; 
 
up the rest of the morning in examining and 
 admiring them. They were called the latest 
 creations from a foreign country. They were 
 not beautiful nor were they modest but they 
 were stylish, which sufficed for Frivolity. 
 
 That afternoon she went to the matinee to see 
 one of her father's dramatized novels, called 
 "Millions to Burn." It represented a young wo- 
 man, who had suddenly become an heiress, in 
 the delightful and interesting occupation of 
 spending money. Frivolity enjoyed the play 
 immensely and spoke of it for weeks. After 
 the matinee she partook of a dainty luncheon at 
 an expensive tea room, after which she departed 
 for home, feeling thoroughly satisfied with her- 
 self. This was merely one of many days, and 
 was a fair example of her usual occupations. 
 
 The next morning she allowed Talent to es- 
 cort her to a friend's house, where our hero 
 saw many young ladies which might have borne 
 the name Frivolity. And flippant young men 
 were also present, who neither toiled nor did 
 aught for humanity, but spent their strength 
 and substance seeking light and frothy amuse- 
 ment. They might have borne the name Sloth. 
 The whole function was a conglomeration of 
 fashion, fickleness and feasting to the tune of 
 
 [77] 
 
dreamy music with a company of idle parasites 
 to enjoy it all. 
 
 Occasionally during the course of the cele- 
 bration, the latest atrocity in music, which the 
 young people termed "Jazz" could be heard, 
 and the guests would respond by dancing with 
 unnatural and ungraceful movements as only 
 such music could inspire. 
 
 Talent saw nothing of true art in the music 
 or the dancing and was indeed glad when the 
 time came to go, for he experienced the same 
 feeling that a grown man would feel if given 
 blocks to play with. He was young, it is true, 
 but the idle prattle, the silly giggling, the ab- 
 surdity and emptiness of Society's methods of 
 entertaining itself were too ridiculous to interest 
 him. He felt that man's time is too valuable 
 for amusement of this kind, even once in a 
 while; but to make this type of entertainment 
 the very essence of one's life and activities is 
 the height of folly. 
 
 Thus the life of Frivolity was one round of 
 joy after the other, with never a serious 
 thought, never a rebuke or bit of kindly advice 
 from her parents. 
 
 Her mother, Laxity, said, "O, she is young, 
 let her enjoy herself. There is no danger, 
 society has its own code of morals and my 
 
 [78] 
 
daughter could never do any wrong. She has 
 had such a good training. Her amusements are 
 most innocent." 
 
 Besides the mother was so busy with her 
 bridge parties, Suffrage, Eugenics and General 
 Betterment clubs that she had no time for her 
 own daughter's affairs. That very night she 
 was to read a paper on "How to Train Chil- 
 dren," yet she could not train her own. She 
 pretended to know how to run the government 
 and yet she could not properly manage her own 
 family. She could lecture for hours on 
 Betterment work, yet she had never lectured to 
 her daughters on any principle calculated to 
 benefit them morally. And there were many 
 mothers like Laxity in Temptation City. For 
 the most part they preferred poodle dogs to 
 babies, but even when they accepted children 
 from the hand of the Creator they were little 
 concerned with the condition of mind and soul 
 such children would be in, when the Creator 
 demanded them back. 
 
 The father, Age, said, "They are all having 
 a good time and I want my daughter to keep 
 up with the times; she must not allow the other 
 girls to surpass her in anything. I will give her 
 all that money can buy." Besides he was so 
 busy turning out new novels and plays that he 
 
 [79] 
 
had no time for his own children. He wrote 
 stories about the evils of society, the lack of 
 proper home influence, and did not see that in 
 his own home conditions were as bad as any- 
 where in the world. 
 
 He claimed to teach a great moral lesson by 
 his books and magazine articles but he had 
 never taken the trouble to teach his sons even 
 one moral lesson by word or example. 
 
 "Money is made to spend," said Frivolity to 
 her father as she handed him the bill for a new 
 automobile. "We must not allow the others in 
 our set to excell us." 
 
 Talent began to see that the city had many 
 sides that he had not dreamed of before. He 
 clearly saw the futility of his cousin's aimless 
 existence, yet it was true, they all did it, and he 
 wondered what would become of the world if 
 there were no serious people left. He could not, 
 he thought, ever ask such a being to become his 
 wife. 
 
 "You never see the serious side of life, 1 
 notice," said Talent to his cousin. "If you never 
 do anything worth while, how can you expect to 
 make a success of life." 
 
 "Why I am a success," responded the damsel, 
 seeming to be surprised that anyone should even 
 question that fact. 
 
 [80] 
 
"But have you never thought of Death, that 
 grim visitor who will surely come to you some 
 day and demand that you give up all these 
 things that you love so dearly? Then the only 
 things worth while will be those which you now 
 despise." 
 
 "Oh," answered his fickle cousin, "I never 
 think of anything so dreadful. If 1 think of 
 Death I shall become melancholy and I want to 
 remain joyful and gay at all costs. Also I must 
 make use of my present opportunities before 
 Death comes." 
 
 "But do you not believe in the immortality of 
 the soul, in the existence of moral obligation?" 
 asked Talent in amazement. 
 
 "I am not sure whether I do or not," was the 
 answer, "that is something for philosophers and 
 scholars to fuss about. We were taught that 
 morality is regulated by public opinion. I am a 
 respected member of society. In the eyes of the 
 world I am good, so why go any deeper into the 
 matter? A person is either good or bad accord- 
 ing to his environment, education and station in 
 life. I have all these in a high degree combined 
 with plenty of money to keep me from want 
 all my life, so you see the chances are I shall 
 remain good." 
 
 "Of course I go to church once in a while; 
 
 [81] 
 
don't think I am as bad as some of my 
 friends." And this was true ,she did go to a 
 very fashionable church about once in two 
 months, whenever she wished to display a new 
 gown, or listen to a special musical programme. 
 Her religion served merely as a new type of 
 entertainment to be indulged in when the other 
 amusements grew tiresome. 
 
 "There is just one more question," said 
 Talent, "do you ever expect to marry? what 
 kind of wife do you think you will make with 
 such a view of life?" 
 
 "I shall never marry any one but a rich 
 man," she answered, "one who can afford all 
 the luxuries to which I have become ac- 
 customed. If after living with my husband I 
 find that I cannot agree with him I shall divorce 
 him. Some day I shall meet the man of my 
 dreams and I am sure we shall be very happy. 
 Now this is more serious talking than I have 
 done for some time so please don't introduce 
 the subject again." And the dear child reached 
 for her favorite fiction magazine, opened a box 
 of bon bons, and settled herself comfortably in 
 the easy chair to while away another hour. 
 
 Talent was stunned by this latest discovery. 
 Had all the world gone wrong, he wondered. 
 Were his high ideals and hopes to be thus 
 
 [82] 
 
rudely shattered? What should be done about 
 the future? How was he to proceed to reach 
 the goal he had set for himself? It was, he 
 knew, his aunt's desire that he eventually marry 
 one of the daughters, for she would have been 
 glad to claim the gifted youth as a son-in-law, 
 and the Age wished to make him a co-partner 
 in his business. 
 
 Perhaps he was wrong, perhaps his ideals 
 were too lofty for the present age. If every one 
 but himself adopted the teachings of the time 
 why should he set himself up against them? But 
 with this thought came the ever-haunting 
 memory of home and dear parents, and the 
 watchful companion, Conscience, told him that 
 the true and good could never be found in the 
 sphere in which Frivolity travelled. One who 
 cared more for idle amusements than for home 
 life, more for poodle dogs than for little chil- 
 dren, would never make a good life partner. 
 Their aspirations were essentially different. 
 Talent was sore distressed and again the Age 
 sought a new way to interest him. 
 
 [83] 
 
THE SPIRIT OF SENSUALITY 
 
THE SPIRIT OF SENSUALITY 
 
 Impurity is spread through the press and literature of 
 the day; it leers at us from the stage; it predominates 
 our paintings and statues; they call it Art and they lie, 
 they worship it as Art. What Idolatry! Men today are 
 sacrificing their honor and health, their peace and hope 
 of Heaven to the idol — Sensuality. — Bishop Stang. 
 
 "Our nephew is a prude," exclaimed the Age 
 to his wife a few days later, "he has been in 
 school so long and under the influence of that 
 old priest and his servant Conscience for such a 
 long time, that I fear he will eventually turn 
 reformer. He is altogether too 'moral' for this 
 generation. These 'goody-goody' artists never 
 last long and, as the world is constituted at the 
 present time, he is doomed to certain failure. 
 However I will not give up hope yet. He ought 
 to get into the heart of the city and see life. He 
 ought to see that there is really nothing wrong 
 there. He ought to taste the cup of life and see 
 that it is sweet." 
 
 And then came Sensuality, another son of the 
 age and Laxity, and said "Father, let me take 
 the young gentleman to my office and show him 
 my business, after which I will take him to see 
 
 [87] 
 
life in the big city. I will make him admit that | 
 this old city of ours is a very joyful place after i 
 all." 
 
 So it was arranged. Sensuality came to Talent 
 as he comes to everyone, even to you and me. 
 His ugliness was cleverly concealed and his base- 
 ness was made attractive. 
 
 Sensuality who acted as President and Gen- 
 eral Manager of the Impurity Publishing Com- 
 pany, escorted Talent to his richly furnished 
 office. Our hero felt that he was to be un- 
 usually tempted today and Conscience who fol- 
 lowed, warned him that today he would meet 
 with difficulties and trials which would be hard 
 to overcome. He was to be tempted in a differ- 
 ent manner today, in a way most alluring to 
 man ,in which the ugliness of vice was to be con- 
 cealed behind the cloak of pleasure. 
 
 The business, in which the cousin Sensuality 
 was engaged, the Impurity Publishing Co., made 
 a success of marketing books, pamphlets, pic- 
 tures, songs, etc., supposedly artistic, but in 
 reality immoral and degrading productions of a 
 host of workmen, whose diseased minds thought 
 of nothing but filth. The company's advertise- 
 ment appeared in every cheap flashy magazine, 
 and was answered by hundreds of people in 
 every walk of life, principally working people, 
 
 [88] 
 
young men and women, whose first ideas of 
 wickedness were often derived from this source, 
 and who gradually acquired a taste for such 
 trash. Country youths and maidens, who had 
 no means or opportunity to secure good read- 
 ing in abundance, were often led by these adver- 
 tisements to purchase from the Impurity Pub- 
 lishing firm, the "gems of literature" which that 
 company offered for such a nominal price. 
 
 When Talent arrived in the office of Sensual- 
 ity, he looked about him, and on the walls he 
 beheld pictures of every description, large and 
 small, cheap and expensive, with frames and 
 without; but all alike in one respect, that they 
 were all immoral productions of the company's 
 "artists." Some were merely suggestive and 
 needed a title beneath to reveal their true signi- 
 ficance. Others made no pretense of decency 
 and openly displayed their filth. All of them 
 claimed to be masterpieces of ultra-modern Art. 
 
 Talent was now taken through the plant, which 
 was very large, and which required many hun- 
 dred men to operate. In one department the 
 workmen were engaged in turning out thousands 
 of copies of the latest book on Sexology, which 
 as Sensuality explained, would be sold at such 
 a low price that every young man and woman, 
 no matter how poor, could afford to buy a copy. 
 
 [89] 
 
Others were busy on editions explaining the 
 White Slave Traffic, Birth Control, Eugenics and 
 scores of other subjects equally "beneficial to 
 society." Everything which catered to the base 
 passions of man was put into print, made into 
 books and scattered in all directions supposedly 
 to educate men but primarily to satisfy those 
 who loved immoral filth, and ultimately to bring 
 in money. 
 
 Talent shuddered as he thought of the harm 
 that was being done every day, by the dissemina- 
 tion of such salicious reading matter, especially 
 among the innocent youths and maidens of the 
 country, for these young people were the princi- 
 pal readers of this filth. 
 
 In still another section of this large publishing 
 house were men engaged in the production of 
 fancy postcards, photograph prints and the like, 
 all "bewitching poses" so the advertisements 
 said, but they were nothing else than low, de- 
 basing, impure pictures, which were to be sent 
 out into the wide world to carry on their diaboli- 
 cal work of perversion. 
 
