第1章
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  Contents:

  TheSpiritofPlaceMrs。DingleySolitudeTheLadyoftheLyricsJulyWellsTheFootHavePatience,LittleSaintTheLadiesoftheIdyllADerivationACounterchangeRainLettersofMarcelineValmoreTheHoursofSleepTheHorizonHabitsandConsciousnessShadowsTHESPIRITOFPLACE

  Withmimicry,withpraises,withechoes,orwithanswers,thepoetshaveallbutoutsungthebells。Theinarticulatebellhasfoundtoomuchinterpretation,toomanyrhymesprofessingtoclosewithherinaccessibleutterance,andtoagreewithherremotetongue。Thebell,likethebird,isamusicianpesteredwithliterature。

  Tothebell,moreover,mendoactualviolence。Youcannotshaketogetheranightingale’snotes,orstrikeordrivethemintohaste,norcanyoumakealarktollforyouwithintervalstosuityourturn,whereaswedding-bellsarecompelledtoseemgaybymeremovementandhustling。Ihaveknownsomegrimbells,withnotasinglejoyousnoteinthewholepeal,soforcedtohurryforahumanfestival,withtheirharshnessmadelightof,asthoughtheBishopofHerefordhadagainbeenforcedtodanceinhisbootsbyamerryhighwayman。

  Theclockisaninexorablebutlessarbitraryplayerthanthebellringer,andthechimesawaittheirappointedtimetofly——wildprisoners——bytwosorthrees,oringreatercompanies。Fugitives——

  oneortwelvetakingwing——theyaresudden,theyarebrief,theyaregone;theyaredeliveredfromtheclosehandsofthisactualpresent。Notinvainisthesuddenupperdooropenedagainstthesky;theyareaway,hoursofthepast。

  Ofallunfamiliarbells,thosewhichseemtoholdthememorymostsurelyafterbutonehearingarebellsofanunseencathedralofFrancewhenonehasarrivedbynight;theyarenomoretobeforgottenthanthebellsin\"Parsifal。\"Theyminglewiththesoundoffeetinunknownstreets,theyarethevoicesofanunknowntower;

  theyareloudintheirownlanguage。Thespiritofplace,whichistobeseenintheshapesofthefieldsandthemannerofthecrops,tobefeltinaprevalentwind,breathedinthebreathoftheearth,overheardinafarstreet-cryorinthetinkleofsomeblack-smith,callsoutandpealsinthecathedralbells。Itspeaksitslocaltongueremotely,steadfastly,largely,clamorously,loudly,andgreatlybythesevoices;youhearthesoundinitsdignity,andyouknowhowfamiliar,howchildlike,howlifelongitisintheearsofthepeople。Thebellsarestrange,andyouknowhowhomelytheymustbe。Theirutterancesare,asitwere,theclassicsofadialect。

  Spiritofplace!Itisforthiswetravel,tosurpriseitssubtlety;andwhereitisastronganddominantangel,thatplace,seenonce,abidesentireinthememorywithallitsownaccidents,itshabits,itsbreath,itsname。Itisrecalledallalifetime,havingbeenperceivedaweek,andisnotscatteredbutabides,onelivingbodyofremembrance。Theuntravelledspiritofplace——nottobepursued,foritneverflies,butalwaystobediscovered,neverabsent,withoutvariation——lurksintheby-waysandrulesoverthetowers,indestructible,anindescribableunity。Itawaitsusalwaysinitsancientandeagerfreshness。Itissweetandnimblewithinitsimmemorialboundaries,butitnevercrossesthem。Longwhiteroadsoutsidehavemeresuggestionsofitandprophecies;theygivepromisenotofitscoming,foritabides,butofanewandsingularandunforeseengoalforourpresentpilgrimage,andofanintimacytobemade。Waseverjourneytoohardortoolongthathadtopaysuchavisit?Andifbygoodfortuneitisachildwhoisthepilgrim,thespiritofplacegiveshimapeculiarwelcome,forantiquityandtheconceiverofantiquity(whoisonlyachild)knowoneanother;noristhereamoredelicateperceiveroflocalitythanachild。Heiswellusedtowordsandvoicesthathedoesnotunderstand,andthisisaconditionofhissimplicity;andwhenthoseunknownwordsarebells,loudinthenight,theyaretohimashomelyandasoldaslullabies。

  If,especiallyinEngland,wemakeroughandreluctantbellsgoingaymeasures,whenwewhipthemtorundownthescaletoringinawedding——bellsthatwouldsteptoquiteanotherandalessagilemarchwithabettergrace——therearebelfriesthatholdfarsweetercompanies。IfthereisnomusicwithinItalianchurches,thereisamostcuriouslocalimmemorialmusicinmanyacampanileontheheights。Theirwayisfortheringerstoplayatuneonthefestivals,andthetunesarenothymntunesorpopularmelodies,butproperbell-tunes,madeforbells。Doubtlesstheyweremadeintimesbetterversedthanoursinthesub-divisionsofthearts,andbetterabletounderstandthestrengththatliesreadyinthemerelittlesubmissiontothemeansofalittleart,andtothelimits——

  nay,theveryembarrassments——ofthosemeans。Ifitwerebutpossibletogiveherearealbell-tune——whichcannotbe,forthosemelodiesareratherlong——thereaderwouldunderstandhowsomevillagemusicianofthepastusedhisnarrowmeansasacomposerforthebells,withwhatfreshness,completeness,significance,fancy,andwhateffectofliberty。

  Thesehamlet-bellsarethesweetest,astotheirownvoices,intheworld。ThenIspeakoftheirantiquityIusethewordrelatively。

  Thebelfriesarenoolderthanthesixteenthorseventeenthcentury,thetimewhenItalyseemstohavebeengenerallyrebuilt。But,needlesstosay,thisisantiquityformusic,especiallyinItaly。

  Atthattimetheymusthavehadfoundriesforbellsoftendervoices,andpure,warm,light,andgoldenthroats,preciselytuned。

  ThehoundsofTheseushadnotamorejustscale,tunedinapeal,thanaNorthItalianbelfryholdsinleash。Butitdoesnotsendthemoutinamerescale,ittouchesthemintheorderofthegameofacharmingmelody。Ofallcheerfulsoundsmadebymanthisisbyfarthemostlight-hearted。Youdonothearitfromthegreatchurches。Giotto’scolouredtowerinFlorence,thatcarriesthebellsforSantaMariadelFioreandBrunelleschi’ssilentdome,doesnotringmorethanfourcontraltonotes,tunedwithsweetness,depth,anddignity,andswingingonemusicalphrasewhichsoftlyfillsthecountry。

  Thevillagebelfryitisthatgrowssofantasticandhassuchnimblebells。Obviouslyitstandsalonewithitsownvillage,andcanthereforehearitsowntunefrombeginningtoend。Therearenootherbellsinearshot。Othersuchdovecote-doorsaresuddenlysetopentothecloud,onafestamorning,toletflythosesoft-voicedflocks,butthenearestisbehindoneofmanymountains,andourlocaltuneisuninterrupted。Doubtlessthisiswhythelittle,secluded,sequesteredartofcomposingmelodiesforbells——charmingdivisionofanart,havingitsownendsandmeans,andkeepingitsownwingsforunfoldingbylaw——dwellsinthesesolitaryplaces。Notunesinatownwouldgetthishearing,orwouldbemadecleartotheendoftheirfrolicamidsuchawideandloftysilence。

