Thyrsis

“ And in it he had set forth the view of life that had come to him—
“The quest of the spirit’s gain— Lured by the graces of pleasure, And lashed by the furies of pain. Thy weakness shall sigh for an Eden, But the sword shall flame at the gate; For far is the home of thy vision And strong is the hand of thy fate!”
Section 13. Though Thyrsis had no time to realize it, it was in this long and bitter struggle that he won whatever power he had in his future life. It was here that he learned “to hold his will above him as his law”, and to defy the world for the sake of his ideal. ”

“ This was a golden hour in Thyrsis’ life. The gates of wonder were flung open, and all things were touched with a new and mystic glow. He scarcely realized it at the time; for once he was too much moved to think about his own emotions, the artist was altogether lost in the man. Even the room in which he lodged was relieved of its sordidness; it was a thing that men had made, and so a part of the mystery of becoming. He yearned for some one to whom he could impart his great emotion; but because of the loneliness of his life he could find no one but the keeper of his lodging-house. ”

“ I can’t bear it! No, Thyrsis—no!”
But he answered her, “Be still! I love you! You are mine.” And for every sob and every shudder and every moan of fear he had but one response—“I love you! You are mine!”
He knew that he loved her now—and he knew what his love meant. Before this they had been strangers; but now he would penetrate to the secret places, to the holy of holies of her being.
Never in all his life had Thyrsis known woman. To him woman had been the supreme mystery of life, a creature of awe and sacredness—not to be handled, scarcely even to be thought about. ”

“ It was so that he wrote his poem, “Caradrion”. It was out of thoughts of Corydon, and of the tears which they shed in each other’s presence, that this poem was made. Thyrsis had a fondness for burrowing into strange old books, in which one found the primitive wonder of the soul of man, first awakening to the mystery of life. ”

“ Then came Delia. She would not admit that her faith depended upon texts and legends; it was a faith in the living God. She was not afraid of reason—she did not outrage it—
“But you do, you do!” cried Thyrsis. “Your whole attitude is an outrage to it! You never speak of ‘science’ except as an evil thing. You told Corydon that ‘evolution’ was wicked!”
“I don’t see how evolution can help my faith”—began the other.
“That’s just it!” cried Thyrsis again. “That is exactly what I mean! You do not pay homage to truth, you do not seek it for its own sake! ”

“ Meantime Thyrsis was over at his own place, wrestling with the book again. He had told himself that it would be easy, now that he was free from the money-terror. But alas, it was not easy, and nothing could make it easy. If he had more energy, it only meant that his vision reached farther, and set him a harder task. Never in his life did he write a book, the last quarter of which was not to him a nightmare labor. He would be staggering, half blind with exhaustion—like a runner at the end of a long race, with a rival close at his heels. ”

“ Thyrsis received a couple of letters at the same time as the telegram, and he took the next train for the city. It is said that a drowning man sees before him in a few moments the panorama of his whole life; but to Thyrsis were given three hours in which to recall the events of his love for Corydon. He had every reason to believe that he would find her dying; and such pangs of suffering as came to him he had never known before. He was in a crowded car, and he would not shed a tear; but he sat, crouched in a heap and staring before him, fairly quivering with pent-up and concentrated grief. ”

“ It was about here that a strange adventure came to him. It was midwinter, and he went out, long after midnight, to walk in a beautiful garden. A dry powdery snow crunched beneath his feet, and overhead the stars gleamed and quivered, so bright that he felt like stretching out his hands to them. The world lay still, and awful in its beauty; and here suddenly, unsuspected—unheralded, and quite unsought—there came to Thyrsis a strange and portentous experience, the first of his ecstasies. ”

“ A feeling of awe stole over Thyrsis as he watched her—a feeling the like of which he had never known in his life before. She was a creature consecrated, made holy by suffering; she was the sacredness of life incarnate, a thing godlike, beyond earth. It came as a revelation, changing the whole aspect of life to him. It was hard to realize—that woman, woman who endured this, was the same being that he had met in the world all his life—laughing and talking, careless and commonplace. ”

“ He climbed the mountains and yelled with the mad wind, and tramped through the bare, rocking forest, singing his minstrel songs. And all these days he walked with God, and there was no world at all save the world of nature. Millions of young-hearted things sprang up out of the ground to welcome him; the forests shook out their dazzling sheen, and the wild birds went mad in the mornings. All the time Thyrsis was writing, writing—thrilling with his ecstasy, and pouring out all his soul. ”

“ SYLVIA.
What reason had he to suspect their truth?
DAPHNE.
What? didst thou never hear what Thyrsis wrote
In love's delirium, on Lycoris' eyes?
When the poor shepherd, stung to amorous frenzy,
Roamed through the lonely woods, to feed his passion,
Object of pity to the nymphs, and swains:
And so extravagant his passion was,
Their pity was accompanied with mirth.
But his warm verse was not ridiculous.
I read the lines myself, which he had written
On many a tree; and with the trees they grew.
"Destructive eyes, false mirrors of her heart! ”

“ Ardsley had been reading all Thyrsis’ manuscripts, nor had he failed to note the triumph of “The Genius” abroad. It became at once apparent to Thyrsis that the new book had scored with him; it was a book that could hardly fail, he said—if only it were finished as it had been begun. Thyrsis made it clear that he intended to finish it; no man could gaze into his wild eyes, and hear him talk of it in breathless excitement, without realizing that he would die, if need be, rather than fail. ”

“ They were swung from one extreme to the other, from certitude to doubt, from joy to dismay and despair. And so, day after day they would sit and talk, for uncounted hours. Corydon would come to the little cabin, or Thyrsis would come to the village, and they would wander about the roads or the woods, forgetting their meals, forgetting all the world. Once they wandered away into the mountains, and they sat until the dusk closed round them; they were almost lost that night.
“Of course,” Thyrsis had been saying, “we should not be married like other men and women.” ”