 "My God!" exclaimed Talent, "has it come to 
 this ? Must I also turn my hand to these produc- 
 tions, and call them Art? Surely, if the world 
 has come to this there is no hope for the triumph 
 of real Art." 
 
 [90] 
 
Then Talent began to wonder whether after 
 all, he was not too old fashioned, whether his 
 lofty ideas of morality were not too strict for 
 this age. Perhaps, he thought, he must conform 
 at least in some degree to the present standard. 
 But Conscience assured him that morality is 
 ever the same and that truth never varies, that 
 the demoralization of Art could never bring any- 
 thing but evil, and Talent felt strengthened once 
 more. He felt that sooner than give up his 
 ideals and create such ignoble products, he would 
 be content never to write another line; rather 
 than produce such abominable literature he 
 would suffer himself to remain unhonored in 
 the hall of fame. 
 
 Sensuality now led the way into a popular 
 vaudeville house where a permormance was 
 about to take place. It was advertised as one of 
 the best shows that the local house had presented 
 in some time, and Sensuality was overjoyed at 
 the very thought of it, for he was sure it would 
 be something according to his own heart. While 
 waiting for the curtain to rise Talent was intro- 
 duced to several friends of his cousin who were 
 seated near by. Then followed a series of sug- 
 gestive and vulgar stories and jokes which these 
 young men told for each other's amusement, 
 much to the disgust of our hero. The laughter 
 
 [91] 
 
of the crowd became more uproarious as each 
 joke became more filthy. Finally the show be- 
 gan and much to the relief of Talent the jokes- 
 ters kept quiet and directed their attention to the 
 stage where they expected to find more material 
 for their already vast collection of smut. 
 
 "These shows formerly were too sublime for 
 us men of the world," informed Sensuality, "but 
 during the last few years, especially since Dad 
 has had much to do with the booking of shows, 
 they have been getting better and more lively all 
 the time. They have plenty of punch and kick 
 — take the audience right off their feet. That is 
 the kind I enjoy." And Sensuality settled back 
 in his seat and turned his attention to the stage 
 where he expected to see a spectacle which would 
 be just to his liking. 
 
 Meanwhile our hero could imagine what kind 
 of a show was coming, for his previous knowl- 
 edge of his cousin's character gave him an idea 
 of the kind of entertainment such a person would 
 naturally enjoy. 
 
 The performance had begun. It was a typical 
 vaudeville program consisting of a number of 
 acts, each lasting about fifteen minutes so that 
 the "hurry-up" pleasure seeker would not be 
 bored with anything extremely long. 
 
 One act consisted of a series of Oriental dances 
 
 [92] 
 
interpreted by a popular permormer whose dar- 
 ing license had paved the way for her success. 
 She had on only sufficient clothing to come 
 barely within the lines of the law against naked- 
 ness. Taken all in all it was an open exploita- 
 tion of womanhood to the degradation of youth 
 of both sexes. The audience was surprisingly 
 evenly divided between men and women and 
 these folks were for the most part under middle 
 age, many of them very young. 
 
 This particular dancing act had been pro- 
 hibited by the police in some of the other cities 
 in the country, but in Temptation City there were 
 no censors. Hence they believed in "liberty" and 
 according to the false logic of the Age, this 
 meant to publish or enact anything before the 
 public, no matter how debasing. 
 
 The Age did not believe in censorship. He had 
 often said, "a stage that promises to keep clean 
 and refined in a sense attributed to those words 
 by a respectable majority of any moment in 
 history, is a stage that must avoid the new, close 
 its doors to genius, deny the creative spirit and 
 league itself on principle with rigidity and 
 spiritual sloth." Therefore nothing in the way 
 of censorship was permitted in this city. 
 
 Next came a singing and talking act, replete 
 with the latest suggestive jokes, salacious re- 
 
 [93] 
 
partee, and smutty parodies on popular ragtime, 
 songs. All of these things were thoroughly en- 
 joyed by the gay young people who comprised 
 the audience. The applause was invariably 
 measured by the degree of smut in the song or 
 story. 
 
 The so-called head-liner of this pleasing per- 
 formance was a tabloid version of a filthy drama, 
 senseless as to the theme or purpose, but never- 
 theless effective because of its appeal to the sen- 
 sual. 
 
 After this came an exhibition of posing and 
 fancy diving and swimming by a group of scanti- 
 ly clad females, much to the enjoyment of the 
 audience. Following this aquatic demonstration, 
 there came a young man and girl who proceeded 
 to* execute some of the "late dance steps" in 
 typical jazz fashion with many of the added 
 twists and contortions, popular in the very low- 
 est dance halls. The entertainment reached the 
 height of perfection in this act, for the audience 
 were delighted and whistled and shouted for 
 more. 
 
 Talent, to whom the whole thing was disgust- 
 ing, made a move to depart, and as the next 
 number happened to be a musical act, something 
 which Sensuality could by no means appreciate, 
 they promptly made their way to the street. 
 
 [94] 
 
Sensuality had feasted his eyes on the impure so 
 long, that real music no longer held any charms 
 for him. He was, however, more than pleased 
 with the program as a whole, and was very much 
 surprised to find that Talent did not agree with 
 him. 
 
 Sensuality next took our hero to dinner, a 
 source of pleasure which the children of the flesh 
 can never forget for very long. He said: 
 
 "I always like to eat and drink; it is one of 
 man's greatest pleasures." Talent had never re- 
 garded eating as such before. To him when done 
 with moderation, it had always been a duty, 
 merely to preserve life, not as his cousin said, 
 "one of man's greatest pleasures." 
 
 The cousin led our hero into a delightful 
 restaurant, richly furnished, artistically lighted, 
 replete with music and cabaret, and peopled with 
 a gay, noisy crowd of sensual creatures, whose 
 one purpose in life seemed to be the gratification 
 of their lower desires. 
 
 Sensuality ate ravenously of the sumptuous 
 dinner he had ordered and drank copiously of 
 the sparkling wine which went with it. He offer- 
 ed liquor to Talent several times, and laughed 
 sneeringly at the lad's refusal. 
 
 "Do you expect to go through life like a Puri- 
 tan?" he asked, "don't you see that your mor- 
 
 [95] 
 
ality is contrary to the order of things in this 
 world? Why don't you enjoy yourself like I 
 do? You cannot gain anything by steadfastly 
 refusing to do as the rest of us do. People will be 
 offended if you preach your unwelcome doctrines 
 to them. They believe they are doing what is 
 right in following their desires for pleasure and 
 sensual joys, or if they do not actually believe 
 they are doing right, they are at least little con- 
 cerned with such doctrines as you are promul- 
 gating. After all, it is left to each one of us to 
 see to it that he gets as much joy out of life as 
 possible, so why worry?" 
 
 Talent tried to tell his cousin that his reason- 
 ing was false, that the free will of man decided 
 whether man would be happy or unhappy, both 
 in this world and the next. He tried to explain 
 that the morality, which the world understood, 
 was no morality at all without religion. But it 
 seemed to Talent that he could not at that mo- 
 ment think of the arguments which were neces- 
 sary to prove his point. Again the doubt arose 
 as to whether he was fighting a useless fight or 
 not. It seemed such a hopeless thing to try and 
 prove to the Age and his minions that they were 
 wrong, and that Conscience, Truth and Religion 
 were correct. Conscience seemed very far away 
 at this moment and Talent did not know how to 
 
 [96] 
 
proceed. He groped in the dark for the answer 
 which somehow would not come. The beautiful 
 world in which Sensuality and all his kind lived, 
 seemed rather free from care and worry. It 
 seemed to be a pleasing and delightful place even 
 if the joy did last but for a short time. 
 
 At that moment Conscience appeared with an 
 old friend, whom I have called Counsel. The lat- 
 ter opened a huge book which he always carried, 
 and pictured to Talent the results of Impurity 
 and Immorality in the world, portraying the 
 terrible penalty, which Sensuality and his 
 colleagues would have to pay for their riotous 
 living and immodesty. Some of them became 
 the victims of loathsome diseases, others ended 
 their days in insane asylums, still others went to 
 early graves, self-murderers. Some were even 
 cut down by the avenging hand of a just God 
 in the midst of their sins, and with foul and filthy 
 souls went to meet their Maker. But the most 
 terrible picture of all was the one representing 
 these souls in the future state of eternal retribu- 
 tion, suffering in the flames, cursing their folly 
 and uttering imprecations upon their compan- 
 ions in crime. 
 
 "Enough," said Talent, "I plainly see the folly 
 of this life of sin, and I shall fortify myself 
 against any recurrence of this temptation." 
 
 [97] 
 
And in the wild excitement of that noisy pal- 
 ace of depravity, Talent heard the parting words 
 of his mother: 
 
 "7 pray that God will keep thee as thou are, 
 80 innocent and pure of heart." 
 
 And in the midst of the mad whirl of the 
 cabaret, he saw a bright light, and in it a silver 
 chest with the illuminated word, "Memory," and 
 in this bright vision, were the forms of his dear 
 parents, beckoning their encouragement. 
 
 Louder than the seductive strains of the or- 
 chestra and the shouts of the revellers, came the 
 words, 
 
 "To thine own self be true 
 
 And it must follow as the night, the day, 
 
 Thou canst not then be false to any man." 
 
 After the meal, though Sensuality was by no 
 means anxious to discontinue his merry-mak- 
 ing, Talent finally persuaded him to leave, and 
 together they made their way to the home of the 
 Age. Sensuality would have liked to show Tal- 
 ent the low, vile dance hall, which the former 
 visited on many occasions, and where other 
 youths and maidens of tender age were learning 
 
 [98] 
 
the wicked ways of the world. Talent demurred, 
 however. He had seen enough. 
 
 He was becoming disgusted with the shams, 
 frivolities and wicked ways of this great city, 
 and he longed for the peace and quiet of his 
 little home town, Tranquility. Conscience would 
 have that they depart at once for their old home, 
 but a strangely sweet voice kept whispering to 
 Talent, 
 
 "No, do not go, you will see wonderful things, 
 if you remain. You will enjoy these pleasures in 
 time. Your search for Art will be rewarded. 
 Remain a little while longer." 
 
 That night Talent could not sleep. He kept 
 pondering on the things he had seen. He felt 
 that in spite of what he had witnessed that day, 
 there must still be some good people in Tempta- 
 tion City. He was sure that there were in this 
 city, some men and women, who like himself 
 loved and sought the True, and the Beautiful, 
 and the Good. He must find them. Finding 
 them meant that he would find the inspiration 
 to produce works of Art, which would be worthy 
 of a man with an immortal soul, worthy of a 
 being made according to the likeness of the 
 Creator. 
 
 But, could this inspiration ever be found in 
 Temptation City? Could the jazzy music, the 
 
 [99] 
 
salacious stories and songs, the filthy sex prob- 
 lem novel, the suggestive play on which the race 
 of men in Temptation City fed, cultivate a de- 
 sire in the heart of any one to reach the summit 
 of perfection in Art? He would soon see. 
 
 We have, perhaps like Talent, searched in vain 
 in Temptation City for Art, when we should 
 have sought this wonderful gift under the blue 
 sky, with the aid of the trees, the birds, the flow- 
 ers and the brook. Talent was soon to realize 
 this truth — God grant that we may realize it as 
 
 well. 
 
 • * * 
 
 "Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall 
 see God." (Matt. V, 8.) 
 
 # * * 
 
 "Know you not that your members are the 
 temple of the Holy Ghost? Know you not that 
 you are the temple of God, and that the spirit of 
 God dwelleth in you? But if any man violate 
 the temple of God, him shall God destroy, for 
 the temple of God is holy. (I Cor. VI, 16, 17.) 
 
 [100] 
 
THE SPIRIT OF GREED 
 
THE SPIRIT OF GREED 
 
 We use our art to gain our own vain ends instead of 
 being driven by our Art to find adequate expression for 
 some great truth that demands through us a hearing. 
 This sums up the whole position in the present-day crea- 
 tive art. — H. B. Wright. 
 