  NordoeseveryinnervillageofItalyholdabell-tuneofitsown;

  thecustomisLigurian。NowheresomuchasinGenoadoesthenervoustouristcomplainofchurchbellsinthemorning,andinfactheismadetohearanhonestroutofthembetimes。Butthenervoustouristhasnot,perhaps,thesenseofplace,andthegeniusofplacedoesnotsignaltohimtogoandfinditamonginnumerablehills,whereonebyone,onebyone,thebelfriesstandandplaytheirtunes。Variablearethoselonelymelodies,havingadifferinggaietyforthefestivals;andapitifulairisplayedfortheburialofavillager。

  Asforthepoets,thereisbutoneamongsomanyoftheirbellsthatseemstotollwithaspiritualmusicsoloudastobeunforgottenwhenthemindgoesupalittlehigherthantheearth,tolisteninthoughttoearth’suntetheredsounds。ThisisMilton’scurfew,thatswaysacrossoneofthegreatestofalltheseashoresofpoetry——

  \"thewide-watered。\"

  MRS。DINGLEY

  WecannotdoherhonourbyherChristianname。{1}AllwehavetocallherbymoretenderlyisthemereD,theDthattieshertoStella,withwhomshemadethetwo-in-onewhomSwiftloved\"betterathousandtimesthanlife,ashopesaved。\"MD,withoutfullstops,Swiftwritesiteighttimesinalineforthepleasureofwritingit。\"MDsometimesmeansStellaalone,\"saysoneofmanyeditors。

  \"TheletterswerewrittennominallytoStellaandMrs。Dingley,\"

  saysanother,\"butitdoesnotrequiretobesaidthatitwasreallyforStella’ssakealonethattheywerepenned。\"Notso。\"MD\"neverstandsforStellaalone。Andtheeditordoesnotyetlivewhoshallpersuadeonehonestreader,againstthewordofSwift,thatSwiftlovedStellaonly,withanordinarylove,andnot,byamostdelicateexception,StellaandDingley,sojoinedthattheymakethe\"she\"and\"her\"ofeveryletter。AndthisshallbeapaperofreparationtoMrs。Dingley。

  Nooneelseinliteraryhistoryhasbeensodefraudedofherhonours。Inlove\"todivideisnottotakeaway,\"asShelleysays;

  andDingley’shalfofthetenderthingssaidtoMDisequaltoanywhole,andtakesnothingfromthewholeofStella’shalf。ButthesentimentalisthasfoughtagainstMrs。Dingleyfromtheoutset。Hehasdislikedher,shirkedher,misconceivedher,andeffacedher。

  Slysentimentalist——hefindsherirksome。Throughoneofhismostmodernrepresentativeshehasbutlatelycalledhera\"chaperon。\"A

  chaperon!

  MDwasnotasentimentalist。Stellawasnotso,thoughshehasbeenpressedintothatcharacter;Dcertainlywasnot,andhasinthisrespectbeensparedbythechronicler;andMDtogetherwere\"saucycharmingMD,\"\"saucylittle,pretty,dearrogues,\"\"littlemonkeysmine,\"\"littlemischievousgirls,\"\"nautinautinautideargirls,\"

  \"brats,\"\"huzziesboth,\"\"impudenceandsaucy-face,\"\"saucynoses,\"

  \"mydearestlivesanddelights,\"\"dearlittleyoungwomen,\"\"gooddallars,notcryingdallars\"(whichmeans\"girls\"),\"tenthousandtimesdearestMD,\"andsoforthinahundredrepetitions。Theyare,everynowandthen,\"poorMD,\"butobviouslynotbecauseoftheirowncomplaining。Swiftcalledthemsobecausetheyweremortal;andhe,likeallgreatsouls,livedandloved,consciouseverydayoftheprice,whichisdeath。

  Thetwowerejoinedbylove,notwithoutsolemnity,thoughman,withhissummaryandwholesaleready-madesentiment,hasthusobstinatelyputthemasunder。Nowholesalesentimentcandootherwisethanfoolishlyplayhavocwithsucharelation。ToSwiftitwasthemostsecludedthingintheworld。\"Iamwearyoffriends,andfriendshipsareallmonsters,exceptMD’s;\"\"IoughttoreadtheselettersIwriteafterIhavedone。ButIhopeitdoesnotpuzzlelittleDingleytoread,forIthinkImend:butmethinks,\"headds,\"whenIwriteplain,Idonotknowhow,butwearenotalone,alltheworldcanseeus。Abadscrawlissosnug;itlookslikePMD。\"

  Again:\"IdonotlikewomensomuchasIdid。MD,youmustknow,arenotwomen。\"\"GodAlmightypreserveyoubothandmakeushappytogether。\"\"IsayAmenwithallmyheartandvitals,thatwemayneverbeasundertendaystogetherwhilepoorPrestolives。\"

  \"Farewell,dearestbelovedMD,andlovepoor,poorPresto,whohasnothadonehappydaysinceheleftyou,ashopesaved。\"

  Withthem——withher——hehidhimselfintheworld,atCourt,atthebarofSt。James’scoffee-house,whitherhewentontheIrishmail-

  day,andwas\"inpainexcepthesawMD’slittlehandwriting。\"Hehidwiththeminthelonglaboursoftheseexquisiteletterseverynightandmorning。Ifnolettercame,hecomfortedhimselfwiththinkingthat\"hehadityettobehappywith。\"Andtheworldhasagreedtohideunderitsownmanifoldandlachrymoseblundersthegraceandsingularity——thedistinction——ofthissweetromance。

  \"Little,sequesteredpleasure-house\"——itseemedasthough\"themanycouldnotmissit,\"butnoteventhefewhavefoundit。

  ItispartoftheschemeofthesympathetichistorianthatStellashouldbethevictimofhopedeferred,watchingforlettersfromSwift。ButdayandnightPrestocomplainsofthescantinessofMD’slittleletters;hewaitsupon\"her\"will:\"Ishallmakeasortofjournal,andwhenitisfullIwillsenditwhetherMDwritesornot;andsothatwillbepretty。\"\"Naughtygirlsthatwillnotwritetoabody!\"\"Iwishyouwerewhippedforforgettingtosend。

  Go,befarenough,negligentbaggages。\"\"You,MistressStella,shallwriteyourshare,andthencomesDingleyaltogether,andthenStellaalittlecrumbattheend;andthenconcludewithsomethinghandsomeandgenteel,as`yourmosthumblecumdumble。’\"ButScottandMacaulayandThackerayareallexceedinglysorryforStella。

  Swiftismostcharmingwhenheisfeigningtocomplainofhistask:

