,transcriber's ,note3    ,greek words in
 this text have been transliterated into
 ,english and are   found within        
brackets4               ,apologia       
,diffidentis               ,,by ,,the   
,,same ,,author            ,sirenica    
,apologia ,diffidentis                  
,by            ,w4 ,compton ,leith      
,london3 ,john ,lane1 ,the              
,bodley ,head4 ,new ,york3              
,john ,lane ,company                    
,,mcmxvii                ,third ,edition
       ,printed in ,great ,britain   by 
,turnbull  ,spears1 ,edinburgh          
,to ,one  ,whose ,friendship is beyond  
,desert          and above ,requital    
,apologia ,diffidentis      ,i am       
naturally bashful2 nor hath             
conversation1 age1     or travel been   
able to effront or enharden me4         
,,sir ,,thomas ,,browne   ,in the matter
 of avowals the diffident never speak if
 they can write4 ,that is why my apology
 for a furtive existence is here set    
down in solitude instead of being told  

face to face4 ,you have borne so many   
years with my unresponsive and          
incomprehensible ways that shame at last
 constrains me to this poor defence2 for
 ,i must either justify myself in your  
sight1 or go far away where even your   
kindness cannot reach me4 ,the first    
alternative is hard1 but the second too 
grievous for impaired powers of         
endurance2 ,i must therefore find what  
expression ,i may1 and tell you how my  
life has been beshrewed ever since1 a   
boy of twelve1 ,i first incurred the    
obloquy of being shy4 ,the word slips   
easily from the pen though the lips     
refuse to frame it2 for ,i think most   
men would rather plead guilty to a vice 
than to this weakness4  ,a doom of      
reticence is upon all our shy           
confraternity1 and we seldom make       
confidences even to each other4 ,it is  
only at rarest intervals that the spell 
is lifted1 by silent sympathy1 by a     
smile1 by a tear1 by ,i know not what4  
,at such times our souls are like those 

deep pools of the shore1 only open to   
the sky at lowest tides of still summer 
days1 only to be approached across long 
stretches of wet sand and slippery      
shelves of rock4 ,in their depths are   
delicate fronded seaweeds and shells    
tinted with hues of sundawn2 but to see 
them you must bend low over the surface1
 which no lightest breath must furrow1  
or the vision is gone4  ,few of the busy
 toilers of the world will leave the    
firm sands to see so little2 but        
sometimes one weary of keen life will   
stray aside1 and oftener a child will   
come splashing across the beach to peer 
down with artless curiosity and delight4
 ,then the jealous ocean returns1 and   
the still clear depths are confused once
 more with refluent waters2 soon the    
waves are tossing above the quiet spot1 
and the child is gone home to sleep and 
forget4 ,i cannot have you with me at   
these still hours of revelation2 ,i must
 tell my tale as best ,i can with such  
success as fortune may bestow4  ,i shall

 say nothing of the miseries which      
embittered the life of the diffident    
boy4 ,but ,i cannot pass in silence the 
deeper trouble of earliest manhood1 when
 my soul first awoke to the dread that  
though other clouds might drift westward
 and dissolve1 one would impend over me 
for ever4 ,it was at the university that
 this vague misgiving crept upon me like
 a chill mist1 until the hopes and      
aspirations of youth were one by one    
extinguished1 as to a sailor putting out
 to sea the comfortable harbour lights  
vanish in the wracks of a tempestuous   
winter morning4 ,i turned my face away  
from the gracious young life amidst     
which ,i moved1 like a man possessed of 
a dark secret to his undoing4 ,my heart1
 yet eager for the joy of living and    
yearning for affection1 was daily       
starved of its need as by a power of    
deliberate and feline cruelty2 and with 
every expansive impulse instantly       
restrained by this daemonic force1 ,i   
was left at last unresponsive as a      

maltreated child1 who flings his arms   
round no one1 but shrinks back into his 
own world of solitary fancies4  ,i think
 there is no misery so great as that of 
youth surrounded by all opportunities   
for wholesome fellowship1 endowed with  
natural faculties for enjoyment1 yet    
repressed and thwarted at every turn by 
invincible self-consciousness and       
mistrust3 surely no lost opportunities  
of manhood leave such aching voids as   
these4 ,in the spring-time of life to   
feel day by day the slow erosion of the 
power of joy is of all pains most       
poignant2 out of it grow anxieties1     
premature despairs1 incongruous with    
fresh cheeks and a mind not yet mature4 
,this misery was mine for those four    
years which to most men are the happiest
 of a whole career1 but to me at every  
retrospect seem so beset with gloomy    
shadows that could ,i live my life      
again1 ,i would not traverse them once  
more for all the gold of ,ophir4  ,at   
first ,i writhed and strained in my     

bonds1 and sometimes would make timid   
advances to the generous young hearts   
around me4 ,but the tension always      
proved too sore2 ,i never maintained the
 ground ,i had won1 and with a perilous 
fatalism more and more readily accepted 
what ,i deemed inevitable failure4      
,there were among them1 ,i doubt it not 
now1 ,samaritans who would have tended  
my bruised limbs2 but then they all     
seemed to be gliding over the black ice1
 too happy to stay and lift up the      
fallen4 ,and bruised though ,i was1 ,i  
still rose time and again and moved     
painfully among them1 so that theirs was
 no culpable or merciless neglect4  ,yet
 the end for me was illimitable         
dreariness2 and like ,archie in ,weir of
 ,hermiston1 ,i seemed abroad in a world
 from which every hope of intimacy was  
banished4 ,and as with every month the  
hopelessness of resistance was made     
plainer and plainer1 there came upon me 
the recklessness of the condemned man   
who jests or blasphemes to hide his     

ruth4 ,overwrought continually by       
forebodings of coming pain1 unstrung by 
strange revulsions1 ,i would pass from  
burning wrath to cold despair1 a most   
petulant and undisciplined sufferer4    
,uniting in one person the physical     
exuberance of youth and the melancholy  
of disillusioned manhood1 ,i was        
deprived of the balanced energy proper  
to either age1 and kept up a braggart   
courage with the headiest wine of       
literature4 ,i could not bear the bland 
homilies of the preachers1 but ranged   
myself with the apostles of rebellion   
who blew imperious trumpet blasts before
 the walls of ordered life4  ,verily the
 violence of the blasts was sometimes   
such that the ramparts should have      
fallen down2 and often in my exaltation 
,i already saw them totter1 as ,i strode
 along reciting the dithyrambs of men   
who like myself could find scarce a     
responsive heart-beat in all this       
throbbing world4 ,above all ,i gloried  
in the declamations of ,queen ,mab1     

which sanctioned by high poetic         
authority the waste of my affections and
 my moody defiance of life's most       
salutary law4 ,with these upon my lips  
,i roamed1 an absurd pathetic figure1   
amid the haunts of the ,scholar ,gipsy1 
and the wayward upland breezes conspired
 with my truant moods4 ,and while ,i sat
 by my lamp late into the night1 ,i     
turned the pages of pessimists and      
cynics1 for no principles are dearer to 
a man than those which allow him to     
profess contempt for the benefits which 
he cannot enjoy4  ,yet by seeking amid  
such simples a balm for wounded pride1  
,i did not really deceive myself1 but   
lived as a sophist rather than a        
philosopher4 ,and all the while ,i was  
digging graves for my better instincts1 
until my sexton's mood1 confining me    
within churchyard walls1 gave me over   
almost entirely to the company of mental
 bats and owls4 ,the danger of it all   
was that though ,i was yet youthful1 and
 should have been still pliant as a     

sapling1 ,i was fostering the growth of 
those habits which1 like rings in the   
grain1 are the signature of unyielding  
years4 ,naturalists say that a bullfinch
 fed only on hempseed gradually loses   
his fair plumage and becomes black as a 
raven3 so my soul1 nourished on thoughts
 of rebellion1 put off its bright and   
diverse enthusiasms and was clothed in  
the dark garment of despair4  ,when the 
long-desired hour of release came1 and  
,i was free to turn my back upon the    
spires of my prison city1 ,i had already
 plumbed an abyss of misery4 ,the very  
thought of life in the conflict of the  
world was abhorrent2 and if ,i had been 
of the ,roman ,church ,i should have    
become a ,benedictine and sought a      
lettered and cloistered peace4 ,i       
despaired of finding anywhere upon earth
 the profound quietude1 the absolute    
detachment1 when a chance occasion      
seemed to crown my desire1 and blind to 
all warnings of disillusion1 ,i suddenly
 set sail for what ,i then thought might

 be a permanent sojourn in the ,east4   
,within two months' time the whole      
environment of my life was changed1 and 
,i was established on a lonely          
plantation set high upon a range of     
hills whose slopes were clothed with    
primeval forests verging to a tropical  
sea4 ,my home1 a white-walled1          
red-roofed bungalow with a great        
columned verandah like a temple's       
peristyle1 lay in the issue of an upper 
valley threaded by a clear stream1      
whence you may look far down over       
rolling plains to an horizon lost in the
 shimmering heat of noon4 ,immediately  
to the east rose the cone of a great    
solitary hill1 always outlined against  
the sky with a majestic isolation that  
lent it an almost personal existence1   
and at the birth of every day bearing   
the orb of the rising sun upon its      
wooded shoulder4 ,round about1 in       
scattered villages of thatched and      
mud-walled huts1 dwelled brown men of   
ancient pagan ways1 men who neither knew

 progress nor set any price upon time4  
,there ,i entered upon a wholly new     
existence as remote from all the social 
trials which beset shyness as if it were
 passed in some island of the uttermost 
sea4 ,i had escaped from a harrying     
pursuit2 ,i was free2 and to the bliss  
of this recovered liberty ,i abandoned  
myself1 without attempting to justify my
 flight to conscience or forming any    
scheme for future years4 ,like a deer   
which has eluded the hounds1 ,i yearned 
only for rest and long oblivion of the  
chase2 ,i wanted to live woodland days  
until1 all the strain and panic of the  
past forgotten1 ,i might rise refreshed 
and see a new way clear before me4  ,and
 this first abandonment was a time of   
ecstasy4 ,the long tranquil days were   
crowned by nights of peace yet more     
desired4 ,i lay beneath the verandah and
 watched the stars in their splendour1  
not the pin-points of cold light that   
pierce our misty western heavens1 but   
bright orbs in innumerable companies    

hovering upon the tranced earth4 ,night 
after night ,i saw the incomparable     
vision2 month after month the moon rose 
slowly over the high wall of the jungle1
 first a great globe imminent upon the  
trees1 next soaring remote through the  
upper heavens1 waning at last to a      
sphere of pale unquickening light4 ,i   
would lie thus for hours motionless1    
with lulled mind1 until the breeze      
forerunning the dawn1 or the quavering  
wail of the jackal1 recalled the        
startled thought to the prison bonds of 
self4  ,with the gentle lapse of months 
all these impersonal influences took    
dominion over me and gave me a quiet    
happiness never known before4 ,the      
nights brought the greater light2 but   
the days too had their glories4 ,i would
 climb the rugged sides of the mountain1
 and emerging into a colder world sit   
beneath an overhanging rock and see the 
hot air quivering over leagues of plain2
 while in the nearer distance1 far down 
beneath my feet1 the rice-fields shone  

like emerald and the palm-fringed pools 
like shields of silver4 ,or ,i would    
stretch myself at early afternoon on the
 close-cropped grass on the jungle-edge1
 and watch the opposite sky take on an  
ever-deeper blue against the setting sun
 behind me4 ,often at such times ,i     
would hear a rushing in the highest     
branches1 and turning very silently1 see
 the outposts of a troop of monkeys     
peering down through the gleaming       
foliage4 ,then1 if ,i moved1 neither    
head nor limb1 others would come1 and   
yet others1 leaping from branch to      
branch and plunging down from higher to 
lower levels like divers cleaving a deep
 green sea2 until at last some slightest
 involuntary movement of mine would put 
the whole host to flight1 and           
greybeards1 young warriors1 camp        
followers and mothers with their        
children on their backs would spring    
precipitate from tree to tree1 screaming
 and gibbering like ,homer's sapless    
dead4 ,then1 when the stars rushed out  

and the darkness came on apace1 it was  
sweet to wander home along those paths  
so dear to primitive men in all         
countries1 narrow paths and sinuous1    
smoothed by the footfalls of centuries1 
winding patiently round every obstacle  
and never breaking through after the    
brutal manner of civilization4 ,the     
fire-flies gleamed in the brushwood on  
either hand1 and from every side rose   
that all-pervading hum of busy insects  
through which the tropic forest is never
 still4  ,amid these surroundings1 so   
peaceful and so new1 my soul was stilled
 to that galene or ocean-calm which the 
old ,greek philosopher found the highest
 good for man4 ,and month by month the  
mere material side of life grew of less 
moment2 the body fretted the spirit     
less1 but often seemed a tissue of      
gossamer lightness through which it     
could pass at will1 as the breeze       
through the gleaming spider-webs upon   
the bushes at dawn4 ,there were times   
when the ideal of the mystic seemed     

well-nigh accomplished1 when my body    
might almost have been abandoned by the 
soul for hours upon end4 ,the words of  
,emerson seemed to be fulfilled3 ,by    
being assimilated to the original soul  
by whom and after whom all things       
subsist1 the soul of man does then      
easily flow into all things and all     
things flow into it3 they mix2 and he is
 present and sympathetic with their     
structure and law4  ,as ,i write now    
amid the roar of ,london traffic1 ,i    
well believe that to men who have never 
bathed in eastern moonlight1 the        
description will sound hyperbolical and 
false4 ,but when ,i think of those old  
days1 how serene they were1 how apart1  
,i let the words stand3 ,i am not artist
 enough to give them a more plausible   
simplicity4 ,all conditions that a      
recluse might crave seemed now to be    
fulfilled for my benefit4 ,the virgin   
forests and great hills were a perpetual
 joy1 but there was a tranquil pleasure 
in the plantation which man's labour had

 reclaimed from these4 ,that was a meet 
place indeed for the meditation of a    
quiet hour1 and no more grateful refuge 
can be conceived than such a shady grove
 at the height of noon4 ,you must not   
fancy an expanse of dusty land lined    
with prim rows of plants in the formal  
style of a nursery garden2 but1 spread  
over the lower slopes of the valleys1   
spacious woods of clean1 grey-stemmed   
trees1 with overarching branches thinned
 to cast a diaphanous shade over the sea
 of lustrous dark leaves below4 ,the    
shrubs stood waist-high in serried1     
commingling ranks1 their dark burnished 
leaves gleaming here and there in the   
sifted rays that found their way down   
through the vaults of foliage2 the      
groves of ,daphne had no more perfect   
sheen4  ,i learned to feel for this     
gracious place a love only second to    
that of the wilder jungle2 for nature   
thus tamed to work side by side with man
 loses indeed her austerer charm1 but   
not her calm and dignity3 these she     

brings with her always to be a glory to 
the humblest associate of her labour4   
,often as ,i pruned a tree1 or stripped 
its stem of suckers1 ,i felt the        
soothing1 quickening influence of this  
partnership1 and my thoughts turned to  
others who had known a like satisfaction
 and relief2 to ,obermann forgetting his
 melancholy in the toil of the vintage1 
plucking the ripe clusters and wheeling 
them away as if he had never known the  
malady of thought2 or to ,edward        
,fitzgerald out with the dawn among his 
roses at ,little ,grange4  ,amid these  
high dreams and simple occupations1 time
 seemed to glide away like a brimming   
stream1 and the only events that marked 
the passing of the years were wayfarings
 through the country-side1 sojournings  
in strange1 slumbrous native towns1     
expeditions of wider range to old white 
ports of ,malabar still dreaming of the 
forgotten heroes whose story ,camoens   
sang4 ,after many such journeys the     
genius of this oriental land seemed to  

travel with us1 so familiar did every   
aspect of this simple ,indian life      
become4 ,our equipment was of set       
purpose the patriarchal gear of native  
fashion2 narrow carts with great        
lumbering wheels were covered by matting
 arched upon bent saplings1 and had     
within a depth of clean rice-straw on   
which at night mattresses were spread4  
,beneath each yoke went a pair of       
milk-white oxen with large mild eyes and
 pendulous dewlaps1 great beasts of a   
fine ,homeric dignity and worthy of     
,nausicaa's wain4 ,they swung along with
 a leisurely rolling gait2 and if their 
silent feet moved too slowly1 the sleepy
 brown-skinned driver1 crouching on the 
pole between them1 would shame them into
 speed by scornful words about their    
ancestry1 more prompt than blows in     
their effect on beasts of ancient and   
sacred lineage4  ,we travelled at night 
or in the freshness of early morning1   
regardless of the hours1 unfretted by   
the tyrannous remembrances of appointed 

times4 ,milestones passed slowly1 like  
things drifting1 which ask no attention1
 and hardly perceived in the moment of  
their disappearance1 serve only to      
enrich and replenish the mind's         
voluptuous repose4 ,it was a joy to lie 
drowsily back upon the straw1 awaiting  
sleep and looking out upon the stars    
through the open back of the cart1 while
 the fire-flies darted across the       
feathery clusters of bamboo1 and the    
cradling sound of wheels and footfalls  
called slumber up out of the darkness4  
,and it was equal delight to spring from
 the cart at first flush of dawn1 and   
see some far blue hill in the east lined
 like a cloud with broadening gold1     
until the resistless sun rose a full orb
 above it1 flooding the grey plains and 
making the leaves of the banyans gleam  
with the lustre of old bronze4 ,but     
though the sun was come1 we would often 
press on for yet three hours1 through   
belts of squirrel-haunted wood1 beside  
great sheets of water with wild-duck    

floating far amidst1 and borders starred
 with yellow nenuphars1 across groves of
 mango and plantain trees into          
landscapes of tiny terraced plots1 where
 the vivid green rice-blades stood thick
 in the well-soaked earth1 and bowed    
brown figures diverted to their roots   
the thread-like rivulet from the great  
brown tank above4  ,here would be a     
wayside shrine1 a simple stuccoed       
portico with columns streaked in red1   
enclosing the sacred emblems with their 
offerings of golden marigold1 and       
bearing upon each corner1 carved in dark
 grey stone1 ,siva's recumbent bull4    
,here millet fields1 with hedges of blue
 aloe or euphorbias like seven-branched 
candlesticks1 announced a place of      
habitation2 soon the village itself     
appeared1 a long irregular line of      
white-walled houses roofed with thatch  
or tile1 and here and there greater     
dwellings with carved balconies and     
barred verandahs1 behind which impassive
 white-robed figures sat and seemed to  

ponder upon life4 ,on the right1        
perhaps1 would be a shop all open to the
 road1 where1 cross-legged upon a kind  
of dais1 the merchant sat among his     
piled wares1 unenterprising and         
unsolicitous1 serenely confident in the 
balance-sheet of fate4 ,on the left1 in 
a shady corner1 a barber would be       
bending over a half-shaven skull4       
,everywhere children of every shade from
 yellow to deep umber would be playing  
solemnly about the ways1 turning upon   
the passing stranger their grave1       
unfathomable eyes4  ,beyond the village 
there would be a rest-house maintained  
for the use of wayfaring white men1 and 
here we would repose through the heat of
 the day1 reclining with a book in rooms
 shaded with shutters1 or with fine mats
 drenched from hour to hour with cooling
 sprays of water4 ,then with the sun's  
decline we would set out once more1     
meeting a file of blue-robed women erect
 as caryatides as they came up from the 
well1 each bearing upon her back-thrown 

head a water-jar of earthen or brazen   
ware1 staying her burden with a shapely 
brown arm circled with bangles of glass 
and silver4 ,in the short hours before  
the darkness1 we would encounter all the
 types of men which go to make up       
,indian country life--the red-slippered 
banker jogging on his pony beneath a    
white umbrella1 the vendor of palm-wine 
urging a donkey almost lost beneath the 
swollen skins1 barefooted ryots with    
silent feet and strident tongues1 crowds
 of boys and children driving buffaloes 
and cows1 all coming homeward from their
 labour with the evening4  ,and when    
these had gone by1 and we rolled on     
through the scented air of the silent   
open country1 we would come perhaps in  
the gathering darkness to a great river 
lapping and murmuring through the       
blackened rocks above the ford1 and     
shining like a glorious path in the     
light of the rising moon4 ,silently1    
high above the banks1 there would flit  
through the still air bands of flying   

foxes awakened for their nightly raid   
upon the plantain groves2 and in the    
shadows of the further bank there would 
gleam a sudden light1 or the echoes of a
 hailing voice would rise and then die  
away4 ,steeped in the poetry of all     
these things we would cross and emerge  
upon the opposite slope to begin the    
pilgrimage of the night anew4 ,so to    
live tranquil days and unfretful1 moving
 in quiet through a still land rich in  
old tradition--this was an experience of
 peace which no dreams of imagination   
could surpass1 a freshness of joy       
penetrative as the fragrance of         
unplucked wayside flowers4  ,sometimes  
we would set out on longer journeys by  
land and sea1 crossing the wooded ghats 
and descending to some old port of      
historic name1 ,cochin or ,mangalore or 
,calicut1 white places of old memory1   
sleeping by the blue waves as if no     
,vasco de ,gama had ever come sailing up
 out of the ,west to disturb their      
enchanted slumber4 ,the approach to     

these dreamy shores was dark and        
tumultuous1 as if nature had set an     
initiation of contrasting toil before   
the enjoyment of that light and peace4  
,it followed the bed of a mountain      
stream1 which began in a mere pleat of  
the hills1 tumbling often in white      
cascades1 and enduring no boat upon its 
waters until half its course was run4   
,but here it challenged man to essay a  
fall2 for where it burst its way over   
rocky slopes were channels jeopardous   
and hardly navigable1 sequences of      
foaming rapids1 races of wild water     
swirling round opposing boulders1 and   
careering indignant of restraint between
 long walls of beetling rock4 ,here when
 the sun had gone down we would embark  
with a crew of lithe brown men in a boat
 hewn from a single tree1 seamless and  
stoutly fashioned to be the unharmed    
plaything of such rocks and boisterous  
waters as these4 ,in these rapids the   
river waked to consciousness of mighty  
life1 tossing our little craft through a

 riot of dancing waves1 whirling it     
round the base of perpendicular rocks   
set like adamant in the hissing waters1 
sweeping it helpless as a petal down    
some glassy plane stilled1 as it were1  
into a concentrated wrath of movement4  
,the men sprang from side to side1 from 
bow to stern1 staving the craft with a  
miraculous deftness from a projecting   
boulder1 forcing her into a new course1 
steadying her as she reeled in the shock
 and strain of the conflict1 while their
 long poles bent continually like willow
 wands against her battered sides4 ,the 
steersman stood silent1 except when he  
shouted above all the din some resonant1
 eruptive word of command2 the men      
responded by breathless invocations to  
their gods1 relaxing no tense sinew     
until the pent waters rushed out into   
some broad pool where the eased stream  
went brimming silently1 gathering new   
strength in the darkness of its central 
deeps4  ,at such places the moon would  
perhaps be obscured by passing clouds1  

and we would land upon an eyot until she
 shone once more in a clear heaven4     
,stretched at length upon the fine white
 sand waiting for her return1 we could  
hear the boom of waters in the distance 
calling us on to a renewal of the       
conflict4 ,these periods of great       
stillness1 interposed between tumults   
past and impending1 had their own       
refinement of pleasure as far above the 
joys of fenced and covenanted ease as   
the bivouac of the hard campaign        
surpasses slumber in the fine linen of a
 captured city3 they brought the        
wandering mind into communion with      
elemental forces1 and seemed to hold it 
expectant of supernatural events4 ,in   
that interlunar twilight there reigned a
 solemn sense of wonder evoked here     
eternally1 one felt1 from the ancient   
time1 with the rustling of stirred      
foliage and the voice of those far      
waters for its music4  ,the lulled      
reason yielded place to reverie1 and the
 whole rapt being abandoned itself like 