 Morning came and with it the announcement 
 that Talent was utterly disgusted with the city 
 and that he was contemplating an abrupt depar- 
 ture. His uncle was in a rage. He had hoped 
 to employ Talent in his business and make him 
 a shining light in the field of modern literature 
 and drama. The lad's scruples, he felt, would be 
 forgotten in the sea of worldly amusements into 
 which he had been plunged. But now the Age 
 saw this child of promise slipping from his 
 grasp. However, he was determined not to give 
 up yet. His friend and adviser, Greed would 
 know how to influence Talent. 
 
 Greed had always been a great friend of the 
 Age. He had no real business but assisted and 
 inspired everyone of the artists in the uncle's 
 employ. In fact he was a very prominent man 
 about the town, and a real force in the com- 
 munity, as we shall see. His one and only desire 
 
 [103] 
 
was the accumulation of money. He would 
 sacrifice anything, and perform any task, how- 
 ever low and debasing it might be, for the sake 
 of the almighty dollar. He claimed money ruled 
 the world and proceeded to prove it to Talent, to 
 whom he had just been introduced. 
 
 Did greed ever make his eloquent appeal to 
 you and me? Verily, just as he sought to in- 
 fluence Talent, so he has tried his arguments on 
 us. His appeal is ever old and ever new. And 
 as long as the world exists Greed will continue 
 to hold out alluring rewards to us as he did to 
 Talent, and men will continue to sell their gifts, 
 their talents, their virtues, ay, their very souls 
 for gold. 
 
 "People will sacrifice anything for money," 
 said Greed, "Art, fame, social position, even 
 safety and health are forfeited at times to ac- 
 quire more money. Money buys everything and 
 accomplishes everything. Your uncle writes nov- 
 els, not for the sake of Art but for money. Your 
 cousins sell pictures and produce plays, not be- 
 cause they love to entertain the people, but be- 
 cause they love money. Their talented sisters, 
 your dear cousins, enjoy life because they have 
 plenty of money and can spend it at will. In 
 short money is the greatest good in the world. 
 Its accumulation is man's final goal. 
 
 [104] 
 
"Now consider this, if you devote your powers 
 to the present day fiction, art and music, you will 
 soon become famous. Once you have acquired 
 fame you will be able to sell your ideas for enor- 
 mous amounts, and thus become wealthy. But 
 on the other hand, if you continue to foster that 
 hopeless idealism for which you are notorious, 
 you will become more ridiculous every day, for 
 people will set themselves against you. You will 
 be an obscure struggling artist all your life, a 
 dismal failure. Understand that you can never 
 become famous, unless you work for your uncle, 
 the Spirit of the Age. 
 
 "I once knew a young man like yourself," con- 
 tinued Greed. "He had great gifts, a fine educa- 
 tion and an opportunity to enter business. He 
 began well, married a charming young lady and 
 started on a career. — One day he was confronted 
 by a big business deal, the outcome of which 
 meant fortune or failure. He hesitated because 
 he feared he might violate the high principles of 
 morality, which he had set for himself. He 
 failed, lost his opportunity to become great, and 
 remained poor. He not only plunged himself 
 into misery but made life unbearable for his wife 
 and babies. He finally became desperate, joined 
 a band of thieves, was caught in an act of thiev- 
 ery and sent to jail. His poor wife died by her 
 
 [105] 
 
own hand, and his children became tramps. And 
 why did all this happen? Because he neglected 
 a golden opportunity to make himself and his 
 family rich. He became a martyr to principle. 
 He was a fool. 
 
 "Money gives you power, makes you respected 
 in the community, ushers you into the best 
 homes, throws open to you the portals of 
 commercial life — and you despise it. Money 
 gives you all the joys and pleasures of the world, 
 and insures you against hardship, poverty, mis- 
 ery and grief — and you scorn it." 
 
 To say that Talent was not tempted by this 
 eloquent appeal would be to give a young man 
 crec' 1 for experience and discretion beyond his 
 years. He was tempted. Even you and I have 
 been tempted to yield to a similar appeal. Even 
 the aged man with hair of silver, about to meet 
 his God, had been so tempted. 
 
 Talent had seen enough of the city to know 
 that Greed's doctrine prevailed everywhere. Must 
 he then also succumb to this subtle power and 
 sacrifice his lofty ideals on the altar of GOLD? 
 Conscience answered, "NO" — Talent hesitated. 
 He anticipated the joy which the possession of 
 riches would bring. He realized that all his 
 hopes and desires could then be satisfied. He 
 
 [106] 
 
understood, at least vaguely, what great power 
 he would wield if he were wealthy. 
 
 In that moment of doubt Talent saw a vision 
 appear. He saw some of the misery caused in 
 this world by man's untiring and ceaseless efforts 
 to acquire money. He saw before him a huge 
 crowd of people of all types, ages, sizes, rich and 
 poor, strong and weak. All were hurrying for- 
 ward, and all had their eyes rivited on the one 
 goal. The rich and the strong were afraid of 
 losing their position and were striving to push 
 their poor and weak brethren out of their way, 
 while the poor and the weak were cursing their 
 more fortunate brethren for the advantage they 
 had. A son spurned his father; a friend tram- 
 pled upon his friend; the spirit of hatred and 
 envy was stamped on every face. 
 
 And Talent looked up to see the object for 
 which this huge crowd was striving, the thing 
 which had taken all brotherly love and affection 
 from their hearts, the thing which had robbed 
 them of all consideration for each other. It was 
 a phantom flying ahead of the throng, a phantom 
 which bore the name GOLD. This was the 
 thing for which every man in that vast crowd 
 would sacrifice his ideals, his art, his nobility of 
 character, his very soul. 
 
 And behind the vast throng that sought the 
 
 [107] 
 
phantom, Gold, and entirely unnoticed by all, 
 stood the grim Reaper, Death. He selected cer- 
 tain ones here and there among the crowd, and 
 cut them down, ending forever the quest for the 
 phantom. Eventually the horrible Destroyer was 
 to slay all the multitude but not one was con- 
 scious of the fact. Every one was bent on acquir- 
 ing gold. Talent heard the words; "Thou fool, 
 this night do they require thy soul of thee, and 
 whose shall those things be, which thou hast 
 provided?" 
 
 Conscience said, "Greed for gold is one of the 
 greatest enemies of true Art in the world today. 
 Until men realize the futility of their all-absorb- 
 ing quest for riches, until they begin to appreci- 
 ate their sacred gifts and privileges, and take Art 
 at its true value, until then, the products of the 
 age must remain what they are now, false, 
 empty, useless products of an age of commercial- 
 ism. Whatever a [fickle and depraved public, 
 devoid of religious sense and moral code, de- 
 mand, that is produced because it brings to its 
 creators the almighty dollar." 
 
 Talent saw things in their true significance 
 now, and he took a firmer stand against the false 
 reasoning of Greed and his uncle. He made up 
 his mind that he would be poor all his life rather 
 than become wealthy in the way described by 
 
 [108] 
 
Greed. — Surely after all there would be a way 
 out of his difficulty. 
 
 "No, uncle," he said, "I must still refuse. You 
 must offer me better inducements than these if 
 you wish to win me to your cause." 
 
 Greed utterly dumfounded at the youth's ob- 
 stinacy angrily rushed from the room and down 
 the street in search of a new "shady" enterprise 
 which would net him several thousands more. 
 
 The uncle now introduced two more assistants 
 of his whom he had helped to positions of trust 
 in the field of arts and letters. First came Fame 
 who had sacrificed his ideals, fostered in a good 
 school, to the low standards of the Age. 
 
 "I once thought as you," he said, "I felt that I 
 could never devote my time and talent to the 
 shallow and debasing products of the times, but 
 I soon perceived that if I wished to make a name 
 for myself I must cater to the whims of influen- 
 tial people, and give them the kind of art and 
 literature they desired. I could not bear the 
 thought of remaining an obscure author pre^ 
 destined to failure from the outset. I could not 
 bear to have my lofty hopes and ambitions shat- 
 tered, so I began to give the public the work it 
 craved, I conformed to popular taste and at once 
 I became famous, and was honored by all. I am 
 now at the head of my profession and shall re- 
 
 [109] 
 
main in that coveted position as long as I favor 
 the Age and his patrons. This fame I can offer 
 you also, Talent, if you conform to public taste. 
 If you do not, obscurity and failure must be your 
 portion." 
 
 Again Talent, fortified by his home training 
 and Christian education, and prompted by the 
 whispered warnings of Conscience answered: 
 
 "No, I again refuse. To sacrifice my ideals for 
 such rewards would be like casting pearls to 
 swine. I would rather remain in obscurity than 
 rise to prominence at the sacrifice of Art and my 
 nobler sentiments." 
 
 As he spoke, Social Distinction, the third assist- 
 ant of the Age came forward and said: 
 
 "When you see my enviable position among 
 the upper classes, surrounded on all sides by 
 flattering men and adoring women, then you will 
 see the advantage of catering to those who are 
 in power. I enjoy social prominence; I am the 
 idol of the hour; I receive invitations to all the 
 society functions; I enter the most exclusive sets 
 and am honored as a great artist, and a genius by 
 a silly public incapable of appreciating true art. 
 But they are satisfied so I need not worry. If I 
 ruin my art to satisfy them, they have to carry 
 the blame, not I. If I were to change the char- 
 acter of my productions and give them real Art, 
 
 [110] 
 
they would not know or appreciate it and conse- 
 quently they would hate me and cast me out. I 
 crave society's honors and praises and I will 
 sacrifice anything to obtain them. You must also 
 become like me, if you wish to be successful in 
 your chosen field. You cannot disregard the de- 
 mands of the public and hope thereby to be hon- 
 ored and rewarded by that public. There is but 
 one way to succeed, and that is to offer your 
 services to the Spirit of the Times." 
 
 Talent once more refused to be led from the 
 path of duty, and firmly denounced this last 
 tempter, as well as those that had preceded him. 
 
 "I refuse to submit my gifts to your false art," 
 he said, "I shall never sacrifice my literary ability 
 to the Signs of the Times. May God help me 
 keep this resolution! As for the reward you 
 offer, I ignore that. I will, with God's help pro- 
 duce works of Art, but if these are not accepted 
 by the fickle public, I care not, for I know they 
 will be products, worthy of me and of the noble 
 race of intellectual men, of which I am a mem- 
 ber. My gre/atest reward will be the satisfaction 
 I feel in knowing that I have used my gifts as 
 God meant I should. I ask for nothing more. I 
 will ever be faithful to the advice of my parents, 
 and the warnings of my friend, Conscience. 
 
 This day our hero had passed through a severe 
 
 [Hi] 
 
ordeal. Placed in a world of pleasure, sur- 
 rounded by the joys of materialism, we can 
 imagine he was sorely tempted. The spiritual 
 and the ideal seemed during their eloquent ap- 
 peals to be very unsatisfying and inadequate. 
 Yet, here again, his excellent training was mani- 
 fest, and the words of the poet came back to 
 him, "To thine own self be true — ." 
 
 That night when Talent retired to rest, he gaz- 
 ed long and tenderly at the silver chest his folks 
 had given him, a practice which he had not for- 
 gotten since he arrived in Temptation City. And 
 on this night he felt that he could look honestly 
 and fearlessly at the pictures of his dear par- 
 ents, and say, "I have done my duty, I have fol- 
 lowed in the footsteps of the just." 
 
 Gold alone does passion move! 
 Gold monopolizes love! 
 A curse on her and on the man 
 Who this traffic first began ! 
 
 Gold begets in brethren hate; 
 Gold, in families, debate; 
 Gold does friendship separate, 
 Gold does civil wars create, 
 
 [112] 
 
These, the smallest harms of it; 
 Gold, also, does love beget. 
 
 — Crowley 
 
 Fame is what you have taken, 
 
 Character's what you give; 
 When to this truth you awaken 
 Then you begin to live. 
 — Bayard Taylor. 
 
 [113] 
 
THE SPIRIT OF HYPOCRISY 
 
THE SPIRIT OF HYPOCRISY 
 
 But ivhatever you are, be true! 
 Be visible through and through! 
 
 Leave to others the shamming, 
 
 The cheating and palming, 
 In fun and in earnest, be true! 
 
 — Anon. 
 
 Woe to you, hypocrites, because you are like to whiten- 
 ed sepulchures, which outwardly appear to men beautiful, 
 but ivithin are full of dead men's bones and all filthiness. 
 
 — Scripture. 
 