  \"HereissuchastirandbustlewiththislittleMDofours;Imustbewritingeverynight;OLord,OLord!\"\"Imustgowriteidlethings,andtwittletwattle。\"\"Thesesaucyjadestakeupsomuchofmytimewithwritingtotheminthemorning。\"IsitnotastealthywrongdoneuponMrs。Dingleythatsheshouldbestrippedofalltheseornamentstohernameandmemory?WhenSwifttellsawomaninaletterthatthereheis\"writinginbed,likeatiger,\"sheshouldgogayintheeyesofallgenerations。

  TheywillnotletStellagogay,becauseofsentiment;andtheywillnotletMrs。Dingleygogay,becauseofsentimentforStella。Marrycomeup!Whydidnotthehistoriansassignallthetenderpassages(takenveryseriously)toStella,andletDingleyhavethejokes,then?ThatwouldhavebeennoillshareforDingley。Butno,forsooth,Dingleyisallowednothing。

  Therearepassages,nevertheless,whichcanhardlybetakenfromher。FornowandthenSwiftpartshisdearMD。Whenhedoessoheinvariablydropsthoseinitialsandwrites\"Stella\"or\"Ppt\"fortheone,and\"D\"or\"Dingley\"fortheother。Thereisnoexceptiontothisanywhere。HeisanxiousaboutStella’s\"littleeyes,\"andaboutherhealthgenerally;whereasDingleyisstrong。PoorPpt,hethinks,willnotcatchthe\"newfever,\"becausesheisnotwell;

  \"butwhyshouldDescapeit,pray?\"AndMrs。DingleyisrebukedforhertaleofajourneyfromDublintoWexford。\"Idoubt,MadamDingley,youareapttolieinyourtravels,thoughnotsobadasStella;shetellsthumpers。\"Stellaisoftenreprovedforherspelling,andMrs。Dingleywritesmuchthebetterhand。Butsheisapuzzle-headedwoman,likeanother。\"Whatdoyoumeanbymyfourthletter,MadamDinglibus?DoesnotStellasayyouhadmyfifth,goodyBlunder?\"\"Now,MistressDingley,areyounotanimpudentsluttoexceptaletternextpacket?Unreasonablebaggage!No,littleDingley,Iamalwaysinbedbytwelve,andItakegreatcareofmyself。\"\"Youareapretendingslut,indeed,withyour`fourth’

  and`fifth’inthemargin,andyour`journal’andeverything。O

  Lord,neversawthelike,weshallneverhavedone。\"\"Ineversawsuchaletter,sosaucy,sojournalish,soeverything。\"Swiftisinsistentlygratefulfortheirinquiriesforhishealth。Hepausesseriouslytothanktheminthemidstofhisprattle。Bothwomen——

  MD——areralliedontheirpolitics:\"IhaveafancythatPptisaTory,Ifancyshelookslikeone,andDasortoftrimmer。\"

  ButitisforDingleyseparatelythatSwiftenduredawildbirdinhislodgings。HismanPatrickhadgotonetotakeovertoherinIreland。\"Hekeepsitinacloset,whereitmakesaterriblelitter;butIsaynothing;Iamastameasaclout。\"

  ForgottenDingley,happyinthis,hasnothadtoenduretheignominy,inahundredessays,toberetrospectivelyofferedtoSwiftasanunclaimedwife;sofarsogood。Buttwohundredyearsislongforhertohavegonestrippedofsoradiantagloryasishersbyright。\"Better,thankstoMD’sprayers,\"wrotetheimmortalmanwholovedher,inaprivatefragmentofajournal,nevermeantforDingley’seyes,norforPpt’s,norforanyhumaneyes;andtherogueStellahasfortwocenturiesstolenallthecreditofthoseprayers,andallthethanksofthatpiousbenediction。

  SOLITUDE

  Thewildmanisaloneatwill,andsoisthemanforwhomcivilizationhasbeenkind。Buttherearethemultitudestowhomcivilizationhasgivenlittlebutitsreaction,itsrebound,itschips,itsrefuse,itsshavings,sawdustandwaste,itsfailures;tothemsolitudeisarightforegoneoraluxuryunattained;arightforegone,wemaynameit,inthecaseofthenearlysavage,andaluxuryunattainedinthecaseofthenearlyrefined。Thesehasthemovementoftheworldthrongedtogetherintosomeblindby-way。

  Theirshareintheenormoussolitudewhichisthecommon,unbounded,andvirtuallyillimitablepossessionofallmankindhaslapsed,unclaimed。Theydonotknowitistheirs。Ofmanyoftheirkingdomstheyareignorant,butofthismostignorant。Theyhavenotguessedthattheyownforeverymanaspaceinviolate,aplaceofunhiddenlibertyandofnoobscureenfranchisement。Theydonotclaimeventhesolitudeofclosedcorners,thenarrowprivacyofthelockandkey;norcouldtheycommandsomuch。Forthesolitudethathasaskyandahorizontheyknownothowtowish。

  Itliesinaperpetualdistance。Englandhasleaguesthereof,landscapes,vergebeyondverge,athousandthousandplacesinthewoods,andonupliftedhills。Orrather,solitudesarenottobemeasuredbymiles;theyaretobenumberedbydays。Theyarefreshlyandfreelythedominionofeverymanforthedayofhispossession。Thereislonelinessforinnumerablesolitaries。Asmanydaysasthereareinalltheages,somanysolitudesarethereformen。Thisistheopenhouseoftheearth;nooneisrefused。

  Noristhespaceshortenedorthesilencemarredbecause,onebyone,meninmultitudeshavebeenalonetherebefore。Solitudeisseparateexperience。Nay,solitudesarenottobenumberedbydays,butbymenthemselves。Everymanofthelivingandeverymanofthedeadmighthavehadhis\"privacyoflight。\"

  Itneedsnopark。Itistobefoundinthemerestworkingcountry;

  andathicketmaybeassecretasaforest。Itisnotsodifficulttogetforatimeoutofsightandearshot。Evenifyoursolitudebeenclosed,itisstillanopensolitude,sotherebe\"nocloisterfortheeyes,\"andaspaceoffarcountryoracloudintheskybeprivytoyourhiding-place。Butthebestsolitudedoesnothideatall。

  Thisthepeoplewhohavedriftedtogetherintothestreetslivewholelivesandneverknow。Dotheysufferfromtheirdeprivationofeventhesolitudeofthehiding-place?Therearemanywhoneverhaveawholehouralone。Theyliveinreluctantorindifferentcompanionship,aspeoplemayinaboarding-house,byparadoxicalchoice,familiarwithoneanotherandnotintimate。Theyliveundercarelessobservationandsubjecttoavagabondcuriosity。Theirsistheinvoluntaryandperhapstheunconsciouslosswhichisfutileandbarren。

  Oneknowsthemen,andthemanywomen,whohavesacrificedalltheirsolitudetotheperpetualsocietyoftheschool,thecloister,orthehospitalward。Theywalkwithoutsecrecy,candid,simple,visible,withoutmoods,unchangeable,inaconstantcommunicationandpracticeofactionandspeech。Theirsassuredlyisnobarrenorfutileloss,andtheyhaveaconviction,andtheybestowtheconviction,ofsolitudedeferred。

  Whohaspaintedsolitudesothatthesolitaryseemedtostandaloneandinaccessible?ThereisthelonelinessoftheshepherdessinmanyadrawingofJ。F。Millet。Thelittlefigureisaway,aloof。