an ,orphic worshipper to the guidance of
 an unseen mysteriarch4 ,this           
acquiescence in the swift succession of 
calm to fury and stress1 resembled the  
quiet which may be conceived to follow  
sudden death2 the heightened sense of   
vicissitude in things summoned up and   
sustained a solemn mood4 ,all the while 
that we lay charmed and half oppressed  
in this atmosphere as of an under-world1
 the clouds were drawing forward on     
their course2 and as their last fringe  
trailed slowly by and the moon was      
revealed once more1 the spell was broken
 in an instant by human voices calling  
us to re-embark4 ,again we glided to the
 verge of tumultuous falls1 again we    
were flung through foaming narrows and  
labyrinthine passages of torn rocks1    
until1 the last promontory turned with  
arrowy swiftness1 we shot through a     
postern of the granite barrier and      
bounded far into still water fringed    
with trees of profoundest shadow4 ,we   
put in to shore1 for this stage of our  

journey was over2 the dawn was near2 the
 carts stood waiting on the road4 ,but  
the influence of the wonderful night1   
clinging about us1 would keep us long   
silent1 as if awed by the passing of    
ancient ,vedic gods4  ,i will not       
describe the later stages of these      
journeys3 the coasting voyages in       
restful ships that seemed built to sail 
,maeander2 the touchings at old         
wharfless ports2 the visits to lone     
temples where ,herodotus would have     
loved to linger2 the rambles on the     
slopes of ,adam's ,peak2 the meditations
 amid the ruins of ,anaradhapura and    
,pollanarrua1 ancient homes of kings1   
now stripped of every glory but that of 
these sonorous names--such are the      
records of every traveller1 and are     
chronicled to satiety by a hundred hasty
 pens4 ,a month of wandering within the 
fringe of civilization would be closed  
by a last week of patriarchal travel1   
bringing us back to our remote valley   
just as the clouds of the coming monsoon

 were ranging in denser ranks along the 
evening sky like the tents of a         
beleaguering army4 ,hardly had we time  
to settle down for the wet season1 see  
to the stacking of fire-logs1 and be    
sure that every tile on the roof was    
firm in its appointed place1 when the   
embattled host seemed to break up from  
its last camp1 and advance upon us along
 the whole line that the eye perceived4 
,one year ,i was witness of the first   
onset1 which came in the late           
afternoon--an immediate shock of massed 
clouds without throwing forward of      
skirmishers or any prelude of the       
vanguard4 ,our home looked down upon a  
gentle incline of open grassy land to a 
broad belt of jungle in the middle      
distance2 here the undergrowth and small
 trees had been newly cleared away1     
opening out a dim far view across an    
uncumbered leaf-strewn floor into the   
backward gloom of the forest4 ,i sat    
with my eyes fixed upon the trees1      
drawing the rain on with the whole      

strength of desire to the parched       
country lying there faint with the      
exhaustion of three months of drought4  
,while ,i watched1 the deep line of     
cloud1 at first distinct from the       
forest-top along which it came rolling1 
insensibly merged with the foliage1     
until every contour was lost in a common
 gloom1 only the great bare stems below 
standing pale against the gathering     
darkness4 ,there was an intense         
stillness everywhere like the silence of
 expectation which falls upon an        
awestruck crowd2 the very insects had   
ceased their usual song4 ,and now the   
ear caught a distant sound1 vague and   
deep1 coming up out of the mid darkness1
 and growing to a mighty volume as a    
sudden wind swept out from the sounding 
foliage into the open land and searched 
every cranny of the house as it passed4 
,then1 as if drawn by the wind1 there   
came into view among the nearest        
tree-stems a moving grey line advancing 
with a long roar until it hid the whole 

forest from sight3 it was the wave of   
battle about to break upon us4 ,it came 
on like a wall1 enormous1 irresistible2 
one instant1 and it had devoured the    
intervening space2 another1 and we were 
lost in the deluge1 and the great rain  
drops were spilled upon the roof with   
the noise of continuous thunder4 ,as the
 deep sound reverberated through the    
roof above me1 ,i went in exulting to a 
hearth piled with blazing logs1 glad in 
the prospect of renewing for many weeks 
old and quiet habitudes of indoor life1 
rich with solace of books and tranquil  
meditation4         99       99       99
       99       99  ,i have dwelt upon  
the outward aspects of my life in exile1
 because the sojourn of these years amid
 the hills and forests taught a natural 
leechcraft which was to stand me in good
 stead in coming years1 and may stand in
 equal stead other souls desolate as    
mine4 ,like the ,nile brimming over the 
fields1 a flood of joy from nature      
overlaid my parched being1 enriching it 

with a fertile loam1 and shielding it   
from the irritations of the world4 ,i   
lay fallow beneath the still1 sunlit    
waters1 unharrowed by teasing points of 
doubt1 and porous to the influence of an
 all-encompassing peace4 ,exile had     
opened to me a new heaven and a new     
earth1 whose freshness and calm charmed 
thought away from all vain questionings2
 the fascination of outward things had  
for a while cooled the useless ardour of
 introspection4 ,but it was inevitable  
that the bland ease of such a           
contemplative life should bring no      
enduring satisfaction to the mind2 it   
was not an end in itself1 but a mere    
means to serenity1 a breathing-space    
useful to the recovery of a long-lost   
fortitude4 ,the time was now come when  
the hunted deer1 refreshed in the quiet 
of his inaccessible glen1 was to awake  
to new thought of the herd1 and of the  
duties of a common life2 when the peace 
of successful flight was to appear in   
its true light as a momentary release1  

and no longer as the ultimate goal      
imagined in the anguish of pursuit4  ,it
 was during this last monsoon that      
doubts began to stir within1            
interrupting my studies of the systems  
of ,hindu philosophy and my porings over
 sacred books4 ,the vague insistence of 
these misgivings made me surely aware   
that even in this eastern paradise all  
was not well2 but at first ,i refused to
 listen1 and plunged deep into the maze 
of the ,vedanta to escape the           
importunate voice4 ,yet anxiety came up 
around me like a heavy atmosphere2 an   
indescribable sense of disillusion1     
clinging as a damp mist1 brought its    
mildew to the soul1 until my new heaven 
was overcast and my new earth dispeopled
 of all pleasures4 ,then one day the    
fever struck me down1 and of a sudden my
 mind became an arena in which memories 
of earlier life chased one another      
unceasingly in the round of a delirious 
dance4 ,trivial events impressed        
themselves on consciousness with strange

 precision2 objects long forgotten rose 
before me outlined in fire--one1 a pane 
of stained glass in ,fairford ,church1  
with a lost soul peering in anguish     
through the red bars of hell4 ,each and 
every apparition was of the old life2   
all were emissaries from the forsaken   
,west summoning me back to my renounced 
allegiance4 ,when the fever left me1    
returning reason slowly brought order   
amid the welter of confused ideas1 as   
the ants sorted the grain for distracted
 ,psyche1 and for the first time ,i     
considered in the detachment of         
reminiscence the nature of my action in 
leaving ,england4 ,i sifted the evidence
 at length as ,i lay under the verandah 
slowly recovering strength2 and when at 
last judgment was delivered1 it took the
 necessary form of condemnation4  ,i saw
 now that unless a man is prepared to   
discard every western usage1 to slough  
off his inherited cast of thought1 to   
renounce his faith1 wholly and finally  
to abandon his country and his father's 

house1 his flight is but the blind      
expedient of cowardice or pride4 ,here  
and there may be born one who can so cut
 himself off from the parent stem as to 
endure a fruitful grafting upon an      
oriental stock1 but ,i knew that ,i at  
least was none such4 ,i was no more     
prepared for so uncompromising a        
renunciation than any other weakling who
 seeks prestige by parade of exotic     
wisdom1 and deems himself a seer if he  
can but name the ,triad1 or tell the    
avatars of ,vishnu1 ,i had not the      
credulity which may justify the honest  
renegade1 and the western blood still   
ran too warmly in my veins4 ,i felt that
 were ,i to stay in the ,east for fifty 
years1 ,i should never reach the supreme
 heights of metaphysical abstraction    
whence men really appear as specks and  
life as a play2 therefore to remain was 
to avow myself a runaway and to live    
henceforth despicable in my own eyes4   
,for over the unfathomable deep of      
oriental custom the torrent of our      

civilization flows unblending1 as in the
 ,druid's legend the twin streams of    
,dee flow clear through ,bala lake1 and 
never mingle with its waters4 ,not for  
our use is that intricate mind which in 
logic needs more than two premises to a 
conclusion1 and in art is intolerant of 
all void space1 entangling its figures  
in labyrinths of ornament which ,maya   
herself might have devised to distract  
the sight from truth4  ,the ,hindu has  
the true dignity of contemplation1 and  
superbly removes himself from the sordid
 greeds of life4 ,but in imagining and  
reviling an abstraction called ,matter1 
he abides in the errors of the first    
,greek sages1 and mines so far beneath  
the trodden earth that when he looks up 
into middle day he sees only the stars  
above him4 ,could ,i have shared the    
eremite's belief that his prayers help  
not merely his own solitary soul but all
 souls travailing through all the world1
 ,i might yet have remained where ,i    
was1 an alien living indifferent to the 

common rule1 like a monk of some shunned
 exotic order4 ,but with convictions    
like mine1 to do so would have brought  
the drear sense of derogation4 ,all the 
miseries of the past were as nothing to 
that2 there was but one manly course--to
 return and gird my loins for a new     
struggle with western life4 ,within a   
month from the time when this course was
 seen to be a duty1 ,i was standing on  
the deck of a homeward-bound steamer1   
watching the harbour lights recede into 
the distance4         99       99       
99       99       99  ,back once more in
 ,england1 ,i threw aside the clinging  
robe of meditation1 and falling upon    
work ravenously1 indulged what genius of
 energy was still alive within me4 ,i   
made haste to adore all that ,i had so  
lately burned1 making life objective1   
revering personal ideals1 and in the    
ordinance of material things finding the
 truest satisfaction of all endeavour4  
,i saw in civilization the world's sole 
hope2 its brisk life and abounding force

 took sudden hold of a fancy enervated  
by dreams4 ,again ,i found a new heaven 
and a new earth1 though earth was now no
 more than man's dinted anvil1 and      
heaven his reservoir of useful light4 ,i
 lived for action and movement2 ,i      
mingled eagerly with my fellows1 and    
cursed the folly which had driven me to 
waste three years in an intellectual    
swoon4 ,now the day was not long enough 
for work1 ,lebanon was not sufficient to
 burn4 ,i saw the western man with      
race-dust on his cheeks1 or throned in  
the power-houses of the world1 moving   
upon iron platforms and straight ladders
 in the mid throb and tumult of         
encompassing engines4 ,one false step1  
and he must fall a crushed and mutilated
 thing4 ,yet unconcerned as one         
strolling at large1 he controlled the   
great wheels and plunging pistons1 and  
brought them to a standstill with a     
touch of his finger4 ,the confidence and
 strenuous ease of such life compelled  
me to marvel and admire1 and ,i who had 

so lately lain at the feet of eastern   
sages1 set up this mechanician as my    
god4 ,if ,i looked back at all to the   
land of dreams1 the placid figure       
beneath the ,tree of ,enlightenment took
 on the aspect of a fool's idol1 ignobly
 self-manacled1 pitiful and irksome in  
remembrance4  ,but if once more ,i      
dreamed of finality in change ,i        
deceived myself1 forgetting that ,god   
,himself cannot unmake the past or undo 
what is done4 ,a year had hardly gone by
 in this new apprenticeship to life1    
when at moments of weariness or         
overstrain sharp doubts shot through me 
and were gone again1 like twinges of    
sudden pain recalling old disease to one
 who has lulled himself with dreams of  
cure4 ,the feeling of fellowship with   
men grew weaker1 and as it waned ,i     
began to shrink once more from my kind4 
,i still believed myself happy1 but     
happiness seemed to need constant       
affirmation1 as though it could make no 
way in my favour without display of     

token or credential to confirm its      
truth4 ,there were pauses in the clatter
 and jangle of life2 the revolutions of 
the great wheels sometimes slowed into  
silence2 and as these interludes grew   
more frequent1 ,i caught myself         
repeating that ,i really was content4   
,the faint assurance given1 ,i flung    
myself with devouring industry upon my  
allotted task1 trying to stifle the     
forebodings which prophesied against my 
peace4  ,in one such pause my old self  
appeared before me again1 like the face 
of an ancient enemy looking in from the 
darkness2 stealthy footfalls which of   
late ,i had so often seemed to hear were
 now referred to their true cause as we 
saw each other eye to eye4 ,the old     
,adam had awakened and was come for his 
inheritance2 and the vision of him there
 across the pane gazing in upon his own1
 seemed to arraign me for disowning a   
brother and denying his indefeasible    
right4 ,i recognized that with this     
familiar form cold reason had returned  

to oust the hopes and emotions which had
 usurped her office4 ,my rush for       
freedom had ended1 as such sallies often
 do1 in exhaustion1 capture and despair2
 upon the thrill and thunder of the     
charge followed the silence of the      
dungeon and the anguish of stiffening   
wounds4 ,the truth1 so simply written   
that a child might have spelled it1 lay 
clear before me3 ,i had left reformation
 till too late4 ,i was too old to       
change4  ,even a few years before1 ,i   
might have dashed out1 like ,marmion1   
from the prison-fortress2 but now the   
opportunity was past and the portcullis 
was down4 ,my character with all its    
faults was formed within me2 and the    
very years which ,i had passed in the   
wilderness1 instead of averting the     
danger1 had set the final seal upon my  
fate1 for when a man has reached a      
certain point in life he is intractable 
to the reforming hand4 ,but though at   
last ,i knew myself beaten1 and helpless
 in the hands of an implacable power1 ,i

 fluttered like a wounded bird and      
sought wildly for a loophole of escape4 
,i could no longer hope to stand alone  
against destiny2 that conceit was gone3 
could ,i find a comrade to help me      
through the press and lift me when ,i   
fell8 ,but here the invincible pride of 
shyness barred the way1 forbidding alike
 any confession of weakness or any      
appeal to man's compassion4 ,i could not
 bring myself to say3 ,i am unable to   
rule my life1 do you undertake it for   
me4 ,was marriage a conceivable path of 
redemption8 ,i had never envisaged it   
before1 but now1 in my desperation1 ,i  
dreamed it for a moment a possible      
issue4 ,i even fixed upon the person who
 should thus save me from myself1 and   
beguiled many lonely hours by picturing 
her charms and enumerating her noble    
qualities4  ,she lived in a country     
house where ,i had been several times a 
guest1 and she had one of those faces   
which1 in ,gray's beautiful expression1 
speak the language of all nations4 ,her 

features had that sunny charm which     
thaws mistrust2 she was dowered with all
 graces and sweet qualities2 and you    
could no more have doubted the immanent 
nobility of her nature than you could   
have dreamed a stain in the texture of a
 white petal4 ,and with all her         
gentleness there was present ,i know not
 what sign and promise of strength1     
waking in those who saw her an intuitive
 trust in loyalty of uttermost proof4   
,she would have flamed indignant against
 evil1 but only evil could have moved   
her from that equal poise of soul which 
made her entrance into a room the       
prelude to higher thoughts and finer    
feelings4 ,she was naturally kind       
without consciousness of a mission1     
neither seeking to enslave nor          
enfranchise1 but by a silent outflowing 
of goodness ennobling whatever company  
she was in4 ,nor was her tongue the     
prattling servant of her beauty1 but a  
guide of cheerful converse2 for just as 
she charmed without device or scheme of 

fascination1 so she possessed the art of
 speaking well without seeming to have  
ever studied it4 ,in the chase after    
just and felicitous ideas1 she could    
lead or follow over the most varied     
fields with the intuition of the        
huntress born4 ,with all these          
excellences1 her wit1 her sincerity1 her
 ardour for all things bright and true1 
she had no conceit of herself but kept  
her father's house in gladness and loved
 the country-side4  ,to her1 in these   
days of imminent dismay1 my thoughts    
flew out as to a fair protecting saint2 
until the inspiration of her visionary  
presence wrought in my fancy with such a
 dramaturgic power1 that ,i seemed to   
walk daily with her1 and to know all    
those delicate and sweet propinquities  
by which liking passes into affection   
and affection is glorified into love4   
,so far did these happy day-dreams carry
 me1 that they brought me to the extreme
 of imaginary bliss1 and poured out for 
me the wine of untempered joy which     

thrills the hearts of lovers on the     
verge of their betrothal4 ,the dreams   
that followed that magic draught denied 
me no convincing touch of circumstance1 
and projected upon a credible and       
familiar scene the bright possibilities 
to which fate denied a real existence4  
,the scene was always the same1 and the 
words and movements which entranced me  
followed each other with almost         
religious exactitude of detail which the
 adult demands of his day-dreams and the
 child of the fairy-tale he loves4  ,it 
was always a ,june afternoon when we    
went out together1 into the meadows near
 her home2 she moving with fluent grace 
as befitted a daughter of the woods1 her
 eyes indrawing joy from all nature1 her
 hair reflecting rich gold of the       
sunlight1 her whole face lit with the   
pleasure of a bright hour2 ,i a mere    
satellite attendant upon its central    
star4 ,we strolled through the four     
home-meadows1 crossed a high-banked lane
 and a dingle with a brook running down 

it1 and then from an open common flooded
 with sunlight passed into a wood of    
tallest beeches4 ,in that cool1 shadowy 
place the sun1 searching a way through  
crannies in the upper verdure1 chequered
 with patches of silver light the even  
mast-strewn floor4 ,the multitude of    
smooth grey stems rose aligned like     
cathedral columns2 and the grateful     
dimness of the wood1 succeeding the     
glare of day1 wakened a sense of        
purposed protection and quietude        
pervading all things1 which soothed the 
mind with the illusion that this was a  
sacred spot appointed for an offering of
 souls4 ,near one of those isles of     
sunlight we lingered2 and as she looked 
up to the source of light1 the movement 
brought her face near the slanting shaft
 of rays1 until there was set round it  
an aureole of dancing beams4 ,it seemed 
to me at this part of my dream that     
there came to both of us some gracious  
influence1 for as her eyes met mine they
 dropped again1 and were fixed for a    

moment upon the wild flowers she        
carried4 ,then my heart began to beat   
and my whole being to grow greater3     
impassioned words1 to that hour         
unconceived1 came rushing to my lips2   
the fire and glory of a new manhood were
 kindling in me to the transformation of
 my nature--when1 in the very moment of 
utterance1 a sheer barrier of doom      
descended between me and my joy2 the    
fire was quenched1 and my soul was      
poured out within me4  ,to this fatal   
point my fancy always brought me and no 
further1 that coming thus to the        
threshold of the house of joy and       
hearing the bars shoot into their       
sockets ,i might thoroughly know my     
ineffectual self and leave untouched the
 forbidden latch4 ,so far ,i came in my 
dream times without number2 and always  
on the verge of joy there came that     
doom1 and the shooting of those         
adamantine bolts4  ,yet all the while ,i
 wove it1 ,i knew that this texture of  
dreams must soon be drawn aside1 and    

like the curtain in the tragedy reveal  
at last the horror concealed within4    
,such brooding was but the deception of 
a reluctant spirit dallying and delaying
 with any trifle by the way to put off  
the arrival at the hill of evil         
prospect4 ,at last ,i learned the lesson
 of this abrupt ending to the dream at  
the point of full disillusion2 it forced
 itself upon me with the power of an    
oracular utterance warning me to cease  
my palterings with fate4 ,my reason now 
rebuked me like a stern judge1          
dissecting all false pleas and laying   
bare their weakness4 ,what right had ,i1
 now knowing myself incurable1 even to  
dream of easing my own pain by darkening
 and despoiling a second life8 ,the love
 of solitude was now more to me than    
even the love of a wife2 it would surely
 come between us like a strange woman1  
and fill a pure heart with bitterness4  
,no smiling hopes of a possible         
redemption could annul the immutable    
decree1 and if ,i disobeyed the warning1

 guilt as well as misery would be mine2 
for he is pitiful indeed who only weds  
that his wife may suck the poison from  
his wounds4 ,if ,i married ,i should    
stand for ever condemned of an          
unutterable meanness4 ,so ,i dispelled  
my dreams and looked reality in the     
face4  ,it was a dismal prospect that   
lay before me4 ,until then the future   
had held its possible secrets1 its      
imaginable revelations of change1 which1
 like the luminous suggestions in dark  
clouds1 allured with a promise of a     
brief and penetrable gloom4 ,in my      
darkest hours ,i had lulled fear by the 
thought of a haply interposing          
,providence1 and drifted on from day to 
aimless day nursing the hope of some    
miraculous release upon the very steps  
of the scaffold4 ,but now ,i was twice  
fallen2 and as a man abandoned by the   
last illusion of deliverance calls ruin 
to him1 and in the new leisure of       
despair calmly scans the features at    
which but now he dared not glance1 so ,i

 saw as in a hard grey light the true   
outlines of my destiny4 ,the wreathing  
mist1 the profound soft shadows1 the    
clouds with their promise of mutability1
 were now all gone1 leaving the bare    
framework of a world arid and severe as 
a lunar landscape4  ,i seemed to be     
sitting in the dust1 as in inmost ,asia 
a sick man may crouch abandoned1 while  
the caravan in which all his earthly    
hopes are centred goes inexorably upon  
its way4 ,the blue sky flushes to deep  
purple before him2 night falls2 all     
colour is swallowed up in darkness1     
until the jingling camel-bells receding 
up the pass cross the dividing ridge1   
and for him the last silence is begun4  
,such then was the end of youthful      
ambition3 for food a mouthful of ashes  
instead of the very marrow of joy2 for  
home not the free ocean1 but a stagnant 
pool ringed with weeping willows1 a     
log's fit floating-place4 ,here to      
float1 marking the weed creep onward    
until all from bank to bank was         

overfilmed1 and there remained no clear 
water of space for reflection of a      
single star3 to float1 and feel the     
sodden fibres of life loosening in slow 
decay--this was to be the last state of 
the seedling which had sprung up on the 
mountain slopes with promise of mighty  
stem and overarching branches full of   
sap like the cedars of the ,lord4  ,my  
life henceforth was to be ringed round  
and overhung with so heavy an air that  
joy and fancy should never fly in it1   
but fall dead as the birds above        
,avernus according to the ancient story4
 ,i seemed to see nothing upon the path 
of the future but the stern form of     
,renunciation drawing between me and the
 living world the impassable circle of  
death in life1 the ultima linea rerum4  
,it was the last decree1 the irrevocable
 sentence1 the absolute end3 and ,i had 
not yet reached half the ,psalmist's    
span2 ,i had not yet forgotten the lost 
summer mornings when the breeze scented 
with lilac came blowing through the     

casement1 bearing with it the sound of  
glad voices welcoming the day4          
,philosophers are prone to gird at the  
animal in man1 accusing it of dragging  
the soul down to the mire in which it   
wallows4 ,they forget that by its brutal
 insistence upon physical needs it often
 preserves from madness1 and timely     
arrests him who goes like a sleep-walker
 upon the verge of the abyss4 ,weariness
 and hunger are like brakes upon the    
car2 they stop the dire momentum of     
grief1 and insure that if misery will   
again drive us furiously1 she must lash 
winded steeds anew4 ,but what force     
should stay a disembodied sorrow1 which 
unbreathed by period or alternation of  
despair1 should be rapt onward in the   
whirlwind and the hurricane1 gathering  
eternally a fresh impetus of woe8 ,let  
us rail at the body for its weakness if 
we will1 but prize it also for its      
restraint of the distracted mind4 ,in   
the worst hour of my dejection it was   
the body which called the lost reason   