 Soon after the events narrated in the preced- 
 ing chapter, the Age called his son Hypocrisy, 
 the most friendly and affable person imagin- 
 able, who outwardly was a very conscientious 
 and God-fearing man. He was very clever how- 
 ever, and though at heart just as corrupt as his 
 brothers and the rest of their associates, or even 
 worse at times, he nevertheless was capable of 
 hiding his true character under a veil of right- 
 eousness. 
 
 Hypocrisy believed that a man was rewarded 
 or punished for the good or evil he did openly, 
 acts which every man could see, acts on which 
 society could pass judgment. In his estimation 
 
 [117] 
 
a man was as good as he appeared. The sins 
 done in secret, the filthy thoughts surging 
 through diseased brains, the thoughts of envy, 
 hatred and revenge formulating in the mind 
 of the criminal, all these were not evil in them- 
 selves, providing they never came to view. 
 Character and reputation were one and the same 
 thing to this exponent of the Times, and a man 
 was good if the people considered him good. 
 This accounted for his business and his art pro- 
 ductions which were soon to be shown to our 
 hero. 
 
 The amiable cousin Hypocrisy, seemingly very 
 frank and sincere, smiled indulgently upon 
 Talent, even as he has smiled upon millions of 
 others, even as he has smiled upon you and me. 
 and led him forth to his sphere of activity. He 
 was an exponent of the New Art Motion Pic- 
 tures, which owing to their many advantages 
 could have become a real influence for good 
 in any community. If properly controlled by 
 conscientious men and women, they could have 
 been employed in all educational ventures, 
 business activities and finally as mediums of 
 grand thoughts and noble aspirations in the 
 drama. Instead of this however the new art 
 had been taken over by an age of Commercial- 
 ism and Materialism and the result — serious 
 
 [118] 
 
wholesome plays in film died of neglect, and in 
 their place came what the people wanted, the 
 corrupt and degrading piece of mechanism 
 called the modern 'Movie.' 
 
 Hypocrisy was a producer of such photo- 
 plays, which he called clean and wholesome 
 amusement for young and old, which were in- 
 variably passed by the boards of censors, and 
 which were advertised as a great moral uplift 
 in the community. However in all the vast 
 amount of film made at the suggestion and 
 under the supervision of Hypocrisy, there were 
 but a few plays that could even be called at- 
 tempts at Art. Some of the rest were senseless 
 dramas depicting robberies, murders, and a 
 dozen other crimes; scenes designed to be hu- 
 morous and supposed to produce uproarious 
 laughter, in which the characters were placed 
 in circumstances uncalled for and unreasonable 
 from which they extricated themselves with 
 difficulty, much to the amusement of the chil- 
 dren and many simple-minded adults. 
 
 Some of the plays were suggestive, others 
 artistically immoral, and still others presented 
 phases of free love, birth control, divorce, white 
 slavery and the like, the portrayal of which was 
 an insult to any generation of intelligent men 
 and women, and whose baneful effects must 
 
 [119] 
 
naturally be very great. The diabolical ingen- 
 uity by which the originator of these artistic 
 counterfeits deceived the public with his filthy 
 products, made the most marked impression on 
 Talent. If the play portrayed all the crimes 
 and wickedness of the underworld then it was 
 advertised as a moral lesson, a warning to young 
 girls; if it presented shameless near-nudities of 
 depraved actors, then it was called a work of 
 art. Thus the real harm was invariably hidden 
 beneath the mantle of beauty and goodness. 
 On the pretext of producing art or teaching 
 a great moral lesson these lascivious scenes 
 were shown and the harm they brought to all 
 people but especially to innocent youths and 
 maidens, whose first wrong impressions of life 
 and first ideas of wickedness were derived from 
 this source, could easily be imagined. 
 
 "These artistic masterpieces, these wonders of 
 the science of photography are intended prim- 
 arily," said Hypocrisy, "to teach man the lesson 
 of good and evil, that good ought to be done 
 and evil avoided. They are guaranteed to put 
 young folks on their guard especially, and they 
 prove a warning to people to shun the great 
 social evils of this generation. They will in time 
 do away with crime. Surely you will be willing 
 to devote your gifts to this noble cause, the 
 
 [120] 
 
 
stamping out of crime, and ignorance. It is 
 only through this new medium of enlightenment 
 and training that this can be done efficaciously. 
 
 "In my plays I make virtue appear beautiful, 
 and vice horrible so that people will see the dif- 
 ference between the two and so be led to do 
 the right and avoid crime." (The fact that 
 people in Temptation City were constantly -be- 
 coming worse did not seem to appeal to the 
 would-be moralist). 
 
 "Of course, since you are to become one of us 
 here, I might add that we do not really believe 
 that we are preaching a great lesson or giving 
 the public true art, but the people think so, at 
 least for the most part, and we allow them to 
 think as they please, so long as they pay for the 
 production we turn out." 
 
 Talent, however, could have seen the shallow- 
 ness of Hypocrisy and his system even without 
 this admission. Talent knew by now that this 
 was merely an excuse for marketing the ob- 
 scene plays, but the audacity of the fellow stun- 
 ned him for all that. 
 
 "My cousin," said Talent, "there are vices 
 which should not be openly paraded, especially 
 before the eyes of impressionable youths and 
 maidens. No good can come from such a dis- 
 play — nothing but harm. Innocent young folks 
 
 [121] 
 
who know nothing about some crimes, learn all 
 about them from your vivid portrayals, and as 
 a result, sins are multiplied instead of diminished. 
 Another thing, — even when you show at the end 
 of your picture play that wickedness is punished 
 and goodness and purity rewarded, you fill nine- 
 tenths of the play with the lurid and ugly details 
 of -a wicked life, so that very little good and 
 much harm are bound to result. So much for 
 your pretended morality. As for your frank ad- 
 mission concerning the real state of your mind 
 and soul, I can only say that your work is de- 
 moniacal both in wickedness and effectiveness." 
 
 Hypocrisy naturally resented this well-merited 
 denunciation. That was the role he could play 
 best, — injured innocence. Talent was so exas- 
 perated over this new, hitherto unequalled ex- 
 ample of the baseness of this age that he ex- 
 claimed vehemently: 
 
 "The world thinks your plays are artistic, yet 
 I tell you there never was a more base travesty 
 on the name. The world thinks you are 
 teaching a moral lesson, but I tell you in 
 the voice of Truth that your shameless out- 
 put has just the opposite effect, it does more 
 harm under the guise of innocence and purity 
 than the products of the other schools which 
 make no pretense of morality. 
 
 [122] 
 
"You are against censorship, and you say it is 
 a violation of liberty — You lie when you say 
 that, for liberty is the freedom to do what is 
 right, not the license to give the people spiritual 
 and moral poison. No one has a right to do 
 what is wrong. This is what competent and 
 conscientious censors are trying to prevent, and 
 you say that they take away your liberty. It is 
 the height of folly to put such an interpretation 
 on the word — liberty." 
 
 Before leaving the studio of Hypocrisy, Talent 
 had an opportunity to view in the concrete some 
 of the cousin's latest productions. One was a 
 spectacle called the "Breath of Nature" showing 
 an utter disregard for all the rules of modesty 
 and propriety — this was a very elaborate play 
 costing thousands of dollars to produce. It was 
 advertised as the triumph of the cinema, the 
 most elaborate spectacle of the century. Another 
 displayed the dangers which beset young folks 
 in the large cities, and many an innocent youth 
 and maiden, much to their detriment, were to re- 
 ceive their first impressions of vice through this 
 medium. The rest of the plays inspected were 
 much the same, all supposedly ethical or edu- 
 cational productions almost always filled with 
 lascicious scenes, which under the pretense of 
 conveying a moral lesson were really meant to 
 
 [123] 
 
appeal to the baser nature of man. All of them 
 were cleverly wrapped in the robe of righteous- 
 ness, but they preached the violation of the 
 divine commandments just as surely as if they 
 had paraded their impurity openly. 
 
 Talent had seen enough. The false teachings 
 and veiled wickedness of his cousin Hypocrisy 
 had made more of an impresion on him than the 
 open violations of God's commandments by the 
 other brethren, for Talent realized that in this 
 case the harm was greater, and less likely to be 
 discovered. He was beginning to doubt whether 
 he would ever be able to find a true and worthy 
 medium for his art, whether he would not be 
 compelled to give up his profession altogether. 
 He began to despair of ever finding true beauty 
 and goodness expressed in art, or people who 
 could appreciate it after it was given to them. 
 
 In the very darkness of despair came the en- 
 couraging voice of Conscience telling him that 
 some day the creatures of this age would wake 
 up and discover their folly, some day Talent 
 would be able by means of his Art to teach them 
 the beauty of the human soul and its higher 
 aspirations, and that he would eventually meet 
 the being who would make this achievement pos- 
 sible, the Spirit of Beauty, that together they 
 would go forth under the guidance and direction 
 
 [124] 
 
of Religion and preach to the world the message 
 of Nature, in terms of truth and beauty. 
 
 This consolation made Talent feel better and 
 he retired to bed that night thinking and plan- 
 ning for the great future which was open to him 
 after he left this wicked city. The motto which 
 he had chosen for himself made a new appeal to 
 him now, since he had made a study of the 
 abominable double-morality of his cousin, Hypo- 
 crisy. In letters of light, bright as the snow in 
 sun light he saw the words of the motto: 
 
 To thine own self be true 
 And it must follow as the night the day, 
 Thou canst not then be false to any man. 
 
 [125] 
 
THE SPIRIT OF INTEMPERANCE 
 
THE SPIRIT OF INTEMPERANCE 
 
 Oh, that men should put an enemy in 
 Their mouths to steal away their trains! that we 
 Should, with joy, pleasure, revel and applause, 
 Transform ourselves to oeasts. 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 "Surely," said the Age to another of his sons, 
 Intemperance, "Talent will love your com- 
 pany, for you are like him in many respects, 
 you are a college-bred man like himself, (the 
 uncle did not mention what kind of a col- 
 lege) you have great gifts of intellect, a hand- 
 some face and manly form so I think you two 
 will make a splendid pair. Take him out with 
 you and try to interest him in something by all 
 means. Your dear brother Sensuality, with whom 
 you have always been so intimate was unable to 
 please our conscientious relative, but perhaps 
 you will succeed where he failed." The Age was 
 determined not to lose Talent without a last 
 strenuous effort. 
 
 So this son of the Age, whom I have called 
 Intemperance, became the companion of our 
 hero, and the latter was given the opportunity 
 to study his life and actions. And no doubt we 
 
 [129] 
 
can all recall how at one time or other in our 
 lives the Spirit of Intemperance, beautiful and 
 attractive, comely as to face and form appealed 
 in a most enticing manner to all of us. 
 
 Intemperance it is true had once been a most 
 promising young man, endowed by Nature with 
 rare gifts of body, and soul. He had been sent 
 to a big university far from home because the 
 father had heard much about this institution and 
 thought it was the most stylish and exclusive of 
 all. The Age considered the prestige attached 
 to this well known institution, an all-important 
 feature. Here the youth had received excellent 
 training for mind and body, but his heart and 
 soul had been left to their own desires, and 
 owing to evil influences, bad companions and 
 too much freedom and idleness his mind became 
 "the veritable Devil's work shop," and the heart 
 and soul were soon corrupted. 
 
 All kinds of abuses crept into the life of this 
 student whose education was so one-sided, and 
 whose preceptors concerned themselves but little 
 with what went on outside of the class room. 
 
 It was an evil day when this child of the Age 
 was first induced to taste liquor, at the invitation 
 of a fellow student. The occasion was a celebra- 
 tion of some kind in a fellow student's room. 
 At first he had not wanted any of the fiery fluid, 
 
 [130] 
 
whicli turns men's brains into water, but his 
 friends coaxed him and rather than be called a 
 coward he accepted the glass, and began a habit 
 which had now grown to such a degree that it 
 made him more beast than man. Before that 
 he had not known many of the evils in the world, 
 but now his eyes were opened and the most 
 flagrant violations of rules and precepts were as 
 nothing to him. 
 
 His great intellectual gifts were soon wrecked. 
 He cared for nothing but the gay riotous living 
 with which his friends soon made him familiar. 
 One extravagant feast and drunken carousal fol- 
 lowed the other, until finally he was expelled 
 from the university. The institution which had 
 fostered the spirit of God-less education and 
 mind-training without morality, now cast aside 
 the protege who had followed its dictum to the 
 letter. 
 
