,transcriber's note3 ,a few typographical errors have been corrected3 they are listed at the end of the text4 ,some section headings were originally constructed as side-notes4 ,they were placed here at the head of their respective paragraphs1 and moved to paragraph's start where given at paragraph's middle4 ,see ,,html version for the original headers placement4 ,bold passages are enclosed by the '' sign4 ,illustration3 ,,the ,,kapellbr,,cke1 ,,lucerne ,,from ,a ,,drawing ,,by ,,ruskin ,library ,edition ,,the ,,complete ,,works ,,of ,,john ,,ruskin ,,modern ,,painters ,,volume ,,iv--,,of ,,mountain ,,beauty _/,,of ,,leaf ,,beauty ,,volume ,v ,,of ,,cloud ,,beauty ,,of ,,ideas ,,of ,,relation ,,national ,,library ,,association ,,new ,,york ,,chicago ,,modern ,,painters4 ,,volume ,,iv41 ,,containing ,,part ,v41 ,,of ,,mountain ,,beauty4 ,illustration3 ,the ,gates of the ,hills4 ,,preface4 ,i was in hopes that this volume might have gone its way without preface2 but as ,i look over the sheets1 ,i find in them various fallings short of old purposes which require a word of explanation4 ,of which shortcomings1 the chief is the want of reference to the landscape of the ,poussins and ,salvator2 my original intention having been to give various examples of their mountain-drawing1 that it might be compared with ,turner's4 ,but the ten years intervening between the commencement of this work and its continuation have taught me1 among other things1 that ,life is shorter and less availably divisible than ,i had supposed3 and ,i think now that its hours may be better employed than in making facsimiles of bad work4 ,it would have required the greatest care1 and prolonged labor1 to give uncaricatured representations of ,salvator's painting1 or of any other work depending on the free dashes of the brush1 so as neither to mend nor mar it4 ,perhaps in the next volume ,i may give one or two examples associated with vegetation2 but in general1 ,i shall be content with directing the reader's attention to the facts in nature1 and in ,turner2 leaving him to carry out for himself whatever comparisons he may judge expedient4 ,i am afraid1 also1 that disappointment may be felt at not finding plates of more complete subject illustrating these chapters on mountain beauty4 ,but the analysis into which ,i had to enter required the dissection of drawings1 rather than their complete presentation2 while1 also1 on the scale of any readable page1 no effective presentation of large drawings could be given4 ,even my vignette1 the frontispiece to the third volume1 is partly spoiled by having too little white paper about it2 and the fiftieth plate1 from ,turner's ,goldau1 necessarily omits1 owing to its reduction1 half the refinements of the foreground4 ,it is quite waste of time and cost to reduce ,turner's drawings at all2 and ,i therefore consider these volumes only as ,guides to them1 hoping hereafter to illustrate some of the best on their own scale4 ,several of the plates appear1 in their present position1 nearly unnecessary2 #ad and #ae1 for instance1 in ,vol4 ,,iii4 ,these are illustrations of the chapters on the ,firmament in the fifth volume2 but ,i should have had the plates disproportionately crowded at last1 if ,i had put all that it needed in that volume2 and as these two bear somewhat on various matters spoken of in the third1 ,i placed them where they are first alluded to4 ,the frontispiece has chief reference to the same chapters2 but seemed1 in its three divisions1 properly introductory to our whole subject4 ,it is a simple sketch from nature1 taken at sunset from the hills near ,como1 some two miles up the eastern side of the lake and about a thousand feet above it1 looking towards ,lugano4 ,the sky is a little too heavy for the advantage of the landscape below2 but ,i am not answerable for the sky4 ,it was there4,a ,in the multitudinous letterings and references of this volume there may possibly be one or two awkward errata2 but not so many as to make it necessary to delay the volume while ,i look it over again in search of them4 ,the reader will perhaps be kind enough to note at once that in page #ahb1 at the first line of the text1 the words general truth refer to the angle-measurements1 