THE WORLD AND THE THREE ARTISTS
Three Artists found a World on their hands. It was their World and they were its Artists.
It was a Dull World, and needed Amusement.
It was a Hungry World, and needed Food.
It was a Tired World, and needed Inspiration.
It was an Ugly World, and needed Beauty.
Now the Artists were very powerful, having all these things in their gift.
The first was an Artist Pure and Simple, so he arose and gave the Dull
World what he himself found amusing,—but the World was not amused.
“Stupid Beast!” said the Artist. “When I am dead it will find my work amusing!”
Then he gave the Hungry World what he thought good to eat,—but the
World would not eat it.
“Ungrateful Wretch!” said the Artist. “When I am dead it will find this good food.”
Then he gave the Tired World what he thought was Inspiration,—but the
World was not Inspired.
“Dense Dolt!” said the Artist. “When I am dead it will recognize my
Inspiration.”
Then he gave the Ugly World what he thought was Beauty,—but the World did not find it Beautiful.
“Blind Brute!” said the Artist. “How terrible it is to be unappreciated! This Fool Incarnate can never realize what it is ignoring! And it will give me no reward! When I am dead it will see my Beauty!”
Now the World had its feelings, and did not enjoy the attitude of the Artist; so verily it gave him no reward. And he died. Nevertheless what he foretold was by no means fulfilled, for his work was for himself alone, and perished with him.
Then arose the second Artist, and he was not only an Artist, but a
Merchant.
And he said, “I perceive that this my brother has died because he did not please the World, and it would give him no reward. I shall be wiser.”
Then he studied the tastes of the World; Dull, Hungry, Tired and Ugly; a
Neglected Child.
And he carefully catered to its ignorance, its prejudices and its childish tastes; he tickled with cheap pleasures, he gave it what its lower nature liked, and the Dull World found his Amusement amusing, and paid for it; and the Hungry World found his food palatable, and paid for it; and the Tired World received his Inspiration as if it were genuine, and paid for it; and the Ugly World eagerly grasped his poor prettiness as if it were Beauty, and paid for it; so the second Artist did not die—until he died; and then he was dead; and his work with him.
But the third Artist, who was also a Citizen, thought long of his task.
“I am an Artist,” he said, “and this is my World. Of what avail is my Beauty if the World does not see it? How do I know that Worlds to Come will see it?—even if it lives? This World needs Beauty, now! If I work to express myself alone, I die, lean and angry; and my work dies with me. If I basely cater to this Neglected Child, I die, though fatter; and my work dies with me. How shall I feed the World?”
But he was an Artist, and very powerful, so he essayed his task.
He earnestly studied the needs of the World. “Shall I feed a lamb on beef?” said he, “or a cat on pie?”
By the exercise of his intelligence he learned the needs of the World, which were many and conspicuous; by the exercise of his Art he met them.
He gave it Amusement which was within reach of the tastes of that
Neglected Child, yet which was in truth Amusing; and the World was
Amused, and loved him.
He gave it food both palatable and nourishing; and the World was fed, and loved him.
He gave it Inspiration which struck to the heart, yet was drawn from
Eternal Truth; and the World was Inspired, and loved him.
And he poured forth his very soul in Beauty; Beauty as simple as the common flowers the whole world loves, and as true as the stars in heaven, Beauty that ravished the soul of the Neglected Child, opened its eyes to Radiant Joy, and lifted it along the ages. And the World bathed in Beauty, and loved him. Also its taste improved continually under the influence of his Art. And the Artist was happy, for he fulfilled his mighty task.
“My glorious World!” he said; “What happiness! To be allowed to serve the World!”
And he watched it grow; well-nourished now, full of sweet merriment, strong in steady inspiration, rich in unfolding beauty.
For the World lived, and the Artist lived, and his work lived forever,—in the world.