the spirit of place and other essays-第3章

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Tory；　I　fancy　she　looks　like　one；　and　D　a　sort　of　trimmer。〃



But　it　is　for　Dingley　separately　that　Swift　endured　a　wild　bird　in

his　lodgings。　　His　man　Patrick　had　got　one　to　take　over　to　her　in

Ireland。　　〃He　keeps　it　in　a　closet；　where　it　makes　a　terrible

litter；　but　I　say　nothing；　I　am　as　tame　as　a　clout。〃



Forgotten　Dingley；　happy　in　this；　has　not　had　to　endure　the

ignominy；　in　a　hundred　essays；　to　be　retrospectively　offered　to

Swift　as　an　unclaimed　wife；　so　far　so　good。　　But　two　hundred　years

is　long　for　her　to　have　gone　stripped　of　so　radiant　a　glory　as　is

hers　by　right。　　〃Better；　thanks　to　MD's　prayers；〃　wrote　the　immortal

man　who　loved　her；　in　a　private　fragment　of　a　journal；　never　meant

for　Dingley's　eyes；　nor　for　Ppt's；　nor　for　any　human　eyes；　and　the

rogue　Stella　has　for　two　centuries　stolen　all　the　credit　of　those

prayers；　and　all　the　thanks　of　that　pious　benediction。







SOLITUDE







The　wild　man　is　alone　at　will；　and　so　is　the　man　for　whom

civilization　has　been　kind。　　But　there　are　the　multitudes　to　whom

civilization　has　given　little　but　its　reaction；　its　rebound；　its

chips；　its　refuse；　its　shavings；　sawdust　and　waste；　its　failures；　to

them　solitude　is　a　right　foregone　or　a　luxury　unattained；　a　right

foregone；　we　may　name　it；　in　the　case　of　the　nearly　savage；　and　a

luxury　unattained　in　the　case　of　the　nearly　refined。　　These　has　the

movement　of　the　world　thronged　together　into　some　blind　by…way。



Their　share　in　the　enormous　solitude　which　is　the　common；　unbounded；

and　virtually　illimitable　possession　of　all　mankind　has　lapsed；

unclaimed。　　They　do　not　know　it　is　theirs。　　Of　many　of　their

kingdoms　they　are　ignorant；　but　of　this　most　ignorant。　　They　have

not　guessed　that　they　own　for　every　man　a　space　inviolate；　a　place

of　unhidden　liberty　and　of　no　obscure　enfranchisement。　　They　do　not

claim　even　the　solitude　of　closed　corners；　the　narrow　privacy　of　the

lock　and　key；　nor　could　they　command　so　much。　　For　the　solitude　that

has　a　sky　and　a　horizon　they　know　not　how　to　wish。



It　lies　in　a　perpetual　distance。　　England　has　leagues　thereof；

landscapes；　verge　beyond　verge；　a　thousand　thousand　places　in　the

woods；　and　on　uplifted　hills。　　Or　rather；　solitudes　are　not　to　be

measured　by　miles；　they　are　to　be　numbered　by　days。　　They　are

freshly　and　freely　the　dominion　of　every　man　for　the　day　of　his

possession。　　There　is　loneliness　for　innumerable　solitaries。　　As

many　days　as　there　are　in　all　the　ages；　so　many　solitudes　are　there

for　men。　　This　is　the　open　house　of　the　earth；　no　one　is　refused。

Nor　is　the　space　shortened　or　the　silence　marred　because；　one　by

one；　men　in　multitudes　have　been　alone　there　before。　　Solitude　is

separate　experience。　　Nay；　solitudes　are　not　to　be　numbered　by　days；

but　by　men　themselves。　　Every　man　of　the　living　and　every　man　of　the

dead　might　have　had　his　〃privacy　of　light。〃



It　needs　no　park。　　It　is　to　be　found　in　the　merest　working　country；

and　a　thicket　may　be　as　secret　as　a　forest。　　It　is　not　so　difficult

to　get　for　a　time　out　of　sight　and　earshot。　　Even　if　your　solitude

be　enclosed；　it　is　still　an　open　solitude；　so　there　be　〃no　cloister

for　the　eyes；〃　and　a　space　of　far　country　or　a　cloud　in　the　sky　be

privy　to　your　hiding…place。　　But　the　best　solitude　does　not　hide　at

all。



This　the　people　who　have　drifted　together　into　the　streets　live

whole　lives　and　never　know。　　Do　they　suffer　from　their　deprivation

of　even　the　solitude　of　the　hiding…place？　　There　are　many　who　never

have　a　whole　hour　alone。　　They　live　in　reluctant　or　indifferent

companionship；　as　people　may　in　a　boarding…house；　by　paradoxical

choice；　familiar　with　one　another　and　not　intimate。　　They　live　under

careless　observation　and　subject　to　a　vagabond　curiosity。　　Theirs　is

the　involuntary　and　perhaps　the　unconscious　loss　which　is　futile　and

barren。



One　knows　the　men；　and　the　many　women；　who　have　sacrificed　all　their