not to the diagrams2 which latter are given merely for reference1 and might cause some embarrassment if the statement of measured accuracy were supposed to refer to them4 ,one or two graver misapprehensions ,i had it in my mind to warn the reader against2 but on the whole1 as ,i have honestly tried to make the book intelligible1 ,i believe it will be found intelligible by any one who thinks it worth a careful reading2 and every day convinces me more and more that no warnings can preserve from misunderstanding those who have no desire to understand4 ,denmark ,hill1 ,march1 #ahef4 ,,footnotes ,a ,persons unacquainted with hill scenery are apt to forget that the sky of the mountains is often close to the spectator4 ,a black thundercloud may literally be dashing itself in his face1 while the blue hills seen through its rents maybe thirty miles away4 ,generally speaking1 we do not enough understand the nearness of many clouds1 even in level countries1 as compared with the land horizon4 ,see also the close of #ab in ,chap4 ,,iii of this volume4 ,,table ,,of ,,contents4 ,,part ,v4 ,,of ,,mountain ,,beauty4 ,,page ,,chapter ,i4--,of the ,turnerian ,picturesque4 #a ,,ii4--,of ,turnerian ,topography4 #af ,,iii4--,of ,turnerian ,light4 #cd ,,iv4--,of ,turnerian ,mystery3 ,first1 as ,essential4 #ef ,v4--,of ,turnerian ,mystery3 ,secondly1 ,wilful4 #fh ,,vi4--,the ,firmament4 #hb ,,vii4--,the ,dry ,land4 #hi ,,viii4--,of the ,materials of ,mountains3 ,first1 ,compact ,crystallines4 #ii ,,ix4--,of the ,materials of ,mountains3 ,secondly1 ,slaty ,crystallines4 #aac ,x4--,of the ,materials of ,mountains3 ,thirdly1 ,slaty ,coherents4 #abb ,,xi4--,of the ,materials of ,mountains3 ,fourthly1 ,compact ,coherents4 #abg ,,xii4--,of the ,sculpture of ,mountains3 ,first1 the ,lateral ,ranges4 #acg ,,xiii4--,of the ,sculpture of ,mountains3 ,secondly1 the ,central ,peaks4 #aeg ,,xiv4--,resulting ,forms3 ,first1 ,aiguilles4 #agc ,,xv4--,resulting ,forms3 ,second1 ,crests4 #aie ,,xvi4--,resulting ,forms3 ,third1 ,precipices4 #bbh ,,xvii4--,resulting ,forms3 ,fourthly1 ,banks4 #bfb ,,xviii4--,resulting ,forms3 ,fifthly1 ,stones4 #cja ,,xix4--,the ,mountain ,gloom4 #cag ,,xx4--,the ,mountain ,glory4 #cdd ,,appendix4 ,i4 ,modern ,grotesque4 #che ,,ii4 ,rock ,cleavage4 #cia ,,iii4 ,logical ,education4 #cii ,,list ,,of ,,plates ,,to ,,vol4 ,,iv4 ,drawn by ,engraved by ,frontispiece4 ,the ,gates of the ,hills ,j4 ,m4 ,w4 ,turner ,j4 ,,cousen ,plate ,facing page #ah4 ,the ,transition from ,ghirlandajo and ,ghirlandajo to ,claude ,claude ,j4 ,h4 ,,le ,,keux #a #ai4 ,the ,picturesque of ,stanfield and ,windmills ,turner ,j4 ,h4 ,,le ,,keux #g #bj4 ,the ,pass of ,fado4 #a4 ,simple ,topography ,the ,author ,,the ,,author #bb #ba4 ,the ,pass of ,fado #b4 ,turnerian ,topography ,j4 ,m4 ,w4 ,turner ,,the ,,author #bd #bb4 ,turner's ,earliest ,nottingham ,j4 ,m4 ,w4 ,turner ,t4 ,,boys #bi #bc4 ,turner's ,latest ,nottingham ,j4 ,m4 ,w4 ,turner ,t4 ,,boys #cj #bd4 ,the ,towers of ,fribourg ,the ,author ,j4 ,c4 ,,armytage #cb #be4 ,things in ,general ,the ,author ,j4 ,h4 ,,le ,,keux #cb #bf4 ,the ,law of ,evanescence ,the ,author ,r4 ,p4 ,,cuff #ga #bg4 ,the ,aspen under ,idealization ,turner1 etc4 ,j4 ,,cousen #gf #bh4 ,the ,aspen ,unidealized ,the ,author ,j4 ,c4 ,,armytage #gg #bi4 ,aiguille ,structure ,the ,author ,j4 ,c4 ,,armytage #afj #cj4 ,the ,ideal of ,aiguilles ,the ,author1 etc4 ,r4 ,p4 ,,cuff #agg #ca4 ,the ,aiguille ,blaitire ,the ,author ,j4 ,c4 ,,armytage #ahe #cb4 ,aiguille-drawing ,turner1 etc4 ,j4 ,h4 ,,le ,,keux #aia #cc4 ,contours of ,aiguille ,bouchard ,the ,author ,r4 ,p4 ,,cuff #bjd #cd4 ,cleavage of ,aiguille ,bouchard ,the ,author ,,the ,,author #baa #ce4 ,crests of ,la ,cte and ,taconay ,the ,author ,,the ,,author #bab #cf4 ,crest of ,la ,cte ,the ,author ,t4 ,,lupton #bac #cg4 ,crests of the ,slaty ,crystallines ,j4 ,m4 ,w4 ,turner ,,the ,,author #bbb #ch4 ,the ,cervin1 from the ,east and ,north-east ,the ,author ,j4 ,c4 ,,armytage #bcc #ci4 ,the ,cervin from the ,north-west ,the ,author ,j4 ,c4 ,,armytage #bch #dj4 ,the ,mountains of ,villeneuve ,the ,author ,j4 ,h4 ,,le ,,keux #bdf #ab4 ,a4 ,the ,shores of ,wharfe ,j4 ,m4 ,w4 ,turner ,,thos4 ,,lupton #bea #da4 ,the ,rocks of ,arona ,the ,author ,j4 ,h4 ,,le ,,keux #bee #db4 ,leaf ,curvature ,magnolia and ,laburnum ,the ,author ,r4 ,p4 ,,cuff #bfi #dc4 ,leaf ,curvature ,dead ,laurel ,the ,author ,r4 ,p4 ,,cuff #bfi #dd4 ,leaf ,curvature ,young ,ivy ,the ,author ,r4 ,p4 ,,cuff #bfi #de4 ,dbris ,curvature ,the ,author ,r4 ,p4 ,,cuff #bhe #df4 ,the ,buttresses of an ,alp ,the ,author ,j4 ,h4 ,,le ,,keux #bhf #dg4 ,the ,quarry of ,carrara ,the ,author ,j4 ,h4 ,,le ,,keux #bii #dh4 ,bank of ,slaty ,crystallines ,daguerreotype ,j4 ,c4 ,,armytage #cjd #di4 ,truth and ,untruth of ,stones ,turner and ,claude ,,thos4 ,,lupton #cjh #ej4 ,goldau ,j4 ,m4 ,w4 ,turner ,j4 ,,cousen #cab ,illustration3 #ah4 ,the ,transition from ,ghirlandajo to ,claude4 ,,part ,v4 ,,of ,,mountain ,,beauty4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,of ,,the ,,turnerian ,,picturesque4 #a4 ,,the work which we proposed to ourselves1 towards the close of the last volume1 as first to be undertaken in this1 was the examination of those peculiarities of system in which ,turner either stood alone1 even in the modern school1 or was a distinguished representative of modern1 as opposed to ancient practice4 ,and the most interesting of these subjects of inquiry1 with which1 therefore1 it may be best to begin1 is the precise form under which he has admitted into his work the modern feeling of the picturesque1 which1 so far as it consists in a delight in ruin1 is perhaps the most suspicious and questionable of all the characters distinctively belonging to our temper1 and art4 ,it is especially so1 because it never appears1 even in the slightest measure1 until the days of the decline of art in the seventeenth century4 ,the love of neatness and precision1 as opposed to all disorder1 maintains itself down to ,raphael's childhood without the slightest interference of any other feeling2 and it is not until ,claude's time1 and owing in great part to his influence1 that the new feeling distinctly establishes itself4 ,plate #ah shows the kind of modification which ,claude used to make on the towers and backgrounds of ,ghirlandajo2 the old ,florentine giving his idea of ,pisa1 with its leaning tower1 with the utmost neatness and precision1 and handsome youth riding over neat bridges on beautiful horses2 ,claude reducing the delicate towers and walls to unintelligible ruin1 the well built bridge to a rugged stone one1 the handsome rider to a weary traveller1 and the perfectly drawn leafage to confusion of copse-wood or forest4#a ,how far he was right in doing this2 or how far the moderns are right in carrying the principle to greater excess1 and seeking always for poverty-stricken rusticity or pensive ruin1 we must now endeavor to ascertain4 ,the essence of picturesque character has been already defined#b to be a sublimity not inherent in the nature of the thing1 but caused by something external to it2 as the ruggedness of a cottage roof possesses something of a mountain aspect1 not belonging to the cottage as such4 ,and this sublimity may be either in mere external ruggedness1 and other visible character1 or it may lie deeper1 in an expression of sorrow and old age1 attributes which are both sublime2 not a dominant expression1 but one mingled with such familiar and common characters as prevent the object from becoming perfectly pathetic in its sorrow1 or perfectly venerable in its age4 #b4 ,for instance1 ,i cannot find words to express the intense pleasure ,i have always in first finding myself1 after some prolonged stay in ,england1 at the foot of the old tower of ,calais church4 ,the large neglect1 the noble unsightliness of it2 the record of its years written so visibly1 yet without sign of weakness or decay2 its stern wasteness and gloom1 eaten away by the ,channel winds1 and overgrown with the bitter sea grasses2 its slates and tiles all shaken and rent1 and yet not falling2 its desert of brickwork full of bolts1 and holes1 and ugly fissures1 and yet strong1 like a bare brown rock2 its carelessness of what any one thinks or feels about it1 putting forth no claim1 having no beauty nor desirableness1 pride nor grace2 yet neither asking for pity2 not1 as ruins are1 useless and piteous1 feebly or fondly garrulous of better days2 but useful still1 