One day, in his enthusiasm, Charley, the millionaire Bohemian, proposed to take him to America to give lectures on “The Artistic Atmosphere”—by Jove!
“Are there any cafés in America?” Socrate asked.
“Hélas, non!”
“Then I stay where I am,” replied Socrate, the man of manly decisions; “when America has cafés I’ll go over—not before. Arrangez-vous!”
“You’re great, by Jove!” cried Charley.
Socrate dazzled the young. He talked of everything, social questions included.
“The distribution of wealth is badly made,” he said. “You have genius and no money—and you’ll be obliged to work, to produce and to sell! To sell, do you understand? To cheapen yourself, to prostitute your genius! In society as I dream of it, the artist, freed from material bonds, would soar in serene heights.”
Socrate at Deux Magots