home4 ,i became hungry and ate1 hardly  
knowing what ,i did2 ,i slept exhaustion
 away2 and after many hours awoke with  
clearer eyes1 grateful to the weak      
flesh1 and ready in its company to face 
life once more1 a defeated but not a    
desperate man4 ,i was glad to be thus   
reminded that the body could play this  
helpful part1 and my gratitude for its  
timely rescue taught me in after days to
 endure its tyranny with a better grace4
 ,in the interlude between despair and  
new effort1 ,i once more turned a       
dispassionate gaze upon myself1 as upon 
some abandoned slave of a drug2 and     
maintaining an attitude of half-amused  
detachment1 sought by a diagnosis of my 
case to establish the real causes of my 
failure to lead a normal life4  ,at the 
outset ,i would make it clear that for  
me the only shyness that counts1 is that
 which is so deeply ingrained1 as to    
have outlasted youth4 ,it may1 indeed1  
be physically related to that transient 
bashfulness which haunts so many of us  

in our younger days only to vanish at   
maturity1 swift as the belated ghost at 
cockcrow4 ,but unlike this common       
accident of growth1 it is no            
surface-defect1 but an inward stain     
which dyes the very fibres of the being4
 ,it may1 indeed1 be somewhat bleached  
and diminished by a timely and skilful  
treatment1 but is become too much a part
 of life to be ever wholly washed away4 
,and the unhappy step-children of nature
 whose inheritance it is1 seldom find a 
deliverer good at need2 for as the world
 draws no distinction between their     
grave affliction and that other         
remediable misery of youth1 it will     
sanction no other treatment than banter 
or mockery1 which does but infuse yet   
more deeply the mournful dye4 ,when this
 fails1 it leaves its victims to the    
desolation which according to its       
judgment they have wilfully chosen2 for 
the most part ignoring their existence1 
but often chastising them with          
scorpion-stings of disdain4 ,yet the    

subjects of this scorn1 sufferers as ,i 
believe from a hereditary tendency      
matured by neglect into disease1 deserve
 a more merciful usage than this1 and   
their plea for extenuating circumstances
 should not be too impatiently rejected4
 ,for in them what is to most men a     
transient ailment has thrown down       
permanent roots to draw a nourishment   
from pain3 and he who is fortunate      
enough to be whole should think twice   
before he makes sport of those in this  
distress4  ,to me this malady seems to  
arise from an antinomy between the      
physical and intellectual elements of   
the personality1 from an unhappy        
marriage of mind and body1 suffering the
 lower of the two partners to abase the 
life of the higher by the long-drawn    
misery of a hateful but indissoluble    
union4 ,when the physical and mental    
natures in a man are happily attuned1   
there is a fair concord in his life and 
the outward expression of his being is  
an unimpeded process1 to which1 as to   

the functions of a healthy organism1 no 
heedful thought is given4 ,if both      
natures are of the finest temper1 they  
find utterance in a noble amiability and
 ease of manner2 if both are coarse in  
the grain1 they blend in a naive freedom
 always sure of itself1 the freedom of  
,sancho spreading himself in the        
duchess's boudoir4 ,between these two   
extremes there intervene a hundred      
compromises by which minds and bodies   
less equally yoked contrive to muffle   
the discordant notes of an inharmonious 
wedlock4  ,in most cases use gives to   
this politic agreement the peace and    
permanence of settled habit2 the body   
proves itself so far amenable that it is
 accepted as a needful if uninspiring   
companion1 and its plain usefulness ends
 by dulling the edged criticisms of the 
mind4 ,but wherever there is a permanent
 incompatibility too profound for       
compromise1 an elemental difference     
keeping the personality continually     
distraught1 then shyness1 in the sense  

in which ,i understand it1 assumes its  
inalienable dominion4 ,the flame of     
rebellion may smoulder unobserved while 
the sufferer is in his own home1 but    
among strangers it will blaze fiercely1 
as the mind protests against the        
misinterpretations of its unworthy      
partner4 ,this burning shame is not the 
proof of a foolish conceit1 as          
unsympathetic criticism proclaims it1   
but the visible misery of a keen spirit 
thwarted by physical defect4 ,the man   
who manifests it is angered with himself
 because through a physical hindrance he
 has failed to take the place which     
would otherwise be his4 ,he is proud1 it
 may be1 but not fatuous2 for shyness as
 a rule implies a comparative quickness 
and alertness of intellect3 its         
exceeding sensibility is exclusive of   
dulness2 and it is frequently due to the
 presence in a reluctant body of a mind 
endowed with active powers4  ,inasmuch  
as diffidence appears where the subtler 
formalities of life are compulsory1 it  

is clear that it essentially belongs to 
the class called gentle1 for this class 
alone enforces that exacting code of    
etiquette to which our discomfiture is  
so largely due4 ,shyness has seldom     
place in the patriarchal life where men 
live1 sound1 without care1 every man    
under his own vine or his own fig-tree1 
nor among those who1 perforce pursuing a
 too laborious existence1 have no       
leisure for superficial refinements4    
,though here and there you may find a   
,joseph ,poorgrass1 it is rare among the
 simple2 it is not a popular weakness1  
and therefore wins no popular sympathy4 
,such is its first social limitation3 it
 is almost restricted to the classes    
which are outwardly refined4  ,but it   
has another limitation of equal         
importance which may be described as    
climatic2 for this malady is not found  
in equal degrees all over the habitable 
globe4 ,there are many lands where it   
hardly exists at all even among the     
class which is alone liable to it2 and  

in its serious form it is found only    
over a small part of the earth4 ,there  
are many causes which conduce to this   
partial distribution4 ,in one country   
manners are not minutely schooled1 women
 being held of secondary account1 and   
men content without subtlety2 in        
another1 life is in itself too primitive
 to devise the artifices of refinement2 
in a third1 the fundamental disunion    
between the mind and the physical       
organism is prevented by the kindly hand
 of nature4 ,for these reasons all the  
savage world1 all the ,east1 and the    
whole of southern ,europe have little   
knowledge of the diffident1 and what    
zoologists would call the area of       
distribution of the species is confined 
within narrow geographical limits4  ,it 
is in fact chiefly in the north and west
 of our own continent that the haunts of
 the diffident are to be found1 for     
there alone are all the conditions      
necessary to their maintenance          
fulfilled--a society sufficiently       

leisured and wealthy to have elaborated 
conventional rules of intercourse1 the  
assemblage of both sexes upon an equal  
footing1 and a climate which exaggerates
 the antagonism between the quick mind  
and the unresponsive body4 ,here the    
cold humid airs have produced a race    
with great limbs and great appetites1   
but compensated these gifts by a certain
 unreadiness in the delicate encounter  
of wits and graces4 ,to these impassive 
natures all displays of the personality 
are distasteful1 and the lighter social 
arts1 seeming both insignificant and    
histrionic1 are learned with difficulty 
and practised with repugnance4 ,an      
awkwardness of address1 in the          
uneducated almost bovine1 becomes in the
 cultivated a painful reserve and       
self-consciousness1 reflecting in open  
physical distress the uneasiness of the 
man's whole being4  ,and among the      
northern nations which are thus         
afflicted ,england has achieved an      
undesirable supremacy1 having herself   

smoothed the path of her eminence by a  
school system which withdraws her youth 
from female influences during the years 
when the tendency to reserve may be     
combated with a certain hope of success4
 ,it would ill become one who has never 
recovered from the effects of such      
deprivation to assume on the ground of  
his own narrow experience any wide      
dissemination of similar defects among  
his countrymen2 his testimony would be  
received with suspicion1 and he would be
 condemned as one who to justify himself
 would drag others down to his own poor 
level4 ,let me therefore place myself on
 surer ground by calling as a witness an
 impartial observer from another        
country1 one exceptionally trained in   
the analysis of national temperament and
 conduct4  ,when ,m4 ,taine visited     
,england towards the close of the       
nineteenth century one of the first     
things to attract his notice was the    
bashfulness which he encountered in     
unexpected places4 ,he was surprised to 

meet travelled and cultured men who were
 habitually embarrassed in society1 and 
so reserved that you might live with    
them six months before you discovered   
half their excellent qualities4 ,to     
unveil their true nature there was      
needed the steady breeze of a serious   
interest or the hurricane of perilous   
times2 the faint airs of courtliness    
could not stir the heavy folds that hung
 before their hearts4 ,these strong men 
could not join in delicate raillery1 but
 shrank back afraid2 as if a tortoise1  
startled by a shower of blossoms1 should
 withdraw into that thick carapace which
 can bear the impact of a rock4 ,there  
was one who stammered pitifully in a    
drawing-room1 but the next day sought   
the suffrages of electors with an       
unembarrassed and fluent eloquence1 so  
proving that his failure came not of    
folly or cowardice1 but from lack of    
training in a certain school of fence4  
,he needed the open air for the play of 
his broadsword2 and to his hand1 apt to 

another hilt1 the foil appeared a       
woman's weapon4 ,speaking of high aims  
and national ideals1 he moved in a large
 place oblivious of himself2 but in the 
social arena he tripped with timid      
steps1 like a man essaying an unfamiliar
 dance4 ,on the platform he had the     
enthusiasm and confidence of an orator2 
on the carpet he could not string three 
sentences in any courtly language4  ,in 
the ,north the art of mercurial         
dialogue1 which in the ,south is a      
natural gift1 is only learned under     
favourable conditions1 and is often     
condemned by those who have it not1 as a
 popinjay's accomplishment4 ,immediate  
cordiality to strangers is frowned upon 
as tending to divorce courtesy from     
truth4 ,it is otherwise with the        
southern peoples4 ,while the ,englishman
 conceals his benevolence by a frigid   
aloofness of manner1 or blurts out      
friendliness like an indiscretion1 the  
,italian is courtly without a second    
thought1 and the ,frenchman seems the   

comrade of a chance acquaintance from   
the moment when he has taken his hand4  
,they are amiable without effort in the 
security of a harmonious nature1 and if 
they encounter diffidence at all1       
observe it like an anthropologist       
confronted with a survival of primitive 
times in the culture of a civilized age4
  ,taine did not err when he found the  
home of shyness among the ,teutonic     
peoples2 he saw that it flourishes in   
climatic conditions acting hardly upon a
 vigorous race1 and only allowing it to 
cultivate ease of manner by effort and  
outlay1 just as they only allow it to   
raise under glass the grapes and oranges
 which more favoured peoples can grow in
 the open air4 ,he saw too that this    
pain of diffidence becomes more subtle  
as the progress of culture makes us more
 sensitive to vague impressions from our
 environment1 and tunes the nerves to a 
higher pitch4 ,a shy nature upon this   
plane of susceptibility suffers anguish 
from an uncontrollable body2 and even in

 peaceful moments the memory of the     
discomfitures so inflicted may distort a
 man's whole view of the world around   
him4 ,he is impatient of the wit which  
demands a versatility in response beyond
 his powers1 and persuades himself into 
contempt of those ephemeral arts to     
which his nature cannot be constrained4 
,irritated at the injustice which places
 so high in the general scale of values 
accomplishments which he cannot         
practise1 shrinking from the suave      
devices of gesture and expression which 
in his own case might quickly pass into 
antic or grimace1 he withdraws more and 
more from the places where such arts win
 esteem to live in a private world of   
inner sentiment4 ,as he leaves this sure
 retreat but rarely himself1 so he      
forbids ingress to others2 and becoming 
yearly a greater recluse1 he confines   
himself more and more within the walls  
of his forbidden city4 ,the mind which  
may have been fitted to expand in the   
free play of intellectual debate or to  

explore the high peaks of idea1 loses   
its power of flight in this cave where  
it dwells with a company of sad         
thoughts1 until at last the sacrifice is
 complete and the perfect eremite is    
formed4  ,but the virile ,teutonic      
spirit does not suffer things to reach  
this ultimate pass without stubborn     
resistance1 and this is one reason why  
shyness is often so conspicuous1 seeming
 deliberately to court an avoidable     
confusion4 ,over and over again it      
forces the recalcitrant body back into  
the arena1 preferring repeated          
humiliation to a pusillanimous          
surrender4 ,people often wonder at the  
recklessness with which the shy expose  
themselves to disaster1 forgetting that 
in this insistence of a soul under      
discomfiture1 there is evidence of a    
moral strength which is its own reward4 
,what discipline is harder than that    
which conscientious diffidence imposes  
upon itself8 ,to stand forth and endure1
 though every instinct implores retreat1

 is a true assertion of the higher self 
for the satisfaction of imperious duty4 
,such deliberate return towards         
suffering is no cowardice1 but a triumph
 over weak flesh2 and the awkward strife
 of diffidence may often prove a greater
 feat of arms than the supple fence of  
self-possession4  ,like the physical    
obstacles1 the mists1 the snows and     
bleak winds1 which have hardened the    
fibre of northern men1 diffidence as an 
obstacle to ease has its place among the
 causes of strong character2 and those  
who appear at a first glance weak and   
ineffectual as ,hamlet1 will often in   
the light of knowledge be found guided  
by the most inflexible moral            
determination4 ,they see1 as in a       
mirage1 peace supreme and adorable1 but 
may not tread the hermit's path that    
leads to her dwelling4 ,only a religious
 vow might justify the abandonment of   
the human struggle1 and even that       
appears desertion4 ,the stern genius of 
the ,north grudges immurement1 even to  

great piety1 remembering that ,christ   
himself remained but forty days in the  
desert and then returned to deliver the 
world4 ,if he had remained there all his
 life1 and never met the ,pharisees and 
high-priests1 our forefathers would have
 rejected his law4 ,for this reason     
there can be no more rest for the shy   
than for starving ,tantalus2 for this   
reason my flight into the ,east had been
 foredoomed to failure4  ,if shyness is 
thus affected by climate and geography1 
its birth and growth are also           
conditioned by historical causes4 ,just 
as it is the peculiar failing of        
northern and western peoples1 so it is  
the creation of comparatively modern    
times2 it had no place among the        
classified weaknesses of men until these
 peoples began in their turn to make    
history4  ,in ,greece1 where limb and   
thought were consentient in one grace of
 motion1 the body was too perfect an    
expression of the mind to admit any     
consciousness of discord2 the greater   

simplicity of a life passed largely in  
the open air1 left no place for         
awkwardness in the franker converse of  
man with man4 ,moreover the seclusion of
 women rendered unnecessary that        
complicated code of manners which the   
freer intercourse of the sexes has built
 up in later times as a barrier against 
brutality or the unseemly selfishness of
 passion4 ,in ,greece the words of the  
witty and the wise could be heard in the
 market-place2 good conversation was not
 for the few alone2 and the common man  
might of unquestioned right approach the
 circle of ,socrates or ,plato4 ,the    
sense of community was everywhere1      
overthrowing reserve1 and propitious to 
the universal growth of fellowship4  ,in
 the ,roman world things were changed2  
there were more closed doors and courts 
impenetrable of access4 ,insignia of    
office1 gradations of wealth and rank1  
sundered those of high estate from      
classes which now acknowledged their own
 inferiority2 privacies1 exclusions1    

distinctions innumerable1 altered the   
face of public life as the easy mos     
majorum was confined by the ordinances  
of encroaching fashion4 ,it was now that
 women began to be cast for leading     
parts upon the great stage of life4     
,under the ,empire1 by the rapid removal
 of her disabilities the ,roman matron  
achieved a position of independence     
which made her1 according to her nature1
 a potent force of good or evil4 ,it was
 now that the intricate threads of      
social prescription were woven into that
 ceremonial mantle which was afterwards 
to sit so uneasily on the shoulders of  
barbarian men4  ,but the time for       
shyness was not yet come1 for ,italy is 
a sunny land where clear air makes clear
 minds1 blandly or keenly observant of  
the world1 and never impelled by onset  
of outer mists and darkness to tend a   
flickering light within themselves4     
,there was melancholy1 high and stately1
 such as ,lucretius knew1 when he went  
lonely among the homesteads or along the

 shore2 but it was too exalted to be one
 with diffidence1 for he who will hold  
the sum of things in his thoughts walks 
on clouds above the heads of men1 free  
of all misgiving4 ,perhaps beyond the   
,alps1 in some ,rhaetian upland where   
,roman dignity was interfused with old  
barbaric roughness1 the first signs of  
our malady were perceived and the first 
ancestor of all the shy was born4 ,but  
even yet the time was not ripe1 nor the 
place prepared4 ,christianity had to    
come1 turning men's eyes inwards and    
proclaiming the error of the objective  
pagan way4 ,a new feeling1 the sense of 
personal unworthiness before ,god1      
spreading through the ,roman world1 now 
stirred mankind to still communing with 
themselves1 and sanctioned the stealing 
away from the noisy festivals of life4  
,by enjoining a search into the depths  
of the heart1 it encouraged the growth  
of a self-consciousness hitherto        
unknown4 ,it was not always a panic of  
contrition1 sweeping the joyous out of  

the sunlight into a monastic shade1     
which brought the troubled into a new   
way of peace1 but sometimes a quiet joy 
in renunciation1 congruous with a timid 
mood1 leading by gradual allurement to  
cloisters of shadowy lanes and cells    
which were forest bowers4 ,the new faith
 gave open sanction to evasion of the   
banquet1 and thus fortified and         
increased those who loved not the       
ceremonial day4 ,the spirit of solitude1
 no more a maenad1 but a nun1 sheltered 
earth's children in the folds of her    
robe1 and no man said her nay4          
,moreover1 ,christianity quickened the  
force of that feminine influence which  
,rome had first set flowing through the 
civilized world1 but diverted the stream
 from irregular and torrential courses  
into a smooth channel gliding amid      
sacred groves4 ,it clothed woman with   
ideal grace and virtue1 and perceived in
 her powers which the virile mind could 
never wield4 ,inesse quinetiam sanctum  
aliquid et providum putant1 nec aut     

consilia earum aspernantur1 nec responsa
 negligunt4 ,so our ancestors held in   
the northern woods1 and ,christianity1  
purifying and expanding their belief1   
fulfilled it with a new perfection4     
,but this gradual binding of all men's  
limbs in silken cords of reverence1     
making a rude world civil1 was now to   
inaugurate for diffidence its miserable 
career4 ,through the rough deference of 
the ,german camp1 through the ,provencal
 code of courtoisie1 up to the modern   
law of fine manners1 the drudge and     
chattel of the primeval tribe has risen 
to impose her law upon the modern world4
 ,earth is better for this finer power1 
but social intercourse is less sincere4 
,for woman1 having curbed the brute man 
by conventional restraints of outward   
demeanour1 has made human intercourse   
smooth and seemly1 but imposed upon     
mankind the wearing of unnatural masks4 
,before the multitude of locked souls   
with labels of smiling faces the        
sensitive nature feels itself mocked1   

and is soon distraught4 ,it cannot      
suffer convention gladly for an ultimate
 good1 but is chilled by this           
everlasting urbanity1 which must1 it    
fancies1 be compact of irony and conceal
 a disingenuous soul4  ,all this        
finished science of illusion is like an 
east wind to the confidences of the shy1
 and if they stay within its range they 
are blighted before their hearts have   
time to unfold4 ,they long for a less   
biting air1 for vernal hours in         
sheltered dells1 where without sheaths  
and unguarded the hearts of flowers lie 
open to their neighbours and to heaven4 
,there was once a simple day when       
religion set hearts interflowing1 but   
now it can melt them only within the    
precincts2 the fire which is carried    
from the altar is dead at the church    
door4 ,the brotherliness of those early 
days is indeed often found in humble    
walks of life1 but these we cannot      
continually tread1 because our          
intellectual and artistic tastes find   

there no sufficient nurture4 ,among the 
cultured a cold convention often reigns1
 behind which only a more persistent    
nature than ours can pass4 ,unless1     
therefore1 we find our way into some    
circle of gentle scholars or lovers of  
the beautiful quite simple in their     
tastes1 a thing possible but not often  
granted by a niggard fortune1 we are    
perforce thrown back upon our own       
company1 and move towards the grave     
alone4 ,for this we accuse none2 nothing
 is more at fault than our own          
constitution4 ,but to us society is a   
school of dames1 who are not to be      
blamed if amid the crowd that clamours  
for their teaching1 they find no time   
for the backward scholar4 ,we are the   
dunces of the school1 and are dismissed 
without learning the accomplishments set
 forth upon the prospectus4 ,that is why
 in our northern streets so many seeming
 hats are cowls4  ,in ,england the loss 
of congenial intercourse is perhaps more
 certain than in other lands4 ,for      

through his national reserve the        
highly-cultured ,englishman has a cold  
perfection of good breeding to which    
heartiness is vulgarity2 he emanates    
intimidation1 and in courtesy is rather 
studious than spontaneous1 seldom genial
 but in an ancient friendship4 ,if you  
knew him to the concealed heart1 and    
were suffered to assay the fine metal   
beneath this polished surface1 you would
 win a golden friendship2 but only on a 
desert island would he permit the       
operation4 ,to the shy who may encumber 
his path his bearing seems marked by an 
indifference which they magnify into    
aversion1 and are thereby the worse     
confounded4 ,in a land where such       
convention reigns they go through life  
like persons afflicted with a partial   
deafness2 between them and the happier  
world there is as it were a crystalline 
wall which the pleasant low voices of   
confidence can never traverse4  ,i say1 
then1 that the real1 the enduring       
shyness is that inveteration of reserve 

to which a few men in a few countries   
are miserably condemned4 ,others know it
 as a transient inconvenience1 as the   
croup or measles of childhood2 but in us
 it is obstinate and ineradicable as    
grave disease4 ,if out of the long      
frustration of our efforts to be whole  
some strain of bitterness passes into   
our nature2 if sometimes we burn with   
unjust resentment against the fate      
which1 suffers such lives as ours to be 
prolonged1 let it be remembered in      
extenuation that to those who bear a    
double burden human charity owes the    
larger kindliness4 ,for though like you 
we bear our share of common troubles1 ,o
 happier men and women1 the common      
pleasures and compensations which are as
 wings upon your shoulders are heavy    
packs on ours4 ,the cheerful contrasts  
are for you alone2 for us the bright    
threads interwoven in the dark stuff of 
life were faded before they reached the 
loom4  ,you who have the friendships and
 affections without which you would not 

care to live a day1 think more kindly of
 those to whom the interludes of toil   
are often harder than the toil itself4  
,of your charity believe our fate       
ordained and not the choice of our own  
perversity2 for what man born of woman  
would choose a path so sad1 were there  
not within him some guiding and         
possessing devil which he could in      
nowise cast out8 ,never will in maddest 
hours of freedom consented to such doom2
 we were condemned at birth1 our threads
 were spoiled upon the fingers of the   
,norns4         99       99       99    
99       99  ,such in its broader       
outlines seemed the infirmity which had 
grown with my growth1 and now had to be 
reckoned with1 like the bridle of       
,theages1 as a permanent hindrance to a 
reasonable happiness4 ,old hopes lay    
shattered about me--well1 ,i had to pick
 up the fragments and piece together a  
less ambitious ideal4  ,i will not      
linger over the forces which helped my  
resolution1 the great and general       

remedies which come to the relief of men
 in like evil case4 ,religion1          
philosophy1 art1 science1               
literature--all promised their anodynes 
against despair2 slowly they stirred in 
me anew those springs of interest in    
life which disillusion seemed to have   
choked for ever4 ,i rose up1 and looking
 round upon the world saw that it was   
still good2 and there came into my      
memory brave words which a golden book  
puts in the mouths of its indomitable   
knights3 ,i will take the adventure     
which ,god shall ordain me4 ,i now      
perceived that if evil fortune had      
unhorsed me it had yet left me endurance
 to continue the combat on foot4 ,my    
second failure was more final and       
disastrous than the first discomfiture  
in earlier life1 but now the plague of  
pessimism was stayed by a greater       
recuperative power4 ,those long hours of
 the long eastern day1 spent under the  
verandah with books of many ages and    
languages1 had not been altogether      

fruitless2 they had helped to mature a  
wider and more catholic taste than that 
of restless youth1 the kind of culture  
that brings not rebellion but peace4    
,in my eastern watch-tower ,i had       
re-read the great books from a new point
 of vantage1 and let the eye roam over  
fields of literature which lie beyond   
the undergraduate's bounds2 by a still  
permeation of fine influence1 my crude  
philosophy was unconsciously mellowed1  
as the surface of ivory1 according to   
,roman belief1 by the bland air of      
,tibur4 ,for by the mere being in an    
atmosphere of serenity our nature grows 
porous to gracious influences streaming 
in we know not how or when1 and taking  
their abode in our very grain and       
structure4 ,and so without consciousness
 of good desert1 ,i found myself        
confident in a new discipline1 and      
looking for the word of command from    
wiser leaders than ,byron or the        
youthful ,shelley4 ,queen ,mab was now  
the saddest rhetoric1 and ,childe       

