“Yes, that is my intention,” said Christian, “I have had enough of it. I did suppose I could keep it up longer, but I find that my constant incognito wearies me; it seems discreditable to a man of my real character. I must find the means of travelling without begging. I have already devoted much thought to this subject—it is a great problem to a man without means. A person who lives in one place can always find work; he who desires to move about, finds it difficult to do so, nowadays. In ancient times, M. Goefle, to travel was to make conquest of the earth for the good of humanity; it was recognized as a high mission, as the vocation of superior minds. The traveller, accordingly, was a sacred being in the eyes of all people. They greeted his arrival with respect, and resorted to him for news of other countries, and of the general progress of humanity. At present, if the traveller has not sufficient means of his own, he must become either a beggar, a thief, or a strolling player.”
“Why do you use such a contemptuous term?” said M. Goefle; “the object of the actor (I should prefer to call him interpreter, since his object is to interpret works of the imagination) is to lead men’s minds away from the merely practical; and since the majority of our stupid race are essentially prosaic, and absorbed in their material interests, the tyrants who govern public opinion discourage both poets and their interpreters. If they dared, they would still more emphatically discourage preachers, who speak to them of heaven, and religion, which wars against selfish passions, and is, in fact, a system of idealism. No one objects to idealism when presented as a revealed truth, for no one dares. But it is promptly rejected when it only says, ‘I come to demonstrate to you the beautiful and good, by means of symbols and fables.’”
“And yet,” said Christian, “the sacred books are full of apologues. It is the preaching suited to an age of faith and simplicity. But it does not seem to me, M. Goefle, that the cause of the prejudice is exactly where you have placed it, or if it be, it is only in virtue of a fact to which I would draw your attention. The actor has no real connection with the rest of society. He does nothing intrinsically useful as an actor, and men’s valuations of each other are based upon an exchange of services intrinsically useful. Remember, all the other professions are intimately concerned with the destiny of every individual in society, even that of the priest; for even to infidels he is still an official indispensable to their civic state. Other professional persons are each, at one time or another, the hope or support of every man. To the physician, he looks for health; the lawyer represents the gaining of his cause; the speculator is to give him a fortune; the tradesman provides him provisions; the soldier protects him; the scientific man promotes the success of his business by making discoveries; the professor of any of the branches of human knowledge is ready to instruct him for some employment or other; the actor alone discourses upon all subjects, but supplies him with nothing—unless it be good advice, which the auditor had to pay for at the door, when he could have given it to himself gratis.”
“Well, well!” cried M. Goefle, “what are you quibbling about, then? We agree perfectly—you are only proving what I said. The vulgar always despise imagination and sentiment.”
“Not exactly that, M. Goefle. It is unfruitful sentiment—unproductive imagination—which they despise! There is a good deal of justice in the opinion of the bourgeois, who might say to the actor, ‘You discourse to me about virtue, love, devotion, reason, courage, happiness! Yes, for that is your trade; but since this is all you can do, you must not object to being set down by me as an idle babbler. If you are anything more, come down from your platform, and help me to arrange my own affairs as well as you arrange the plots of your plays. Cure my gout; gain my lawsuit; enrich my firm; marry my daughter to the man she loves; find a good position for my son-in-law. If you can’t do any of these things, make me a pair of shoes, pave my court-yard. Do something or other to earn the money I have paid you.’”
“And you conclude from this?” said M. Goefle.
“I conclude that every one ought to have an employment in which he can be directly useful to others; and that the prejudice which prevails against actors will cease at once, when theatres shall be free institutions, and when all persons of ability and dramatic gifts shall be prepared to do their part as actors for the love of art, whenever they may be called upon, whatever may be their usual occupation.”
“Well, anyhow, that is a dream that goes far beyond any of my paradoxes.”
“I don’t deny it; but nobody believed in the existence of America two hundred years ago; and it is my opinion that in two hundred years more, we shall see things far more extraordinary than we dream of now in our wildest imaginings.”
This conclusion reached, the friends drank the remainder of the punch, and Christian would have taken leave of M. Goefle, who seemed inclined to go and dance a courante at the new chateau with the young officers. However, the doctor of laws would not part from his young friend, who was really in need of rest; and after having agreed to meet next day, or rather the same day, for it was now two o’clock in the morning, the party went in search of their respective vehicles.