“ That was the burden which this gift laid upon Thyrsis. He soon discovered that these visions of wonder came but once, and that when they were gone, they were gone forever. And he must learn to grapple with them as they fled, to labor with them and to hold them fast, at the cost of whatever heartbreaking strain. Thus alone could men have even the feeblest reflexion of their beauty—upon which to feed their souls forever after. ”

“ Thyrsis was under the necessity of sweeping clean his soul, because of all the luxury and wantonness he saw in this metropolis, and the madness to which it goaded his soul. Some day fame would come to him, he knew—wealth also, perhaps; and oh, there must be one man in all the city who was not corrupted, who did not learn extravagance and self-indulgence, who practiced as well as preached the life of faith! And so, again and again, he and Corydon would renew the pledges of their courtship-days—pledges to a discipline of Spartan sternness. ”

“ Thyrsis, from much work and little sleep, was haggard and wild of aspect; the cry of the world, “Take a position!” rang in his ears day and night. The springs of book-reviews had dried up entirely, and by sheer starvation he was forced to a stage lower yet. A former college friend was editing a work of “contemporary biography”, and offered Thyrsis some hack-writing. It meant the carrying home of huge bundles of correspondence from the world’s most brightly-shining lights, and the making up of biographical sketches from their eulogies of themselves. ”

“ Must they not all know that he was a failure—that most worthless of all worthless creatures, the man who cannot support his family? What did it mean to them if he had written masterpieces of literature—what would it avail with them that he was the bearer of a new religion! Thyrsis had heard too much of the world’s opinion of him; he shrunk from contact with his fellow-creatures, reading an insult into every glance. He was like a dog that has been too much beaten, and cringes even before it is struck.
Section 5. But these thoughts were for himself; he did not whisper them to Corydon. ”

“ So Thyrsis once more was a field of warring motives; once more he faced the curse of his life—that he could not be as other men, he could not have other men’s virtues. It was the latest aspect, and the most tragic, of that impulse in him which had made him fight so hard against marriage; which had made him quote to Corydon the lines of the outlaw’s song—
“The fiend whose lantern lights the mead Were better mate than I!” ”

“ Sometimes as he read these manuscripts, a shudder would come over Thyrsis; how they made him realize the odds in the game of life! These thousands and tens of thousands panting and striving for success; and he lost in the throng of them! What madness it seemed to imagine that he might climb over their heads—that he had been chosen to scale the heights of fame! Their letters and prefaces sounded like a satire upon his own attitude, a reductio ad absurdum of his claims to “genius”. ”

“ And this new Lord, who had purchased the people, and held them in bond, was extracting a toll of suffering and privation, of accident and disease and death, that was worse than the agony of many wars. The whole land was groaning and sweating beneath the burden of it; and Thyrsis, who shared the pain, and knew the meaning of it, was sick with the responsibility it put upon him, yearning for a thousand voices with which he might cry the truth aloud.
Some one must bring America face to face with its soul again ”

“ And it was not until an hour or two later that Thyrsis made the horrible discovery that the photograph of Corydon which had stood upon his bureau was standing upon his bureau no longer!
So next morning, there were their two photographs upon the second page of the ‘Morning Howl’, and a two-column headline:
“YOUTHFUL GENIUS OFFERS HIMSELF FOR SALE!”
Thyrsis rushed through this article, writhing with horror and dismay. The woman had made him into what they called a “human interest” feature. ”

“ And she smiled, and quoted some lines from the poem—
“Thou too, O Thyrsis, on like quest wast bound; Thou wanderedst with me for a little hour! Men gave thee nothing; but this happy quest, If men esteem’d thee feeble, gave thee power, If men procured thee trouble, gave thee rest!”
Section 1. This illness of the baby’s had been a fearful drain upon their strength; and Thyrsis perceived that they had now got to a point where they could no longer stand alone. There must be a servant in the house, to help Corydon, and do for the baby what had to be done. ”

“ There was a pause.
“What’s the matter with Corydon, anyway?” demanded the doctor.
“She’s so young!” cried Thyrsis.
“Nonsense! She’s nineteen now, isn’t she? And she couldn’t be in better condition.”
“But she’s so undeveloped—mentally, I mean.”
“There’s nothing in the world will develop her like maternity. And can’t you see that she wants the baby?”
“Wants it!” shouted Thyrsis.
“Why, of course! She’s dead in love with you, boy. And she wants the baby! Why shouldn’t she have it?”
“If I could only make you understand—” protested Thyrsis, feebly.
“Yes!” exclaimed the doctor. ”

“ Harding had had an argument, in which Thyrsis had remarked casually that modern civilization was “crucifying Jesus all over again.” And when Mr. Harding asked for enlightenment, Thyrsis answered, “My dear man, we crucify him according to the constitution. We teach the profession of crucifying him. We invest our capital in the business of crucifying him. We build churches and crucify him in his own name!”
After which explosion Corydon said, “You let me attend to Mr. Harding. I understand him, and how he feels about things.” ”

“ Thyrsis had often quoted a saying of Emerson’s, that “people descend to meet.” And when one was married did not one have to descend all the time?
He reasoned the matter out to himself. It was not Corydon’s fault, he saw clearly; it would have been the same had he married one of the seraphim. He did not want to live the life of any seraph—he wanted to live his own life. And was it not obvious that the mere physical proximity of another person kept one’s attention upon external things? Was not one inevitably kept aware of trivialities and accidents? ”

“ There was one more night to be sat through and Thyrsis, whose restless intellect must needs be dealing with all issues, had by then fought his way through this terror also. They must get control of themselves at all hazards, he said; they must face the facts. ”