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。