  Thegirlstandssowhenthepainterisgone。Shewaitssoonthesunfortheclosingofthehoursofpasture。Millethasherasshelooks,outofsight。

  Now,althoughsolitudeisaprepared,secured,defended,elaboratepossessionoftherich,theytoodenythemselvesthenaturalsolitudeofawomanwithachild。Anewly-bornchildissonursedandtalkedabout,handledandjoltedandcarriedaboutbyaliens,andthereissomuchimportunateservicegoingforward,thatawomanishardlyalonelongenoughtobecomeaware,inrecollection,howherownbloodmovesseparately,besideher,withanotherrhythmanddifferentpulses。Alliscommonplaceuntilthedoorsarecloseduponthetwo。Thisuniqueintimacyisaprofoundretreat,anabsoluteseclusion。Itismorethansinglesolitude;itisaredoubledisolationmoreremotethanmountains,saferthanvalleys,deeperthanforests,andfurtherthanmid-sea。

  Thatsolitudepartaken——theonlypartakensolitudeintheworld——isthePointofHonourofethics。Treacherytothatobligationandabetrayalofthatconfidencemightwellbeheldtobetheleastpardonableofallcrimes。Thereisnoinnocentsleepsoinnocentassleepsharedbetweenawomanandachild,thelittlebreathhurryingbesidethelonger,asachild’sfootruns。Butthefavouritecrimeofthesentimentalististhatofawomanagainstherchild。Herpower,herintimacy,heropportunity,thatshouldbeheraccusers,areheldtoexcuseher。Shegainsthemostslovenlyofindulgencesandthegrossestcompassion,onthevulgargroundsthathercrimewaseasy。

  Lawlessandvainartofacertainkindisapttoclaimto-day,bytheway,somesuchfondlingasaheroineofthedockreceivesfromcommonopinion。Thevainartisthadalltheopportunitiesofthesituation。Hewasmasterofhisownpurpose,suchasitwas;itwashissecret,andthepublicwasnotprivytohisartisticconscience。

  Hedoesviolencetotheobligationsofwhichheisaware,andwhichtheworlddoesnotknowveryexplicitly。Nothingiseasier。Orheislawlessinamoreliteralsense,butonlyhopestheworldwillbelievethathehasawholecodeofhisownmaking。Itwould,nevertheless,belessunworthytobreakobviousrulesobviouslyintheobviousfaceofthepublic,andtoabidethecommonrebuke。

  Ithasjustbeensaidthataparkisbynomeansnecessaryforthepreparationofacountrysolitude。Indeed,tomakethosefarandwideandlongapproachesandavenuestopeaceseemstobeadenialoftheaccessibilityofwhatshouldbesosimple。Astep,apaceorsoaside,isenoughtoleadthither。

  Aparkinsiststoomuch,and,besides,doesnotinsistverysincerely。Inordertofulfiltheapparentprofessionsandtokeepthepublishedpromiseofapark,theownerthereofshouldbealoveroflongseclusionorofaverylifeofloneliness。Heshouldhavegainedthestateofsolitarinesswhichisaconditionoflifequiteunlikeanyother。Thetravellerwhomayhavegoneastrayincountrieswhereanalmostlife-longsolitudeispossibleknowshowinvinciblyapartarethelonelyfigureshehasseenindesertplacesthere。Theirlonelinessisbrokenbyhispassage,itistrue,buthardlysotothem。Theylookathim,buttheyarenotawarethathelooksatthem。Nay,theylookathimasthoughtheywereinvisible。

  Theirun-self-consciousnessisabsolute;itisinthewilddegree。

  Theyaresolitaries,bodyandsoul;evenwhentheyarecurious,andturntowatchthepasser-by,theyareessentiallyalone。Now,nooneeverfoundthatattitudeinasquire’sfigure,orthatlookinanycountrygentleman’seyes。Thesquireisnotalife-longsolitary。Heneverborehimselfasthoughhewereinvisible。HeneverhadtheimpersonalwaysofaherdsmanintheremoterApennines,withablind,blankhutintherocksforhisdwelling。

  MilletwouldnotevenhavetakenhimasamodelforasolitaryinthebrieferandmildersylvansolitudesofFrance。Andyetnothingbutalife-long,habitual,andwildsolitarinesswouldbequiteproportionatetoaparkofanymagnitude。

  Ifthereisalookofhumaneyesthattellsofperpetualloneliness,sothereisalsothefamiliarlookthatisthesignofperpetualcrowds。ItistheLondonexpression,and,initsway,theParisexpression。Itisthequicklycaught,thoughnotinterested,look,thedullbutreadyglanceofthosewhodonotknowoftheirforfeitedplaceapart;whohaveneithertheopensecretnortheclose;noreserve,noneedofrefuge,noflightnorimpulseofflight;nomoodsbutwhattheymaybraveoutinthestreet,nohopeofnewsfromsolitarycounsels。

  THELADYOFTHELYRICS

  Sheiseclipsed,orgone,orinhiding。Butthesixteenthcenturytookherforgrantedastheobjectofsong;shewasaclass,astate,asex。Itwasscarcelynecessarytowastethelyrist’stime——

  timethatwentsogailytometreasnottobrookdelays——inmakingherouttooclearly。Shehadnomoreofwhatlatertimescallindividualitythanhastherose,herrival,herfoilwhenshewaskinder,hersuperiorwhenshewascruel,hereverfreshandeverconventionalparagon。Sheneedednottobedevisedordivined;shewasready。Amerryheartgoesalltheday;thelyrist’snevergrewweary。Honestmennevergrowtiredofbreadorofanyotherdailythingswhereofthesweetnessisintheirownsimplicity。

  Theladyofthelyricswasnotlovedinmortalearnest,andherpunishmentnowandthenforheringratitudewastobetoldthatshewaslovedinjest。Shedidnotlove;herfancywasfickle;shewasnotmovedbylongservice,which,bytheway,wasevidentlytobetakenforgrantedpreciselylikethewholelongpastofadream。

  Shehadnotagoodtemper。Whenthepoetgroansitseemsthatshehaslaughedathim;whenhefloutsher,wemayunderstandthatshehaschiddenherlyristinnotemperateterms。IndoingthisshehassinnednotsomuchagainsthimasagainstLove。Withthatsheisperpetuallyreproved。ThelyristcomplainstoLove,pitiesLoveforherscorning,andthreatenstogoawaywithLove,whoisonhisside。Thesweetestverseistunedtolovewhenthelovedoneprovesworthy。

  Thereisnorecordofsuccessforthispolicy。Shegoesondancingorscolding,asthecasemaybe,andthelyristgoesonboastingofhisconstancy,orsuddenlyrenouncesitforaday。Thesituationhasvariants,butnosurpriseorending。Thelover’sconventionisexplicitenough,butitmightpuzzleareadertoaccountforthelady’s。Prideinherbeauty,atanyrate,ishers——pridesogreatthatshecannotbringherselftoperceivetheshortnessofherday。

  Sheissounobservantastoneedtobetoldthatlifeisbrief,andyouthbrieferthanlife;thattherosefades,andsoforth。

  Nowweneednotassumethattheladyofthelyricseverlived。Buttakingherastheperfectlyunanimousconceptionofthelyrists,howisitshedidnotdiscoverthesethingsunaided?Whydoestheloverinvariablyimagineherwithamindintenselyirritableunderhisownpraiseandpoetry?Obviouslywecannothaveherexplanationofanyofthesematters。Whydothepoetssomuchlamenttheabsenceoftruthinonewhosetruthwouldbeoflittlemoment?Andwhywastheconventionsopleasant,amongallothers,astooccupyawholeage——

  nay,twogreatages——ofliterature?