,harold's plaint unseemly lamentation2  
,i had erased from my calendar of saints
 the names of apostles of affliction    
once held in honour2 the ,caliph        
,amurath with his tale of fourteen happy
 days out of a long life of royal       
opportunity2 ,swift with his birthday   
lection from ,jeremiah4 ,rather there   
trooped into memory with a quiet pomp   
and induction of joy1 forms of men who1 
though justified in rebellion by every  
human suffrage1 remained loyal to the   
end and proved by endurance a more      
imperial humanity4 ,socrates unperturbed
 by mortal injustice2 ,dante a deep     
harmonious voice amid jangling          
destinies2 ,william the ,silent serene  
in every desperate conjecture--these    
seemed now the more perfect captains4   
,if exile had done no more than transfer
 my allegiance to such as these1 ,i had 
not borne the lash in vain4  ,but at the
 first setting out upon this later stage
 ,i had still mistakes to make1 and the 
ascent to tranquillity was not to be    

accomplished without stumbling4 ,it was 
the old ,roman creed which first drew me
 away from fretting memories2 in its    
high restraint1 as of a hushed yet      
mighty wind1 it breathed a power of     
valiant endurance1 and promised before  
nightfall the respite of a twilight     
hour4 ,for stoicism has qualities which 
seem foreordained for the bracing of shy
 souls1 as if the men who framed its    
austere laws had prescience of our      
frailty and consciously legislated to   
its intention4 ,it is the philosophy of 
the individual standing by himself1 as  
the shy must always stand1 over against 
a world which he likes not but may not  
altogether shun4 ,and in this proud     
estrangement it promises release from   
all the inquisition of morbid fears1 and
 an imperturbable calm above the need of
 earthly friends or comfort or          
happiness2 it plants the feet upon that 
path of nature along which a man may go 
strongly1 consoled in solitude by a     
god-like sense of self-reliance4 ,this  

immutable confidence is the essential   
power of stoicism1 which does not1 like 
the great oriental religions1 tame      
personality by ruthless maiming1 but    
teaches it to bear the brunt of         
adversities erect1 like an athlete      
finely trained4 ,its very arrogance1 its
 sufficiency1 perforce commend it to    
those whose instinct urges to           
self-abasement3 its lofty disregard of  
adverse circumstance is medical to their
 timidity4  ,and so in the hour of my   
bereavement its voice inspired to       
resistance like a bugle sounding the    
advance2 its echoes rang with the       
assurance that man was not made to be   
the worm of ,eden1 darkly creeping in   
the dust1 but rather its noblest        
creature1 with the light crowning his   
head and the winds tossing his hair4    
,and then its strong simplicity1 so     
masculine and unemotional1 was grateful 
to one now finally dismated1 and so     
cruelly handled as to have1 it seemed1  
no use for a heart any more4 ,better let

 feeling die than be betrayed by        
diffidence into the denial of its true  
allegiance1 or into expressions of the  
inner life false and wry as the strange 
laughter which the doomed suitors in    
,ithaca could not control4 ,though it   
stifled feeling1 the creed of ,cleanthes
 exalted the intellect1 which was all   
that now remained to me unimpaired2     
surely it was the appointed rule for one
 henceforth to be severed from the      
passions and enthusiasms through which  
humanity errs and is happy4  ,the world1
 the wise ,stoic seemed to say1 is      
twofold in its nature4 ,some things may 
be changed by man1 others are by his    
utmost effort immutable4 ,god has       
implanted in you a right reason by      
which1 when it is well trained1 you can 
infallibly distinguish between the two1 
avoiding thus all unworthy fretfulness  
and all idle kicking against the pricks4
 ,therefore he has made you for         
happiness2 for the joy of men is an     
achievement2 and their misery in the    

coveting of the unattainable end4 ,if   
you would fulfil his benevolent design1 
seek only what has been placed in your  
power1 frankly resigning all that lies  
beyond2 but be ever difficult in        
renunciation2 test and sound well every 
issue1 lest you leave a permitted good  
undone1 than which nothing is a greater 
sin4 ,to be loyal1 to be contented1 to  
acquiesce in all things save only in    
ameliorable evil1 this is to live       
according to nature1 which is ,god's    
administration4 ,if you are assiduous in
 careful choosing1 you will learn at    
last to make a right use of every event2
 you will be harassed no more by vain   
desire or unreasoning aversion1 but will
 become ,god's coadjutor and be always  
of his mind4 ,so1 when external things  
have ceased to trouble your spirit1 you 
will no longer be a competitor for      
vanities2 but1 enfranchised from all    
solicitude1 you will have discarded envy
 and conceit and intolerance1 which are 
the ill fruits of that vain rivalry4    

,you will neither cringe before power   
nor covet great place1 for alike from   
inordinate affection and from the fear  
of pain or death you will be free4      
,disenamoured of mundane things1 you    
will live simply and unperturbed1 in    
kindness and cheerfulness and in        
gratitude to ,providence4 ,life will be 
to you as a feast or solemnity1 and when
 it comes to a close1 you will rise up  
saying1 ',i have been well and nobly    
entertained1 it is fit that ,i give     
place to another guest4'  ,the strength 
and mastery thus promised raised my     
dejected spirits1 as the words of a new 
and sanguine physician may hearten one  
who had long lain stricken yet now dares
 to hope for the day of recovery4 ,this 
was a law which did not denounce the    
world as illusion or enjoin a cloistral 
seclusion upon the mind1 but rather     
proposed each and every appearance as a 
touchstone on which the quality of      
personality should be unceasingly tried4
 ,by the constant application of a high 

standard to life1 it seemed to implant  
an incorrupt seed of manliness1 and to  
create in its disciples that saner mood 
which holds in equal aversion a         
,heliogabalus and a ,simeon ,stylites4  
,so persuaded1 ,i could join with the   
fervour of a neophyte in the ,stoic's   
profession3 ,good and evil are in choice
 alone1 and there is no cause of        
sorrowing save in my own errant and     
wilful desires4 ,when these shall have  
been overcome1 ,i shall possess my soul 
in tranquillity1 vexing myself in nowise
 if1 in the world's illusive good1 all  
men have the advantage over me4 ,for all
 outward things ,i will bear with equal 
mind1 even chains or insults or great   
pain1 ashamed of this only1 if reason   
shall not wholly free me from the       
servitude of care4 ,let others boast of 
material goods2 mine is the privilege of
 not needing these or stooping to their 
control4 ,i will have but a temperate   
desire of things open to choice1 as they
 are good and present1 and the tempter  

shall find no hold for his hands by     
which to draw me astray4 ,i will be     
content with any sojourn or any company1
 for there is none1 howsoever perilous1 
which may not prove and strengthen the  
defences of my soul4 ,for ,i have built 
an impregnable citadel whence1 if only  
,i am true to myself1 ,i can repel      
assaults from the four quarters of      
heaven4 ,who shall console one lifted   
above the range of grief1 whom neither  
privation nor insolence can annoy8 for  
he has peace as an inalienable          
possession1 and by no earthly tyranny   
shall be perturbed4 ,bearing serenely   
all natural impediments to action1      
trespassing beyond no eternal landmark1 
by no foolishness provoked1 he shall    
become a spectator and interpreter of   
,god's works2 he shall ripen to the     
harvest in the sunshine and wait        
tranquilly for the sickle1 knowing that 
corn is only sown that it may be reaped1
 and man only born to die4  ,the mere   
repetition of these words1 so instinct  

with the spirit of old ,roman fortitude1
 roused me to a more immediate          
resolution than any other form of       
solace4 ,there are times when a         
splendour of exaggeration is the best   
foil to truth4 ,the ,roman's pride is   
the best corrective to the earthward    
bias of the diffident2 by its excess of 
an opposite defect it drives us soonest 
into the mean of a simple and manly     
confidence4 ,it is better for us first  
to repeat1 ,dare to look up to ,god and 
say3 ,make use of me for the future as  
,thou wilt1 ,i am of the same mind1 ,i  
am equal with ,thee4444 ,lead me whither
 ,thou wilt1 than to dwell upon such    
words as these3 ,it is altogether       
necessary that thou have a true contempt
 for thyself if thou desire to prevail  
against flesh and blood--or these3 ,if  
,i abase myself 444 and grind myself to 
the dust which ,i am1 ,thy grace will be
 favourable to me1 and ,thy light near  
unto my head4444 ,by seeking ,thee alone
 and purely loving ,thee ,i have found  

both myself and ,thee1 and by that love 
have more deeply reduced myself to      
nothing4  ,this supreme abnegation may  
leave the saint unharmed1 but it is ill 
fitted for those who droop already with 
the malady of dejection4 ,the divine    
wisdom which knows the secrets of all   
hearts and their necessities infinitely 
various1 shall exact obedience according
 to no adamantine law3 it loves not the 
jots and tittles of formalism1 nor the  
pretensions of those who would cast all 
things in one mould4 ,from those made   
perfect1 from the saints whose links    
with earth are almost severed1 whose    
sight begins to pierce gross matter     
through1 it may accept prostration and  
endless contrite tears1 knowing that to 
these1 upon the very verge of           
illumination1 the forms of slavery have 
lost their vileness4 ,but to those who  
are still of earth and can but conceive 
,god's fatherhood according to earthly  
similitudes1 it will not ordain a prone 
obeisance4 ,such it will require to     

stand erect even in contrition1 in that 
posture which is the privilege of sons4 
,we who are unperfected affront ,god    
supposing him pleased with the          
prostration of his children4 ,it is the 
ignorance of a feudal age that ascribes 
to him a ,byzantine love of adulation2  
but that age is no more1 and he         
disserves the divine majesty who imputes
 to it a liking for the esprit          
d'antichambre4  ,i did not need to dwell
 upon my weakness and misery but rather 
upon the grandeur of humanity1 whose    
kinship and collaboration ,god himself  
does not reject4 ,the ,stoic phase was a
 useful stage on the road of            
convalescence1 and the majestic words of
 ,epictetus more helpful to a manlier   
bearing than the confessions of the     
saintliest souls4 ,if1 as is not to be  
doubted1 there are others who seek an   
issue from the same dark region where ,i
 wandered1 ,i do not fear to point them 
to the ,stoic way1 which like a narrow  
gorge cold with perpetual shadow is yet 

their shortest path upward to the high  
slopes lit with sunlight4 ,let them     
enter it without fear and endure its    
shadows a while1 for by other ways they 
will fetch a longer compass and come    
later to their release4  ,but when some 
interval had passed ,i became aware that
 this cold ideal was not the end1 and   
that out of the gall of austerity       
sweetness should yet come forth4 ,wise  
men have said that all great systems of 
ethics meet upon a higher plane1 as the 
branches of forest trees rustle together
 in the breeze2 for though in the dark  
earth their roots creep apart1 their    
summits are joined in the freedom of    
clear air4 ,as ,i now struck inland from
 the iron shores of shipwreck1 my heart 
warmed to a brighter and softer         
landscape1 and with ,landor ,i began to 
wish that ,i might walk with ,epicurus  
on the right hand and ,epictetus on the 
left4 ,with a later thinker ,i reflected
 that if the ,stoic knew more of the    
faith and hope of ,christianity1 the    

,epicurean came nearer to its charity4  
,for it is true that ,stoicism commands 
admiration rather than love4 ,it was    
indeed too harsh a saying that the      
ruggedness of the ,stoic is only a silly
 affectation of being a god1 to wind    
himself up by pulleys to an             
insensibility of suffering3 that is the 
judgment of the bluff partisan1 so      
shocked by the adversary's opinions that
 he feels absolved from any effort to   
understand them4 ,but even those who in 
extremity have been roused to new valour
 by the precepts as by a ,tyrtaean ode1 
for all the gratitude which they owe1   
will not impute to their deliverers an  
inhuman perfection4 ,the ,stoic does in 
truth wear a semblance of academic      
conceit1 as though related to ,god not  
as a child to its father1 but as a      
junior to a senior colleague4 ,and with 
all its sufficiency1 his philosophy     
seems too ,fabian in its counsels2 it is
 always withdrawing1 passing by on the  
other side1 avoiding battle--so that as 

a preparation for the uttermost ordeal  
it will often prove inferior to the     
reckless pugnacity of a narrow zealot4  
,then1 too1 it acts like a frost not    
merely upon personal1 but upon national 
ambition1 and so keeps the wellspring   
from the root4 ,its assumption of a     
superhuman fortitude accords but ill    
with scientific truth1 for if with one  
bound every man may become as ,god1 he  
will despise that infinitely slow upward
 progression which is the only real     
advance4 ,but1 above all1 it lives      
estranged from tenderness1 in which     
alone at certain hours of torment the   
distracted mind finds ,god's face       
reflected4 ,it preaches renunciation of 
all vain aversions and desires2 but it  
repels sweet impulses that are not vain4
 ,by exalting apathy in regard to       
personal suffering1 it becomes          
insensible to others' pain also4 ,in the
 conviction that appeals for sympathy   
are avowals of unworthiness1 it will    
have no part in the love of comrades1   

and it never discovered the truth that  
the strength and the compassion of the  
,divine are one perfection4  ,there is a
 favourite mediaeval legend depicted in 
one of the windows of the cathedral at  
,bourges1 which exposes in a            
characteristic fashion this weakness of 
the ,stoic's creed4 ,the ,evangelist ,st
 ,john1 when at ,ephesus1 remarked in   
the forum the philosopher ,cratinus     
giving a lesson of abnegation to certain
 rich young men4 ,at the teacher's      
bidding the youths had converted all    
their wealth into precious stones1 and  
these they were now bidden crush to dust
 with a heavy hammer in the presence of 
the assembled people1 that so they might
 make public profession of their        
contempt for riches4 ,but ,st ,john was 
angered at so wasteful a renunciation4  
,it is written1 he said1 that whoso     
would be perfect should not destroy his 
possessions1 but sell them1 and give the
 proceeds to the poor4 ,if your master  
is the true ,god1 replied ,cratinus     

scornfully1 restore these gems again to 
their original form1 and then they shall
 be bestowed according to your desire4  
,st ,john prayed1 and the precious      
stones lay there once more perfect in   
all their brilliance and splendour4 ,the
 moral of the old tale is clear--that   
all virtue without charity is nothing   
worth2 and that of virtue without       
charity1 the ,stoic's cold renunciation 
is the chief type and ensample4  ,the   
insight into this higher truth did not  
come by inspiration1 but was gradually  
imparted during long summer days1 when  
,i wandered from dawn to dark among the 
fields and woods4 ,hoping at first no   
more than to tire the mind with the body
 and so win a whole repose1 ,i became by
 degrees receptive of a new learning    
from nature1 which created new          
sympathies and kindled fresh ambitions4 
,naturally ,i again read ,wordsworth1   
and now for the first time since        
childhood ,i knew what joys intimacy    
brings4 ,i was one of a brotherhood1 and

 wherever ,i went was sure of a friendly
 salutation4 ,things that grew in       
silence became my friends2 ,i was with  
them at all hours1 in light and shadow1 
in warmth and cold1 watching their      
gracious and responsive existences1     
which reject no good gift1 but radiantly
 grow towards the light while it        
endures4 ,insensibly the spirit of this 
gentle expansive life was infused within
 me1 until the heart which ,i had deemed
 useless and outworn1 began to open like
 a flower scathed by frost1 at the full 
coming of spring4 ,the plants and trees 
were human to me1 the brooks spoke with 
articulate voice2 by that ancient       
witchery of animism1 old as the         
relationship of man and nature1 ,i was  
put to school again3 until at last1     
absorbed in the vicissitudes of small   
things and surrendering reason to a host
 of pathetic fallacies1 ,i was taught   
the great secret that life may not be   
centred in itself1 but in the going out 
of the heart is wisdom4 ,and as among   

human friends there are some to whom a  
man is bound by deeper and tenderer     
links than to the rest1 so it is with   
these other friends which have no       
language1 but only the wild-wood power  
of growing about the heart4 ,among their
 gracious company each man will discover
 his own affinity1 and having found it  
will look on the rest of nature with    
brighter eyes4 ,some learn the great    
lessons from mountains1 lakes1 and      
sounding cataracts2 others from broad   
rivers peacefully flowing to the sea4   
,to me there spoke no such romantic     
voices4 ,my wanderings led me through a 
country of simple rural charm1 and the  
friends that became dearest to me were  
just our ,english elms4  ,who but the   
solitary1 artists alone excepted1       
understand the full charm of elms in an 
,english landscape8 ,to us there is an  
especial appeal in their loneliness1 as 
they range apart along the hedgerows1   
embayed in blue air and sunlight which  
do but play upon the fringe of your     

huddling forest4 ,see them on a breezy  
,august morning across a tawny          
corn-field1 printing their dark feathery
 contours on a blue sky and holding the 
shadows to their bosoms2 or on a ,june  
evening get them between you and the    
setting sun1 and mark the droop and     
poise of the upper foliage fretted black
 upon a ground of red fire4 ,here are no
 cones or hemispheres1 or shapeless     
bulks of green1 but living beings of    
articulated form1 clothed in verdure as 
with the fine-wrought drapery that      
enhances rather than conceals the beauty
 of the statue4  ,or at a still later   
hour1 over against the harvest moon1 see
 them rise congruous with the gentle    
night1 casting round them not palls of  
ominous gloom1 but clear translucent    
shadows sifted through traceries of     
leafage which do but veil the light4    
,and what variety of form and structure 
sunders them from other trees1 what     
irregular persuasive grace4 ,some are   
tall and straight1 springing like       

fountains arrested in the moment when   
they turn to fall2 others bend oblique  
without one perpendicular line1 every   
branch by some subtle instinct evading  
the hard angles of earth-measurement as 
unmeet for that which frames the sky2   
others again spread to all the quarters 
of heaven their vast umbrageous arms4   
,no trees are so companionable as the   
elms to the red-roofed homestead which  
nestles at their feet and is glad for   
them4 ,seen from a distance1 how        
delightful is this association1 how     
delicate the contrast of tile and leaf  
and timbered barn1 each lending some    
complement to the other's fairest       
imperfection4 ,perhaps there will be a  
whole line of distinct trees1 and then  
you will see as it were a cliff-side of 
verdure in which1 beneath the billowy   
curves of lit foliage1 there open       
caverns and cool deeps of shadow fit for
 a ,dryad's rest4  ,to know the elm-tree
 you must not come too near1 for it too 
is wild and does not reveal its nature  

lightly2 you may be cooler in the shadow
 of the beech or stand drier beneath the
 red-stemmed leaves of the sycamore4    
,yet it suffers the clinging ivy2 it was
 beloved of poets in old days1 and      
painters love it still4 ,it has not the 
walnut's vivid green nor the rare flush 
that lights up the pine-stem4 ,its      
leaves are rough and of no brilliance2  
its bark is rugged also4 ,but in life   
the familiar guardian of home meadows1  
it has stood by our fathers' landmarks  
from generation to generation1 and when 
fallen and hewn and stacked it sheds a  
fragrance which1 wherever perceived in  
after years1 brings back memories of    
wanderings in deep lanes and of the     
great dim barns where we played in      
childhood4 ,in the dull winter days when
 only yews and cypresses wear their     
leaves1 ,i sometimes wander to a place  
whose walls are hung with the works of  
many a seer and lover of elms2 there    
seated before a few small frames ,i give
 them thanks for having read the dear   

trees truly1 and glorified a close and  
barren gallery with all the breezes and 
colours of the fields3 ,i am beyond all 
noise and murkiness1 walking in the     
peace and spaciousness of unsullied air4
  ,to a mind now happily reverted to the
 primitive confidence in souls          
everywhere indwelling and creating      
sympathies between all things1 the bonds
 of kinship between man and nature were 
drawn ever closer1 and it seemed a      
wholly natural belief that the changes  
of the visible universe1 affecting      
things which lived an almost personal   
existence1 should be instinct with the  
deeper meaning of events in the drama of
 human existence4  ,like the every-day  
life of men with its imperceptible      
attritions was the insensible growth and
 decay of things2 as the tumult of his  
emotions were the storms and            
catastrophes that convulse the face of  
nature4 ,the movement never ceased2 the 
transforming power was never wearied2   
the spectator had but to give rapt      

attention1 to be carried beyond his poor
 solicitudes to a participation in      
elemental processes of change in which  
the fates of humanity were mysteriously 
involved4 ,the thought of this          
indissoluble union kept alive the sense 
of brotherhood within me1 of            
responsibility in life1 of interest in  
all that happens2 and whether it was the
 daily contraction of a pond in drought1
 or a battle of ants by the wayside1 or 
the first tinge of autumn upon the      
woods1 all was ennobled by symbolic     
relationships to man's experience1 which
 in the unceasing flow of their         
perception were lustral to a solitary   
heart1 without them choked and stagnant4
  ,there was a certain heath-clad ridge 
which like a watch-tower set above a    
city never failed to bring before the   
ranging eye some vision pregnant of     
those emotions by which the sense of    
humanity is quickened to a deeper       
consciousness of itself4 ,the witchery  
of space was there always1 and seemed to

 draw from the soul the clinging mists  
of her indifference4 ,it was there that 
,i saw nature in all her moods1 and felt
 that to each my own moods responded2   
there that despondency1 imagining her   
monotony of woe1 was confuted by the    
saving changefulness of created things4 
,i remember one day1 when a summer storm
 was spending its fury1 ,i stood upon   
this ridge and looked across the low    
lands that stretched away beneath me4   
,they lay with all their boundaries     
confused by a pall of purple gloom1 then
 darkly transparent1 and dissolving     
before the returning sun1 whose         
penetrative influence was felt rather   
than actually perceived4 ,as ,i gazed1  
high in the veil of cloud there began   
faintly to gleam a spot of palest gold1 
so high that it seemed to belong to the 
sky and to have no part in an earthly   
landscape4 ,gradually it expanded1 grew 
more vivid1 and assumed form1 other     
forms and tints emerged beside it1 until
 at last it was revealed as a ripe      

corn-field on the high slopes across the
 valley1 and before many moments had    
passed1 a long line of downs stood out  
in the pure air with a sculptural       
clearness1 as if during the storm all   
had been uprooted and moved a whole     
league towards the spot where ,i stood4 
,while the rainbow spanned the plain1   
and the thunder still rolled in the     
distance1 all the opposite heaven       
cleared almost to the furthest horizon2 
but there a remoter range yet lay       
half-covered by a billowy mass of       
clouds1 like the hull of a dismasted    
ship in the folds of her fallen sails4  
,at last even this trace of the battle  
was gone2 the sun shone unopposed2 the  
wet lands and clear sky were lit with an
 intenser brightness for their transient
 eclipse4  ,then the humanity of all    
these things was borne in upon my mind1 
and ,i was affected by these            
vicissitudes shadowing forth the destiny
 of man1 and reminding him in their     
beautiful and majestic procession that  

