ght.

Asceticism is often only a form of sensuality: the man finds satisfaction
in overcoming the flesh. And wherever you find asceticism you find
potential passion--a smoldering volcano held in check by a devotion to
duty; and a gratification is oft found in fidelity.

The moral and religious poems of Burns were written in a desire to work
off a fit of depression, and make amends for folly. They are sincere and
often very excellent. Great preachers have often been great sinners, and
the sermons that have moved men most are often a direct recoil from sin on
the part of the preacher. Remorse finds play in preaching repentance. When
a man talks much about a virtue, be sure that he is clutching for it.
Temperance fanatics are men with a taste for strong drink, trying hard to
keep sober. The moral and religious poems of Robert Burns are not equal to
his love-songs. The love-songs are free, natural, untrammeled and
unrestrained; while his religious poems have a vein of rotten warp running
through them in the way of affectation and pretense. From this I infer
that sin is natural, and remorse partially so. In Burns' moral poems the
author tries to win back the favor of respectable people, which he had
forfeited. In them there is a violence of direction; and all violence of
direction--all endeavors to please and placate certain people--is fatal to
an artist. You must work to please only yourself.

Work to please yourself and you develop and strengthen the artistic
conscience. Cling to that and it shall be your mentor in times of doubt:
you need no other. There are writers who would scorn to write a muddy
line, and would hate themselves for a year and a day should they dilute
their honest thought with the platitudes of the fear-ridden. Be yourself
and speak your mind today, though it contradict all you have said before.
And above all, in art, work to please yourself--that Other Self that
stands over and behind you, looking over your shoulder, watching your
every act, word and deed--knowing your every thought. Michelangelo would
not paint a picture on order. "I have a critic who is more exacting than
you," said Meissonier--"it is my Other Self."

Rosa Bonheur painted pictures just to please her Other Self, and never
gave a thought to any one else, nor wanted to think of any one else, and
having painted to please herself, she made her appeal to the great Common
Heart of humanity--the tender, the noble, the receptive, the earnest