 In the city the unfortunate youth allowed his 
 passion for strong drink to be satisfied to the 
 full extent. His liberal supply of money pro- 
 vided by his careless and indulgent parents en- 
 abled him to take part in every function which 
 the shallow and flippant society folk could ar- 
 range and always was the imbibing of strong 
 drink one of the necessary features. His craving 
 for liquor became stronger every day because it 
 
 [131] 
 
was continually indulged. This was the condi- 
 tion of affairs at the time this chapter opens, and 
 this dissolute youth I have pictured was the one 
 appointed by the Age to interest Talent in the 
 joys of the city. 
 
 Intemperance sought to justify himself by say- 
 ing that artists and geniuses in general had to 
 have some weakness of this kind. The world ex- 
 pected them to be temperamental. After all, 
 "one had to sow his wild oats," he told Talent. 
 
 Instead of convincing our hero of the advisa- 
 bility of adopting such a course, Intemperance, 
 by his presence and by what he pictured to Tal- 
 ent, made him see, as he had never seen before, 
 the terrible effects of the drink habit. And the 
 examples he saw were the same as those that 
 have appeared to men the world over, the same 
 terrible examples that have made an impression 
 perhaps upon you and me. 
 
 First he saw an elaborately furnished beer 
 garden, peopled mostly with young men and 
 women. These youths and maidens of tender 
 age, many of whom were in the place for the 
 first time, were imbibing ample quantities of 
 beer and wine to the tune of dreamy music and 
 the gay laughter of companions. Blinded by the 
 richness and magnificance of their surroundings, 
 forgetful of anxious mothers at home, many of 
 
 [132] 
 
them were tasting for the first time in their 
 young lives, the wine cup, which seemed to them 
 then the cup of happiness but which was to be- 
 come a cup of bitter sorrow. 
 
 Dancing of course went hand-in-hand with 
 this drinking carnival — not the oldfashioned 
 dancing which was graceful and becoming, bul 
 the latest "jazzy" and suggestive innovations of 
 ultra-modern dancing teachers. The young 
 women who would cry for help at the least sug- 
 gestion of familiarity on the part of men in any 
 other place, here allowed liberties, which would 
 have been disgraceful in the jungle. Immodest 
 costumes, painted and powdered faces were 
 everywhere in evidence, and helped to complete 
 this midnight orgy. 
 
 Next Talent saw the poor working man, who 
 had to toil from early morning till late at night 
 to keep his family from starvation, whose 
 meager earnings were absolutely necessary to 
 purchase food and clothing for his wife and little 
 ones — he saw this man leave his work at the end 
 of the week and enter a saloon in which he 
 squandered his hard-earned salary on liquor 
 which would soon transform him into a beast. 
 This same man would then go to his home in a 
 drunken fury and abuse his patient wife and 
 crying children. He further saw this family, 
 
 [133] 
 
reduced to utter destitution, further reviled and 
 abused by the father whose heart had been 
 changed to stone in the glittering palace of In- 
 temperance, turned into the street. 
 
 Another scene pictured a shabby looking 
 tramp begging for a drink in a dirty little saloon. 
 When he had plenty of money he had squander- 
 ed it on liquor and now he had not a cent to his 
 name. But the demon within him demanded li- 
 quor and so he begged a drink for nothing. The 
 proprietor was displaying a costly diamond 
 which he had purchased for his wife, and the 
 tramp, becoming interested, asked to see the val- 
 uable gem. The proprietor ordered him away and 
 threatened to throw him into the street if he did 
 not move on. The unfortunate sot seemed to 
 regain some of his self-possession and said: 
 
 "I bought that diamond there with all the 
 money I have given you for the vile stuff which 
 reduced me to my present state. I became a 
 drunken bum and you, a rich man. Now you 
 wish to throw me out. And driven to despair 
 the poor tramp rushed at the proprietor and 
 would have killed him. The latter, however, was 
 the stronger and without further ado he cast the 
 wretch into the gutter, where he was left to die. 
 
 Still another scene met the horrified gaze of 
 our hero. This time it was a woman who was the 
 
 [134] 
 
victim. She who is the ideal of man's dreams, to 
 whom man looks of love, devotion, inspiration 
 and all that is noble and elevating, she had be- 
 come a victim of the drink habit. She had left 
 home to avoid the strict but kindly discipline of 
 fond parents, had descended the social ladder, 
 step by step, and finally sold herself for gold — 
 gold with which to buy liquor. On this night she 
 had been unsuccessful in her quest for a victim, 
 and her passion for drink must needs be satisfied. 
 Her money was gone, she dared not go home, 
 and there was no one in all the heartless city 
 whom she could have called friend. At length in 
 despair she hurried to the river bank determined 
 to end it all. She took one last glance at the city 
 of crime behind her and plunged into the river 
 ending her life of impurity and intemperance. 
 The dark waters closed over her and she went 
 to meet her God. Merciful Heaven what a life! 
 What a death! 
 
 Thus did Talent see every imaginable vice fol- 
 low in the wake of the drunkard. Into such a 
 world plunged his cousin. To him the idea of 
 virtue meant nothing; all finer sentiments, and 
 aspirations were but idle fancies. Nothing could 
 please him but the wine cup and this became his 
 god. Talent shuddered as he thought of the in- 
 evitable goal toward which his cousin was tend- 
 
 [135] 
 
ing. He understood the words of the wise man 
 when he said: 
 
 "There is no vice except drunkenness which 
 can so utterly destroy the peace and happiness 
 of the home, which can so completely transform 
 the image of God into an image of Satan." 
 
 Talent also saw how powerless he was to 
 remedy the evil. He distinctly understood that 
 if Art were ever to triumph in Temptation City, 
 the spirit of Intemperance and his companions 
 must be effectually eradicated. In this cesspool 
 of drunken debauchery there was no room for 
 beauty or goodness. He saw too that the many 
 laws which man was making to do away entirely 
 with liquor, would not suffice to keep men tem- 
 perate. The old law of God was not enough to 
 make men just and holy — how could man's law 
 accomplish anything? Until the people of 
 Temptation City would respond to the message 
 of righteousness and make temperance one of 
 their life principles, conditions would become 
 worse in spite of all the laws man might make. 
 
 Utterly disgusted with the sights he had seen, 
 and the example his cousin had given him, our 
 hero left the youth in the midst of his revelry 
 and hurried away to seek solace and comfort 
 among his books. These silent yet eloquent 
 
 [136] 
 
companions, seemed after his night of horror, 
 all the more sweet and reassuring. 
 
 The pleasure and joys of Temptation City 
 seemed empty indeed when exposed. He saw 
 them in their true colors. They sickened him now 
 and he longed to flee from them. On the morrow, 
 however, he was to meet the greatest tempter 
 which would try him as gold in the furnace. In 
 one more day he would know what to do, either 
 stay and adopt the life of the Age and his col- 
 leagues, or flee from the city and give up his 
 search for Art. 
 
 "Beware the bowl; though rich and bright, 
 Its rubies flash upon the sight, 
 An adder coils its depths beneath, 
 Whose lure is woe^ whose sting is death." 
 
 —A. B. Street. 
 
 [137] 
 
THE SPIRIT OF PLEASURE 
 
THE SPIRIT OF PLEASURE 
 
 Vice is a monster of so frightful mein, 
 As, to be hated, needs out to be seen; 
 Yet, seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
 We first endure, then pity, then embrace. 
 
 — Pope. 
 
 It is vanity to love that which passeth with all speed, 
 and not to hasten thither where everlasting joy remaineth. 
 
 — Thomas a' Kempis. 
 
 "I don't think we can keep our nephew Tal- 
 ent here with us," said the Age to his wife Lax- 
 ity, a short time later. "He sees no joy in any- 
 things that the world loves. He scorned all the 
 inducements that I offered, and is determined to 
 go through life with that companion Conscience 
 whom he brought with him." 
 
 "It is annoying," answered the wife, "our 
 daughter Frivolity failed to interest him, and 
 she is such a lovable girl too. I fear he will pack 
 up and leave our home and go back to that old- 
 fashioned town where he came from." 
 
 "What a fool he is," continued the husband, 
 "to disregard such opportunities which come but 
 once in a lifetime. He ought to know that he 
 can never make a living or achieve success with 
 
 [141] 
 
such strict ideas of morality. The people today 
 do not care for religion, they do not care for 
 sermons, they do not care for virtue. What 
 they want is material and sensual pleasure, and 
 if he does not devote his life to this cause he is 
 doomed to failure." 
 
 Laxity replied, "perhaps our other daughter 
 who attracts every one else could also interest 
 this nephew of ours. I think you started out 
 wrongly with him. You shocked him with your 
 lax moral code. You should have appealed to 
 his artistic sense. He is an artist and has the 
 soul of an artist. 'Pleasure' will surely charm 
 him and who knows but what she will win him 
 for her husband. If so you will have him for a 
 son-in-law, and will have accomplished your de- 
 signs, for then he will devote himself to your 
 work." 
 
 Pleasure was the other daughter of the Age 
 and Laxity, a gifted but extremely worldly young 
 lady, whose name admirably denoted her only 
 thought and ambition. She was very beautiful 
 as to physical perfection, but she seemed to have 
 no soul at all. Her main object in life was to 
 enjoy one good time after the other, with never 
 a spiritual or ennobling thought. 
 
 She was like her sister Frivolity in this respect 
 that both sought pleasure as their final goal, but 
 
 [142] 
 
she was unlike the younger girl inasmuch as she 
 took the pains to find the greatest pleasure with 
 the least amount of pain, while Frivolity's atti- 
 tude was merely one of indifference. 
 
 She had been endowed by Nature, as I said, 
 with bewitching beauty, and this beauty of the 
 body she loved and sought, thinking nothing 
 about the real beauty of the soul. The fact that 
 her own immortal soul was the image of her 
 Maker, while her body was but clay, made no 
 impression on this worlding. She was blessed 
 with indulgent parents who gave her all the 
 money she could spend, so that her every whim 
 had always been satisfied. She was a connoisseur 
 in the selection of amusements and could usually 
 choose those which would bring the greatest joy. 
 Every new form of entertainment was eagerly 
 sought and indulged. 
 
 This then was the character which was to be- 
 come the guide of Talent, just as she has sought 
 at times to be our guide in our passage through 
 Temptation City. This was the being that 
 should, according to plans of Laxity and the Age, 
 become the life mate of Talent. How different 
 their qualifications; how unlike their thoughts 
 and ambitions; how widely apart must their life 
 courses be! Talent lived for his soul, Pleasure 
 seemed to have none at all — he loved the noble 
 
 [143] 
 
side of man and the actions which made him 
 more like his Maker, she loved only material, 
 transient, joy-giving actions and disregarded the 
 Creator — he sought the spiritual, she, the ma- 
 terial. How could such a pair ever hope to 
 reconcile their thoughts and sentiments? How 
 could they hope to live together in harmony? 
 
 Talent was now led out into the great city, 
 Temptation. Before his eyes passed all the 
 amusements and delights which could cheer his 
 young heart. All the beauties of an age given 
 over to materialism were offered to him with 
 the hope of making him also a child of the times. 
 The most interesting plays and books were 
 brought forward; the most expensive meals were 
 prepared; the most charming companions were 
 provided. In short every possible thing which 
 Pleasure could procure was ordered for him, in 
 the hope of diverting his mind and heart from 
 the path of duty; with the intention of making 
 him sacrifice his talents for Pleasure's cause and 
 for the interests of the Age. 
 
 Pleasure appealed to him thus: "Remember 
 you are young; you have a right to enjoy life in 
 whatever way pleases you. You have been given 
 rare gifts which are yours to use as you see fit. 
 You have labored hard to acquire an education 
 which is also your own property. What right 
 
 [144] 
 
has Conscience or any one else to dictate to you 
 or give you laws to follow. You are your own 
 master. 
 
 "Now you are seeing life as it really is, for the 
 first time in your career. You are seeing joys 
 of which you did not dream before. You are 
 beginning to enjoy this' existence. You are by 
 degrees giving way to the influence of the times, 
 and it is perfectly right that you should. You 
 are gradually becoming accustomed to these 
 alluring surroundings. You are slowly yet surely 
 yielding to the charms of Pleasure." 
 