nature endures no perpetual gloom4 ,the 
sudden ruin of a bright day in deluge   
and darkness and sonorous thunder1 the  
timid reappearance of faint light1 the  
natural forms strangely emerging from   
the perplexed wrack infesting the       
heaven1 and at last seen as never before
 through leagues of pellucid air2 the   
thunder's silence1 the final and supreme
 triumph of light2--these swift yet     
utter revolutions of the visible world1 
by very grace of mutability1 were rich  
with instant consolations for the soul's
 misgiving4 ,they served to remind me   
that the fears1 the spiritual conflicts1
 the darkness that seems eternal1 are   
mere incidents of a summer noon and     
leave behind them a purer and serener   
day4 ,through all this close intercourse
 with nature my mind was being prepared 
for a healthier relation to my          
fellow-man1 and my heart saved from the 
petrification of melancholy self-regard4
 ,the ever-growing delight in these     
inanimate things1 the constant discovery

 of new charms as knowledge widened with
 experience1 united to prevent          
stagnation and despair2 they kept heart 
and mind alert for the perception of new
 glories2 and it is from a clear sense  
of their salutary power that ,i dwell   
upon them in this record of a           
self-tormented life4 ,how should he find
 life colourless whose eyes are often   
fixed upon the sky1 who sees grey zones 
of cloud flush crimson before the       
sunrise1 and at evening the wide air    
richly glowing1 moted as with the bloom 
of plums and the golden pollen of all   
flowers8  ,at the end of that summer ,i 
returned to the occupations of life1    
appeased and almost happy in this       
inheritance of new sympathies4 ,and     
before long ,i found that these were    
themselves but precursors of that which 
was to come1 and that like the          
paranymphs who escort the bride1 they   
did but apparel the heart for a deeper  
and more abiding joy4 ,they were busied 
about me in tranquil hours1 and speaking

 not1 but seeming to wait in gladness   
for another1 they made me serenely      
expectant also4 ,they destroyed all     
sadness of retrospect2 they led me      
always forward2 with faces transparent  
with the light of an inward happiness   
they seemed to promise a vision at each 
near bending of the way4 ,from glad     
looks and gestures assuring imminent    
joy1 ,i too was charmed into a like     
faith1 and went on blithely in the      
confidence of a coming illumination4    
,nor was that hope vain1 for at length  
the mystery was made plain1 and one day 
they brought me exulting into the       
presence of the ,ideal ,love4  ,there is
 a place in every heart which must be   
filled by adoration1 or else the whole  
will grow hard and wither like a garden 
whose central fountain is grown dry4    
,and though the affection of mortal man 
or woman may abandon it1 there remains  
yet this other love which by pure and   
strenuous invocation may be drawn to it1
 and dwell in it1 to the ennoblement of 

life2 so great is the care of providence
 for mortal need4 ,love is our need1 and
 it is given1 if we despair not of it1  
even to such as have rarely felt the    
glow of earthly passion4 ,for love is of
 many kinds2 yet the palest and most    
subtle of its forms are made real to    
those who believe1 and may become the   
guiding influences of their lives4 ,such
 are the visions of the ideal love to   
which those glad natural sympathies now 
led me1 leaving me alone awhile that ,i 
might worship the orient light4 ,and    
when ,i came out from that presence ,i  
rejoiced indeed1 for the path was clear 
for my return1 and life was now glad    
with promise like an orchard burgeoning 
with white blossoms4 ,old memories      
crowded back on me of hours beneath the 
cedars with the ,phaedrus and the ,vita 
,nuova1 hours made happy with           
intellectual and austere delights4 ,but 
now the joy was other than intellectual1
 though significant tenfold1 for then in
 untried youth ,i had wondered at the   

beauty of an imaginary world2 now with  
eyes that had looked on desolation ,i   
perceived that these visions were true4 
,for had they been no more than airy    
fancies1 they surely had not endured    
throughout these long ages in our laden 
and mortal air4  ,it was not merely the 
beauty of a literary setting which had  
preserved them3 the craftsman's skill   
might indeed have enhanced their natural
 splendour1 but it could not have alone 
inspired them with this perennial life4 
,the gem with fire in its heart outlives
 the delicate setting2 though it may be 
maltreated and buried for centuries by  
the wayside1 it will come to light when 
the gold that framed it is long battered
 or lost1 and will be desired by new    
generations for its inherent and        
unalterable beauty4  ,not ,plato's or   
,dante's creative power1 but truth      
surviving all incarnations of genius1   
has kept this celestial gem aglow3 they 
have but celebrated that which was never
 mortal1 and guided wandering eyes to   

heaven's most beautiful star4 ,this     
intangible and unincarnate vision exacts
 more from its votaries than the love   
which walks the earth3 holding the lover
 ever in the strain of apprehension1 it 
inures him to unwearying worship1 and   
itself moving in regions incorruptible1 
never loses the glory of its first hour4
 ,the years may pass1 but one face1 like
 a hallowed thing1 abides continually2  
years may fret and corrode other ideals1
 but to this they add beauties of ever  
fresh significance4 ,the auroral glow is
 always round it1 brightening the world1
 until it becomes an emblem of          
illumination and the symbol of eternal  
truths4 ,this visionary presence wakes  
aspiration to new effort and touches the
 intellect with passion2 beleaguered    
thought sallies out with new strength1  
and the frontiers of darkness recede    
before it4 ,from this comes the         
quickening of the heart without which   
hope wanes and the mind is barren3 the  
deep pure joy of contemplation awakens  

all that is best in the soul1 which goes
 towards it on tense wings of desire4   
,and as with time it draws further from 
the earth1 and1 following1 the soul     
essays ever higher flights1 it is often 
poised at a great height as in a trance 
of motion1 whence it looks back upon the
 world it has left1 and round it upon   
other worlds4 ,then1 its love-range     
being wondrously expanded1 it sees      
beyond that visionary countenance1 which
 dissolves and forms again like a       
delicate wreath of mist2 and clear      
starlight falls upon it from every side1
 so that all shadow is destroyed4 ,and  
when it returns to earth again1 and is  
forced to contemplate meaner things1 it 
is now aware that the very soil is      
compacted of dust of stars1 and that he 
who looks listlessly upon creation is   
unworthy of the human name4 ,and so     
continually flying forth and returning1 
it weaves endless bonds between the     
infinitesimal and the infinite1         
forgetting how to despise1 which is the 

heavenly science4  ,all this ardour is  
awakened and sustained by love1 which   
began in sense and is now transformed4  
,through each succeeding change it is   
known for the same divine power which   
has so attuned the body that it vibrates
 no more to desire alone1 but is now    
become resonant beneath a faint and     
spiritual breath4  ,it is an old story  
that love is sightless1 but that is the 
love which romps among the roses and is 
blinded by their thorns4 ,there is      
another and a better tradition that     
love's eyes pierce heaven1 and this is a
 great truth2 for infinity is cold and  
vaporous until man projects upon it his 
mortal ideal1 his conception of an      
earthly love transfigured4 ,when this   
beloved guide appears throned above him 
as in the clouds1 he dares to lift his  
eyes1 and there he reads through its    
light the divine purports of his        
existence4 ,is it a small thing to      
stand1 though but for a moment1         
searching infinity undismayed8 ,this is 

the celestial ocean to whose shore he is
 come2 and now drawing towards and      
contemplating the vast sea of beauty1 he
 will create many fair and noble        
thoughts and notions in boundless love  
of wisdom1 until on that shore he grows 
and waxes strong1 and at last the vision
 is revealed to him of a single science1
 which is the science of beauty         
everywhere 444 beauty absolute1         
separate1 simple1 everlasting1 which    
without diminution1 without increase1 or
 any change1 is imparted to the ever    
growing and perishing beauties of all   
other things4  ,to some the great       
perception comes but late1 rising from  
the ashes of love's common furnace4 ,but
 they whose hearts have never been      
consumed in these roaring flames may    
find it earlier2 and purged from all    
taints of jealousy and covetousness1 may
 pass straightway into the bliss of a   
higher union4 ,this is that supreme     
affiance and espousal of the soul       
wherein they may be released into a     

larger air1 undelayed by the earthward  
longings and gradual initiations of     
seemingly happier men4 ,thus its        
servants do not decline into slothful   
service1 but are strenuous always2      
raised above the acquiescence of use1   
they never know the cloying of fruition 
or suffer the barbarian conquest of     
indifference4 ,their soul is unaffected 
by material circumstance or misfortune1 
and illuminates their lives as often as 
in the silent hour of meditation they   
concentrate their thoughts upon its     
grace4 ,the cup of earthly love1 even   
the noblest1 is often dipped in         
,pyriphlegethon1 and the draught it     
offers scathes the palate until its     
finest sensibility is for ever dulled4  
,those who have quaffed this liquid fire
 can no longer understand his mood who  
leaves the roses and the wine to toil   
through deserts in search of limpid     
water4 ,they think him madly ungrateful 
for ,god's good gifts1 a fool abandoning
 joy proved and present for a shadow far

 and incomprehensible4 ,but they who    
have not denied themselves are no longer
 fit judges of him who has renounced4   
,they cannot know that by this          
renunciation the senses are thrice      
refined1 and receive as a vital         
influence the stellar beam which falls  
chill and ineffectual upon a grosser    
frame4 ,they cannot believe that this   
love from the infinite distance wields  
as mighty a force over renunciant lives 
as the near flame of passion over their 
own4 ,but1 for all their denial1 it     
lives and puissantly reigns4 ,it reigns 
in very truth predominant1 this ideal   
love to which space exists not and      
propinquity is nothing2 and it will have
 none for its subjects but those who by 
bereavement or aspiration or intense    
purity are inly prepared for its        
dominion4  ,happy therefore are the shy 
if in the midst of their tribulation    
they are guided to the gateway of so    
bright a kingdom4 ,it may well be that  
we must first be led thither by some    

dear-remembered and virgin form once    
almost ours through earthly love1 but   
now joined to us only by an imperishable
 and mystic union4 ,our sight may at    
first need the embodied beauty to give  
it the finer powers by which the        
revelation of the ideal grows familiar  
to us1 but is at last attainable without
 mortal intervention by an immediate    
flight of the soul4 ,until that late day
 of enlightenment we must still be set  
upon the celestial path by a touch of   
human tenderness2 a pure yet sensuous   
yearning must be ours when we are first 
girded to the ascent4 ,if there are     
beings which attain the fulness of the  
ideal love without the first inspiration
 of a fair earthly form ,i know nothing 
in creation to which they may be        
likened1 nor had ,i ever part in so rare
 an enfranchisement4 ,the vision that   
now entrances my soul first arose from a
 living1 breathing form radiant with    
earthly brightness and instinct with    
every charm which brings men fawning to 

the feet of women4 ,the sensuous frenzy 
which lovers sing was also mine1 the    
tremor of the heart1 the vibration of   
the very life2 the deep seventh wave of 
passion rioted through me also4 ,but    
from the first amazement of the shaken  
being it was not given me to pass       
through satisfaction into tranquillity2 
,i was held long in a whirl of trouble2 
in the anguish of denial ,i learned     
initiation into the mystery which is    
eternal and supreme4  ,it is good for   
some of earth's children that passion   
should be stayed before it makes ashes  
of the fancy2 for if it does but touch  
for a moment only to be withdrawn for   
ever1 it does not destroy1 but by its   
meteoric passage kindles the imagination
 with the glow of an incorruptible      
flame4 ,it is with them long enough to  
brand upon memory the image which1      
though never renewed before their bodily
 eyes1 by its very severance from       
perception puts on an immortality of    
virginal grace4 ,love is understanding1 

said the poet of ,heaven and ,hell1 and 
love ennobled through renunciant years  
shall at the last encompass the world4  
,the sensuous glow that first quickened 
the heart of youth is transmuted into a 
purer fire akin to that which moves the 
spheres4  ,to know this truth is their  
compensation who are swiftly withdrawn  
from the warm radiance of earthly love4 
,they are stricken1 but before passion  
blinds them are rapt into a high        
solitude1 whence1 if they truly love1 an
 infinite prospect is unrolled before   
them4 ,they know desire2 but as their   
passion was hopeless in this world1     
their steps were mercifully set upon a  
new path1 whereby the bodily semblance  
of the beloved became the symbol of     
spiritual comeliness1 alluring the      
beholder into the peace of a serene and 
unworldly mood4 ,a thin and rarefied    
ideal1 you say1 a mirage which no       
wayfarer can approach3 experience       
rejects these subtleties1 and to these  
creations of a dream human affection was

 never given4 ,true1 to hearts          
established and content in happy unions1
 to minds preoccupied with the near     
cares and pleasures of a home1 our      
distant visions may appear frail        
structures wrought in mist by homeless  
fancy4 ,but for the exiled heart they   
are not such1 but verities of abiding   
inspiration4 ,for the ideal love did not
 die with ,plato1 but came again in     
mediaeval ,italy1 and who shall say that
 even our material age has banished it  
from the earth8  ,no indeed it is not   
dead1 the ideal love1 but indwells1 a   
redeeming power1 wherever there are     
desolate hearts and minds to be updrawn 
and united by its ministry2 a power so  
lustral in its nature1 that no abject   
and despairing thought creeps into its  
presence but is purified and exalted by 
its regard4 ,this love brings hope and  
cheerful constancy2 with a shining      
falchion it affrights into their natal  
darkness the monstrous forms of despair1
 and lends to all work a secret charm of

 chivalry4 ,it sustains that high       
anticipatory mood to which life is but a
 preparation1 and the bees buzzing round
 the honey-flowers seem poor things     
toiling for an inessential gain4        
,because it is mystic and transcendental
 it is the predestined guide of all whom
 fate holds removed from earthly love4  
,this is the old device of the world's  
failures1 you say1 to trick themselves  
out in ,plato's mantle or the           
schoolman's cowl1 and conceal their     
spite beneath the pretensions of the    
mystic4 ,but ,i answer that the causes  
which moved the ,greek and the          
,florentine are still at work among     
mankind to-day2 they have never ceased1 
however much obscured by the glare of   
triumphant luxury or the stress of      
miserable toil4 ,often when disillusion 
has laid bare a soul1 this love which   
did but slumber awakes to contest with  
envy or despair the possession of a     
wounded heart4 ,i aver that any exile   
from the happier earth whose heart is   

pure1 if he invokes this love with      
ardent faith1 may unbar his door and    
feel that it has passed his threshold4  
,let us never be persuaded that the     
ideal world is far from this earth of   
ours1 or that the way to it may not be  
daily traversed by him who has submitted
 to the heavenly guide4 ,not even the   
close entanglement of common cares can  
avail to keep such an one from his love2
 but as ,bishop ,berkeley is said to    
have been able to pass in a moment from 
the consideration of trifling things to 
the throne of thrones and the seats of  
the ,trinity1 so this lover shall       
overpass with easy and habitual flight  
the barriers that hold most men         
life-long prisoners4  ,for to the       
,spirit that is chastened and endures   
there is given a power of flight and    
poise1 by which1 if it abandon itself to
 the celestial wind1 it may instantly   
remove from the deeper planes of life1  
as a bird by the mere slanting of its   
wings is carried in proud quiescence    

into an upper region of the air4 ,he    
shall know instant release from the     
leaguer of disillusion and vain         
solicitudes2 in the light of one        
beautiful and compassionate countenance 
the unquiet memories of failure shall   
give up their exceeding bitterness4     
,and though the style and instinct of   
modern life are hostile to such love1   
though in prosperity it is ignored and  
in adversity often overborne by a vain  
uproar of lamentation1 yet even in a    
self-indulgent and furious world it     
still draws many to the severe          
exaltation of its service4 ,we cannot   
approach the heights where a ,plato and 
a ,dante walked with ease1 but far      
beneath upon the lower slopes we can    
draw a breath of new life as we fix our 
weaker eyes upon the glory which they   
saw so near4 ,although the men who have 
there ascended are a supreme company1 we
 may yet presume to follow2 for let it  
never be said that the gods have        
reserved for surpassing genius the      

consolation of which lesser men have so 
much deeper need4 ,but he who would     
reach a serener air must press forward  
strenuously2 for as a mountain may have 
one bare and northern slope1 and another
 sunlit and clothed with verdure1 and   
yet there may be a path on each side to 
the summit1 so it is with the ascent to 
this felicity4 ,one lingers amid        
pleasant groves and laughing waters2    
another1 undistracted by the beauty of  
any lower zone1 but fixing his eyes upon
 the far summit1 crosses the chill rocky
 slopes1 never feeling the warmth of the
 sun and only seeing his brightness     
reflected from the highest peak4 ,though
 the ways of the two travellers lie far 
apart until the end1 their endurance may
 be crowned with the same reward2 but he
 who knew no dalliance and plucked no   
fruit has from the beginning seen the   
goal clearly1 and lived steadfastly in  
its distant promise4 ,and do you tell me
 that this is not love or joy1 you who  
saunter in the verdant southern valleys 

breathing a present happiness with the  
perfume of a thousand flowers8 ,your way
 may lead you upward after long         
vicissitudes1 but endurance will more   
swiftly fail you for the last most      
arduous ascent4 ,very love is of the    
heights1 and he whose thoughts have long
 been thither exalted will breathe with 
least pain the attenuate upper air4  ,to
 this pilgrimage the diffident are      
foreordained2 it is their happiest hour 
when they take staff and scrip and set  
out in earnest for the shrine built     
among the mountains4 ,the gardens of    
,armida are not for them1 nor the warm  
breezes fragrant of fruit and flowers2  
but the vision of a far peak flushed at 
sundawn draws them onward1 and strength 
and peace are increased upon them       
throughout the great ascent4 ,he is     
still too rich for pity to whom         
renunciation brings these high and      
enviable hours4  ,but the heavens are   
not opened every day1 and the adept of  
these mysteries must walk the dull round

 of common life like other men1 not     
warmed as they are by the glow of       
constant friendship1 yet cheered by     
intermittent flames of remembrance and  
of hope4 ,the real life of the diffident
 is cunningly hidden from those around  
them1 for whom1 indeed1 it is wont to   
have faint interest2 but before you who 
have often sought me out through fair   
and foul weather1 ,i may venture to undo
 the pack of small resources which      
brings variety and distraction into     
lonely days4  ,firstly1 ,i still dare to
 haunt the forecourts of philosophy4    
,into her inner courts ,i may not       
penetrate1 lacking the leisure which her
 whole service demands2 yet the         
loiterings which ,i may still enjoy are 
to me like voyages into a foreign       
country1 and give my mind the healthful 
enjoyment of change2 they are not long  
enough to bring that whole detachment   
from daily life which1 in my case1 might
 prove a perilous advantage4 ,all that  
,i need for common use is a simple rule 

based on a few fundamental thoughts to  
give me a course upon the wayward ocean1
 and though it be full of error as the  
,almagest1 yet it shall surpass the     
thumb-rules of ,philistia4 ,it must be a
 doctrine which allows imagination her  
right and durable career1 and therefore 
not be monist4 ,for materialism is too  
wildly imaginative at the start3 like a 
runner who at the outset overstrains his
 heart and thereafter runs no more1 the 
follower of this creed1 by his postulate
 of a blind impersonal ,law1 exhausts   
his power of speed and plods henceforth 
eyes downward over flattest plains of   
dulness4 ,that my mind may remain       
curious and alert in isolation1 ,i must 
conceive in the universal scheme a power
 that does not alone impel1 but also    
draws me forward4 ,for were it true that
 the sum of things blunders from change 
to change1 swept by blind force into    
uncharted voids1 ,i should abandon      
myself in despair to that hopeless      
course1 and drift indifferent to the    

direction or the end4  ,let me rather   
believe that if each several idea is    
compacted by my active intelligence out 
of some vast system of relations1 then  
only a supreme intelligence akin to     
man's can brace together the whole      
system or universal sum of things4 ,for 
this earth1 yes1 and all the complex of 
the spheres1 exist to me imperfectly as 
idea alone1 nor can ,i conceive them any
 complete existence apart from a kindred
 but omniscient mind4 ,each advance in  
human knowledge should then be an       
infinitesimal approach towards the      
supreme comprehension2 and the aspiring 
race of man is justified in that        
inchoation of long hope which is folly  
to the single life4  ,i would also      
believe that new relations between      
things may be detected not merely by the
 staid and ordered process of collating 
abstractions1 which is science1 but by  
swifter and more genial methods of      
intuition4      ,hurrah for positive    
science1     ,long live exact           

demonstration6  cried ,walt ,whitman1   
exulting over the filed fetters of      
mankind2 and let us all echo the cry1   
nor ever forget the razed ,bastilles of 
superstition4 ,but there glimmers a     
wealth of truth in the penumbra beyond  
our lanterns to which science will creep
 too slowly without the aid of          
imagination4 ,yet this truth may be     
seized by swift sallies into the        
darkness1 and assured to us as it were  
by some dim apperception of the soul1   
when the whole personality is made      
tense1 and subtly anticipates the cosmic
 argument4 ,life is too short to        
renounce this daring3 the sense of      
kinship with the ,all-,consciousness    
sanctions if not commands the right     
adventure4  ,it was this feeling which  
led ,william ,blake to exclaim in his   
impulsive way1 that to generalize is to 
be an idiot1 that direct perception is  
all1 and the slow process of the        
inductive reason a devil's machination4 
,this method of intuition is to the more

 sober method of science as the romantic
 to the classical spirit in literature1 
permitting to the individual mind a     
licence of noble vagrancy4 ,but it must 
be a law for the ordinary intelligence  
to exercise the two apart1 else it will 
fall into sick fancies of excitement1   
and by abuse of wild analogies lose the 
vital art of balance and sane           
comparison4 ,only the greatest minds1   
endowed as it were with some divine     
genius of extrication1 may dare to      
practise the two together4 ,so ,leonardo
 da ,vinci drove inference and intuition
 abreast without disaster1 and gathered 
from purple distances of thought their  
wildest and most splendid flowers4 ,to  
him1 as has been well said1 philosophy  
was something giving strange swiftness  
and double sight1 clairvoyant of occult 
gifts in common or uncommon things4 ,the
 doom of ,phaeton awaits those who now  
would follow that marvellous course2 but
 the poetic observation of resemblances 
in things remote1 which lent so rich a  

colour to the science of the            
,renaissance1 may yet be trained in all 
our minds2 and the philosophy which     
trusts in the slow suffusion of the     
worlds with intellectual light will     
bless and encourage its reasonable      
growth4  ,such a philosophy brings also 
a living sympathy with art4 ,for the    
artist ever sees a perfection of truth  
beyond his rendering1 yet always calling
 for expression2 there is something     
eternally missed by his highest effort1 
and he can never know complacency4 ,the 
philosophy which conceives the gradual  
growth of form through consciousness    
towards a perfection infinitely removed1
 yet in its remoteness drawing up our   
life as the moon sways the tides--this  
surely is the artist's wisdom4 ,idealism
 is like love1 apora porimos1 holding us
 as it were in touch with the           
intangible3 it will have us conceive the
 ,absolute without that helpless        
absorption in thought which changed     
,amiel's life from a fountain to a      

vapour3 it would keep us near the surf  
and confluence of things4 ,its function 
is not to give any mysterious           
transcendental knowledge1 but to serve  
culture by suggesting questions which   
help to detect the passion1 and         
strangeness and dramatic contrasts of   
life4 ,and not only to bring            
suggestions1 but repose1 by granting to 
eyes wearied with minute concerns the   
contrasts of vast times and spaces1 the 
majestic idea of the ,whole2 to change  
the focus and variously dispose the     
perspectives of familiar things4  ,an   
old watchmaker1 whose window overlooked 
a wide meadow1 used ever and again to   
lay down his instruments to gaze out    
upon the expanse of green1 pasturing    
upon it a wandering vague regard1 and   
absorbing from it an assuagement of his 
wearied senses which1 he said1 served   
him more effectually after these bright 
interludes4 ,the province of            
,metaphysics should be to us as to this 
wise workman his field2 not a place to  

