PAGE 11
The Experiences Of The A. C.
by
—-“Oh, Mr. Johnson,” interrupted Mrs. Billings, “it wasn’t for the fish!”
“Of course not,” said her husband; “it was for my sake.”
“No, you need not think it was for you. Enos,” she added, perceiving the feminine dilemma into which she had been led, “all this is not necessary to the story.”
“Stop!” he answered. “The A. C. has been revived for this night only. Do you remember our platform, or rather no-platform? I must follow my impulses, and say whatever comes uppermost.”
“Right, Enos,” said Mr. Johnson; “I, as temporary Arcadian, take the same ground. My instinct tells me that you, Mrs. Billings, must permit the confession.”
She submitted with a good grace, and her husband continued:
“I said that our lazy life during the hot weather had become a little monotonous. The Arcadian plan had worked tolerably well, on the whole, for there was very little for any one to do–Mrs. Shelldrake and Perkins Brown excepted. Our conversation, however, lacked spirit and variety. We were, perhaps unconsciously, a little tired of hearing and assenting to the same sentiments. But one evening, about this time, Hollins struck upon a variation, the consequences of which he little foresaw. We had been reading one of Bulwer’s works (the weather was too hot for Psychology), and came upon this paragraph, or something like it:
“`Ah, Behind the Veil! We see the summer smile of the Earth– enamelled meadow and limpid stream,–but what hides she in her sunless heart? Caverns of serpents, or grottoes of priceless gems?
Youth, whose soul sits on thy countenance, thyself wearing no mask, strive not to lift the masks of others! Be content with what thou seest; and wait until Time and Experience shall teach thee to find jealousy behind the sweet smile, and hatred under the honeyed word!’
“This seemed to us a dark and bitter reflection; but one or another of us recalled some illustration of human hypocrisy, and the evidences, by the simple fact of repetition, gradually led to a division of opinion–Hollins, Shelldrake, and Miss Ringtop on the dark side, and the rest of us on the bright. The last, however, contented herself with quoting from her favorite poet, Gamaliel J. Gawthrop:
“‘I look beyond thy brow’s concealment!
I see thy spirit’s dark revealment!
Thy inner self betrayed I see:
Thy coward, craven, shivering ME!’
“`We think we know one another,’ exclaimed Hollins; `but do we? We see the faults of others, their weaknesses, their disagreeable qualities, and we keep silent. How much we should gain, were candor as universal as concealment! Then each one, seeing himself as others see him, would truly know himself. How much misunderstanding might be avoided–how much hidden shame be removed–hopeless, because unspoken, love made glad–honest admiration cheer its object–uttered sympathy mitigate misfortune–in short, how much brighter and happier the world would become if each one expressed, everywhere and at all times, his true and entire feeling! Why, even Evil would lose half its power!’
“There seemed to be so much practical wisdom in these views that we were all dazzled and half-convinced at the start. So, when Hollins, turning towards me, as he continued, exclaimed–`Come, why should not this candor be adopted in our Arcadia? Will any one– will you, Enos–commence at once by telling me now–to my face–my principal faults?’ I answered after a moment’s reflection–`You have a great deal of intellectual arrogance, and you are, physically, very indolent’
“He did not flinch from the self-invited test, though he looked a little surprised.
“`Well put,’ said he, `though I do not say that you are entirely correct. Now, what are my merits?’
“`You are clear-sighted,’ I answered, `an earnest seeker after truth, and courageous in the avowal of your thoughts.’
“This restored the balance, and we soon began to confess our own private faults and weaknesses. Though the confessions did not go very deep,–no one betraying anything we did not all know already,–yet they were sufficient to strength Hollins in his new idea, and it was unanimously resolved that Candor should thenceforth be the main charm of our Arcadian life. It was the very thing I wanted, in order to make a certain communication to Eunice; but I should probably never have reached the point, had not the same candor been exercised towards me, from a quarter where I least expected it.