going through its own daily work1--as some old fisherman beaten grey by storm1 yet drawing his daily nets3 so it stands1 with no complaint about its past youth1 in blanched and meagre massiveness and serviceableness1 gathering human souls together underneath it2 the sound of its bells for prayer still rolling through its rents2 and the grey peak of it seen far across the sea1 principal of the three that rise above the waste of surfy sand and hillocked shore1--the lighthouse for life1 and the belfry for labor1 and this for patience and praise4 #c4 ,i cannot tell the half of the strange pleasures and thoughts that come about me at the sight of that old tower2 for1 in some sort1 it is the epitome of all that makes the ,continent of ,europe interesting1 as opposed to new countries2 and1 above all1 it completely expresses that agedness in the midst of active life which binds the old and the new into harmony4 ,we1 in ,england1 have our new street1 our new inn1 our green shaven lawn1 and our piece of ruin emergent from it1--a mere specimen of the middle ages put on a bit of velvet carpet to be shown1 which1 but for its size1 might as well be on the museum shelf at once1 under cover4 ,but1 on the ,continent1 the links are unbroken between the past and present1 and in such use as they can serve for1 the grey-headed wrecks are suffered to stay with men2 while1 in unbroken line1 the generations of spared buildings are seen succeeding each in its place4 ,and thus in its largeness1 in its permitted evidence of slow decline1 in its poverty1 in its absence of all pretence1 of all show and care for outside aspect1 that ,calais tower has an infinite of symbolism in it1 all the more striking because usually seen in contrast with ,english scenes expressive of feelings the exact reverse of these4 #d4 ,and ,i am sorry to say that the opposition is most distinct in that noble carelessness as to what people think of it4 ,once1 on coming from the ,continent1 almost the first inscription ,i saw in my native ,english was this3 ,,to ,,let1 ,a ,,genteel ,,house1 ,,up ,,this ,,road4 ,and it struck me forcibly1 for ,i had not come across the idea of gentility1 among the upper limestones of the ,alps1 for seven months2 nor do ,i think that the ,continental nations in general have the idea4 ,they would have advertised a pretty house or a large one1 or a convenient one2 but they could not1 by any use of the terms afforded by their several languages1 have got at the ,english genteel4 ,consider1 a little1 all the meanness that there is in that epithet1 and then see1 when next you cross the ,channel1 how scornful of it that ,calais spire will look4 #e4 ,of which spire the largeness and age are also opposed exactly to the chief appearances of modern ,england1 as one feels them on first returning to it2 that marvellous smallness both of houses and scenery1 so that a ploughman in the valley has his head on a level with the tops of all the hills in the neighborhood2 and a house is organized into complete establishment1--parlor1 kitchen1 and all1 with a knocker to its door1 and a garret window to its roof1 and a bow to its second story1#c on a scale of twelve feet wide by fifteen high1 so that three such at least would go into the granary of an ordinary ,swiss cottage3 and also our serenity of perfection1 our peace of conceit1 everything being done that vulgar minds can conceive as wanting to be done2 the spirit of well-principled housemaids everywhere1 exerting itself for perpetual propriety and renovation1 so that nothing is old1 but only old-fashioned1 and contemporary1 as it were1 in date and impressiveness only with last year's bonnets4 ,abroad1 a building of the eighth or tenth century stands ruinous in the open street2 the children play round it1 the peasants heap their corn in it1 the buildings of yesterday nestle about it1 and fit their new stones into its rents1 and tremble in sympathy as it trembles4 ,no one wonders at it1 or thinks of it as separate1 and of another time2 we feel the ancient world to be a real thing1 and one with the new3 antiquity is no dream2 it is rather the children playing about the old stones that are the dream4 ,but all is continuous2 and the words1 from generation to generation1 