dream our days away in1 but for         
occasional resort2 in which we may      
forget the infinitesimal in healing     
visions of broad space and colour4 ,i   
counsel every lonely man to satisfy what
 has been described as the common       
metaphysical instinct1 and according to 
his powers to become a metaphysician4   
,there is no discipline which so well   
consists with solitude1 none which so   
instantly enfranchises the mind from the
 tyranny of mean self-interest or vain  
and envious polemics4 ,men do not grow  
sour and quarrelsome about the          
,absolute3 everything that is polemical 
is inspired1 as ,michelet once said1 by 
some temporal and momentary interest4   
,the man who has climbed to the ,idalian
 spring comes down benevolent4 ,he does 
not grudge this toiling ant his grain1  
that snarling dog his bone1 but is      
content to live serene1 in the certainty
 that his soul has great provision1 and 
that though all human things are small1 
each is worth its while4 ,into his hand 

there is given a scale by which life is 
known in its fair proportions2 a        
tranquil joy1 disturbed neither by      
dirges nor ,epinician odes1 is poured   
into his heart and exalts him above     
distraction4 ,he respects himself as    
akin to that great ,self whose          
perfection shall one day be known2 he   
understands the passion for the ideal   
through which men die young2 he wonders 
at envy and in the happiness of         
enfranchisement would have all men free4
  ,the pages of this ,almagest are for  
the exceptional hour2 but daily1 as one 
bookish from the nursery1 ,i read much  
in many directions4 ,for if books are   
called the best friends of happy men1 to
 the sad they are saviours also4 ,and   
when ,i remember too clearly what ,i am1
 ,i turn perhaps most often to          
,lucretius4 ,for of all those who have  
taken up the pen to assuage the miseries
 of men1 it is he who sings most bravely
 of the great endurance4 ,this austere  
enthusiast1 whose soul was never fused  

in the fire of friendship2 who went     
apart1 as it were1 amid thunders upon   
the lonely heights2 who1 without any    
lover1 yet loved his kind so well that  
all the years of his maturity1 how short
 and splendid a period1 were poured     
forth in one song of human              
consolation1--this man for all the      
madness of his creed1 was yet aflame    
with a wisdom to be called divine4 ,that
 calm face1 lit with one desire--to     
drive the furies from the way and soothe
 the frightened children of men1 is ever
 among the nobler countenances which    
fancy summons about my bed4 ,over the   
anxious heart they flow1 those slow     
cadences1 so vibrant yet so             
magnificently passionless1 until the    
nerves of pain cease to throb1 and fear 
shrinks as a taint impossible to the    
patient of such a physician4 ,it is not 
his to intimidate or denounce1 to evoke 
visions of lurid hell1 to linger over   
dire vaticinations1 or apportion to each
 his grade of torment1 but with cool    

fingers to smooth the hair back from the
 forehead1 and in grave1 tender accents 
to say3 ,sleep now1 for it was a dream4 
,landor1 in a fine passage1 compared the
 merciful tolerance of the ,roman poet  
with the pitiless ire of ,dante1        
contrasting in respect of the quality of
 mercy these two poets1 one in their    
austere perfection1 but so different in 
their vision of death1 and judgment1 and
 ultimate reward4 ,the seer of lost     
worlds has written his own defence1 and 
was indeed but attacked to point the    
sharp antithesis2 but ,lucretius1 though
 he owes it to a literary feint1 is very
 finely praised4 ,and to me it seems    
that his compassionate mood increased   
upon him just because he was not emulous
 of the world's gifts or earnest for its
 pleasures1 but withdrew from the press1
 and lived out his few great years      
contemplating apart the vicissitudes of 
orbs and men4 ,he did not wait in       
ante-chambers or sit at wedding feasts2 
but severing all entangling and         

intricate threads of observance1        
followed the voice which called him to  
solitary places of illimitable prospect4
 ,it was not through disillusion or     
injustice1 or wounded pride1 that he    
walked aloof2 but loneliness was his    
birthright1 and from the hills and      
headlands to which solitude allured his 
steps he saw the dust of mad encounters 
rise to heaven1 and the rent sails of   
foundering galleys4 ,he saw1 and could  
not but be wrung with pity for man      
deafened to wise counsel by the noise of
 vanities1 and fiercely conspiring to   
precipitate his doom4 ,as he went by    
shore and upland1 there gathered in his 
mind those resonant hexameters of       
warning or consolation1 those similes   
from the life of husbandry and dumb     
things1 which1 set like diamonds in     
clay1 lend to the most arid arguments   
their own incomparable splendour1 or    
that homelier beauty which instantly    
pierces the defences of the heart4 ,not 
diffident as we1 but of a nature so     

infinitely absent and reserved that in  
the legend his wife must concoct a      
philter to remind him of his love1 he is
 of all the pagans the best companion   
for our angrier moods4 ,an archaic and  
elemental serenity is upon his language 
and thought1 rebuking our unprofitable  
petulance2 if emotion gains him he finds
 utterance in those tremendous periods  
where single words seem to gather out of
 the deep and to reverberate like       
thunder4 ,as the reverberation dies away
 and the clouds are pierced by the sun1 
the world is seen in new lights through 
an air clear as upon rain-swept         
mountains4  ,as my reading is incessant1
 so also is my writing4 ,for the        
happiness of man is in his fertility1   
and of barrenness comes the worst       
despair4 ,to be happy is to have        
issue--children1 or books written1 or   
things beautifully wrought1 or monuments
 of goodness to live after you1 if only 
in the memory of some tiny hamlet of the
 folded hills4 ,this is the law of life 

that ,diotima knew1 by which flower and 
tree1 animal and man1 fulfil the end of 
their creation2 and man in nothing more 
surely proves his lordship than by his  
many-handed hold upon posterity4 ,for   
the lower creation is procreant in one  
way1 but man in many2 who may have      
offspring not of body alone but of mind 
and heart1 and be so redeemed from the  
grim dismay of childlessness4 ,the      
greatest human happiness is to be       
fertile in every way1 a thing granted   
rarely in the world we know2 the next1  
perhaps1 is that of the parent who gives
 all of himself to his family1 not      
tilling any field beyond the charmed    
walls confining his desire4 ,the author 
sure of his fame1 the born artist1 the  
benefactor of his kind1 are also happy1 
seeing their offspring grow in years and
 in the power of making a brighter      
world4  ,but he is miserable who1       
aspiring to follow these1 feels his     
force wane within him while he remains  
yet fatherless2 or who has sons         

stillborn1 or weakly1 or dishonoured4 ,i
 question whether sheer degradation into
 evil brings more pain to man than such 
sense of sterility or frustrate         
parentage4 ,but it is no small part of  
human redemption that none need know the
 interminable misery4 ,a man may have   
neither sons nor genius1 but in the dark
 hour he can go out and give1 if it be  
only a penny or a kind word1 and on that
 foundation build a temple to receive   
his thanksgiving4 ,to give of yourself  
is good4 ,this is that grand agreement  
and oecumenical consent to which those  
words quod ab omnibus quod ubique in    
deed and truth may be applied4 ,for this
 reason meanness is of the deeps1 and   
avarice groans in the lowest zone of    
hell4 ,and if there are faces of blank  
and permanent despair upon your path1 be
 sure that these are not masks of whole 
men1 but of those who wilfully abstained
 from joy and have received the greater 
damnation4 ,my children are mostly      
writings1 poor weakly creatures dying   

inarticulate and unchristened1 tenderly 
remembered by myself only1 but at least 
no nuisance to the world4 ,i loved them 
at their birth1 ,i hold them in         
remembrance1 though they were ever of a 
hectic and uncertain beauty4  ,the      
comparison of children with branches of 
the olive is not the mere ornament of a 
,bible verse1 but the wisdom of one who 
knew both tree and child4 ,for as       
children are bright creatures of swiftly
 changing moods1 so are the olive leaves
 in the blue southern air4 ,i once read 
of an artist who essayed to paint a     
group of olives and a cypress growing   
before them4 ,against their silvery     
leaves its dark burnished form stood    
finely mysterious1 the contrasting grey 
lending it a depth of almost sable      
colour2 all was propitious for his work4
 ,then suddenly1 the air being to all   
seeming quite still1 the grey-green     
leaves began to shake and quiver1 until 
each olive tree was like a silver       
bonfire1 tremulous with a thousand waves

 of white flame flowing and following   
along the branches4 ,it was a revelation
 and swift effluence of life1 perplexing
 and full of charm4 ,the brush was laid 
down1 the moment of inspiration gone1   
before the capricious leaves ceased     
their quivering to be robed once more in
 grey1 casting on the ground that       
translucent shadow which tempers the    
sunlight only1 and does not spoil it of 
its gold4 ,in the end the canvas was    
covered1 but with a sketch far less true
 and beautiful than the painter's first 
happy vision4 ,even so of all our       
children few attain the perfection of   
our dreams4 ,while we look1 some        
influence comes upon them and they are  
changed1 some breeze1 born we know not  
where1 stirs them to their heart of joy 
while we stand perplexed2 innumerable   
laughter of leaves1 a rushing and a     
shivering in quick answer to a mere     
breath1 silence as swift when           
unperceived it dies away--these are     
their replies to our silent invocations4

 ,we cannot follow the swift course1 but
 are quickened with a glad              
rejuvenescence1 the true prize and      
guerdon of parentage4 ,they may grow old
 or die1 or bring us sorrow2 it is      
enough that once they so lived and      
stirred a pride within us4 ,let         
,hedonist and idealist dispute1 let one 
worship pleasure and another wait on the
 intangible joy1 but in the fathering   
and mothering and the bringing up of    
young children1 of the flesh1 the mind1 
or the spirit1 lies the natural         
happiness of men and women4 ,it is a joy
 which outlasts disillusions2 it rests  
surely upon achievement and deserts     
which lie ponderable in the archangel's 
scales4 ,for it is certain that he who  
creates as best he knows best serves    
,god1 the world and himself1 and what   
system of ,ethics has conceived a more  
perfect rule8  ,all young life is       
instinct with such a beauty and         
trustfulness1 that though he himself may
 have no part or lot in its creation1   

and be dumb or awkward in its presence1 
a man will be the brighter for having   
passed1 if but for a moment1 out of the 
darkness of his own course into the     
radiance within its orbit4 ,to the      
diffident this is an especial grace4    
,for children by some deeper intuition  
understand us as their parents cannot   
do2 and when all the world is cold will 
often smile upon us with happy upturned 
faces4 ,it is one of my consolations    
that the little players in the parks    
come running to me rather than to others
 with their eternal question after the  
exact hour of day4 ,for ,i reflect that 
though my face grows wrinkled and drawn 
with years1 there must yet hover        
something about its ugly surface which  
tells of a good will within4 ,there was 
a time when ,i found the children's     
question importunate1 and drew out my   
watch ungraciously2 but now ,i feel     
disappointment if during their hours of 
play ,i can walk my mile without        
answering one of these high-pitched     

inquiries4  ,to have the confidence of  
children is indeed a thing of which a   
poor wanderer may be proud1 a credential
 confirming his self-respect1 and worthy
 one day to be presented at the gate of 
heaven4 ,once during one of my worst    
hours of desolation1 when ,i was        
tramping across the fields1 ,i found a  
little maid of seven picking primroses  
on the edge of an old orchard4 ,for some
 time ,i stood watching1 so charmed with
 the grace of her movements and the     
beauty of the spring sunlight on her    
golden mane1 that ,i lost all           
consciousness of present trouble1 and   
beyond her fairy form began to see vague
 visions of lost happiness returning4   
,as ,i stood thus forgetful and looking 
absently before me1 ,i suddenly felt a  
touch which recalled my scattered       
thoughts3 she had come to me and put her
 hand in mine4 ,i think in all my lonely
 life ,i never felt so swift a          
thankfulness as that which suffused me  
then3 the memory of it is always with   

me1 and now ,i never see a happy child  
engrossed in its little task of duty or 
pleasure without thinking to myself     
there is one of those who truly have    
power to remit sins4 ,i will not repeat 
the fond things often written about     
children4 ,not all of them are like the 
infant angels of ,bellini or ,filippino 
,lippi or ,carpaccio2 some indeed are   
strident1 pert1 without charm or        
candour1 not doves but little jays2 but 
for the loveliness of those who have    
smiled upon me1 whether rich or poor1   
whether wild or tended flowers1 ,i shall
 ever hold the whole company dear4      
,whether ,i read or write1 or go        
painfully upon difficult paths of       
thought1 like many other men whom the   
world dismays1 ,i win a larger          
tranquillity and a clearer vision from  
an increased simplicity of life4 ,i know
 that to use the word asceticism of     
one's daily practice is to incur the    
judgment of all those whom the world    
calls good fellows1 whose motto is live 

and let live1 or any other aphorism of  
convenient and universal remission4 ,to 
them asceticism is the deterrent        
saintliness which renounces all joy1 and
 with a hard thin voice condemns the    
leanings of mankind to reasonable       
indulgence4 ,the ill-favour drawn down  
by ecclesiastical exaggeration upon the 
good ,greek word askesis1 which means   
nothing more than the practice of       
fitness1 has prejudiced men against all 
system of conduct bold enough to include
 it in their terminology4  ,kant's      
chapter on the ,ascetic ,exercise of    
,ethics is a fine defence of that       
training of the heart and mind which has
 no affinity with the morbid discipline 
of hair shirt and scourge4 ,the ascetic 
exercise of the monasteries1 he says1   
inspired by superstitious fear and the  
hypocritical disesteem of a man's own   
self1 sets to work with self-reproaches1
 whimpering compunction and a torturing 
of the body4 ,it is intended not to     
result in virtue but to make expiation  

for sins1 and by self-imposed punishment
 the sinners expect to do penance1      
instead of ethically repenting4 ,and    
again--,all ethical gymnastics consist  
therefore singly in subjugating the     
instincts and appetites of our physical 
system 444 a gymnastic exercise         
rendering the will hardy and robust1    
which by the consciousness of regained  
freedom makes the heart glad4  ,this is 
sound doctrine1 neither ungodly nor     
inhuman1 the word of a man in whose     
veins the warm blood yet flowed4 ,few   
pictures of venerable age please more   
than that of the old philosopher of     
,koenigsberg drawn for us by de ,quincey
 in one of his miscellaneous ,essays4   
,there we see ,immanuel ,kant1 leading  
his tranquil sane existence1 giving his 
friends sober entertainment1 talking    
brightly of mundane things1 practising  
the hilarity which goes hand in hand    
with virtue4 ,for me the very           
eccentricities of his daily routine have
 a fascination1 and ,i read them as a   

devout ,catholic reads many a quaint    
passage in the ,acta ,sanctorum4 ,how   
wise was his nightly habit1 as he       
settled himself in bed before falling   
asleep1 to asseverate with a sigh of    
thankfulness that no man living was more
 contented and healthier than he6 ,here 
is the true asceticism1 the child's glad
 abandonment to nature maintained and   
grown articulate in philosophic age4    
,to this beauty of plain life ,i cannot 
attain4 ,but my own life is as far      
removed as may be from brilliant or     
luxurious pleasures1 and ,i divide my   
time between the country and the town4  
,this ,i do from obedience to reason    
rather than fashion2 for while the      
country has my love1 the city is more   
remedial to my peculiar pain4 ,there the
 shy man may have what ,lamb called the 
perfect and sympathetic solitude1 as    
opposed to the inhuman and              
cavern-haunting solitariness1 to which  
his infirmity inclines4 ,there he and   
those who rub shoulders with him on the 

pavement can enjoy each other's want of 
conversation4 ,no creature with a heart 
can jostle daily with his kind1 but he  
wins some consciousness of kindly       
feeling4 ,the very annoyances and       
constraints of propinquity are in their 
own way disciplinary1 and insistent1    
uncongenial persons1 like glaring red   
buoys with clanging bells1 serve at     
least to keep us in the fairway of      
navigation4 ,and in a city there are    
voices of cheerful exhortation always   
echoing in the higher air above the roar
 and the trampling1 which in the        
interludes of coarser sound1 or by our  
removal into some quiet court or garden1
 may be heard repeating their stirring  
watchwords of endeavour4 ,we are told   
that no word spoken ever dies1 but goes 
reverberating through space for ever4   
,it is my fancy that only evil words    
escape into the outer void1 which       
eternally engulfs their profitless      
message1 while words of hope and        
helpfulness are not thus lightly        

sundered from the world that needs them1
 but hover still near above us1         
descending with every lull of the tumult
 into those ears which are strained     
towards them4 ,the laden air of towns   
carries not the rumour of the battle    
only1 but by the presence of these fair 
echoes held within it1 gives back to the
 soul more health than ever it drew from
 the body4 ,with this thought ,i am     
often consoled as ,i go my way through  
gloom and clamour and unloveliness1     
finding a ,providence in places which   
else seem abandoned in the outer        
desolation4  ,nor is the vast city to be
 valued only for what it gives1 but for 
its own wonderful self1 an obvious point
 which need not be expanded into a      
tedious circle4 ,the shy will naturally 
draw more advantage from so rich a field
 of contemplation than those who seldom 
walk alone4 ,in ,london ,i often map out
 a course of wandering which in its     
varied stages shall remind me of the    
change in progress or decay of          

particular arts or industries or        
different quarters of the town4 ,reading
 their meaning in the light of history1 
,i make bare walls speak to me with a   
personal voice4 ,let any one but        
acquaint himself with the styles of     
ecclesiastical or domestic architecture1
 or of monuments of the dead1 or with   
the history of the thoroughfares he     
frequents1 and he will be pleasantly    
constrained to reflection upon those who
 have gone before him4 ,as he stands in 
the shadow of an ancient church he will 
think to himself3 ,by this very wall    
,chaucer may have stood4 ,as he walks   
amid the reverberating ravines which are
 city streets he will say3 ,here along  
green and silent paths the ,roman       
legionary marched when ,hadrian ruled   
the world4 ,when once the faculty of    
observation has been awakened to a      
permanent alertness1 the desire to be   
widely read in history of men and their 
arts will become irresistible2 and      
through the knowledge gradually amassed 

it will be thought a sorry chance if any
 ramble of wider compass yield no vision
 which in comeliness or deformity tells 
its tale of changing fortune4 ,to       
appreciate human work1 and the          
conditions under which it is born1 is to
 exult in abounding sympathy with this  
man's conquest over things poor in      
promise1 or to condole with that man's  
failure to do the best that in him lay4 
,as ,i walk by the strand of ,thames1 my
 fancy sees upon one flood the gay barge
 gliding upward to green fields1 and the
 black hull bearing down the prisoner to
 the ,traitors' ,gate4 ,if ,i go up     
,holborn1 ,i remember that where this   
traffic now thunders ,john ,gerard      
tended his ,physic ,garden when         
,elizabeth was queen4 ,i know where     
,sarah ,siddons lived2 and where        
,william ,blake died2 and my curious    
wanderings are now so far extended1 that
 when ,i turn to the great book of      
,london ,i seldom find a tedious page4  
,the places where people strove and     

suffered evoke before me the forms of   
men and women dead but unforgotten1 and 
if ,i am alone ,i am not aware of       
loneliness4  ,london is the central     
wonder1 but wonderful also in spirit and
 suggestion are those old places which  
ring it round3 these ,i often frequent  
at every season1 and carry their        
portraits over my heart4 ,let a man once
 learn to know them1 and his memory     
shall never starve2 he will never forget
 the hour when first they yielded him up
 their secret4 ,many moments of intimate
 delight do ,i treasure in remembrance1 
moments when ,i was suddenly aware that 
all previous impressions were the poor  
gatherings of purblind eyes2 but ,i will
 only tell you of one1 which may suffice
 to show what riches lie ever open to   
those who roam in solitude4  ,it was    
mid-,april and the close of a cloudless 
day4 ,i had been to the ,observatory    
hill at ,greenwich to see the sun set   
over ,london1 looking for such a        
transfiguration of the grey city as     

should reveal its line of warehouses    
lying along the horizon in a mist of    
splendour like the walls of the ,new    
,jerusalem4 ,so ,i had seen it before1  
marvellous and refined in unearthly     
fire3 but to-day1 in a sadder mood1 and 
hungering more deeply for the vision1 ,i
 looked out to the west in vain4 ,for   
the wind had set in from the east1 and  
driven back upon the town a zone of     
iron-grey smoke1 ragged along its upper 
edge like a great water blown to spray1 
but merging below with those gloomy and 
innumerable buildings4 ,upon this the   
sun1 which all day had ridden in a clear
 air1 was slowly falling1 losing        
radiance with every minute1 until as it 
approached that gloomy spray it was     
luminous no more1 but a dull red orb    
whose light1 like a flame withdrawn into
 the consumed heart of coals1 glows for 
awhile beneath a gathering film of grey4
 ,in a few minutes it descended1 as if  
sadly and of resolution1 into the murky 
sea1 where for a moment its red curves  

seemed to refine the smoke into         
translucency2 but at last the dun waves 
gathered upon it dark and voluminous1   
drowning it so deeply that the clearer  
sky above was instantly robbed of the   
wonted after-glow4 ,some pale reflection
 there was in the upper heaven1 ensuring
 a time of twilight1 but no glory2 and  
smitten with a congruous sadness1 ,i    
went down to the river4 ,but there1     
pacing to and fro as if upon a          
quarter-deck1 with the water lapping    
upon the wall beneath1 ,i lived one of  
the happy hours of life1 redeemed from  
disappointment1 and carried far into a  
magical world4  ,the flood tide1 which  
had turned for more than an hour1 was   
now racing down wilful for the sea1     
though the breeze ruffling its surface  
seemed to thwart and stay its eager     
course4 ,and on the surface1 indeed1    
chafed and broken into innumerable      
ripples1 the wind triumphed2 but as one 
looked westwards towards the city1 it   
was clear that the sullen strength of   

stream and tide had the mastery4 ,for   
over the broad curving reach1 lit like  
white unburnished silver with the       
reflection of the pallid sky1 there     
glided forward a line of barges each    
with every red sail set1 and as silent  
as if they sallied from a besieged city4
 ,one by one they hung out their lights1
 the lamps swaying and casting yellow   
bars over the quivering water1 until in 
perfect silence all passed down before  
me4 ,each in turn attaining the lower   
bend where the river sweeps northward1  
went about and stood for the ,middlesex 
shore2 and then for a moment the wind   
seemed to overcome the tide1 for before 
the boat could win new way1 lying almost
 broadside across the stream1 the breeze
 held her motionless1 like a tired bird 
on a windy day when it flies out from   
the shelter of the wood4 ,it was but for
 a moment1 and then the blunt bows      
glided forward towards the north bank1  
and another barge succeeded in the      
gathering gloom4  ,and so it was until  

all were passed4 ,the departing light   
drew the colours from the red sails and 
the silvery brightness from the river2  
all forms became outlined in black upon 
what uncertain light remained4 ,two men 
put off in a boat from an anchored ship2
 the mingled sound of their oars and    
voices came with subdued tone as if out 
of an infinite distance4 ,then the whole
 reach lay bare and silent for a while1 
and only the little waves lapping upon  
the stone steps played an accompaniment 
to my dream4  ,the hour and the place   
compelled to reverie1 and memory        
consenting to their evocative charm1 ,i 
peopled the still scene with the forms  
of those who had swayed or shared the   
fortunes of this land2 imperious        
,elizabeth and gentler ,mary1 the slight
 heroic figure with one sleeve pinned   
empty on the breast1 and all those who1 
going down to their business in deep    
waters or returning therefrom1 have     
saluted with melancholy or with joy     
these towers and this wooded hill4 ,i   

thought of the lads playing beneath     
these trees1 and so inbreathing the     
spirit of this place that for them there
 was no career but to follow the river  
down to ocean1 and ocean himself in his 
circuit of the world4 ,i thought of the 
veterans returned from that quest1 old  
,argonauts of a later day1 now          
clustering round the ,hospital fires and
 perhaps recalling amid tales of havens 
and high seas the very morning when they
 first dropped round the bend and passed
 into the new world beyond4 ,for this   
,thames is such an avenue and entry into
 marvellous life that earth can show no 
greater rival1 none more rich in dignity
 or in the multitude of its merchandise4
 ,and if the flood of that merchandise  
shall cease1 and the stream once more go
 lonely to the sea or carry coracles1 it
 cannot be again as if it had never     
borne great ships1 or swung the         
,admiral's galley on its tide4  ,it is  
good for an ,englishman to stand here   
and listen to the brown waters lapping  

