the spirit of place and other essays-第14章

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subject　to　intelligible　perspective。



Of　all　the　things　that　London　has　foregone；　the　most　to　be　regretted

is　the　horizon。　　Not　the　bark　of　the　trees　in　its　right　colour；　not

the　spirit　of　the　growing　grass；　which　has　in　some　way　escaped　from

the　parks；　not　the　smell　of　the　earth　unmingled　with　the　odour　of

soot；　but　rather　the　mere　horizon。　　No　doubt　the　sun　makes　a

beautiful　thing　of　the　London　smoke　at　times；　and　in　some　places　of

the　sky；　but　not　there；　not　where　the　soft　sharp　distance　ought　to

shine。　　To　be　dull　there　is　to　put　all　relations　and　comparisons　in

the　wrong；　and　to　make　the　sky　lawless。



A　horizon　dark　with　storm　is　another　thing。　　The　weather　darkens　the

line　and　defines　it；　or　mingles　it　with　the　raining　cloud；　or　softly

dims　it；　or　blackens　it　against　a　gleam　of　narrow　sunshine　in　the

sky。　　The　stormy　horizon　will　take　wing；　and　the　sunny。　　Go　high

enough；　and　you　can　raise　the　light　from　beyond　the　shower；　and　the

shadow　from　behind　the　ray。　　Only　the　shapeless　and　lifeless　smoke

disobeys　and　defeats　the　summer　of　the　eyes。



Up　at　the　top　of　the　seaward　hill　your　first　thought　is　one　of　some

compassion　for　sailors；　inasmuch　as　they　see　but　little　of　their

sea。　　A　child　on　a　mere　Channel　cliff　looks　upon　spaces　and　sizes

that　they　cannot　see　in　the　Pacific；　on　the　ocean　side　of　the　world。

Never　in　the　solitude　of　the　blue　water；　never　between　the　Cape　of

Good　Hope　and　Cape　Horn；　never　between　the　Islands　and　the　West；　has

the　seaman　seen　anything　but　a　little　circle　of　sea。　　The　Ancient

Mariner；　when　he　was　alone；　did　but　drift　through　a　thousand　narrow

solitudes。　　The　sailor　has　nothing　but　his　mast；　indeed。　　And　but

for　his　mast　he　would　be　isolated　in　as　small　a　world　as　that　of　a

traveller　through　the　plains。



Round　the　plains　the　horizon　lies　with　folded　wings。　　It　keeps　them

so　perpetually　for　man；　and　opens　them　only　for　the　bird；　replying

to　flight　with　flight。



A　close　circlet　of　waves　is　the　sailor's　famous　offing。　　His　offing

hardly　deserves　the　name　of　horizon。　　To　hear　him　you　might　think

something　of　his　offing；　but　you　do　not　so　when　you　sit　down　in　the

centre　of　it。



As　the　upspringing　of　all　things　at　your　going　up　the　heights；　so

steady；　so　swift；　is　the　subsidence　at　your　descent。　　The　further

sea　lies　away；　hill　folds　down　behind　hill。　　The　whole　upstanding

world；　with　its　looks　serene　and　alert；　its　distant　replies；　its

signals　of　many　miles；　its　signs　and　communications　of　light；

gathers　down　and　pauses。　　This　flock　of　birds　which　is　the　mobile

landscape　wheels　and　goes　to　earth。　　The　Cardinal　weighs　down　the

audience　with　his　downward　hands。　　Farewell　to　the　most　delicate

horizon。







HABITS　AND　CONSCIOUSNESS







Education　might　do　somewhat　to　control　the　personal　habits　for　which

ungenerous　observant　men　are　inclined　to　dislike　one　another。　　It

has　done　little。　　As　to　literature；　this　has　had　the　most　curiously

diverse　influence　upon　the　human　sensitiveness　to　habit。　　Tolstoi's

perception　of　habits　is　keener　than　a　child's；　and　he　takes　them

uneasily；　as　a　child　does　not。　　He　holds　them　to　be　the　occasion；　if

not　the　cause；　of　hatred。　　Anna　Karenina；　as　she　drank　her　coffee；

knew　that　her　sometime　lover　was　dreading　to　hear　her　swallow　it；

and　was　hating　the　crooking　of　her　little　finger　as　she　held　her

cup。　　It　is　impossible　to　live　in　a　world　of　habits　with　such　an

apprehension　of　habits　as　this。



It　is　no　wonder　that　Tolstoi　denies　to　other　men　unconsciousness；

and　even　preoccupation。　　With　him　perception　never　lapses；　and　he

will　not　describe　a　murderer　as　rapt　away　by　passion　from　the

details　of　the　room　and　the　observation　of　himself；　nor　will　he

represent　a　theologian　as　failingeven　while　he　thinks　out　and

decides　the　question　of　his　faithto　note　the　things　that　arrest

his　present　and　unclouded　eyes。　　No　habits　would　dare　to　live　under