solitude　to　the　perpetual　society　of　the　school；　the　cloister；　or

the　hospital　ward。　　They　walk　without　secrecy；　candid；　simple；

visible；　without　moods；　unchangeable；　in　a　constant　communication

and　practice　of　action　and　speech。　　Theirs　assuredly　is　no　barren　or

futile　loss；　and　they　have　a　conviction；　and　they　bestow　the

conviction；　of　solitude　deferred。



Who　has　painted　solitude　so　that　the　solitary　seemed　to　stand　alone

and　inaccessible？　　There　is　the　loneliness　of　the　shepherdess　in

many　a　drawing　of　J。F。　Millet。　　The　little　figure　is　away；　aloof。

The　girl　stands　so　when　the　painter　is　gone。　　She　waits　so　on　the

sun　for　the　closing　of　the　hours　of　pasture。　　Millet　has　her　as　she

looks；　out　of　sight。



Now；　although　solitude　is　a　prepared；　secured；　defended；　elaborate

possession　of　the　rich；　they　too　deny　themselves　the　natural

solitude　of　a　woman　with　a　child。　　A　newly…born　child　is　so　nursed

and　talked　about；　handled　and　jolted　and　carried　about　by　aliens；

and　there　is　so　much　importunate　service　going　forward；　that　a　woman

is　hardly　alone　long　enough　to　become　aware；　in　recollection；　how

her　own　blood　moves　separately；　beside　her；　with　another　rhythm　and

different　pulses。　　All　is　commonplace　until　the　doors　are　closed

upon　the　two。　　This　unique　intimacy　is　a　profound　retreat；　an

absolute　seclusion。　　It　is　more　than　single　solitude；　it　is　a

redoubled　isolation　more　remote　than　mountains；　safer　than　valleys；

deeper　than　forests；　and　further　than　mid…sea。



That　solitude　partakenthe　only　partaken　solitude　in　the　worldis

the　Point　of　Honour　of　ethics。　　Treachery　to　that　obligation　and　a

betrayal　of　that　confidence　might　well　be　held　to　be　the　least

pardonable　of　all　crimes。　　There　is　no　innocent　sleep　so　innocent　as

sleep　shared　between　a　woman　and　a　child；　the　little　breath　hurrying

beside　the　longer；　as　a　child's　foot　runs。　　But　the　favourite　crime

of　the　sentimentalist　is　that　of　a　woman　against　her　child。　　Her

power；　her　intimacy；　her　opportunity；　that　should　be　her　accusers；

are　held　to　excuse　her。　　She　gains　the　most　slovenly　of　indulgences

and　the　grossest　compassion；　on　the　vulgar　grounds　that　her　crime

was　easy。



Lawless　and　vain　art　of　a　certain　kind　is　apt　to　claim　to…day；　by

the　way；　some　such　fondling　as　a　heroine　of　the　dock　receives　from

common　opinion。　　The　vain　artist　had　all　the　opportunities　of　the

situation。　　He　was　master　of　his　own　purpose；　such　as　it　was；　it　was

his　secret；　and　the　public　was　not　privy　to　his　artistic　conscience。

He　does　violence　to　the　obligations　of　which　he　is　aware；　and　which

the　world　does　not　know　very　explicitly。　　Nothing　is　easier。　　Or　he

is　lawless　in　a　more　literal　sense；　but　only　hopes　the　world　will

believe　that　he　has　a　whole　code　of　his　own　making。　　It　would；

nevertheless；　be　less　unworthy　to　break　obvious　rules　obviously　in

the　obvious　face　of　the　public；　and　to　abide　the　common　rebuke。



It　has　just　been　said　that　a　park　is　by　no　means　necessary　for　the

preparation　of　a　country　solitude。　　Indeed；　to　make　those　far　and

wide　and　long　approaches　and　avenues　to　peace　seems　to　be　a　denial

of　the　accessibility　of　what　should　be　so　simple。　　A　step；　a　pace　or

so　aside；　is　enough　to　lead　thither。



A　park　insists　too　much；　and；　besides；　does　not　insist　very

sincerely。　　In　order　to　fulfil　the　apparent　professions　and　to　keep

the　published　promise　of　a　park；　the　owner　thereof　should　be　a　lover

of　long　seclusion　or　of　a　very　life　of　loneliness。　　He　should　have

gained　the　state　of　solitariness　which　is　a　condition　of　life　quite

unlike　any　other。　　The　traveller　who　may　have　gone　astray　in

countries　where　an　almost　life…long　solitude　is　possible　knows　how

invincibly　apart　are　the　lonely　figures　he　has　seen　in　desert　places

there。　　Their　loneliness　is　broken　by　his　passage；　it　is　true；　but

hardly　so　to　them。　　They　look　at　him；　but　they　are　not　aware　that　he

looks　at　them。　　Nay；　they　look　at　him　as　though　they　were　invisible。

Their　un…self…consciousness　is　absolute；　it　is　in　th