understandable there4 ,whereas here we have a living present1 consisting merely of what is fashionable and old-fashioned2 and a past1 of which there are no vestiges2 a past which peasant or citizen can no more conceive2 all equally far away2 ,queen ,elizabeth as old as ,queen ,boadicea1 and both incredible4 ,at ,verona we look out of ,can ,grande's window to his tomb2 and if he does not stand beside us1 we feel only that he is in the grave instead of the chamber1--not that he is old1 but that he might have been beside us last night4 ,but in ,england the dead are dead to purpose4 ,one cannot believe they ever were alive1 or anything else than what they are now--names in school-books4 #f4 ,then that spirit of trimness4 ,the smooth paving-stones2 the scraped1 hard1 even1 rutless roads2 the neat gates and plates1 and essence of border and order1 and spikiness and spruceness4 ,abroad1 a country-house has some confession of human weakness and human fates about it4 ,there are the old grand gates still1 which the mob pressed sore against at the ,revolution1 and the strained hinges have never gone so well since2 and the broken greyhound on the pillar--still broken--better so2 but the long avenue is gracefully pale with fresh green1 and the courtyard bright with orange-trees2 the garden is a little run to waste--since ,mademoiselle was married nobody cares much about it2 and one range of apartments is shut up--nobody goes into them since ,madame died4 ,but with us1 let who will be married or die1 we neglect nothing4 ,all is polished and precise again next morning2 and whether people are happy or miserable1 poor or prosperous1 still we sweep the stairs of a ,saturday4#d #g4 ,now1 ,i have insisted long on this ,english character1 because ,i want the reader to understand thoroughly the opposite element of the noble picturesque2 its expression1 namely1 of suffering1 of poverty1 or decay1 nobly endured by unpretending strength of heart4 ,nor only unpretending1 but unconscious4 ,if there be visible pensiveness in the building1 as in a ruined abbey1 it becomes1 or claims to become1 beautiful2 but the picturesqueness is in the unconscious suffering1--the look that an old laborer has1 not knowing that there is anything pathetic in his grey hair1 and withered arms1 and sunburnt breast2 and thus there are the two extremes1 the consciousness of pathos in the confessed ruin1 which may or may not be beautiful1 according to the kind of it2 and the entire denial of all human calamity and care1 in the swept proprieties and neatness of ,english modernism3 and1 between these1 there is the unconscious confession of the facts of distress and decay1 in by-words2 the world's hard work being gone through all the while1 and no pity asked for1 nor contempt feared4 ,and this is the expression of that ,calais spire1 and of all picturesque things1 in so far as they have mental or human expression at all4 #h4 ,i say1 in so far as they have mental expression1 because their merely outward delightfulness--that which makes them pleasant in painting1 or1 in the literal sense1 picturesque--is their actual variety of color and form4 ,a broken stone has necessarily more various forms in it than a whole one2 a bent roof has more various curves in it than a straight one2 every excrescence or cleft involves some additional complexity of light and shade1 and every stain of moss on eaves or wall adds to the delightfulness of color4 ,hence1 in a completely picturesque object1 as an old cottage or mill1 there are introduced1 by various circumstances not essential to it1 but1 on the whole1 generally somewhat detrimental to it as cottage or mill1 such elements of sublimity--complex light and shade1 varied color1 undulatory form1 and so on--as can generally be found only in noble natural objects1 woods1 rocks1 or mountains4 ,this sublimity1 belonging in a parasitical manner to the building1 renders it1 in the usual sense of the word1 picturesque4 ,illustration3 #ai4 ,the ,picturesque of ,windmills4 #a4 ,pure ,modern4 #b4 ,turnerian4 #i4 ,now1 if this outward sublimity be sought for by the painter1 without any regard for the real nature of the thing1 and without any comprehension of the pathos of character hidden beneath1 