This is but too true of a
number of subjects.
We fondly believe our opinions and convictions to be original, and
with innocent conceit, imagine that we have formed them for
ourselves. The illusion of being unlike other people is a common
vanity. Beware of the man who asserts such a claim. He is sure to
be a bore and will serve up to you, as his own, a muddle of ideas
and opinions which he has absorbed like a sponge from his
surroundings.
No place is more propitious for studying this curious phenomenon,
than behind the scenes of a theatre, the last few nights before a
first performance. The whole company is keyed up to a point of
mutual admiration that they are far from feeling generally. "The
piece is charming and sure to be a success." The author and the
interpreters of his thoughts are in complete communion. The first
night comes. The piece is a failure! Drop into the greenroom then
and you will find an astonishing change has taken place. The Star
will take you into a corner and assert that, she "always knew the
thing could not go, it was too imbecile, with such a company, it
was folly to expect anything else." The author will abuse the Star
and the management. The whole troupe is frankly disconcerted, like
people aroused out of a hypnotic sleep, wondering what they had
seen in the play to admire.
In the social world we are even more inconsistent, accepting with
tameness the most astonishing theories and opinions.
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