  Musicseemstobeprincipallyanswerable。Forthelyricsoftheladyare\"wordsformusic\"byagreatmajority。ThereishardlyasinglepoemintheElizabethanSong-books,properlysonamed,thathaswhatwouldinourdaybecalledatoneofsentiment。Musichadnotthenthetoneherself;shewasingenious,andsomustthewordsbe。Shehadtheairofepigram,andanaccuratelydefinitelimit。

  So,too,theladyofthelyrics,whomightbecalledtheladyofthestanzas,sostrictlydoesshegobymeasure。Whensheisquarrelsome,itisbutfuguishness;whenshedances,shedoesitbyacanon。Shecouldnotbutbeperverse,merrilysungtosuchgravenotes。

  Sofixedwasthelawofthisperversitythatnoneinthesong-booksisallowedtobekindenoughfora\"melody,\"exceptoneladyonly。

  Shemaythusderogate,fortheexceedinglyElizabethanreasonthatsheis\"brown。\"Sheisbrownandkind,anda\"sadflower,\"butthesongmadeforherwouldhavebeentooinsipid,apparently,withoutanantithesis。Thefaironeiswarnedthatherdisdainmakesherevenlesslovelythanthebrown。

  Fairasalily,hardtoplease,easilyangry,ungratefulforinnumerableverses,uncertainwiththeregularityofthemadrigal,andinconstantwiththepunctualityofastanza,shehasgonewiththeartsofthatday;andneitherversenormusicwillevermakesuchanotherlady。Sherefusedtoobservethetransiencyofroses;

  sheneverreallyintended——muchasshewasurged——tobeashepherdess;shewasneverpersuadedtomitigateherdress。Inreturn,theworldhasletherdisappear。Shescornedthepoetsuntiltheyturneduponherintheepigramofmanyafinalcouplet;

  andofthesethelasthasbeenlongwritten。Her\"No\"wassettocounterpointinthepart-song,andshefrightenedLoveoutofhersightinaballet。Thoseoccupationsaregone,andthelovelyElizabethanhasslippedaway。Shewassomethinglessthanmortal。

  Butshewhowasmorethanmortalwasmortaltoo。Thiswasnoladyoftheunanimouslyrists,butararevisitantunknowntotheseexquisitelittletalents。Shewasnotsetforsinging,butpoetryspokeofher;sometimeswhenshewassleeping,andthenFletchersaid-

  NonecanrockHeaventosleepbuther。

  Orwhenshewassinging,andCarewrhymed-

  AskmenomorewhitherdothhasteThenightingalewhenMayispast;

  ForinyoursweetdividingthroatShewinters,andkeepswarmhernote。

  Sometimeswhentheladywasdead,andCarew,again,wroteonhermonument-

  Andherethepreciousdustislaid,Whosepurely-temperedclaywasmadeSofinethatittheguestbetrayed。

  ButtherewasbesidesanotherLadyofthelyrics;onewhowillneverpassfromtheworld,buthaspassedfromsong。InthesixteenthcenturyandintheseventeenthcenturythisladywasDeath。Herinspirationneverfailed;notapoetbutfounditasfreshastheinspirationoflife。Fancywasnotquenchedbytheinevitablethoughtinthosedays,asitisinours,andthephraselostnodignitybytheintegrityofuse。

  Toeverymanithappensthatatonetimeofhislife——foraspaceofyearsorforaspaceofmonths——heisconvincedofdeathwithanincomparablereality。Itmightseemasthoughliterature,livingthelifeofaman,underwentthatconvictioninthoseages。Deathwasasoftenonthetonguesofmeninolderages,andoftenerintheirhands,butinthesixteenthcenturyitwasattheirhearts。

  Thediscoveryofdeathdidnotshakethepoetsfromtheircomposure。

  Onthecontrary,theverseisnevermeasuredwithmoremajesticeffectthanwhenitmovesinhonourofthisLadyofthelyrics。SirWalterRaleighisbutajerkywriterwhenheisrhymingotherthings,howeverbitterorhoweversolemn;buthislinesondeath,whicharealsolinesonimmortality,areinfinitelynoble。Theseare,needlesstosay,meditationsupondeathbylawandviolence;

  andsoaretheingeniousrhymesofChidiockTichborne,writtenafterhislastproseinhisfarewelllettertohiswife——\"Now,Sweet-

  cheek,whatislefttobestowonthee,asmallrecompenseforthydeservings\"——andsingularlybeautifulproseisthis。SoalsoareSouthwell’swords。Buttheseareexceptionaldeaths,andmoredramaticthanwasneededtoawakethepoetryofthemeditativeage。

  Itwasdeathastheendofthevisibleworldandoftheidlebusinessoflife——notdeathasapassagenordeathasafearoradarkness——thatwastheLadyofthelyrists。Norwastheirsongoftheactofdying。Withthisamuchlaterandmuchmoretrivialliteraturebusieditself。Thosetwocenturiesfeltwithashockthatdeathwouldbringanend,andthatitsequalitieswouldmakevainthedifferencesofwitandwealthwhichtheytookapparentlymoreseriouslythantousseemsprobable。Theyneverweariedofthewonder。Thepoetryofourdayhasanentirelydifferentemotionfordeathasparting。Itwasnotpartingthatthelyristssangof;itwasthemeresimplicityofdeath。Noneofourcontemporarieswilltakesuchasubject;theyhavenomorethantheordinaryconvictionofthematter。Forthegreattreatmentofobviousthingstheremustevidentlybeanextraordinaryconviction。

  ButwhetherthechiefLadyofthelyricsbethis,orwhethershebetheimplacableElizabethanfeignedbythelove-songs,shehasequallypassedfrombeforetheeyesofpoets。

  JULY

  OnehastheleisureofJulyforperceivingallthedifferencesofthegreenofleaves。Itisnolongeradifferenceindegreesofmaturity,forallthetreeshavedarkenedtotheirfinaltone,andstandintheirdifferencesofcharacterandnotofmeredate。

  Almostallthegreenisgrave,notsadandnotdull。Ithasadarkenedandadailycolour,inmajesticbutnotobviousharmonywithdarkgreyskies,andmightlook,toinconstanteyes,asprosaicafterspringaseleveno’clocklooksafterthedawn。

  Gravityistheword——notsolemnityastowardsevening,normenaceasatnight。ThedaylighttreesofJulyaresignsofcommonbeauty,commonfreshness,andamysteryfamiliarandabidingasnightandday。Inchildhoodweallhaveamoreexaltedsenseofdawnandsummersunrisethanweeverfullyretainorquiterecover;andalsoafarhighersensibilityforAprilandAprilevenings——aheartacheforthem,whichinriperyearsisgraduallyandirretrievablyconsoled。

