out after
something better than their surroundings, striving after an ideal, and
are in just so much the superiors of the foolish souls who mock
them--better, even misguided efforts, than the ignoble stagnant quagmire
of slouch into which we seem to be slowly descending.

No. 9--Social Suggestion

The question of how far we are unconsciously influenced by people and
surroundings, in our likes and dislikes, our opinions, and even in our
pleasures and intimate tastes, is a delicate and interesting one, for the
line between success and failure in the world, as on the stage or in most
of the professions, is so narrow and depends so often on what humor one's
"public" happen to be in at a particular moment, that the subject is
worthy of consideration.

Has it never happened to you, for instance, to dine with friends and go
afterwards in a jolly humor to the play which proved so delightful that
you insist on taking your family immediately to see it; when to your
astonishment you discover that it is neither clever nor amusing, on the
contrary rather dull. Your family look at you in amazement and wonder
what you had seen to admire in such an asinine performance. There was a
case of suggestion! You had been influenced by your friends and had
shared their opinions. The same thing occurs on a higher scale when one
is raised out of one's self by association with gifted and original
people, a communion with more cultivated natures which causes you to
discover and appreciate a thousand hidden beauties in literature, art or
music that left to yourself, you would have failed to notice. Under
these circumstances you will often be astonished at the point and
piquancy of your own conversation. 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