it forms the low school of the surface-picturesque2 that which fills ordinary drawing-books and scrap-books1 and employs1 perhaps1 the most popular living landscape painters of ,france1 ,england1 and ,germany4 ,but if these same outward characters be sought for in subordination to the inner character of the object1 every source of pleasurableness being refused which is incompatible with that1 while perfect sympathy is felt at the same time with the object as to all that it tells of itself in those sorrowful by-words1 we have the school of true or noble picturesque2 still distinguished from the school of pure beauty and sublimity1 because1 in its subjects1 the pathos and sublimity are all by the way1 as in ,calais old spire1--not inherent1 as in a lovely tree or mountain2 while it is distinguished still more from the schools of the lower picturesque by its tender sympathy1 and its refusal of all sources of pleasure inconsistent with the perfect nature of the thing to be studied4 #aj4 ,the reader will only be convinced of the broad scope of this law by careful thought1 and comparison of picture with picture2 but a single example will make the principle of it clear to him4 ,on the whole1 the first master of the lower picturesque1 among our living artists1 is ,clarkson ,stanfield2 his range of art being1 indeed1 limited by his pursuit of this character4 ,i take1 therefore1 a windmill1 forming the principal subject in his drawing of ,brittany1 near ,dol 7engraved in the ,coast ,scenery71 ,fig4 #a1 ,plate #ai1 and beside it ,i place a windmill1 which forms also the principal subject in ,turner's study of the ,lock1 in the ,liber ,studiorum4 ,at first sight ,i dare say the reader may like ,stanfield's best2 and there is1 indeed1 a great deal more in it to attract liking4 ,its roof is nearly as interesting in its ruggedness as a piece of the stony peak of a mountain1 with a chlet built on its side2 and it is exquisitely varied in swell and curve4 ,turner's roof1 on the contrary1 is a plain1 ugly gable1--a windmill roof1 and nothing more4 ,stanfield's sails are twisted into most effective wrecks1 as beautiful as pine bridges over ,alpine streams2 only they do not look as if they had ever been serviceable windmill sails2 they are bent about in cross and awkward ways1 as if they were warped or cramped2 and their timbers look heavier than necessary4 ,turner's sails have no beauty about them like that of ,alpine bridges2 but they have the exact switchy sway of the sail that is always straining against the wind2 and the timbers form clearly the lightest possible framework for the canvas1--thus showing the essence of windmill sail4 ,then the clay wall of ,stanfield's mill is as beautiful as a piece of chalk cliff1 all worn into furrows by the rain1 coated with mosses1 and rooted to the ground by a heap of crumbled stone1 embroidered with grass and creeping plants4 ,but this is not a serviceable state for a windmill to be in4 ,the essence of a windmill1 as distinguished from all other mills1 is1 that it should turn round1 and be a spinning thing1 ready always to face the wind2 as light1 therefore1 as possible1 and as vibratory2 so that it is in no wise good for it to approximate itself to the nature of chalk cliffs4 ,now observe how completely ,turner has chosen his mill so as to mark this great fact of windmill nature2 how high he has set it2 how slenderly he has supported it2 how he has built it all of wood2 how he has bent the lower planks so as to give the idea of the building lapping over the pivot on which it rests inside2 and how1 finally1 he has insisted on the great leverage of the beam behind it1 while ,stanfield's lever looks more like a prop than a thing to turn the roof with4 ,and he has done all this fearlessly1 though none of these elements of form are pleasant ones in themselves1 but tend1 on the whole1 to give a somewhat mean and spider-like look to the principal feature in his picture2 and then1 finally1 because he could not get the windmill dissected1 and show us the real heart and centre of the whole1 behold1 he has put a pair of old millstones1 lying outside1 at the bottom of it4 ,these--the first cause and motive of all the fabric--laid at its foundation2 and beside