226
Henri Beyle
breaks gently, Ischia is in sight. The ices are excellent.” The
last touch seems to me deliciously characteristic. What is more
subtle to a man whose whole life is an experiment in taste, what
more suggestive, what more typical, than an ice ? There is a per-
vading delight in it, in the unsubstantiality, the provokingness, the
refinement of it. “ In the boxes, toward the middle of the
evening, the cavaliere servante of the lady usually Orders some ices.
There is always some wager, and the ordinary bets are sherbets,
which are divine. There are three kinds, gelati, crepe and
pezzidiere. It is an excellent thing to become familiär with. I
have not yet determined the best kind, and I experiment every
evening.” Do not mistake this for playfulness. The man who
cannot take an ice seriously cannot take Stendhal sympathetically.
Such, in the rough, is the point of view of this critic of character
and of art. Of course the value of judgments from such a man in
such an attitude is dependent entirely on what one seeks from
criticism. Here is what Stendhal hopes to give : “ My end is to
make each observer question his own soul, disentangle his own
manner of feeling, and thus succeed in forming a judgment for
himself, a way of seeing formed in accord with his own character,
his tastes, his ruling passions, if indeed he have passions, for
unhappily they are necessary to judge the arts.” The word
“ passion,” here as elsewhere, is not to be given too violent a
meaning. cc Emotion ” would do as well—sincere personal feeling.
That there is no end of art except to bring out this sincere
individual feeling is his ultimate belief. He is fond of the story
of the young girl who asked Voltaire to hear her recite, so as to
judge of her fitness for the stage. Astonished at her coldness,
Voltaire said : “ But, mademoiselle, if you yourself had a lover
who abandoned you, what would you do ? ” “ I would take
another,” she answered. That, Stendhal adds, is the correct point
of
Henri Beyle
breaks gently, Ischia is in sight. The ices are excellent.” The
last touch seems to me deliciously characteristic. What is more
subtle to a man whose whole life is an experiment in taste, what
more suggestive, what more typical, than an ice ? There is a per-
vading delight in it, in the unsubstantiality, the provokingness, the
refinement of it. “ In the boxes, toward the middle of the
evening, the cavaliere servante of the lady usually Orders some ices.
There is always some wager, and the ordinary bets are sherbets,
which are divine. There are three kinds, gelati, crepe and
pezzidiere. It is an excellent thing to become familiär with. I
have not yet determined the best kind, and I experiment every
evening.” Do not mistake this for playfulness. The man who
cannot take an ice seriously cannot take Stendhal sympathetically.
Such, in the rough, is the point of view of this critic of character
and of art. Of course the value of judgments from such a man in
such an attitude is dependent entirely on what one seeks from
criticism. Here is what Stendhal hopes to give : “ My end is to
make each observer question his own soul, disentangle his own
manner of feeling, and thus succeed in forming a judgment for
himself, a way of seeing formed in accord with his own character,
his tastes, his ruling passions, if indeed he have passions, for
unhappily they are necessary to judge the arts.” The word
“ passion,” here as elsewhere, is not to be given too violent a
meaning. cc Emotion ” would do as well—sincere personal feeling.
That there is no end of art except to bring out this sincere
individual feeling is his ultimate belief. He is fond of the story
of the young girl who asked Voltaire to hear her recite, so as to
judge of her fitness for the stage. Astonished at her coldness,
Voltaire said : “ But, mademoiselle, if you yourself had a lover
who abandoned you, what would you do ? ” “ I would take
another,” she answered. That, Stendhal adds, is the correct point
of