  But,ontheotherhand,childhoodhassoquicklylearnedtofinddailythingstedious,andfamiliarthingsimportunate,thatithasnogreatdelightinthemeremiddleoftheday,andfeelswearinessofthesummerthathasceasedtochangevisibly。Thepoetryofmeredayandoflatesummerbecomesperceptibletomatureeyesthathavelongceasedtobesated,havetakenleaveofweariness,andcannotnowfindanythinginnaturetoofamiliar;eyeswhichhave,indeed,lostsightofthefurtheraweofmidsummerdaybreak,andnolongerseesomuchofthepastinApriltwilightastheysawwhentheyhadnopast;butwhichlookfreshlyatthedailinessofgreensummer,ofearlyafternoon,ofeveryskyofanyformthatcomestopass,andofthedarkenedelms。

  Notunbelovedisthisserioustree,theelm,withitsleafsittingclose,unthrilled。Itsstaturegivesitadarkgoldheadwhenitlooksalonetoalatesun。Butifonecouldgobyallthewoods,acrossalltheoldforeststhatarenowmeadowlandssetwithtrees,andcouldwalkacountygatheringtreesofasinglekindinthemind,asonewalksagardencollectingflowersofasinglekindinthehand,wouldnottheharvestbeaharvestofpoplars?A

  veritablepassionforpoplarsisamostintelligiblepassion。Theeyesdogatherthem,farandnear,onawholeday’sjourney。Notoneisunperceived,eventhoughgreattimbershouldbepassed,andhill-sidesdenseanddeepwithtrees。Thefancymakesapoplardayofit。Immediatelythecountrylooksalivewithsignals;forthepoplarseverywherereplytotheglance。Thewoodsmaybeallvarious,butthepoplarsareseparate。

  Alltheirmanykinds(andaspens,theirkin,mustbecountedwiththem)shakethemselvesperpetuallyfreeofthemotionlessforest。

  Itiseasytogatherthem。Glancessentintothefardistancepaythemaflashofrecognitionoftheirgentleflashes;andasyoujourneyyouaresuddenlyawareofthemcloseby。Lightandthebreezesareasquickastheeyesofapoplar-lovertofindthewillingtreethatdancestobeseen。

  Nolurkingforthem,noreluctance。Onecouldnevermakeforoneselfanoakdaysowell。Theoakswouldwaittobefound,andmanywouldbemissedfromthegathering。Butthepoplarsarealertenoughforatravellerbyexpress;theyhaveanalarumaloft,anddonotsleep。Fromwithinsomelittlegroveofothertreesasinglepoplarmakesaslightsign;oralongrowofpoplarssuddenlysweepthewind。Theyaresalienteverywhere,andfullofreplies。Theyareasfreshasstreams。

  Itisdifficulttorealizeadroughtwheretherearemanypoplars。

  Andyettheirgreenisnotrich;thecoolesthaveacolourmuchmingledwithacloud-grey。Itdoesbutneedfreshandsimpleeyestorecognizetheirunfadedlife。Whentheothertreesgrowdarkandkeepstill,thepoplarandtheaspendonotdarken——orhardly——andthedeepestsummerwillnotfindadayinwhichtheydonotkeepawake。Nowatersaresovigilant,evenwherealakeisbaretothewind。

  WhenKeatssaidofhisDianthatshefastenedupherhair\"withfingerscoolasaspenleaves,\"heknewthecoolestthingintheworld。Itisacoolnessofcolour,aswellasofaleafwhichthebreezetakesonbothsides——thegreenishandthegreyish。Thepoplargreenhasnoglows,nogold;itisanausterecolour,aslittlerichasthecolourofwillows,andlesssilverythantheirs。

  Thesuncanhardlygildit;buthecanshinebetween。Poplarsandaspensletthesunthroughwiththewind。Youmayhavetheskysprinkledthroughtheminhighmidsummer,whenallthewoodsareclose。

  Sendingyourfancypoplar-gathering,then,youensnarewildtrees,beatingwithlife。Nofisher’snetevertooksuchglancingfishes,nordidthenetofaconstellation’sshapeeverenclosemorevibratingPleiades。

  WELLS

  Theworldatpresentisinclinedtomakesorrymysteriesorunattractivesecretsofthemethodsandsuppliesofthefreshandperennialmeansoflife。Averydullsecretismadeofwater,forexample,andtheplumbersetshissealuponthefloodswherebywelive。Theyarecovered,theyarecarried,theyarehushed,fromthespringtothetap;andwhentheirvoicesarereleasedatlastintheLondonscullery,why,itcanhardlybesaidthatthesongiseloquentofthenaturalsourceofwaters,whetherearthlyorheavenly。Thereisnotoneofthecircumstancesofthiscaptureofstreams——thecompany,thewater-rate,andtherest——thatisnotasignoftheill-luckofmoderndevicesinregardtostyle。Forstyleimpliesacandourandsimplicityofmeans,anaction,agesture,asitwere,inthedoingofsmallthings;itistheignoranceofsecretways;whereasthefinishofmodernlifeanditsneatnessseemtobesecuredbyasystemoflittleshufflingsandsurprises。

  Dress,amongotherthings,isfurnishedthroughoutwithsuchfittings;theyformitsveryconstruction。Styledoesnotexistinmodernarrayings,foralltheirprettinessandprecision,andforallthesuccesses——whicharenottobedenied——oftheirouterpart;

  thehappylittleswaggerthatsimulatesstyleisbutanothersignofitsabsence,beingpreparedbymeredodgesanddexteritiesbeneath,andthetriumphandsuccessofthepresentartofraiment——\"fit\"

  itself——isbuttheresultofamaskedandlurkinglabouranddevice。

  Themastersoffinemanners,moreover,seemtobealwaysawareofthebeautythatcomesofpausingslightlyuponthesmallerandslighteractions,suchasmeanermenareapttohurryoutoftheway。Inaword,theworkman,withhisfinishandaccomplishment,isthedexterousproviderofcontemporarythings;andtheready,well-

  appointed,anddecoratedlifeofalltownsisnowaltogetherinhishands;whereastheartistcraftsmanofothertimesmadeamanifestationofhismeans。Thefirsthidesthestreams,understressandpressure,inpaltrypipeswhichweallmustmakehastetocallupontheearthtocover,andthesecondliftedupthearchesoftheaqueduct。

  Thesearchofeasywaystoliveisnotalwaysoreverywherethewaytougliness,butinsomecountries,atsomedates,itisthesureway。Inallcountries,andatalldates,extremefinishcompassedbyhiddenmeansmustneeds,fromthebeginning,preparetheabolitionofdignity。Thisiseasytounderstand,butitislesseasytoexplaintheill-fortunethatpressesupontheexpertworkman,insearchofeasywaystolive,alltheill-favouredmaterials,makesthemcheapforhim,makesthemserviceableandeffectual,urgeshimtousethem,sealthem,andinterthem,turningthetrimanddullcompletenessouttotheviewofthedailyworld。