them the cart which is to fulfil the end of the fabric's being1 and take home the sacks of flour4 #aa4 ,so far of what each painter chooses to draw4 ,but do not fail also to consider the spirit in which it is drawn4 ,observe1 that though all this ruin has befallen ,stanfield's mill1 ,stanfield is not in the least sorry for it4 ,on the contrary1 he is delighted1 and evidently thinks it the most fortunate thing possible4 ,the owner is ruined1 doubtless1 or dead2 but his mill forms an admirable object in our view of ,brittany4 ,so far from being grieved about it1 we will make it our principal light2--if it were a fruit-tree in spring-blossom1 instead of a desolate mill1 we could not make it whiter or brighter2 we illume our whole picture with it1 and exult over its every rent as a special treasure and possession4 ,not so ,turner4 ,his mill is still serviceable2 but1 for all that1 he feels somewhat pensive about it4 ,it is a poor property1 and evidently the owner of it has enough to do to get his own bread out from between its stones4 ,moreover1 there is a dim type of all melancholy human labor in it1--catching the free winds1 and setting them to turn grindstones4 ,it is poor work for the winds2 better1 indeed1 than drowning sailors or tearing down forests1 but not their proper work of marshalling the clouds1 and bearing the wholesome rains to the place where they are ordered to fall1 and fanning the flowers and leaves when they are faint with heat4 ,turning round a couple of stones1 for the mere pulverization of human food1 is not noble work for the winds4 ,so1 also1 of all low labor to which one sets human souls4 ,it is better than no labor2 and1 in a still higher degree1 better than destructive wandering of imagination2 but yet1 that grinding in the darkness1 for mere food's sake1 must be melancholy work enough for many a living creature4 ,all men have felt it so2 and this grinding at the mill1 whether it be breeze or soul that is set to it1 we cannot much rejoice in4 ,turner has no joy of his mill4 ,it shall be dark against the sky1 yet proud1 and on the hill-top2 not ashamed of its labor1 and brightened from beyond1 the golden clouds stooping over it1 and the calm summer sun going down behind1 far away1 to his rest4 #ab4 ,now in all this observe how the higher condition of art 7for ,i suppose the reader will feel1 with me1 that ,turner's is the highest7 depends upon largeness of sympathy4 ,it is mainly because the one painter has communion of heart with his subject1 and the other only casts his eyes upon it feelinglessly1 that the work of the one is greater than that of the other4 ,and1 as we think farther over the matter1 we shall see that this is indeed the eminent cause of the difference between the lower picturesque and the higher4 ,for1 in a certain sense1 the lower picturesque ideal is eminently a heartless one3 the lover of it seems to go forth into the world in a temper as merciless as its rocks4 ,all other men feel some regret at the sight of disorder and ruin4 ,he alone delights in both2 it matters not of what4 ,fallen cottage--desolate villa--deserted village--blasted heath--mouldering castle--to him1 so that they do but show jagged angles of stone and timber1 all are sights equally joyful4 ,poverty1 and darkness1 and guilt1 bring in their several contributions to his treasury of pleasant thoughts4 ,the shattered window1 opening into black and ghastly rents of wall1 the foul rag or straw wisp stopping them1 the dangerous roof1 decrepit floor and stair1 ragged misery or wasting age of the inhabitants1--all these conduce1 each in due measure1 to the fulness of his satisfaction4 ,what is it to him that the old man has passed his seventy years in helpless darkness and untaught waste of soul8 ,the old man has at last accomplished his destiny1 and filled the corner of a sketch1 where something of an unshapely nature was wanting4 ,what is it to him that the people fester in that feverish misery in the low quarter of the town1 by the river8 ,nay1 it is much to him4 ,what else were they made for8 what could they have done better8 ,the black timbers1 and the green water1 and the soaking wrecks of boats1 and the torn remnants of clothes hung out to dry in the sun2--truly