The triumph of art; an allegory

Dedication

To my dear parents, who have always sought to teach me how to love and seek the true, the good and the beautiful in life; who have done their utmost to give me a proper realization of the fatal materialism and rationalism of the age; who have urged me to keep literature, music and drama, what God meant it to be, the expression of all that is lofty and noble in man — to those loving souls — Father now gone to his reward, and Mother constant and unfailing adviser — this humble effort is tenderly dedicated by the author.

Sioux Falls, S. D.

January, 1922.

Foreword

My purpose in writing this short allegory is suggested in the dedication, namely to give my readers in story form a true picture of the sad condition of things in the field of art and literature at the present time. ART, I BE- LIEVE, IS THE EXPRESSION OF MAN'S SOUL IN TERMS OF TRUTH AND BEAUTY, the message of the Divine speaking in Nature, voicing itself in literature, drama, painting, sculpture and music — in short in anything which man calls a fine art.

At the present time men have either never known or have forgotten the true principles and purpose of art. The age of Materialism, Commercialism and Irreligion disregards all the fine qualities of this God-given blessing; it disregards the truths and beauties, which alone can make art sublime and noble, and lead men's souls to higher things, and thus makes of art a mockery. Instead of artistic and aesthetic masterpieces today we are greeted everywhere with literary and dramatic trash, dramas utterly devoid of anything inspiring and ennobling, cubist and futurist daubings called art; ragtime and jazz atrocities called music, and instead of being despised by a sane and healthy-minded people with rational souls, these things are welcomed and enjoyed by a public whose taste is rapidly becoming perverted.

I have always had a great love for literary and dramatic work, and have since my earliest childhood admired music, painting and sculpture. I am therefore shocked to see the sad condition of affairs in the world today. I am shocked to see the progress the Bolshevist element is making, and I determined to do my "bit" to help check it. I regret that I have not the literary ability or picturing power of a master. If I had, I would seek to preach this message to all mankind, young and old, so that everyone would be taught; that I would be able to crush with one blow the debasing power and influence of the spirit of the age.

The matter I present is above your criticism, for it is the unchangeable doctrine of truth. The manner in which I present it — O, let that be beneath your criticism!

I have given you my message in story form so that it will interest even the young folks. The characters are named for the forces they represent in life. You have met everyone of them. They come into each one's life sooner or later, as they have into mine.

My most earnest wish is that this humble attempt to express my inmost thoughts may bear at least some fruit, that some of my readers will understand more clearly the evil influences of the age in which we live, and that they will be led to search for true art at all times, so that the Spirit of Nature and the sweet and wholesome Inspiration of Religion may triumph as they do in my little story. If this humble effort accomplishes something in this direction, I shall feel very happy in knowing that I have performed a good work in the interest of true Art. May she ever remain a pure, undefiled gift of Nature to gladden and elevate the hearts of men!

—The Author.

Contents

Talent— Our Hero.

The Spirit of the Age.

The Spirit of Self.