on the old walls and caulked timbers2 to
 hear1 as an under murmur1 voices of    
,lechlade and ,bablockhythe1 for all    
intervening leagues of wood and meadow  
not altogether lost3 before this        
persistence and continuity of youth to  
feel high thoughts stir within him and  
solemnize the nativity of new resolve4  
,you cannot feel beneath your feet these
 old stones trodden by the great        
generations of your own blood and       
kindred1 and not be moved to walk       
uprightly1 to be approved by their      
shades as one not unworthy of such      
descent4 ,for whether such worn stones  
be in the aisle of some great minster1  
or here1 paving this narrow way for     
hurrying feet1 the inspiration is as    
strong and the thankfulness not other4  
,for this is a place of meridian1 the   
navel of our land and empire2 the wind  
searching its alleys has no usual voice1
 but as it were a deep and oceanic      
sound1 according with old ballads and   
stories of the sea4  ,i lingered leaning

 upon the rail until the tide had fallen
 from the wall1 tracing along the narrow
 pebbled foreshore a clear marginal line
 of irregular contour1 now sinuous1 now 
straight1 but palely luminous like a    
silver tone on some enamel of old       
,italy1 a line drawn by a master        
draughtsman1 in its inevitable and sure 
perfection wholly satisfying the eye4   
,with the dark bank it vanished towards 
the great city1 now marked in the upper 
sky by a hovering brightness of light   
escaped beyond the smoky rampart to tell
 the effort of innumerable lamps        
beneath1 all pouring their blurred and  
vain effulgence to the disdainful stars4
  ,moreover1 the city will give the shy 
man all the consolations of art1        
philosophy and literature of which his  
education or experience may have made   
him worthy4 ,he can see great pictures  
or read great books at little cost1 and 
find in them the truest of friends in   
need4 ,it is so obvious that a solitary 
of any culture will find relief with    

such companions1 that here ,i take for  
granted his resort to their aid1 and    
will only mention two resources from    
which the real recluse often draws less 
advantage than he might1 ,i mean        
orchestral music and the drama4 ,any man
 of feeling who hears a great symphony  
ceases to be self-centred with the first
 movement2 he goes out of himself1 and  
rides upon waves of sound1 exalted by   
this majesty of collective effort4 ,no  
other music thrills his whole being like
 this1 which sweeps him with all around 
into the very course of changing fates4 
,in the confluence of dim hopes and     
passions which rise above the harmonies 
like smoke-wreaths riding the red flame1
 the soul glows interfluous with other  
souls and is elated with the inspiration
 of their presence4 ,he bears arms      
exulting who never had comrades till    
now2 his will is absorbed in confederate
 joy and human force unanimous4 ,in this
 abandonment of the whole being1 the    
diffident know their fellows near1 and  

in the ecstasy of shared emotion learn  
the full measure of their humanity4     
,philosophers in all ages have known and
 taught the power of music in compelling
 ten thousand to the love of one1 and so
 ennobling an infinite multitude in the 
glow of a common emotion4 ,sound was the
 first instinctive language1 one for man
 and winds and waters2 and music1 which 
is the development of this primeval     
converse1 leaving to grammars the       
expression of cold and abstract thought1
 has gathered about her in her mountain 
caverns the echoes of all sighs sad or  
passionate1 of all inarticulate cries   
born of aspiration or desire1 and there 
blended them into eternal harmonies     
which at her word flow forth and join   
the hearts of men4  ,indeed1 that swift 
responsiveness of feeling which music   
thus awakes is a gift beyond gems of    
,golconda2 not youth's swift effusion   
cheaply given and soon forgotten1 but   
the vibration of a heart stirred in     
sympathy with some profound note of     

life1 as the dyed pane stirs and quivers
 when the organ gives forth its deepest 
tones4 ,sentiment is a draught of old   
wine passing into the veins and         
enriching the blood1 until in the       
generous glow all the privations and the
 stints of loneliness are forgotten4    
,pure emotion is like righteous anger1  
which may be lawfully indulged if the   
sun go not down upon it2 and as he who  
shrinks from all fire of wrath lives but
 a vaporous life1 so he who will never  
be moved is proud of a poor crustacean  
strength1 like the limpet1 winning      
darkness in exchange for dull stability4
 ,as for me1 in the propitious hour when
 the heart longs for expansion1 ,i give 
it honourable licence1 and quicken its  
unfolding by spells of magical words4   
,at such times ,i invoke the aid of     
passionate souls1 not shrinking even    
from the vain1 provided that they loved 
greatly and give great expression to    
their humanity4 ,such is that wild lover
 of ,george ,sand whose ,souvenir1 for  

all its rhetoric1 charms like an        
incantation4 ,the ancients quenched the 
ashes of the pyre with red wine1 as if  
the blood of the god-given vine could   
hearten the spirit that yet hovered     
near4 ,over my ashes let no wine be     
poured1 but read me such verses high and
 valiant1 that if my soul yet lingers   
undelivered from the earth's attraction 
it may be regenerated and set free into 
a braver life4  ,and let the lonely man 
be an assiduous frequenter of the       
playhouse1 for the drama will also open 
the world's heart to him1 and that by a 
plainer and less elusive speech4 ,seated
 in the theatre among his kind1 he knows
 a deeper pleasure than other men2 for  
while to these the changing scene brings
 remembrance or anticipation of familiar
 things1 to him it reveals whole vistas 
of life which1 except in dreams1 his    
feet may never tread4 ,when the curtain 
is rung down1 and he goes out into the  
street1 for a while at least his        
existence is transformed4 ,all those    

front doors aligned in their innumerable
 sequence1 which in daylight or darkness
 he passes when he wanders alone1 are   
now no longer barred against him2 they  
open at the touch of his fancy1 and he  
sees within the light of homeliness1    
where father1 mother1 and child weave   
round warm firesides their close        
conspiracies of affection4 ,at last he  
knows what is passing behind those bars2
 like an old family friend he takes his 
place by the fire and receives as of    
right the confidences which in his real 
lonely life never find their way to his 
ears4 ,he helps the lovers to build     
their cloudy castles1 he reasons away   
the parents' care1 he goes up-stairs    
with a shaded candle to look in upon the
 children sleeping4 ,good women unlock  
the jewel-caskets which are their souls2
 happy maidens are sisterly with him2   
strong men grapple him to their hearts  
and call him friend4 ,he that was       
vagabond has now innumerable homes1 and 
of the faces that fleet by him out of   

doors there are always some which seem  
to give him greeting4  ,these secret and
 unavowed alliances transfigure the     
unlovely streets1 and light in the      
cavernous blank houses many a glowing   
and familiar hearth4 ,as he goes on1    
careless of distance or direction1 he is
 now inwardly busy with fresh and       
delightful dreams4 ,he plights his troth
 and earth is ,eden2 he imagines        
brilliant hours for the dream-children  
who go by his side1 holding each of his 
hands4 ,and if the visions change1 and  
sorrow or sin pass in over a familiar   
threshold1 what generous abnegation1    
what pity1 what righteous wrath does he 
not know1 until the plastic power of    
fancy moulds out of this poor recluse a 
man like other men4 ,amid these         
visionary sympathies time goes quickly  
by1 and returning to his voiceless      
dwelling he has stored up such wealth of
 dreams that he can even endure the     
supreme test when the lonely man finds  
himself sitting in the wan light with no

 one near him to whom he is dear4 ,of   
the strength and peacefulness which     
bring him safely through that hour of   
desolation he owes much to the players1 
who have shot the drab texture of life  
with an infinity of bright and tender   
hues1 so that he can bear to turn it in 
his hands and look upon it with a       
wistful pleasure4 ,i say1 then1 let the 
shy man frequent the playhouse1 and     
there facet and burnish his dulled mind 
until it reflects1 if it may not touch1 
the many-sided world4  ,for the         
discipline of sympathy1 for the         
quickened sense of comradeship in work1 
for the very presence of that           
unloveliness which compels sympathy1 ,i 
dwell more months in the town than in   
the country-side4 ,but remembering what 
,nature did to save me1 and owing her an
 endless debt of filial duty1 ,i return 
to her in the summer days1 and to make  
up for the long months of separation    
cling nearer to her than most of her    
truant sons4 ,for communion with        

,nature1 the ideal joy of country life1 
is not attained by the sportsman or the 
mere player of games1 who think of their
 bodies chiefly1 and use as a means to  
rude physical vigour the end ordained   
for the fine contentience of body1 mind1
 and spirit4 ,again ,i will pass by the 
obvious and familiar resources of       
outdoor life1 and speak only of such as 
men are unaccountably prone to neglect4 
,there is a way of learning nature which
 in this wet land is mostly followed by 
tramps and vagrants2 the way of sleeping
 beneath the stars4 ,so far is this joy 
from the thoughts of most men1 that even
 ,george ,borrow felt a strange         
uneasiness when for the first time the  
darkness descended upon him in the open 
country4 ,i think we carry with us all  
our lives that fear of night with which 
nursery tales inspired our childhood2 it
 reinforces the later more reasoned fear
 of boisterous weather1 or of the men   
who walk in darkness because their works
 are evil4 ,we shrink from night as a   

chill privation of daylight1 as a gloom 
which we must traverse1 but not inhabit2
 the distrust becomes with years        
instinctive and universal1 and the      
nearest approach to friendly relation   
with night attained by most of us is a  
timid liking for the twilight hours4    
,yet as the sun rises alike upon the    
just and upon the unjust even so does he
 descend1 and we put a slight upon      
,providence if we abandon to rogues and 
rakes that wonderful kingdom of the     
darkness of which by natural prerogative
 we are enfranchised4 ,by never using   
our proper freedom1 we give them        
prescriptive licence of usurpation1 so  
that the hours in which the heavens are 
nearest to us are become the peculiar   
inheritance of thieves4  ,i confess that
 on the night when first ,i set out to  
do without a bedroom ,i too felt all the
 force of the traditional mistrust4 ,i  
heard human whispers in the wind1 and   
saw the shadows of walls and trees as   
forms of men lurking to spring out      

against me4 ,the movements of roosting  
birds startled me as ,i passed2 the     
sudden silences startled me more4 ,and  
when ,i had spread my gear on the ground
 and settled down to rest1 the sense of 
exposure on every side made sleep       
impossible2 time after time ,i seemed to
 hear footsteps stealthily approaching2 
and there was a strangeness pervading   
everything which to my nervous fancy was
 simply provocative of apparitions4     
,this lasted many nights2 and whether ,i
 established myself on the edge of a    
copse1 or in the open grass1 or in a    
hammock beneath two trees1 ,i continued 
a prey to the same uneasy wakefulness4  
,but then1 as if satisfied of good faith
 by such perseverance1 the night began  
to wear a friendly aspect1 the shadows  
gave up their ghosts1 and the breezes   
became the expected messengers of       
slumber4  ,when the lonely sleeper-out  
has grown familiar with the moonlight   
and the darkness1 he is admitted into   
the number of earth's favoured sons2 for

 lying like a child upon her bosom1 he  
hears her heart beating in the silence1 
and wakes to see her smiling in her     
beauty like a queen apparelled4 ,to no  
man slumber comes more gently than to   
him2 and his uprising is as that of a   
child exulting in the cloudless day4    
,health and innocence return to him1 and
 his one sorrow is that he has lived    
into maturity without continually       
partaking of these sane and natural     
delights4 ,remorse is his that for all  
these years he has feared the dews and  
shrunk from the bland night airs2 and   
remembering the needless imprisonment of
 a hundred chambers1 he mourns over the 
irrecoverable hours which would have    
rooted his life more deeply in          
tranquillity and strength4 ,but the     
,june sun is up1 and the birds are      
singing3 he strides with light step over
 the grass1 watching the rabbits play in
 the glades1 and in unison with a host  
of fellow-creatures singing a welcome to
 the dawn4 ,when it is time for him to  

think of home and he comes once more    
beneath a doorway1 he has a mind        
refreshed by the quietude of dim space1 
and a heart replenished with innocence  
and good-will4 ,he who so sleeps hates  
no man1 and will go upon the dullest way
 free from petulance or despair4 ,the   
scent of the rich earth is in his       
nostrils1 and the clearness of morning  
air has passed into his eyes4  ,i have  
made my lair in many places since ,i    
first kept house with ,nature4 ,i have  
couched in heather by the pines of hills
 far above the ,sussex ,weald2 ,i have  
lain in dry furrows or on the margin of 
a copse1 or in the parks of the children
 of fortune1 for whose welfare1 in      
gratitude for their unconscious         
hospitality1 ,i shall ever pray4 ,but of
 all wild resting-places ,i have known1 
the openest are the most delightful4 ,to
 see the whole sweep of the stars2 to   
lie on the shorn ground free of all that
 overshadows or encompasses or confines2
 to breathe in the great gulf of air2 to

 stretch unhindered limbs--this is an   
initiation into a new life1 a pleasant  
memory in the long glooms of winter4    
,let nothing come between you and the   
stars1 that they may look well upon your
 face1 and haply repenting of some      
ancient unkindliness1 draw you at this  
rebirth a new horoscope of blessing and 
fair fortune4 ,and if slumber tarries   
when you lie in an open spot1 you may   
consciously ride the great globe through
 space1 and like the shepherd watching  
by his flock in the clear night while   
star rises after star1 grow aware of the
 great earth rolling to the east beneath
 you4  ,in these still hours of night or
 early dawn there steals upon the       
charmed mind an ,orphic sense of worship
 and inexplicable joy4 ,for here on bare
 uplands and wooded hills1 where the    
starlight rains down through the        
silence1 or the day1 welling up over the
 rim of the downs1 glides fresh from the
 lips of ocean1 a calm river of light1  
here is the place of ,dionysus1 of him  

born from fire and dew1 ,zagreus the    
soul of clean souls and wild lives1 his 
heart a-quiver with vague sadness drawn 
from all the worlds1 ,eleutherios1      
loosener of heart and lip1 the          
regenerator1 the absolver1 the eternally
 misunderstood1 whose true followers are
 priests of impassioned pure life1 whose
 wine is not juice of grapes but the    
clear air ambient upon the hills4 ,here 
when sleep is shamed away by expectant  
awe1 the whole being grows one with     
all-environing life2 personality glides 
into the stream of cosmic existence1    
lost and found a thousand times in the  
trance and ecstasy of dim divine        
feelings beyond the power of words      
inexpressible4 ,it is miracle2 it is    
religion2 it is a feast of purification 
above pomps or mysteries1 a cleansing   
ritual without victims and undefiled4   
,in such hours1 and in such hours alone1
 man and things are joined in a supreme 
utterance of life high and humble1      
transient and immortal1 by which the    

fellowship of all existences within the 
universe is made real and significant to
 the initiate mind4 ,for in the day     
fences are about us1 roofs and towers   
impend above our heads1 we are cribbed  
in streets and markets1 the din of      
rhetoric or sordid bargaining fills our 
ears4 ,or if we withdraw into some still
 chamber1 yet the walls built by hired  
hands offend1 and the doorposts of      
sapless timber2 no high influence can   
penetrate to us save through the close  
court of memory1 and compared with the  
breezy starlit meadows1 how poor an     
avenue to the soul is that6  ,and the   
exuberant sun of noon distracts1 and the
 multitude of his beams is troublous1   
for what does sight avail if the things 
of the heart's desire are lost in       
immeasurable perplexities of light8 ,for
 in the high day the quivering bright   
air is more opaque than the dim spaces  
of night1 so tranquil and severe1 or the
 glowing kingdoms of the morning4 ,at   
the springing of the day the eyes open  

upon awakening flowers1 giving filial   
heed to the marvellous earth which waits
 in patience for a human greeting4 ,i   
like the passage in which ,chaucer tells
 how in ,may-time his couch was spread  
in an arbour upon the margin of the     
grass1 that he might wake to see the    
daisies unfold their petals4 ,sleeping  
thus1 he also must have known those     
intervals of slumber when a sense of    
some impending wonder grows too strong  
for sleep1 and all nature seems calling 
to high vision4 ,often ,i have been thus
 awakened1 not by noise or movement1 but
 as it were by some strange prescience  
of beauty constraining me to rise and   
look4 ,once ,i was drawn some distance  
round the corner of a copse1 and there1 
low in the sable-blue of the sky1 in a  
rivalry of intense but dazzling light1  
the crescent moon hung splendid over    
against a great constellation which     
glittered like a carcanet of diamonds4  
,they seemed to speak together as if in 
some scene or passage of celestial      

drama1 nor did ,i know which was the    
diviner speech1 the moon's unwavering   
effulgence or that leaping coruscation  
of the stars4 ,nothing stirred on the   
right hand or the left1 but earth and   
air were hushed1 as if before that      
colloquy all sound and motion were      
miraculously holden4 ,tall trees brown  
with densest shadows were massed upon   
one side1 obscuring half the heaven1 and
 lending by their contrasted gloom that 
sense of wizardry in natural things     
which enchants the clear summer nights  
when the air is still4  ,this is but one
 among many visions of which the        
remembrance makes life worshipful2 and  
it is pity that at the hour of their    
coming well-nigh all whom they should   
delight lie chambered within brick      
walls1 lost in sleep or in the mazes of 
unprofitable thoughts4 ,for these things
 in their rare appearances are more     
precious than an hour's slumber1 were it
 dreamless as a child's1 or all the     
watches of luxurious unrest4 ,if another

 summer is given me ,i hope to take the 
road when ,july has come with balmy     
nights1 and wander days at a stretch    
with all ,i need upon my shoulders4     
,then ,i shall know the real joy of     
vagrancy1 caring little where night     
finds me1 and quickening my steps for   
nothing and for no man4 ,i shall linger 
in every glade or on every hill-top     
which calls to me to stay2 ,i shall tell
 all the hedgerow flowers1 and lean over
 the gates to watch the foals playing4  
,the brooks shall be my washing-basins1 
and ,i shall quench hunger and thirst in
 the tiled kitchens of lonely           
farmsteads4 ,if ,i hear the shriek of a 
train ,i shall smile when ,i think of   
its cooped and harried passengers1 and  
plunge devious into some pathless wood1 
in whose depths the only sounds are the 
tap of the woodpecker's bill or the     
measured axe-strokes of the woodman4 ,i 
shall fling myself down to rest under   
what tree ,i will1 and pulling from my  
pocket the book of my choice1 ,i shall  

summon a wise and cheerful companion to 
my side as easily as ever oriental      
magician called a jinn to do him        
service4 ,i shall once more be commensal
 with wild creatures1 and wonder that   
solitude was ever a pain2 ,i shall be   
healthily disdainful of the             
valetudinarian who lives to spoil either
 his body or his soul4  ,these are the  
wanderings which henceforward will      
chiefly suffice to my need4 ,for since  
,i roamed my fill in other continents   
the gadfly may no longer sting me out of
 my tranquil haunts4 ,in their youth    
lonely people suffer more than others   
from that restlessness which fills the  
mind with sudden distaste for the       
present scene1 and a fierce longing to  
be somewhere far away4 ,others are      
preserved from it by the love of home2  
but we1 in our poverty of attachment1   
listen more readily to the depreciating 
voice4  ,i remember how deep had always 
been my longing to look out upon the sea
 from some ,greek island1 and how one   

day1 when this desire was granted1 and  
,i walked along hills set high above the
 blue ,a,egean1 ,i was seized with an   
instant yearning to be instead upon     
,ranmore ,common in ,surrey4 ,yet at    
that moment a life's ambition was being 
fulfilled2 ,i stood in a scene of       
incomparable beauty1 gazing down on     
those deep azure waters whose voice is  
always to me as a lament for wandering  
,odysseus2 the lower slopes were rich   
with olive trees1 powdering with silver 
the tilled lands round a beautiful      
monastery lying there in its enchanted  
rest4 ,dark cypresses rose amid white   
walls of villages1 by the contrast of   
their gloom making all bright colours   
glorious2 away to the left1 where the   
shore verged westward tracing inimitable
 curves between field and sea1 lay      
slumbering a little white town with     
minarets and walled gardens and tiny    
haven--a very place for ,argonauts2 and 
yet my thoughts turned to the chalk     
downs of ,england and honeysuckle       

crowning the unfruitful hollies4 ,sed   
quia semper abest quod aves praesentia  
temnis2--,such desire has distracted    
,roman minds2 the perversity is very    
old2 and perhaps only children find no  
disillusion in the accomplishment of a  
dream4  ,for our feet have one country  
and our dreams another1 and there is no 
constancy in us4 ,it is not alone in the
 bartering of one earthly scene for its 
fellow that we suffer the sick thirst of
 change2 but into the rarest hour of    
achieved ideal to which hope promised   
her supreme satisfaction1 the same      
wayward longing will often find a way2  
as in a sacred place amid the purest and
 most exquisite meditations of the soul1
 there will suddenly flit inexplicable  
shadows of irreverence1 with echoes of  
incongruous voices from the abandoned   
world4  ,but now as the years pass and  
the penury of human love has made the   
home woods and fields more dear1 ,i feel
 that this unrest is drawing to its end4
 ,for as the seasons pass over the      

uplands and the meadows1 clothing them  
with new splendours between the         
seed-time and the harvest1 no vision    
rises upon the memory dearer and more   
beneficent than theirs4 ,as the lover's 
fancy dwells upon the image of his      
beloved in this or that environment1 and
 thus or thus arrayed1 so ,i see the    
woods and fields in the various glories 
of the year and know not in which garb  
,i love them best4 ,they have heard my  
laments1 my confidences1 all my broken  
resolves3 they are bound to me by so    
pure and intimate an affection that all 
those grander wonders of the world      
should never draw me again from this    
allegiance4 ,not for the vision of      
,himalaya piercing the heaven1 or the   
sunsets of ,sienna1 or the moonlight on 
the ,taj ,mahal1 or for any other beauty
 or any wonder shall ,i weary of the    
cornfields framed in elms or the great  
horses turning in the furrow against the
 evening sky4  ,for with the growth of  
years our desires wander less1 and are  

mercifully contracted to the scope of   
our wearying powers4 ,we haunt the same 
old places and want the same old things1
 dwelling amongst them with an          
increasing constancy of devotion4 ,for  
we find that year by year the old places
 and things are not really the same2    
something has touched them in our       
absence2 strange still agencies have    
intervened1 long silences of dissolution
 and the ineluctable fate of change4    
,and so that perfect sameness which we  
find unattainable takes on the quality  
of ideal and demands the grown man's    
devotion1 as the change that is         
forbidden casts its resistless spell    
over the guarded and tethered child4    
,the eyes of youth are on the far end of
 the vista1 those of age upon the near2 
the old horse that has drawn the coulter
 through the clay is glad for the four  
hedges of the paddock which irk the     
growing colt's desire4 ,when ,richard   
,jefferies was asked why he walked the  
same lane day after day1 at first he was

 at a loss for a reply2 but gradually   
the reason became clear to him4 ,it was 
because he had become aware of the iron 
law3 ,nothing twice3 he wanted the same 
old and loved things not twice but      
endlessly2 he was yearly more eager to  
be with them1 and paint indelibly upon  
his memory their delicate quiet beauty1 
their soft and perishable charm4  ,that 
is how ,i also feel1 as with the return 
of summer ,i wander out into the old    
meadows and climb the familiar hills2 ,i
 find myself hoping that nothing is     
changed1 and am stirred with sweet      
anxieties of reminiscence4 ,and surely  
within the enchanted boundaries of the  
counties where ,i ramble1 there is      
variety which not the hundred eyes of   
,argus could exhaust4 ,these fields and 
woodlands in high summer feast all the  
senses with a surfeit of delights4 ,how 
good it is to exercise in all its range 
the fine mechanism of the body1         
suffering each part of it to indulge its
 own hunger after beauty2 to feel the   