  Itisanaddedmischance。Nor,ontheotherhand,isiteasytoexplainthebeautifulgoodluckattendingthesimplerdeviceswhichare,afterall,onlylessexpertwaysoflabour。Inthosehappyconditions,neitherfromthematerial,suggestingtotheworkman,norfromtheworkmanlookingaskanceathisunhandsomematerial,comesafirstproposaltopourincementandmakefasttheunderworld,outofsight。Butfatesparesnotthatsuggestiontotheableandtheunluckyattheirtaskofmakingneatworkofthemeans,thedistribution,thetraffickoflife。

  Thesprings,then,theprofoundwells,thestreams,areofallthemeansofourlivesthosewhichweshouldwishtoseeopentothesun,withtheirwatersontheirprogressandtheirwaytous;but,no,theyarelappedinlead。

  KingPandionandhisfriendslienotunderheavierseals。

  Yetwehavebeendelighted,elsewhere,byopenfloods。Thehiding-

  placethatnatureandthesimplercraftsallottothewatersofwellsare,attheirdeepest,incommunicationwiththeopensky。Noothermineissovisited;forthenoondaysunhimselfisvisiblethere;anditisfinetothinkofthewatersofthisplanet,shallowandprofound,allchargedwithshiningsuns,amultitudeofwatersmultiplyingsuns,andcarryingthatremotefire,asitwere,withintheirunalterablefreshness。Notapoolwithoutthisvisitant,orwithoutpassagesofstars。AsforthewellsoftheEquator,youmaythinkofthemintheirlastrecessesasthedailybathing-placesoflight;aluminousfancyisablesotoscatterfitfulfiguresofthesun,andtoplungetheminthousandswithinthosedeeps。

  Roundimageslieinthedarkwaters,butinthebrightwatersthesunisshatteredoutofitscircle,scatteredintowaves,brokenacrossstones,andrippledoversand;andintheshallowriversthatfallthroughchestnutwoodstheimageismingledwiththemobilefiguresofleaves。Toallthesewaterstheagileairhasperpetualaccess。Notsocangreattownsbewatered,itwillbesaidwithreason;andthisispreciselytheill-luckofgreattowns。

  Nevertheless,therearetowns,not,inasense,sogreat,thathavethegraceofvisiblewells;suchasVenice,whereeverycampohasitscircleofcarvedstone,itsclashingofdarkcopperonthepavement,itssoftkissofthecoppervesselwiththesurfaceofthewaterbelow,andthecheerfulworkofthecable。

  OrtheRomansknewhowtocausethepartedfloodstomeasuretheirplainwiththestrong,steady,andlevelflightofarchesfromthewatershedsinthehillstotheandcity;andhavingthewaterscaptive,theyknewhowtocompelthemtotakepart,byfountains,inthisRomantriumph。Theyhadthewittoboastthusoftheirbrilliantprisoner。

  NonemoresplendidcameboundtoRome,orgracedcaptivitywithamoreinvinciblelibertyoftheheart。Andthecaptivityandtheleapoftheheartofthewatershaveoutlivedtheircaptors。TheyhaveremainedinRome,andhaveremainedalone。Overthemthevictorywaslongerthanempire,andtheirthousandsofloudvoiceshaveneverceasedtoconfesstheconquestofthecoldfloods,separatedlongago,drawnonebyone,alive,totheheadandfrontoftheworld。

  Ofsuchatransitismadenosecret。ItwasthemostmanifestfactofRome。Youcouldnotlooktothecityfromthemountainsortothedistancefromthecitywithoutseeingtheapproachofthoseperpetualwaters——watersboundupondailytasksandminuteservices。

  This,then,wasthestyleofamaster,whodoesnotlapsefrom\"incidentalgreatness,\"hasnomeanprecision,outofsight,topreparethefinishofhisphrases,anddoesnotthinkthemeansandtheapproachesaretobeplottedandconcealed。Withoutanxiety,withouthaste,andwithoutmisgivingareallgreatthingstobedone,andneitherinterruptioninthedoingnorruinaftertheyaredonefindsanythinginthemtobetray。Therewasneveranydisgraceofmeans,andwhentheworldseestheworkbrokenthroughthereisnodisgraceofdiscovery。ThelabourofMichelangelo’schisel,littlemorethanbegun,aRomanstructurelongexposedindisarray——

  uponthesethelightofdaylooksfull,andtheRomanandtheFlorentinehavetheirunrefutedpraise。

  THEFOOT

  Timewaswhennogoodnewsmadeajourney,andnofriendcamenear,butawelcomewasuttered,oratleastthought,forthetravellingfeetofthewayfarerortheherald。Thefeet,thefeetwerebeautifulonthemountains;theirtoilwasthepriceofallcommunication,andtheirrewardthefirstserviceandrefreshment。

  Theywereblessedandbathed;theysuffered,buttheywerefriendswiththeearth;dewsingrassatmorning,shallowriversatnoon,gavethemcoolness。Theymusthavegrownhardupontheirmountainpaths,yetneversohardbuttheyneededandhadthefirstpityandthereadiestsuccour。Itwasnevereasyforthefeetofmantotravelthisearth,shodorunshod,andhisfeetaredelicate,likehiscolour。

  Iftheysufferedhardshiponce,theysufferprivationnow。Yetthefeetshouldhavemoreoftheacquaintanceofearth,andknowmoreofflowers,freshness,coolbrooks,wildthyme,andsaltsandthandoesanythingelseaboutus。Itistheircalling;andthehandsmightbegladtobestrokedforadaybygrassandstruckbybuttercups,asthefeetareofthosewhogobarefoot;andthenostrilsmightbeflatteredtobe,likethem,solongnearmoss。Thefacehasonlynowandthen,foraresting-while,theirprivilege。

  Ifourfeetarenowsoseveredfromthenaturalground,theyhaveinevitablylostlifeandstrengthbytheseparation。Itisonlytheentirelyunshodthathavelivelyfeet。Watchapeasantwhoneverwearsshoes,exceptforafewunkindhoursonceaweek,andyoumayseetheplayofhistalkinhismobilefeet;theybecomeasdramaticashishands。Freshastheair,brownwiththelight,andhealthyfromthefield,notusedtodarkness,notgrowninprison,thefootofthecontadinoisnotabashed。Itisthefootofhighlifethatisprim,andneverliftsaheelagainstitsdullconditions,forithasforgottenliberty。Itismoreactivenowthanitlatelywas——

  certainlythefootofwomanismoreactive;butwhetheronthepedalorinthestirrup,orcladforawalk,orarmedforagame,ordeckedforthewaltz,itisinbonds。Itis,atanyrate,inarticulate。

  Ithasnolongeradistinctanddividedlife,ornonethatisvisibleandsensible。Whereasthewholelivingbodyhasnaturallysuchinfinitedistinctnessthatthesenseoftouchdiffers,asitwere,witheverynerve,andthefingersaresoseparatethatitwasbelievedofthemofoldthateachonehaditsangel,yetthemodernfootis,asmuchaspossible,deprivedofallthatdelicatedistinction:undone,unspecialized,sentbacktolowerformsofindiscriminatelife。Itisasthoughalandscapewithseparatesweetnessineverytreeshouldberudelypaintedwiththeblank——

  blank,notsimple——generalitiesofavulgarhand。Orasthoughoneshouldtakethepleasuresofadayofhappinessinawholesalefashion,not\"turningthehourstomoments,\"whichjoycandotothefullasperfectlyaspain。

