Whatever were the reasons, either
inseparable from him, or special in each case, it's certain that his
affairs did not thrive, with the exception of those in which he played
the merely mechanical part of a drudge under the orders, and for the
profit, of Mr. Bagley. As for bad luck, the name was, in effect,
equivalent to the thing itself, for it cut him out of many opportunities
in the theatrical market, with people not above the superstitions of
their guild; also it produced in him a discouragement, a
self-depreciation, which kept the quality of his work down to the level
of hopeless hackery. For yielding to this influence; for stooping, in his
necessity, to the service of Bagley, who had wronged him; for failing to
find a way out of the slough of mediocre production, poor pay, and
company inferior to him in mind, he began to detest himself.
"He had never been a conceited man, but he could not have helped
measuring his taste and intellect with those of average people, and he
had valued himself accordingly. Another circumstance had forced him to
think well of himself. On his trip to Europe he had met--I needn't say
more; but to have won the regard of a woman herself so admirable was
bound to elevate him in his own esteem. This event in his life had roused
his ambition and filled him with hope. It had made him almost forget, or
rather had braced him to battle confidently with, his demon of reputed
bad luck. You can imagine the effect when the stimulus, the cause of
hope, the reason for striving, was--as he believed--withdrawn from him.
Pages:
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181