 Talent tired to protest, but at the moment, life 
 did seem very sweet in Temptation City, and the 
 wonders of this life of ease and luxury appeared 
 most enticing. The guiding influence of Consci- 
 ence ever near at hand seemed now to be very 
 far away. The young man was facing the great- 
 est crisis of his life. He who had fought the 
 open enemies of Art and Culture so bravely was 
 giving way to this subtle charmer. He tried in 
 vain to protest. Pleasure saw his struggle and 
 urged on with her plea: 
 
 "You see how useless it is to fight against the 
 spirit of the times. Art like everything else must 
 conform to the laws laid down, and these laws 
 are continually changing. Morality is what the 
 people make it. As the ideas of the people are 
 
 [145] 
 
constantly undergoing a change so must Art also 
 change. If you do not contribute your literary 
 and dramatic talents to the Age, you will be for- 
 ever forced out of this beautiful region which 
 you have learned to love. You will become an 
 outcast, poor and friendless, an object not of 
 pity but of scorn. Of what benefit will your 
 education and talent be then? You will be a 
 martyr to your own useless and profitless doc- 
 trine of rigorism and you will finally lay down 
 your life in some place of exile, deploring your 
 
 condition and cursing your folly — 
 
 For the saddest words of tongue or pen 
 
 Are the sad, sad words — 'it might have been. " 
 
 As our hero listened to these words he began 
 to doubt whether after all it would not be better 
 to yield. The world looked very bright indeed 
 and to give it up forever, as well as all his hopes 
 for success, seemed very hard. He could not 
 bear to think of losing his Art forever, and of 
 becoming a failure. What would his parents 
 say if he failed? What would all his friends and 
 school mates say? He dreaded to hear their 
 sneers and taunts. Perhaps he had been too 
 conscientious. Would it be worse for him than 
 for all the other artists before him who had 
 
 [146] 
 
prostituted Art in the same way? Perhaps 
 Pleasure was right. 
 
 The lights and laughter, the music and colors 
 of the pagan palace in which his cousin Pleasure, 
 was entertaining him, seemed very sweet indeed 
 at this time. Even the feasting, the boisterous 
 conduct and wanton abandon of the patrons of 
 this palace of iniquity were beginning to appeal 
 to him. And just when he was on the point of 
 telling Pleasure that he had determined to join 
 the forces of the Age, he saw something which 
 made him hesitate. Above the wild orgy on 
 every side, beyond the confusion of sensual 
 pleasures, far above this feast of materialism, 
 surpassing all the artificial beauty and attraction 
 of Pleasure and the Spirit of the Age, there ap- 
 peared a light bright in the midst of darkness 
 and doubt, brighter by far than the glare of 
 Temptation City; and in this new light there 
 appeared the forms of Truth, Beauty and Good- 
 ness, dazzling in their brilliance. They seemed 
 to be beckoning to Talent to join them, and en- 
 couraging him to persevere. 
 
 Louder than the sensual music and boisterous 
 laughter in the resort came the words of Con- 
 science. "To thine own self be true, and it must 
 follow as the night, the day thou canst not chen 
 be false to any man." Talent realized that the 
 
 [147] 
 
struggle was over and that "he had fought the 
 good fight." He thanked God for the victory 
 and begged for strength for the future, for he 
 knew that his work had just begun. 
 
 Perceiving the baseness of this spectacle of 
 depravity as he never had before, he rushed past 
 the detaining arms of Pleasure and away from 
 the hideous Feast of Materialism. Out into the 
 night he fled, past the bright lights of similar 
 resorts, past the idle throngs seeking new diver- 
 sions, past the theaters with their lurid posters 
 and obscene pictures. He was so disgusted with 
 everything which reminded him of the last few 
 days that he determined to flee from the city and 
 take refuge in the mountains. He yearned for 
 peace and quiet and a chance to meditate on the 
 hopelessness of the past and the possibilities of 
 the future. 
 
 Talent saw clearly that he would never find 
 in Temptation City the true object of his art, 
 the expression of man's soul. Something seemed 
 to assure him, however, that somewhere beyond 
 the noise and bustle of the city, beyond the 
 falseness and artificiality of man's creations, 
 somewhere in peaceful solitude of God's country, 
 he would eventually discover the ideal of his 
 dreams, the spirit of Truth and Beauty. 
 
 [148] 
 
THE SPIRIT OF THE BEAUTIFUL 
 
THE SPIRIT OF THE BEAUTIFUL 
 
 Of beauty's wondrous fair thou art the fairest, 
 All maiden sweetness in thy heart thou bearest. 
 
 No earthly pleasure can I place above thee; 
 Siueet maiden, with the heav'n pure face, 
 I love thee. 
 
 — Clara L. Kneeland. 
 
 When Talent hurried away from Temptation 
 City, he had no definite plans for the future. 
 His one object was to get far away from the 
 least suggestion of the influence of the Age. 
 He had had his fill of adventure, he had seeu 
 life as Materialism views it, "through the dirty 
 panes of a bar-room window." He wished to 
 retire into the unexplored wilderness to com- 
 mune with Nature and Nature's God. 
 
 He kept on until he reached a particularly 
 wild and unexplored section of mountainous 
 country, far removed from all traces of civil- 
 ization, where the destructive hand of Progress 
 had not as yet demolished the work of the 
 Creator. Here there were no smokestacks to 
 belch forth destructive fumes, no deafening 
 shrieks of whistles to break the solemn still- 
 ness, and no shouts of a pleasure-mad race to 
 
 [151] 
 
profane this sanctuary. Modern progress had 
 not sewed "purple patches" on this garment of 
 Nature — it was still in its original form, fresh 
 from the hands of the Great Builder. 
 
 Here in a delightful spot on the side of a tall 
 mountain, surrounded by the flowers and the 
 birds, and all the beauties of Nature, Talent 
 took up his abode. He needed nothing else. 
 He found the most wonderful art in the blue 
 sky above; the best literature in the unspoken 
 descriptions of God's mountains and valleys; 
 the sweetest music in the songs of the birds 
 and the babbling of the brook; and the most 
 sublime drama in the continuous succession 
 of day and night, sunrise and sunset — in short 
 in every wonderful shifting scene of this ex- 
 quisite panorama. 
 
 Gradually the memory of the past died away 
 and Talent became again the happy, care-free 
 youth that he had been when he left his home 
 so many weeks before. With the return of his 
 former self, however, came also the longing 
 for the expression of Art, and the desire to find 
 a fitting medium for the expression of his liter- 
 ary ability. And then there came into his life 
 the being whom he had sought so long in vain, 
 the Being who was to teach him true Art, the 
 being who was to be his greatest inspiration. 
 
 [152] 
 
One day after Talent had taken a long ramble 
 through the forest, thinking always of his life 
 work and its fulfillment, he grew weary and 
 sank down upon a rock to rest. The solution 
 of this difficult problem of his mission per- 
 plexed and tired him. As if in answer to his 
 unspoken petition to Nature came the sound of 
 music, most beautiful strains from a violin. 
 Talent scarcely breathed; he felt as if he had 
 been transplanted to another world. The in- 
 visible musician must be a genius, he thought, 
 to produce such melodious sounds. The music 
 came closer and now Talent, peering in the 
 direction whence it proceeded, beheld a charm- 
 ing maiden about his own age. 
 
 She was a lovely young girl, more beautiful, 
 thought Talent than any other being he had ever 
 seen. She seemed like an angel. She kept on 
 playing, coming closer to the spot where Talent 
 stood, until she stopped directly in front of him. 
 She ended her pretty melody and looked at the 
 youth with a happy smile. Talent was amazed 
 to see any human being in this secluded spot, 
 especially one of such rare beauty as the crea- 
 ture who stood before him. He finally managed 
 to ask the question, "Who are you?" 
 
 "I am called the Spirit of the Beautiful," she 
 answered, and her voice was sweet and low, "I 
 
 [153] 
 
am the embodiment of the beauty of the soul. 
 I represent everything good in nature. I am 
 an artist and a musician. I put down on canvas 
 and express in music the message of the noble 
 and sublime in the human soul. I express Art 
 according to the purpose of the Creator." 
 
 "How delightful!" exclaimed Talent, "I have 
 been looking for a being like you for ever so 
 long. I searched through Temptation City in 
 vain for you. I waited a long time in the studios 
 of the Age, Materialism and Hypocrisy, hoping 
 that you would come to me there. I sought you 
 in the haunts of Pleasure and Frivolity, but all 
 in vain. At length despairing of ever finding 
 you, I ran away from Temptation City and came 
 here to this lonely spot, determined to forget 
 my Art and forsake my literary aspirations." 
 
 Beauty answered, "And coming to this pretty 
 spot, taking up your abode in this region, which 
 is called the 'Valley of Reflection' you have 
 found me, whom you could never have found 
 in Temptation City. I shun the Spirit of the 
 Age and all his colleagues. Long ago I forsook 
 the haunts of your cousins in the whirlpool of 
 excitement and frivolity. I am the true child 
 of Nature and it is only when communing with 
 Nature that I can be found." 
 
 Perhaps you and I have also searched in vain 
 
 [154] 
 
through Temptation City, amid noise and excite- 
 ment and gayety, amid revels and riotings, for 
 the Spirit of the Beautiful. And perhaps even 
 you and I will one day find her, who is sym- 
 bolical of peace and contentment and lasting- 
 joy, if we search in the valley of Reflection, even 
 as Talent found the only being who could glad- 
 den his heart. 
 
 "Now, dear Spirit of Beauty," exclaimed 
 Talent, "I will relate the dream I had a few 
 nights ago, as I slumbered in the quiet valley 
 of Reflection. I dreamt that in a few days I 
 would meet you, that together we would go 
 forth to preach the Resurrection of Art. As a 
 medium to teach this grand and noble lesson 
 to humanity, we chose a wonderful spectacle, a 
 sort of play, in which our combined gifts were 
 utilized, your painting and music, and my pro- 
 ficiency in literature and drama. Guided by some 
 unseen force we produced what the world so 
 sorely needs, a truly artistic drama. We brought 
 about the complete revolution of modern Art, 
 and gave people once more the proper idea of 
 the meaning of this God-given blessing. It 
 marked the final overthrow of the Age and all 
 his forces." 
 
 "Why can we not make this dream come 
 true? I feel as if it is a message from Above. 
 
 [155] 
 
You represent beauty, I, genius. You have gifts 
 in the departments of music and painting, while 
 I possess literary and dramatic ability. Why 
 can we not combine our gifts and collaborate 
 on a great spectacle which in every sense of the 
 word will be true Art?" 
 
 "I agree," responded Beauty, for she also felt 
 that this was her life work, "this is why I am 
 on earth. I must not keep my beauty to my- 
 self, but I must show it forth to the world, I 
 must display before all the world the grandeur 
 of the human soul and the message of Nature. 
 The Age displays the picture of man in all his 
 weakness, his sad failings, and often his moral 
 decay. He delights in portraying the baseness 
 of man's lower nature. I, who am the Spirit 
 of the Beautiful, show man's spiritual nature, 
 his loftier sentiments, his struggle and final 
 victory over the enemies of his soul." 
 
 "But," answered Talent, "the hardest part of 
 the mission, which we have taken upon our- 
 selves, will be to make the people appreciate true 
 Art. Many of the unfortunate followers of the 
 times have been fed on the products of the 
 Age and his friends, so long, that they are utterly 
 incapable of appreciating truth or goodness. I 
 fear our cause will meet with but little success." 
 
 Both were silent for a time busily engaged in 
 
 [156] 
 
pondering on the hopelessness of their mission. 
 
 Suddenly they were startled to see before 
 them a being clad in snow white garments, who 
 looked at them kindly and said: 
 
 "I am the Spirit of Religion. I am the ex- 
 pression of God's love for creatures. I stand as 
 mediator between the Creator and His creatures, 
 and show man his duties towards the all-wise 
 God, Who made him. The present age seeks 
 to crush me under foot. It tries to ignore Him, 
 Whom I represent, and consequently it scorns 
 me also. The present age seeks its happiness 
 in the transient things of earth, which are here 
 today and gone tomorrow. The soul of man, 
 the image of the Maker, is forgotten or ignored. 
 The essence of all that is worth while in life, is 
 cast aside. 
 