  Thefoot,withitsarticulations,issuppressed,anditslanguageconfused。WhenLovelacelikensthehandofAmaranthatoaviolin,andherglovetothecase,hehasatanyrateaglovetodealwith,notaboot。YetAmarantha’sfootisaslovelyasherhand。It,too,hasa\"tenderinward\";nowayfaringwouldevermakeitlookanythingbutdelicate;itsarchseemstooslighttocarryherthroughanightofdances;itdoes,infact,butbalanceher。Itisfittoclingtotheground,butratherforspringingthanforrest。

  And,doubtless,forman,woman,andchildthetender,irregular,sensitive,livingfoot,whichdoesnotevenstandwithallitslittlesurfaceontheground,andwhichmakesnobasetosatisfyanarchitecturaleye,is,asitwere,theunexpectedthing。Itisapartofvitaldesignandhasahistory;andmandoesnotgoerectbutatapriceofwearinessandpain。Howweakitismaybeseenfromafootprint:fornothingmakesamorehelplessandunsymmetricalsignthandoesanakedfoot。

  Tender,too,isthesilenceofhumanfeet。Youhavebuttopassaseasonamongstthebarefootedtofindthatman,who,shod,makessomuchado,isnaturallyassilentassnow。Woman,whonotonlymakesherarmedheelheard,butalsogoesrustlinglikeashower,isnaturallysilentassnow。Thevintagerisnotheardamongthevines,northeharvesteronhisthreshing-floorofstone。Thereisakindofsimplestealthintheircomingandgoing,andtheyshowsuddensmilesanddarkeyesinandoutoftherowsofharvestwhenyouthoughtyourselfalone。Thelackofnoiseintheirmovementsetsfreethesoundoftheirvoices,andtheirlaughterfloats。

  Butweshallnotpraisethe\"simple,sweet\"and\"earth-confidingfeet\"enoughwithoutthanksfortheruleofverseandforthetimeofsong。IfPoetrywasfirstdividedbythemarch,andnextvariedbythedance,thentotheruleofthefootaretobeascribedthethought,theinstruction,andthedreamthatcouldnotspeakbyprose。Outofthatlittlephysicallaw,then,grewaspirituallawwhichisoneofthegreatestthingsweknow;andfromthetestofthefootcametheultimatetestofthethinker:\"IsitacceptedofSong?\"

  Themonastery,inlikemanner,holdsitssonstolittletrivialrulesoftimeandexactitude,nottobebroken,lawsthataremadesecureagainsttherestlessnessoftheheartfrettingforinsignificantliberties——triviallawstorestrainfromatrivialfreedom。Andwithinthegateoftheselawswhichseemsosmall,liestheworldofmysticvirtue。Theyenclose,theyimply,theylock,theyanswerforit。Lesservirtuesmayflowerindailylibertyandmayflourishinprose;butinfinitevirtuesandgreatnessarecompelledtothemeasureofpoetry,andobeytheconstraintofanhourlyconventbell。Itisnowonderthateverypoetworthythenamehashadapassionformetre,fortheveryverse。Tohimthedifficultfetteristheconditionofaninteriorrangeimmeasurable。

  HAVEPATIENCE,LITTLESAINT

  Someconsiderabletimemusthavegonebysinceanykindofcourtesyceased,inEngland,tobeheldnecessaryinthecourseofcommunicationwithabeggar。Feelingmaybehumane,andtheinterioractmostgentle;theremaybeatacitapology,andaprofoundmisgivingunexpressed;areluctancenotonlytorefusebuttobearbiter;adislikeoftheoffice;aregret,whetherfortheunequaldistributionofsocialluckorforapurseleftathome,equallysincere;howbeitcustomexactsnowordorsign,nothingwhateverofintercourse。Ifadogoracataccostsyou,oracalfinafieldcomesclosetoyouwithacandidinfantfaceandbreathingnostrilsofinvestigation,orifanykindofanimalcomestoyouonsomeobscureimpulseoffriendlyapproach,youacknowledgeit。Butthebeggartowhomyougivenothingexpectsnoanswertoaquestion,norecognitionofhispresence,notsomuchastheturnofyoureyelidinhisdirection,andneverawordtoexcuseyou。

  Nordoesthisblankbehaviourseemsavagetothosewhoareusedtonothingelse。Yetitissomewhatmoreinhumantorefuseananswertothebeggar’sremarkthantoleaveashopwithout\"Goodmorning。\"

  Whencomplaintismadeofthemodernsocialmanner——thatithasnomeritbutwhatisnegative,andthatitisapteventoabstainfromcourtesywithmorelackofgracethantheabstinenceabsolutelyrequires——thehabitofmannertowardsbeggarsisprobablynotsomuchasthoughtof。Tothesimplyhumaneye,however,theprevalentmannertowardsbeggarsisastrikingthing;itissignificantofsomuch。

  Obviouslyitisnoteasytoreplytobeggingexceptbytheintelligibleactofgiving。WehavenottheingenuoussimplicitythatmarksthecasteansweringmoreorlesstothatofVeredeVere,inItaly,forexample。AnelderlyItalianladyonherslowwayfromherownancientancestralpalazzotothevillage,andaccustomedtomeet,empty-handed,acertainnumberofbeggars,answersthembyaretortwhichwouldbe,literallytranslated,\"Excuseme,dear;I,too,amapoordevil,\"andthelastwordshenaturallyputsintothefeminine。

  Moreover,thesentenceisspokeninallthefamiliarityofthelocaldialect——adialectthatputsanytwopeopleatonceuponequaltermsasnothingelsecandoit。WoulditwerepossibletopresentthephrasetoEnglishreadersinallitsownhelplessgood-humour。Theexcellentwomanwhousesitispractisingnoeccentricitythereby,andraisesnosmile。Itisonlyinanotherclimate,andamidothermanners,thatonecannotrecallitwithoutasmile。ToamindhavingalivelysenseofcontrastitisnotalittlepleasanttoimagineanelderlyladyofcorrespondingstationinEnglandreplyingsotoimportunitiesforalms;albeitwehavenothingansweringtothegoodfellowshipofabroadpatoisusedcurrentlybyrichandpoor,andyetslightlygrotesqueinthecaseofallspeakers——adialectinwhich,forexample,nosermoniseverpreached,andinwhichnobookiseverprinted,exceptforfun;adialect\"familiar,butbynomeansvulgar。\"Besides,evenifourEnglishwomancouldbyanypossibilitybringherselftosaytoamendicant,\"Excuseme,dear;I,too,amapoordevil,\"shewouldstillnothavetheopportunityofputtingthelastwordpunctuallyintothefeminine,whichdoessocompletethecharacterofthesentence。

点击下载App,搜索"The Spirit of Place and Other Essays",免费读到尾