those　glances。　　They　must　die　of　dismay。



Tolstoi　sees　everything　that　is　within　sight。　　That　he　sees　this

multitude　of　things　with　invincible　simplicity　is　what　proves　him　an

artist；　nevertheless；　for　such　perception　as　his　there　is　no　peace。

For　when　it　is　not　the　trivialities　of　other　men's　habits　but　the

actualities　of　his　own　mind　that　he　follows　without　rest；　for　him

there　is　no　possible　peace　but　sleep。　　To　him；　more　than　to　all

others；　it　has　been　said；　〃Watch！〃　　There　is　no　relapse；　there　is　no

respite　but　sleep　or　death。



To　such　a　mind　every　night　must　come　with　an　overwhelming　change；　a

release　too　great　for　gratitude。　　What　a　falling　to　sleep！　　What　a

manumission；　what　an　absolution！　　Consciousness　and　conscience　set

free　from　the　exacted　instant　replies　of　the　unrelapsing　day。　　And

at　the　awakening　all　is　ready　yet　once　more；　and　apprehension　begins

again：　　a　perpetual　presence　of　mind。



Dr。　Johnson　was　〃absent。〃　　No　man　of　〃absent〃　mind　is　without　some

hourly　deliverance。　　It　is　on　the　present　mind　that　presses　the

burden　of　the　present　world。







SHADOWS







Another　good　reason　that　we　ought　to　leave　blank；　unvexed；　and

unencumbered　with　paper　patterns　the　ceiling　and　walls　of　a　simple

house　is　that　the　plain　surface　may　be　visited　by　the　unique　designs

of　shadows。　　The　opportunity　is　so　fine　a　thing　that　it　ought

oftener　to　be　offered　to　the　light　and　to　yonder　handful　of　long

sedges　and　rushes　in　a　vase。　　Their　slender　grey　design　of　shadows

upon　white　walls　is　better　than　a　tedious；　trivial；　or　anxious

device　from　the　shop。



The　shadow　has　all　intricacies　of　perspective　simply　translated　into

line　and　intersecting　curve；　and　pictorially　presented　to　the　eyes；

not　to　the　mind。　　The　shadow　knows　nothing　except　its　flat　designs。

It　is　single；　it　draws　a　decoration　that　was　never　seen　before；　and

will　never　be　seen　again；　and　that；　untouched；　varies　with　the

journey　of　the　sun；　shifts　the　interrelation　of　a　score　of　delicate

lines　at　the　mere　passing　of　time；　though　all　the　room　be

motionless。　　Why　will　design　insist　upon　its　importunate

immortality？　　Wiser　is　the　drama；　and　wiser　the　dance；　that　do　not

pause　upon　an　attitude。　　But　these　walk　with　passion　or　pleasure；

while　the　shadow　walks　with　the　earth。　　It　alters　as　the　hours

wheel。



Moreover；　while　the　habit　of　your　sunward　thoughts　is　still　flowing

southward；　after　the　winter　and　the　spring；　it　surprises　you　in　the

sudden　gleam　of　a　north…westering　sun。　　It　decks　a　new　wall；　it　is

shed　by　a　late　sunset　through　a　window　unvisited　for　a　year　past；　it

betrays　the　flitting　of　the　sun　into　unwonted　skiesa　sun　that

takes　the　midsummer　world　in　the　rear；　and　shows　his　head　at　a

sally…porte；　and　is　about　to　alight　on　an　unused　horizon。　　So　does

the　grey　drawing；　with　which　you　have　allowed　the　sun　and　your　pot

of　rushes　to　adorn　your　room；　play　the　stealthy　game　of　the　year。



You　need　not　stint　yourself　of　shadows；　for　an　occasion。　　It　needs

but　four　candles　to　make　a　hanging　Oriental　bell　play　the　most

buoyant　jugglery　overhead。　　Two　lamps　make　of　one　palm…branch　a

symmetrical　countercharge　of　shadows；　and　here　two　palm…branches

close　with　one　another　in　shadow；　their　arches　flowing　together；　and

their　paler　greys　darkening。　　It　is　hard　to　believe　that　there　are

many　to　prefer　a　〃repeating　pattern。〃



It　must　be　granted　to　them　that　a　grey　day　robs　of　their　decoration

the　walls　that　should　be　sprinkled　with　shadows。　　Let；　then；　a

plaque　or　a　picture　be　kept　for　hanging　on　shadowless　clays。　　To

dress　a　room　once　for　all；　and　to　give　it　no　more　heed；　is　to

neglect　the　units　of　the　days。



Shadows　within　doors　are　yet　only　messages　from　that　world　of

shadows　which　is　the　landscape　of　sunshine。　　Facing　a　May　sun　you

see　little　except　an　infinite　number　of　shadows。　　Atoms　of　shadow

be　the　day　bright　enoughcompose　the　very　air　through　which　you　see

the　light。　　The　trees　show　you　a　shadow　for　every　leaf；　and　the

poplars　are　sprinkled　upon　the