 "Without the benign influence of Religion, 
 the world goes on in darkness, sinking lower 
 and lower each year, inventing new forms of 
 idle amusements and artificial joys, in a vain 
 effort to still the craving for peace in the soul. 
 These joys last but for a day, and the restless 
 worldling is never at ease. Without my guid- 
 ance and direction, Art, the one boon which 
 makes this 'vale of tears' a trifle less dreary and 
 desolate, becomes the victim of Materialism and 
 Sensuality and is finally sacrificed on the altar 
 
 [157] 
 
of Greed to furnish a flickle public with mo- 
 mentary pleasure. 
 
 "Without Religion, life is one long period of 
 desolation, with no star shining above, to cheer 
 man on his journey, with no flower blooming 
 on his path, with no ray of sunshine to dispel 
 the chilling gloom pressing down upon him. 
 The man with no religion has nothing to live 
 for, and nothing to die for. 
 
 "Now my children, Talent and Beauty, you j 
 who represent man's choicest gifts in the fine j 
 arts, you who stand for intellectual excellence 
 and spiritual magnificence, you have a sacred 
 mission to perform. Upon you rests the re- 
 sponsibility of teaching the world what God 
 means by 'ART.' You must go forth and rescue 
 the race from the subtle influence of the Age, 
 and teach it, once more, the meaning of Truth, 
 Beauty and Goodness, the Breath of Immortal- 
 ity. 
 
 "Remember this, that the world will never 
 return to a proper realization of Art, whether 
 it be in drama, music, painting, sculpture, liter- 
 ature or anything else, until it returns to the 
 practice of religion. Without it there can be 
 no inspiration to higher things. Without it Art 
 can never be more than a hideous phantom, the 
 plaything of perverted minds. Go forth, then, 
 
 [158] 
 
my children, and preach your lesson, and may 
 the GREAT ARTIST of NATURE be your in- 
 spiration, — and your guide." 
 
 Having given his message, the Spirit of Re- 
 ligion departed from the youth and maiden, 
 leaving them to ponder on his words. Here was 
 the answer to their difficulty. They must take 
 Religion as their inspiration, motive and final 
 goal. And in the heart of each was formed a 
 firm resolution to remain faithful to the mission 
 to which they had pledged themselves. Faith, 
 hope and charity, those sweet spirits of a higher 
 world, entered their souls; faith in the great 
 Creator and His help, hope that their mission 
 would be successful, and charity towards the 
 Divine Lover, Who loved men so much; and 
 towards His poor misguided creatures for whom 
 they were to labor; creatures who, in spite of 
 their fraility, were nevertheless images of the 
 Maker. , ] 
 
 And so must we recognize the influence of 
 the Spirit of Religion. Even as Talent and 
 Beauty saw and understood, that Religion makes 
 all things worth while, and gives to life and 
 labor a meaning, so we too must see and under- 
 stand this lesson, and must harden not our 
 hearts, when Religion would give us its sweet 
 message. 
 
 [159] 
 
THE TRIUMPH OF ART 
 
THE TRIUMPH OF ART 
 
 Artist! blessed with the rarest gifts of Nature, thou 
 on whom depends the production of the book, the play, the 
 picture and the song; look for thy inspiration above the 
 sordid depths of material things; seek thy motives in the 
 brightness and sweetness of the spiritual, in the exquisite 
 beauty of the soul, in the sublime image of the Divine. 
 
 — The Author. 
 
 Shortly after the events just narrated Talent 
 started out for the home of Beauty. She lived in 
 the lovely valley of Contentment, not far from 
 Talent's own temporary dwelling in the valley of 
 Reflection. The locality in which Beauty dwelt 
 was endowed by Nature with the most exquisite 
 charms imaginable. Beauty lived with her 
 mother, Prudence, in a dainty little cottage at the 
 foot of the mountain. It was a fitting habita- 
 tion for such a lovely creature. 
 
 Nature's handiwork in the pretty valley of 
 Contentment had not been disturbed by either 
 mother or daughter. They had not destroyed 
 the beauty of the landscape to erect artificial 
 things which a modern civilization demanded. 
 Nature held sway there, and peace and quiet 
 reigned supreme, uninterrupted save by the chirp 
 
 [163] 
 
of a bird or the gay laughter of the happy little 
 maiden who called this her home. 
 
 Talent was delighted with the pleasant valley 
 of Contentment and especially with the fair 
 maiden, Beauty, whom he had loved at first sight. 
 She was different than all the rest of the young 
 ladies he had met. He contrasted her with the 
 two fickle daughters of the Age. How different 
 they were! They were selfish, worldly, lazy, 
 frivolous and inconsiderate. She on the other 
 hand was his ideal in everything; humble, pru- 
 dent, industrious, talented and a lover of the 
 spiritual. He thought she was the most wonder- 
 ful being on earth and he loved her tenderly. 
 
 Nor could Beauty conceal her admiration and 
 affection for the gifted Talent. He seemed to her 
 the personification of uprightness, honesty, pur- 
 ity and nobility. He too was different than the 
 young men of her acquaintance, vastly different 
 from the men in Temptation City, Hypocrisy, 
 Sensuality, Materialism and Intemperance. He 
 was a model young man and she idolized him. 
 
 Talent soon became a regular caller at the 
 little house of Beauty, and there began a de- 
 lightful time of courtship. Would that I had 
 the time to relate the pleasant meetings of these 
 two children of Nature. These two creatures in 
 whom the image of the Maker shone forth in all 
 
 [164] 
 
its brilliance, these two innocent young people 
 whom God had chosen to carry the message of 
 true Art to a perverted race, these two gifted 
 beings loving the same noble objects and cherish- 
 ing the same high ideals, these two must needs 
 have fallen in love with each other. It seemed 
 as if they had been made for one another, and 
 so when Talent some time later asked the gentle 
 maiden to become his bride, she blushingly con- 
 sented. 
 
 A few months later a quiet wedding was cele- 
 brated in the little parish church. The good 
 priest whom I have called Spirit of Religion per- 
 formed the ceremony, and he knew better than 
 anyone present how wonderful are the ways of 
 Providence, who had brought these two souls 
 together that they might start their sacred work 
 for the rejuvenation of a fallen Art. 
 
 As soon as the simple festivities of the wedding 
 were over, Talent and Beauty set to work on the 
 masterpiece, which was to teach men the great 
 lesson of God's goodness, the production which 
 was to revive man's taste for true Art. It was 
 to be both literature and music, both art and 
 drama, combining, as Talent had seen it in his 
 dream, the gifts of both. Talent wrote the story 
 which was then adapted to the stage. Beauty 
 composed the music to accompany this play, 
 
 [165] 
 
painted suitable scenes, and designed the cos- 
 tumes. Both labored for many months to com- 
 plete the spectacle. Nothing in this world can 
 be obtained without effort, and the more excel- 
 lent the thing is which we seek, the greater will 
 be the necessity for earnest and persevering 
 labor. These artists realized this and exerted 
 themselves to the utmost to produce a real 
 masterpiece. 
 
 At length the great play was completed and 
 arrangements for its presentation were under 
 way. It was to be given under the management 
 of an old friend of the parish priest in a new 
 theatre in Temptation City. The public was in- 
 formed of the venture through proper advertise- 
 ments, and all the details for its presentation 
 were arranged. Talent had not visited the fam- 
 ous metropolis since the night when he rushed 
 away from Pleasure and hurried off to the moun- 
 tains. Now in company with his young wife he 
 returned to witness the first performance of their 
 masterpiece. 
 
 The Spirit of the Age and his assistants had 
 gone on producing their nonsense and filth for 
 the public, and had grown wealthier and bolder 
 each week, for the public was willing to pay for 
 anything that suited their depraved taste. The 
 Age and his family had kept themselves well in- 
 
 [166] 
 
formed about the activities of Talent after his 
 sudden departure from their home. They had 
 heard of his sojourn in the valley of Reflection 
 and of his marriage to Beauty. Later came the 
 news also of his new play, which if successful 
 would mean the end of their own illegitimate 
 trade in base productions. Their anger and dis- 
 appointment knew no bounds, and they deter- 
 mined to exert all their forces to defeat the new 
 venture. 
 
 After a consultation with his advisers, chief 
 among which were Materialism, Realism and 
 Sensuality, the Age determined to give the public 
 a new play on the same night which marked the 
 first performance of Talent's production. It was 
 to be given in the Temple of the Times theatre 
 right across the street from the New Theatre in 
 which "The Triumph of Art" was presented. 
 The Age would, as he said, draw the crowds to 
 his own spectacle and defeat the plans of Talent. 
 He meant to make evil triumph over good. 
 
 The spectacle which the Age had chosen to run 
 in competition with our hero's play was called 
 "The Triumph of Mammon." It was a musical 
 comedy of the lowest type, a despicable combina- 
 tion of immoral scenes, dances and music. It 
 was the most daring thing of its kind that had 
 ever been flaunted in the face of decency. It was 
 
 [167] 
 
impossible to call the thing Art, yet it was "what 
 the people want;" it was the kind of entertain- 
 ment which the Age had taught the people to 
 love. With this hideous performance going on 
 across the street from where the new play of 
 Talent was presented the Age hoped to crush his 
 nephew and ruin all hope of future success for 
 his mission. 
 
 The time came for the performances to begin. 
 The fickle pleasure-loving element, by far in the 
 majority, rushed to the "Temple of the Times" 
 to see the play of the Age. Inside all was gay 
 and bright. No money had been spared to make 
 the play a most elaborate presentation. Music, 
 scenic effects, lights, costumes and all the neces- 
 sary details helped to make this play most pleas- 
 ing to the patrons. Baseness was the secret of 
 success in the production. The immense audi- 
 ence seemed delighted and applauded uproari- 
 ously, as one abominable scene followed the 
 other. Life was at its height. The Age had given 
 the public his "masterpiece." 
 
 Quite a different sight met the spectator's eyes 
 across the street at the New Theatre, where a 
 real work of Art was being given to the public. 
 The play, called "The Triumph of Art" was a 
 pleasant spectacle of Nature in communion with 
 its God. The scenery was not painted in gaudy, 
 
 [168] 
 
artificial colors, but was modest, natural, and 
 pleasing to the eye. The music was not sugges- 
 tive, syncopated strains, but low, sweet and 
 melodious, stirring one's very soul and lifting it 
 to higher things. Its characters were not repre- 
 sented as debased and degraded human beings, 
 but as high-minded, noble men and women who 
 reflected the image of the Divine. Its theme, was 
 not a false improbable story appealing to the 
 sordid imaginations of a perverted people, but 
 the simple story of Man's struggle toward per- 
 fection, and the triumph of his better self. 
 
 "The Triumph of Art" represented the eternal 
 struggle between good and evil forces, from 
 which the good finally emerged, victorious. It 
 represented vice, but did not idealize it. Vice 
 was shorn of its glamour and grandeur, and 
 made to look ugly. One could not help but hate 
 it from the picture drawn. Goodness was not 
 silly and sentimental but strong and noble. The 
 play was a spectacle which "left no bad taste in 
 the mouth" so to say, but which was bound to 
 elevate the mind to higher things. It undoubtedly 
 made the audience better men and women *f or 
 having witnessed it. The few that attended on 
 that first night, though they could hardly be sud- 
 denly transformed in one night, nevertheless 
 saw the vast difference between this performance 
 
 [169] 
 
and those of the Age. The ugly spectacles pre- 
 sented in the Temple of the Times appeared all 
 the more revolting when contrasted with this 
 elevating drama. Gradually the audience saw 
 and understood the message of Nature, the mean- 
 ing of Art, and they resolved never more to 
 patronize the productions of Age. 
 
 Let us now return to the orgy of the Age on 
 the other side of the street. The greatest scene 
 of the play, depicting the feast of Mammon, was 
 just being presented. It was the wildest riot of 
 sensuality and debauchery ever depicted on any 
 stage. Suddenly in the midst of the scene, there 
 occurred a terrible explosion on the stage which 
 shook the very foundations of the huge building 
 and scattered pieces of burning debris in all 
 directions. It seemed as if outraged Nature had 
 avenged this insult to Art. Most of the perform- 
 ers were horribly burnt before they could look 
 for a place of escape. The rest of the house was 
 turned into a pandemonium of struggling human 
 beings making a desperate fight to reach the ex- 
 its. Everything was forgotten save the one de- 
 sire to extricate themselves from this fiery fur- 
 nace. Great throngs of people were crushed and 
 suffocated at the doors, others met their deaths 
 in the ravaging flames, which soon enveloped the 
 whole place. 
 
