the rhythm of life and other essays(生命的旋律)-第3章
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that the kingdom of heaven should yield to his leisure。 The delicate； the
abstinent； the reticent graces were his in the heroic degree。 Where shall I
find a pen fastidious enough to define and limit and enforce so many
significant negatives？ Words seem to offend by too much assertion； and
to check the suggestions of his reserve。 That reserve was life… long。
Loving literature； he never lifted a pen except to write a letter。 He was
not inarticulate； he was only silent。 He had an exquisite style from which
to refrain。 The things he abstained from were all exquisite。 They were
brought from far to undergo his judgment； if haply he might have selected
them。 Things ignoble never approached near enough for his refusal； they
had not with him so much as that negative connexion。 If I had to equip
an author I should ask no better than to arm him and invest him with
precisely the riches that were renounced by the man whose intellect； by
integrity； had become a presence…chamber。
It was by holding session among so many implicit safeguards that he
taught； rather than by precepts。 Few were these in his speech； but his
personality made laws for me。 It was a subtle education； for it persuaded
insensibly to a conception of my own。 How； if he would not define；
could I know what things were and what were not worthy of his gentle and
implacable judgment？ I must needs judge them for myself； yet he
constrained me in the judging。 Within that constraint and under that
stimulus； which seemed to touch the ultimate springs of thoughts before
they sprang； I began to discern all things in literature and in lifein the
chastity of letters and in the honour of lifethat I was bound to love。 Not
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the things of one character only； but excellent things of every character。
There was no tyranny in such a method。 His idleness justified itself by
the liberality it permitted to his taste。 Never having made his love of
letters further a secondary purpose； never having bound the literary
geniusthat delicate Arielto any kind of servitude； never having so much
as permitted himself a prejudice whereby some of his delights should be
stinted while others were indulged beyond the sanctions of modest reason；
he barely tolerated his own preferences； which lay somewhat on the hither
side of full effectiveness of style。 These the range of his reading
confessed by certain exclusions。 Nevertheless it was not of deficiencies
that he was patient： he did but respect the power of pause； and he
disliked violence chiefly because violence is apt to confess its own limits。
Perhaps； indeed； his own fine negatives made him only the more sensible
of any lack of those literary qualities that are bound in their full
complement to hold themselves at the disposal of the consummate author
to stand and wait； if they may do no more。
Men said that he led a DILETTANTE life。 They reproached him
with the selflessness that made him somewhat languid。 Others； they
seemed to aver； were amateurs at this art or that； he was an amateur at
living。 So it was； in the sense that he never grasped at happiness； and
that many of the things he had held slipped from his disinterested hands。
So it was； too； in this unintended sense； he loved life。 How should he not
have loved a life that his living made honourable？ How should he not
have loved all arts； in which his choice was delicate； liberal； instructed；
studious； docile； austere？ An amateur man he might have been called；
too； because he was not discomposed by his own experiences； or shaken
by the discovery which life brings to us…that the negative quality of which
Buddhism seems to accuse all good is partaken by our happiness。 He had
always prayed temperate prayers and harboured probable wishes。 His
sensibility was extreme； but his thought was generalised。 When he had
joy he tempered it not in the common way by meditation upon the general
sorrow but by a recollection of the general pleasure。 It was his finest
distinction to desire no differences； no remembrance； but loss among the
innumerable forgotten。 And when he suffered； it was with so quick a
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nerve and yet so wide an apprehension that the race seemed to suffer in
him。 He pitied not himself so tenderly as mankind； of whose capacity for
pain he was then feelingly persuaded。 His darkening eyes said in the
extreme hour： 'I have compassion on the multitude。'
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THE SUN
Nowhere else does the greater light so rule the day； so measure； so
divide； so reign； make so imperial laws； so visibly kindle； so immediately
quicken； so suddenly efface； so banish； so restore； as in a plain like this of
Suffolk with its enormous sky。 The curious have an insufficient motive
for going to the mountains if they do it to see the sunrise。 The sun that
leaps from a mountain peak is a sun past the dew of his birth； he has
walked some way towards the common fires of noon。 But on the flat
country the uprising is early and fresh； the arc is wide； the career is long。
The most distant clouds； converging in the beautiful and little…studied
order of cloud…perspective （for most painters treat clouds as though they
formed perpendicular and not horizontal scenery）； are those that gather at
the central point of sunrise。 On the plain； and there only； can the
constructionbut that is too little vital a word； I should rather say the
organismthe unity； the design； of a sky be understood。 The light wind
that has been moving all night is seen to have not worked at random。 It
has shepherded some small flocks of cloud afield and folded others。
There's husbandry in Heaven。 And the order has； or seems to have； the sun
for its midst。 Not a line； not a curve； but confesses its membership in a
design declared from horizon to horizon。
To see the system of a sky in fragments is to miss what I learn to look
for in all achieved works of Nature and art： the organism that is unity
and life。 It is the unity and life of painting。 The Early Victorian picture…
…（the school is still in full career； but essentially it belongs to that
triumphal period）is but a dull sum of things put together； in concourse；
not in relation； but the true picture is ONE； however multitudinous it may
be； for it is composed of relations gathered together in the unity of
perceptio