texture of petals1 and draw the long    
grasses through the fingers2 to breathe 
an air laden with the scent of blossoms1
 passing from uplands fragrant with     
bean-flowers into untilled regions      
odorous with pines2 to hear the birds'  
chorus at sunrise and the distant sound 
of reaping2 to see innumerable marvels2 
the belts of clover mantling wine-dark  
in the wind2 the poppies in the standing
 corn1 the carmine yew-stems on the     
downs2 above you the soft grey clouds   
delicately floating2 below you1 as the  
day declines1 some distant lonely water 
emerging in its glory to be the mirror  
and refuge of all heaven's light2 to    
remember the gorse and broom and look   
forward to the royal purple of the      
heather--all this is a consummation of  
pure life1 a high1 sensuous pleasure    
penetrating to the inmost soul1 and of  
such exceeding price that to disdain its
 offerings or to pass incurious before  
them1 is to live in the blindness of the
 tribe of ,genseric4  ,in such          

wanderings the mind is filled with slow 
and seasonable thoughts1 lasting as the 
trees and buildings of the country-side4
 ,old deliberate contemplations1        
perceptions after long regard ingathered
 from abundant nature1 theories         
leisurely compacted in sunshine or      
storm1 to stand in the fields of memory1
 crowned with beauty by the indulgent   
years4 ,so in the visible meadows stand 
the ancient barns1 with roofs of umber  
tiles parcel-gilded with old gold of    
lichen1 and crowning their seasoned     
timbers as naturally as leaves2 restful 
structures of a quiet age1 capacious of 
dim space1 unvexed by the glare of a    
hundred summers4  ,and if you ask what  
profit is here for one who must do      
battle in the loud world1 study for a   
while the artifice and industrious      
policy of plants by which they attract  
to themselves the visitants they need or
 with most masterful defence repel the  
importunate advance1 and you will return
 to the societies of men1 even to their 

parliaments1 enriched with arts of      
prudence beyond the practice of         
,machiavel4 ,examine the dog-rose upon  
the hedge1 how by putting forth thorns  
it raises itself to the light and ranges
 irresistible along the leafy parapets2 
see how the flowers adapt their form and
 colour to the convenience of the bee or
 the predilections of the bird2 consider
 the furze armed with spines against    
browsing muzzles1 and be near when it   
casts its seed wide upon the earth2 and 
then say if among states or governments 
there is a wiser economy or an          
intelligence more provident of its end4 
,i myself have the conceit that if time1
 revoking my sentence of superannuation1
 should restore my lost years and add   
youth to the wisdom learned along the   
hedges1 even ,i1 a very profitless weed1
 should not again so uncivilly decay1   
but flower to another ,june and see my  
seed multiply around me4  ,perhaps1 if  
that might be1 ,i should strive to learn
 thoroughly1 and bring science to bear  

upon experience4 ,but1 as ,i am1        
classifications and dissections are     
repellent to my fancy4 ,i cannot get to 
the hearts of flowers by any ,linnaean  
approach1 but go rather by the old      
animistic way1 still honoured by ,milton
 through his ,genius of the ,woods3     
,when evening gray doth rise ,i fetch my
 round1     ,over the mount and all this
 hallowed ground1     ,and early1 ere   
the breath of odorous morn     ,awakes  
the slumbering leaves4  ,so ,i greet the
 blossoms of hill and upland and        
water-meadow1 knowing them all by their 
country names1 and sometimes fancying   
that they know me back3 all that is     
lacking is the tutelary power to guard  
their growth and prolong their bright   
and fragrant lives4 ,what fine old names
 they have1 great with the blended      
dignities of literary and rural lore2   
archangel1 tormentil1 rosa solis or     
sun-dew1 horehound1 ,saracen's          
wound-wort1 melilot or king's clover1   
pellitory of ,spain6 ,i cannot coldly   

divide so fine a company into bare      
genera and species1 but imagine for them
 high genealogies and alliances by an   
imaginative method of my own3 to me the 
lily and the onion shall never be       
connections4  ,if ,i must read books on 
flowers1 ,i take down such a one as     
,nicholas ,culpeper's ,complete ,herbal1
 written from my house in ,spitalfields 
next the ,red ,lion1 ,september #eth1   
#afec4 ,for here is a man who attempers 
science with the quaintest fancies after
 the manner of his generation1 and      
delightfully misinterprets the real     
affinity of the flowers and the heavens4
 ,he that would know the operation of   
the herbs must look up to the stars     
astrologically1 says this master2 and so
 to him briony is a furious martial     
plant1 and brank ursine an excellent    
plant under the dominion of the moon4   
,of rosemary he says1 the sun claims    
privilege in it1 and it is under the    
celestial ram1 and of viper's bugloss1  
it is a most gallant herb of the sun4   

,the bay-tree rouses him to real        
eloquence1 though not for ,apollo's     
sake4 ,it is a tree of the sun and under
 the celestial sign of ,leo1 and resists
 witchcraft very potently1 as also all  
the evils that old ,saturn can do to the
 body of man2 for neither witch nor     
devil1 thunder nor lightning will hurt a
 man in the place where a bay-tree is4  
,reading in this old book of the        
ordinance and virtues of the familiar   
herbs1 ,i escape from the severities of 
botanical science into a maze of queer  
fancies1 well suited to those           
retrospective hours when we love best   
what we least believe4 ,and by the      
pleasant suggestion of astrology ,i am  
led on to contemplate the starry        
heavens1 which ,i do in the ancient     
pastoral way1 peopling them with        
mythical forms and connecting them with 
the seasonable changes of rustic toil4  
,i forget for the moment all the        
discoveries of ,copernicus and ,kepler1 
and see eye to eye with ,cleostratus of 

,tenedos who nightly watched the stars  
from the sacred slopes of ,ida4  ,much  
as the companionships of nature have    
meant for me1 ,i would not have any man 
content himself with these alone4 ,it is
 not right to live the slave of ,pales1 
or become the rhapsode of docks and     
nettles4 ,to be all for the lower life1 
were it the fairest1 is derogation2 and 
,har and ,heva before they may enter    
into their kingdom of the flowers must  
first be fallen spirits4 ,but           
continually in the interludes of human  
endeavour to rebathe the mind at these  
clear wells does indeed exceedingly     
purify and strengthen against the       
returning and imminent encounter4 ,those
 long retreats at ,walden may not often 
be repeated1 for man is either risen too
 high or too far fallen to live well in 
the sole company of animals and flowers4
 ,what sociologists call the            
consciousness of kind is as vital to man
 as the consciousness of self2 and to   
pine for adoption into an alien kind is 

vain on this side transmigration4  ,not 
seldom my wanderings in town and country
 lead me to quiet churchyards1 or to    
those vast cemeteries where the living  
have established the dead in avenues and
 streets of tombs after their drear     
suburban fashion4 ,solitude has ever    
persuaded to the contemplation of death1
 and in these silent places ,i feel no  
shock of sadness but am rather possessed
 by a familiar spirit of peace4 ,as ,i  
wander from path to path1 my fancy is   
not lamed by mournful thoughts1 but     
finds suggestion amid the poor laconic  
histories by which these headstones     
appeal to him that passes by4  ,it is   
with most men a natural desire to take  
their last rest in some green ,god's    
acre1 far from the smoke and turmoil of 
towns1 lying in a fair space amid a     
small company1 where there is a wide    
prospect of tilled lands1 and the       
reapers cut the swathes against the very
 churchyard wall4 ,and this is my most  
usual aspiration2 yet there are times   

when ,i would not shrink in thought from
 the ,valley of ,ezekiel1 and would be  
content to be written a mere number in  
some city of the dead1 where at last    
after all the loneliness of life ,i     
should no longer be kept apart1 but be  
gathered to my fellows where they lie in
 their thousands1 and be received a     
member of their society4 ,and though ,i 
well know that it matters not a         
cummin-seed whether my bones are washed 
to and fro on the bed of the sea or my  
ashes cast to the winds of heaven1 yet  
,i humour this fancy1 and find a quiet  
pleasure in the thought that death at   
least may end this isolation4  ,and what
 if the propinquity of these poor       
remains be gage and promise of a        
sympathy of souls unveiled and unhidden 
by false semblances of the body8 ,then  
should death indeed be the crown of a   
long desire and give me at the last the 
fellowship into which life denied       
initiation4 ,surely1 as ,coleridge      
dreamed1 there is a sex in souls1 which1

 disengaged from the coarse             
companionship of the flesh1 shall see   
into each other's crystal deeps4        
,thence1 in new life1 when the last     
recondite secret is withholden no       
longer1 there shall come forth those    
qualities and powers that ennobled man  
and woman in mortality2 they shall come 
forth in all their several strength and 
beauty1 divinely animate1 and reflecting
 upon each other bright rays and soft   
colours invisible upon these misty      
oceans of our navigation4  ,it is not   
terrible to think1 at times1 on death1  
for that danse macabre which troubled   
the fancy of our forefathers is now     
danced out1 and the silent figure that  
knocks at every door comes not as a     
grinning skeleton but as one of more    
gentle countenance than any art can     
express4 ,the natural change1 which to  
,william ,blake was but the passing out 
of one room into another1 is well       
personified in the merciful figure with 
the kind eyes1 coming at the sounded    

hour to lead away into quietness4 ,my   
solitude has taught me to know well     
those noble efforts which art has made  
to lift from our bowed backs the burden 
of the fear of death3 ,i like to look   
upon that youthful ,thanatos carved upon
 a column from the temple of the        
,ephesian ,diana1 and every year the red
 leaves of autumn persuade my steps to  
that village rich in elms where lived   
one who also saw death so1 and laboured 
to draw the frightened eyes of men from 
the hour-glass and the skull to the     
gracious vision of the deliverer and    
friend4 ,there hands which were dear to 
him have raised a place of leave-taking 
upon a green slope1 a house of farewell 
set upon the shore to receive the last  
pledges from the living to the absolved 
and unburdened dead4  ,when first ,i saw
 ,compton it was a cloudless noon in    
,august1 the day of days in which to    
come alone into this silent place4 ,out 
of the fiery heat beaten from wall and  
path like a blinding spray of light1 it 

is a passage into a dimness of cool     
space1 an air glaucous as the shade of  
olives4 ,there from the circuit of a    
dome look down kind faces of immortal   
youth1 in form and habit too tranquil   
for our life1 but made homely to us by  
the mercy in their eyes1 and some       
quality of the white soft hands which   
draws all weariness and all pain towards
 them4 ,to me it was as though some     
furious struggle in the waves were over1
 and swooning out of life ,i had        
awakened upon a floor of translucent    
ocean1 where1 in a gracious and tempered
 light1 beings of a compassion too      
intense for earth1 each with a gesture  
that was not yet a touch1 were charming 
all the bruises of the lost battle away4
 ,surely this is true vision of things  
to come1 and to such mercy we shall     
awaken4 ,it cannot be that when the eyes
 reopen they shall see the forms of dark
 apparitors1 or that the ears shall hear
 ,a,eacus and ,rhadamanthys speaking in 
dim halls their cold1 irrevocable dooms4

 ,no1 but there shall be a pause and    
respite upon the way from one to another
 life1 and none may be conceived more   
grateful than this rest1 as it were a   
sojourn beneath waters of ,eunoe1 where 
a flood of dear memories foreboding good
 shall absolve us from the mortal sin of
 fear4         99       99       99     
99       99  ,turning back over these   
pages1 ,i am conscious that ,i have     
failed to give real experiences their   
proper life4 ,describing solitude ,i    
have been dull2 ,i have fixed the       
rushing flames of emotion in poor       
flamboyant lines4 ,i have written far   
more than any reader but yourself will  
have cared to follow2 but now at any    
rate the confession is over1 and in the 
future ,i shall work1 and use my sight  
for a worthier end than introspection4  
,it has been said that the tale of any  
life is interesting if sincerely told2  
and it may be that the most ordinary    
lives have the advantage1 because it is 
the common experience which touches most

 hearts4 ,for the greater part mine has 
been a common life1 unglorified by      
hazards in the field1 or bright         
fulfilment of ambition2 it had been     
better for its peace if it might wholly 
have kept the comfortable1 usual way4   
,i sometimes wonder whether the printing
 of these pages will reveal to me any   
kinsmen in affliction1 for such there   
must be going westward alone1 and ,i    
wish that for a moment we might         
foregather as we pass1 to compare the   
marvels of our isolation4 ,then perhaps 
,i might be urged to higher effort1     
hearing stories more pitiful than mine1 
tales of silent courage under ban of    
excommunion to shame me from the very   
thought of despair4 ,poets have         
metaphorically given colours to souls2  
mine1 ,i feel1 is only grey1 the common 
hue of shadows2 but it was steeped in   
gloom by a veritable pain and evils     
really undergone4 ,and as ,i reflect    
upon what ,i have written1 and try to   
imagine it read by some brisk person    

utterly content with life1 ,i can well  
understand that the whole thing would   
appear to him incredible1 too           
preposterously strange for belief1 a    
rigmarole of sick fancies beyond the    
power of hellebore4 ,so be it3 ,i expect
 small comprehension and no mercy1 for  
indeed ,i have written caring little for
 such consequence1 yielding to that     
human thirst for utterance which only   
confession can slake2 as one eases pain 
by a moan though there are none to hear 
it4 ,it is not altogether a grateful    
task4 ,for hardly1 and then only in a   
fortunate hour1 to one whose years and  
feelings have been interwoven with his  
own1 will even a healthy man tell the   
tale of his hidden emotion2 and mine is 
the deeper reticence of a habit which   
has ever held closely to the recipe of  
fernseed4 ,to entrust a confidence to   
one of unproven sympathy1 is to risk a  
profitless embarrassment4 ,it has been  
most truly said that both parties to    
such impulsive avowals1 whenever they   

afterwards meet1 must feel a constraint 
as of confederacy in misdemeanour4  ,i  
have hope that though ,i came late to   
the steady labour of the vineyard1 ,i   
may yet earn my wage and begin the new  
day with the rest4 ,like ,joseph        
,poorgrass ,i can now almost regard my  
diffidence as an interesting study1 and 
agree with the rustic man of calamities 
that destiny might have made things even
 worse4 ,certainly the pain grows less  
fierce2 ,i can go more readily among my 
fellows for all but social ends4 ,for   
those who live much apart learn at last 
to see men not as individuals but in    
groups3 to them it is the type which    
counts1 the forma specifica per formam  
individualem translucens1 of which the  
scholastic jargon speaks4 ,those with   
whom ,i come in casual contact appear to
 me now in a vague1 diffused light like 
the atmosphere of some other world4     
,dwelling upon none with the eyes of    
intimacy1 and passing swiftly from this 
to that1 ,i find each but the harmless  

variant of a species2 if ,i lingered or 
came too near1 doubtless old            
apprehensions would oppress me still4   
,it is a disadvantage of this outlook   
that the fascination of detail is lost1 
and that ,i have less sense for the     
personal in life4 ,but if ,i grow old ,i
 shall regain the interest in particular
 things and persons with which age is   
consoled amid many miseries2 for while  
youth grows earnest over some riddle of 
high art or the occultation of          
,aldebaran1 age is happily absorbed in  
the arrangement of a room or discussing 
the destinies of a single household4    
,meanwhile1 though uncongenial to my    
kind as entering little into their      
pleasures1 ,i like to be near them in   
their grief or happiness1 standing      
unnoticed in the wind of their fortune's
 wheel4 ,at least ,i am not soured or   
malevolent1 and when there is dancing   
toward1 ,i am in the crowd upon the     
margin of the green4 ,i have abandoned  
social obligations because ,i am        

unfitted to perform them well1 and      
society high and low exists by their    
cheerful fulfilment4 ,but ,i no longer  
rail at social law or decline to see    
anything but evil in conventions devised
 by the wisdom and refinement of        
centuries4 ,if ,i refuse invitations and
 leave calls unpaid1 it is because ,i am
 socially bankrupt3 were ,i solvent ,i  
should redeem all debts4  ,i decline    
therefore to denounce ,chesterfield and 
deify ,thoreau3 there was exaggeration  
in both men1 and though my sympathies   
are rather with the recluse of ,walden  
pond1 it is quite probable that         
,chesterfield was the more useful of the
 two4 ,i am a bad player1 ,i have not   
the high spirits or the conversational  
skill which each should contribute to   
the social game4 ,and in almost any     
sport the incompetent confer a benefit  
by standing out3 at least1 that is the  
opinion which ,i hear the average player
 express4 ,if ,i lived in the backwoods 
where any guest is welcome1 it might be 

my duty to act differently4 ,but my ways
 are cast in places where there is no   
need for social press-gangs1 and the    
highways and hedges are left unsearched4
 ,if therefore by abstention ,i gain a  
qualified peace for myself1 and confer  
positive benefit on others1 ,i may go my
 way without serious reproach4  ,and ,i 
did wisely not to marry1 for ,i should  
have clung too closely to my study for  
the happiness of any woman4 ,i once saw 
an advertisement in the newspaper       
inserted by a discontented young wife   
whose husband was a recluse and would   
not take her out of evenings4 ,she      
wanted to communicate with congenial    
people1 and1 like a desperate sailor    
marooned1 was driven to wave her signal 
in the sight of the casual eye4 ,this   
frank confession of abandonment made a  
profound impression upon me4 ,i thought 
to myself1 ,master recluse1 you are a   
pilferer and have filched a life4 ,i am 
yet more solitary in my estate1 and if  
,i followed your example1 should be     

guilty of a greater wrong4 ,there are1  
indeed1 hours when ,i feel embittered at
 the thought that for one innocent      
defect a whole life should be amerced of
 joy2 the finality of loss appals3 all  
is so irrevocable2 le vase est imbibe1  
l'etoffe a pris son pli4 ,avoided not   
without cause by those who were my      
natural associates1 ,i grow impenetrable
 of access1 and even in my own family   
unfamiliar4 ,the resentment that welled 
up in the man who told the story of     
,henry ,ryecroft obtains the mastery1   
and ,i feel one in spirit with that     
lonely analyst of disillusions4         
,sometimes a worse darkness gathers     
round1 till ,i long for one of those    
intense and all-absorbing creeds which  
somehow seem to tend the brightest      
hearth-fires which earth knows3 for     
philosophy1 though it invented the void1
 never built a little ,gidding4  ,it is 
then that ,i feel like the suppliant of 
the old ,babylonian prayer1 one whose   
kin are afar off1 whose city is distant1

 and all that appears before my sight is
 one scroll of wrongs which this evil   
heritage has inflicted upon me4 ,it has 
made my best years rich in misery2 it   
has cut me off from marriage2 it has    
compelled me1 one hating vain complaint1
 to live querulously in the optative    
mood4 ,neither poverty nor sickness     
could chastise more heavily2 for poverty
 is strong in numbers and sickness rich 
in sympathy1 but diffidence reaps       
laughter and is alone4 ,when such       
thoughts win dominion over the mind ,i  
could envy what sufferer you will his   
most awful punishment4 ,for in his agony
 be sure there is movement and action2  
his limbs are torn1 yet he is dragged   
onward3 by his very writhing in the     
bonds he confesses his life4 ,but ,i lie
 in some dead waste where nothing moves 
and all is mist without horizon1 lost in
 an abhorred blankness of dismay to     
which no positive suffering may be      
likened4 ,thither comes no fierce       
provocation to quicken into ,promethean 

scorn2 life lies whelmed in blackness   
unlit by flashes of defiance or the cold
 splendour of disdain4  ,empedocles once
 described his dream of retribution for 
the last unutterable offence4 ,for      
thrice ten thousand years the sinner    
roams estranged from bliss1 taking all  
mortal shapes1 wearing with tired feet  
all the sad ways of life4 ,a,ether      
sweeps him out to ,ocean1 ,ocean casts  
him naked on the shores of ,earth1      
,earth hurls him upward to the flames of
 ,helios1 and he1 relentless1 spurns the
 victim back to ,a,ether1 that the dread
 cycle may begin anew4 ,but to be for   
ever driven in this majestic whirl of   
change1 to receive the chastisement of  
all elements and survive unbroken for a 
new revolution of the wheel1 this is but
 an assurance of the very pride of life1
 it is the charter of an invincible     
manhood4 ,the doom which in truth befits
 the unutterable sin is rather the blank
 pain without accident or period1       
without point or salience to draw from  

stunned nature her last energies of     
resentment4 ,it is well for me that this
 misery is short-lived1 and that either 
by thinking on that ideal love ,i know  
the miracle of the twenty-ninth sonnet1 
or1 struggling with instant effort out  
of the toils1 try to see myself as ,i   
appear to others1 one who should scorn  
to sit in thirst when there are wells   
yet for the seeking4  ,it is a strange  
life to lead in this pleasureful world2 
and if when it is over ,i were condemned
 to live again1 coming like ,er the     
,armenian to that meadow where the lots 
are thrown down for each to choose his  
own1 ,i am already decided what         
character ,i should elect to play4 ,i   
should neither cast myself for a        
protagonist's part nor again for that of
 a dumb actor in those backgrounds ,i   
know too well2 but just for a plain     
manly character1 strong to face all     
fortunes and rich in troops of friends4 
,there should be no more evasion or     
dreary wrestling of mind with body2 but 

life should move to a restrained        
harmony1 and no elusive wind should     
carry half the music away4  ,as for what
 remains of this present dispensation1  
,i shall know how to endure1 trusting   
that the years may fade finely1 like the
 figures in an old tapestry1 and that   
the end may come to me as to the old    
gentleman in ,hans ,christian           
,andersen's story of the ,old ,house4   
,and ,i have this advantage over other  
men1 that while they have the whole     
cornucopia to lose1 ,i can but be       
deprived of the dregs in its pointed    
end4 ,for in what can there be further  
punishment8 ,on others1 men of happy    
pasts1 dismay may fall as the ways are  
darkened before them4 ,but surely ,i    
shall be of good cheer as ,i come into  
the land of the fierce old robber ,age2 
for1 stripped long since by a more      
subtle and insatiate despoiler1 ,i shall
 possess nothing of worth to draw his   
covetousness upon me4 ,so many joys did 
my very youth renounce2 so many         

pleasures the ,harpies swept from my    
place at the spread board of life2 such 
gags and fetters held me while others   
danced and sang1 that ,i was the sad    
familiar of evil fortune before my      
companions were acquainted with her     
name4 ,that leaden weight which brings  
others low1 by a nice adjustment of the 
scales shall raise me for the first time
 to their equality4 ,and then1 as one   
experienced in bereavements1 of         
themselves they may seek my company2 and
 ,i1 so long the useless and estranged1 
may become at the close their helpful   
counsellor4  ,if only that might be2 if 
only upon the verge of night ,i might   
redeem by usefulness my lost            
unserviceable day4 ,then this grey life1
 so long sole and intrinsical to itself1
 should glow at last with some          
reflection of the sunset2 once more ,i  
should know young ardours imagined lost 
and devotions miraculously born again4  
,you will still encounter me now and    
then1 moving absently through the crowd1

 or wandering in some green place1 as in
 the garden of the ,luxembourg          
,vauvenargues used to meet the wounded  
of the great battle1 keeping apart in   
the narrower walks1 and leaving the     
broad central ways for lighter feet than
 theirs4 ,he often longed to have speech
 with them2 but always they turned away1
 with the proud self-sufficiency of the 
disillusioned4 ,perhaps if he had       
succeeded he would have found that to   
some of them life had its consolations  
not unlike mine1 and that they could    
still regard it as something more than a
 friendly process of detachment4 ,but it
 is not our habit to expand2 we are ever
 held back by the occult pride which the
 same soldier-philosopher has assigned  
to one of his imaginary characters1     
cette fierte tendre d'une ame timide1   
qui ne veut avouer ni sa defaite1 ni ses
 esperances1 ni la vanite de ses voeux4