 [170] 
 
The proud uncle of Talent, the Spirit of the 
 Age who had occupied a box during the play, at 
 the first alarm attempted to pass out with the 
 crowd, but the congestion at the exits prevented 
 his escape. Seeing no means of egress he turned 
 back into the fiery furnace, and being shortly 
 overcome by smoke he fell to the floor sur- 
 rounded on every side by the human wrecks 
 whom he had perverted. The mob in its frenzy 
 trampled on him and the raging flames of Retri- 
 bution claimed him if or their own. The walls 
 had been so weakened by the fearful explosion 
 that very soon after the first wild cry of alarm, 
 the Temple of the Times collapsed and buried 
 the unfortunate inmates beneath the ruins. 
 
 The Age had given the public his final spectacle. 
 He had prepared for them the most exciting ex- 
 hibition he could invent, but he had not reckoned 
 that Providence could provide one still more ex- 
 citing, fearful beyond description. He had in- 
 tended the play to be a comedy — Providence had 
 turned it into a tragedy. All his life the Age had 
 perverted the public taste. All his life he had fed 
 the people intellectual poison and moral filth. 
 He had destroyed their ideals and their concep- 
 tions of true Art, and always had his excuse 
 been, "the people want it." Now both he and 
 his colleagues, the originating spirits, and they, 
 
 [171] 
 
the unfortunate dupes lay side by side under the 
 ruins of the Temple of the Times. 
 
 The terrible calamity Which had brought to 
 such an abrupt ending the "Triumph of Mam- 
 mon" made a marked impression on the rest of 
 the people of Temptation City. Those who had 
 been spared began to thank God for His mercy 
 and to look about them again for a trace of the 
 old faith which they had spurned. Frequently 
 a catastrophe such as this is necessary to awaken 
 the public conscience. People began to see the 
 error of their ways and repentence followed. 
 They sought once more the religion of their fore- 
 fathers, which had not exerted any influence on 
 their lives for so many years. With this reform 
 came also the return of love and admiration for 
 real Art, such as expressed by the wonderful 
 play of Talent and Beauty. Gradually the crowds 
 turned away from the salacious dramas and 
 turned to the New Theatre, and after that the 
 house was filled at every performance. 
 
 Slowly too the Spirit of Religion, the zealous 
 parish priest, who had given our hero and hero- 
 ine such encouragement before their great ven- 
 ture, began to exercise a wider and more marked 
 influence upon the people. Many of them re- 
 turned to the saving faith and eagerly sought the 
 help and guidance of the prudent priest, whom 
 
 [172] 
 
they had formerly despised. The effect of this 
 return to the old faith was noticeable in every 
 phase of the city's life, but particularly in the 
 fine arts. The public had to be prepared for a 
 spectacle like the one Talent and Beauty had 
 brought there. Now that the city had reformed, 
 the play proved to be what the name implied — 
 "The Triumph of Art." New and hitherto un- 
 heard-of artists sprang up, for they felt that their 
 efforts would now be appreciated. Art, the ex- 
 pression of Nature, the breath of the Divine, be- 
 came the watchword of the day. Talent and 
 Beauty who had inaugurated this reformation in 
 artistic productions, looked upon the result with 
 the greatest satisfaction, inwardly thanking God 
 for this triumph. 
 
 The transformation in the city of Temptation 
 was complete and permanent. The name of the 
 city was changed to Victory, and ever after it 
 proved to the world that it had won the greatest 
 "victory" possible over the Spirits of the Age, 
 Materialism, Irreligion, and Atheism. In front 
 of the court house the citizens erected a huge 
 granite slab with the following inspiring words 
 inscribed, as a message to every young man and 
 woman who chanced to pass: 
 
 The best law — the golden rule. 
 The best education — self-knowledge. 
 [173] 
 
The best statesmanship — self-government. 
 The best engineering — a bridge of faith over the river of 
 death. 
 
 There is little more to tell. Talent took his 
 wife and went back to the little village of Tran- 
 quility, the town of his birth. Joyful indeed was 
 the meeting between the parents, Toil and Self- 
 Sacrifiee, and their son. They were very proud 
 and happy that their only son had proved him- 
 self every inch a man, that he had been faithful 
 to their admonitions, and worthy of the love and 
 devotion they had bestowed upon him. They 
 also admired and loved the charming young wif e 
 of Talent, for her good qualities were many, and 
 the prudent parents knew she would make an 
 admirable life mate. 
 
 In the peaceful little village of Tranquility, 
 Talent and his wife, Beauty took up their abode, 
 where they lived for many a day in contentment 
 and bliss, loving all and beloved by all. Neither 
 did they give up the noble work they had begun. 
 They continued to produce literary and dramatic 
 productions, artistic and musical masterpieces, 
 giving the public very frequently a new work of 
 Art. Each product of their brains was as a ser- 
 
 [174] 
 
mon from on High, a mesage of love, mercy, 
 consolation, verily a breath of the Divine. 
 
 Beautiful eyes are those that show 
 Beautiful thoughts that burn below; 
 Beautiful lips are those whose words 
 Leap from the heart like songs of birds; 
 Beautiful hands are those that do 
 Work that is earnest and brave and true, 
 Moment by moment the whole day through. 
 
 — Selected. 
 
 Beauty is the mark God sets on virtue. Every 
 natural action is graceful. Every heroic action 
 is also decent and causes the place and the by- 
 standers to shine. 
 
 — R. W. Emerson. 
 
 [175] 
 
CONCLUSION 
 
CONCLUSION 
 
 Love aids the Jiero, bids ambition rise 
 To nobler heights, inspire immortal deeds, 
 E'en softens brutes, and adds a grace to virtue. 
 
 — Thompson. 
 
 Now this story would not be complete if I did 
 not tell you what happened finally to the various 
 characters. 
 
 The Spirit of the Age and his colleagues, Ma- 
 terialism and the rest, met their deaths in the 
 terrible conflagration which destroyed the Tem- 
 ple of the Times theatre, and marked the be- 
 ginning of a new era in Temptation City. It was 
 fitting that these evil geniuses should meet their 
 end in the last exhibition of Godlessness which 
 their diseased minds had invented. It was neces- 
 sary for the complete transformation of the city 
 that these evil spirits be forever destroyed. 
 
 Laxity, the wife of the Age, whom we remem- 
 ber as the foolish indulgent mother of the way- 
 ward cousins of Talent, only realized in her old 
 age her grave responsibility toward her children. 
 Then it was too late. She died in despair vainly 
 trying to correct the morals of her children, 
 which all her life she had quietly ignored. In 
 
 [179] 
 
the end she had not even a home, for the world- 
 ly children cast her off and she became destitute 
 and heartbroken. 
 
 The children, as you no doubt remember, were 
 the Spirit; of Self, Hypocrisy, Sensuality, Intem- 
 perance, Frivolity and Pleasure, none of whom 
 made a success of life ,even as the world sees it. 
 
 Self, who had never done a kind act to anyone 
 without receiving a reward, he who had observed 
 but one creed, that of Self above all, even after 
 all his solicitude for a succesful career, met re- 
 verses in business and became destitute. As he 
 could claim no friends, he became a beggar, and 
 at the end of his life he was very glad to receive 
 a bite to eat from the very people whom he had 
 formerly scorned. 
 
 Sensuality who had lived only to satsify his 
 lower desires, was punished by Nature as he de- 
 served. He contracted a loathesome disease, 
 later became insane and died in miserable agony 
 in an asylum. He who violates Nature's sacred 
 laws, invariably suffers for his crimes even in 
 this life. 
 
 Hypocrisy learned to his bitter regret that the 
 world in time refused to be deceived, and as soon 
 as he appeared in his true colors he lost his posi- 
 tion in society and his business. He died in 
 obscurity. 
 
 [180] 
 
Intemperance who made the wine cup his God, 
 descended the ladder of respectability by leaps 
 and bounds, until he became nothing but a com- 
 mon "drunk." Finally after engaging in a 
 drunken brawl with a companion, he shot him, 
 and ended his miserable existence behind prison 
 bars. 
 
 The daughters of this unfortunate family did 
 little better than their brothers. Frivolity mar- 
 ried a husband as idle and fickle as herself, and 
 neither understood nor cared for the duties and 
 obligations of married life. Death found her in 
 an idle amusement, and her aimless existence 
 ended without a thought of future retribution. 
 
 Pleasure, whose one aim had been to enjoy 
 herself also married, but her life was not happy. 
 Her spells of melancholy and depression became 
 longer as time went on, and her life was marked 
 by frequent visits to the divorce court. Her 
 various husbands added no comfort or love or 
 happiness to her life. 
 
 Now for the brighter side of my story — 
 
 The good priest, Spirit of Religion continually 
 
 widened his influence. Converts flocked to him 
 
 by the hundreds and received his kindly advice 
 
 and salutary ministrations. People, who for 
 
 [181] 
 
years had lived in Temptation City with never a 
 thought of their Creator or their duties toward 
 Him, now returned to the saving faith, and soon 
 there was again "one flock and one shepherd." 
 
 Toil and Self-Sacrifice, the loving parents of 
 our hero, lived to a good age, happy and con- 
 tented with the thought that they had done their 
 duty. They were proud of their son, and justly 
 so, for he had shown himself to be one among 
 many, a leader among men, and they were large- 
 ly responsible for his good deeds. They died in 
 peace with God and man. 
 
 Talent and Beauty lived for many years in the 
 peaceful little village of Tranquility, performing 
 their God-given labors and affecting much good. 
 God blessed their union with sons and daughters, 
 whom they raised and educated in the fear and 
 love of the Creator. They gave to the world 
 many literary and dramatic productions as well 
 as numerous works of Art in painting and music. 
 
 Finally in their old age, Talent and Beauty 
 staged a revival of the famous play with which 
 they had opened their sacred mission in the field 
 of Art, namely "The Triumph of Art." 
 
 The revival of this great masterpiece was an 
 event that will always be remembered by the 
 good people. It was carefully recorded in the 
 annals of the city. At the end of its presenta- 
 
 [182] 
 
tion, Talent and Beauty, now growing old, were 
 asked to appear on the stage, and after each had 
 spoken a few appropriate words to the enthusi- 
 astic audience, Talent responded to the generous 
 encore by relating the story of his silver chest 
 and the motto he had chosen for himself through 
 life. The inspiration and guidance which he had 
 received from the encouraging lines of the poet 
 were bequeathed to the rising generation of the 
 time. Talent said: 
 
 "Let each young man and woman in this city 
 take as his or her motto the gem, which proved 
 so beneficial to me: 
 
 "To thine own self be true 
 And it must follow, as the night the day, 
 Thou canst not then be false to any man." 
 "And," he continued, "to accompany my legacy 
 to the world of Art, my literary and dramatic 
 productions, and those of my dear wife, Beauty, 
 in the fields of painting and music, allow me to 
 bestow also these touching words of the poet: 
 
 Lift, Christian, lift thine eyes 
 
 To thy home beyond the skies 
 Eternal bliss awaits thee there, 
 
 With which earth's joys cannot compare. 
 
 And later on, when both Talent and Beauty 
 had gone to the great Beyond, to receive the re- 
 
 [183] 
 

 ward "which God has prepared for those who 
 love Him," the people honored their memory by 
 erecting a worthy monument. The sight of this 
 substantial mark of the people's gratitude and 
 esteem, kept their memory green, and their 
 names revered. The people, too, remained faith- 
 ful to the lofty and sublime lessons, which Tal- 
 ent and Beauty had taught. 
 
 The most fitting expression of regard for these 
 gifted artists, was the well-chosen inscription 
 carved on the monument: 
 
 A good book, a beautiful picture, or a sweet song is the 
 precious life-blood of a master-spirit, embalmed and treas- 
 ured up on purpose to a life beyond life. — Milton. 
 
 The End. 
 
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