the fever-struck creatures1 whose lives have been given for the production of these materials of effect1 have not died in vain4#e #ac4 ,yet1 for all this1 ,i do not say the lover of the lower picturesque is a monster in human form4 ,he is by no means this1 though truly we might at first think so1 if we came across him unawares1 and had not met with any such sort of person before4 ,generally speaking1 he is kind-hearted1 innocent of evil1 but not broad in thought2 somewhat selfish1 and incapable of acute sympathy with others2 gifted at the same time with strong artistic instincts and capacities for the enjoyment of varied form1 and light1 and shade1 in pursuit of which enjoyment his life is passed1 as the lives of other men are1 for the most part1 in the pursuit of what they also like1--be it honor1 or money1 or indolent pleasure1--very irrespective of the poor people living by the stagnant canal4 ,and1 in some sort1 the hunter of the picturesque is better than many of these2 inasmuch as he is simple-minded and capable of unostentatious and economical delights1 which1 if not very helpful to other people1 are at all events utterly uninjurious1 even to the victims or subjects of his picturesque fancies2 while to many others his work is entertaining and useful4 ,and1 more than all this1 even that delight which he seems to take in misery is not altogether unvirtuous4 ,through all his enjoyment there runs a certain under current of tragical passion1--a real vein of human sympathy2--it lies at the root of all those strange morbid hauntings of his2 a sad excitement1 such as other people feel at a tragedy1 only less in degree1 just enough1 indeed1 to give a deeper tone to his pleasure1 and to make him choose for his subject the broken stones of a cottage wall1 rather than of a roadside bank1 the picturesque beauty of form in each being supposed precisely the same3 and1 together with this slight tragical feeling1 there is also a humble and romantic sympathy2 a vague desire1 in his own mind1 to live in cottages rather than in palaces2 a joy in humble things1 a contentment and delight in makeshifts1 a secret persuasion 7in many respects a true one7 that there is in these ruined cottages a happiness often quite as great as in kings' palaces1 and a virtue and nearness to ,god infinitely greater and holier than can commonly be found in any other kind of place2 so that the misery in which he exults is not1 as he sees it1 misery1 but nobleness1--poor1 and sick in body1 and beloved by the ,gods4#f ,and thus1 being nowise sure that these things can be mended at all1 and very sure that he knows not how to mend them1 and also that the strange pleasure he feels in them must have some good reason in the nature of things1 he yields to his destiny1 enjoys his dark canal without scruple1 and mourns over every improvement in the town1 and every movement made by its sanitary commissioners1 as a miser would over a planned robbery of his chest2 in all this being not only innocent1 but even respectable and admirable1 compared with the kind of person who has no pleasure in sights of this kind1 but only in fair faades1 trim gardens1 and park palings1 and who would thrust all poverty and misery out of his way1 collecting it into back alleys1 or sweeping it finally out of the world1 so that the street might give wider play for his chariot wheels1 and the breeze less offence to his nobility4 #ad4 ,therefore1 even the love for the lower picturesque ought to be cultivated with care1 wherever it exists2 not with any special view to artistic1 but to merely humane1 education4 ,it will never really or seriously interfere with practical benevolence2 on the contrary1 it will constantly lead1 if associated with other benevolent principles1 to a truer sympathy with the poor1 and better understanding of the right ways of helping them2 and1 in the present stage of civilization1 it is the most important element of character1 not directly moral1 which can be cultivated in youth2 since it is mainly for the want of this feeling that we destroy so many ancient monuments1 in order to erect handsome streets and shops instead1 which might just as well have been erected elsewhere1 and whose effect on our minds1 so far as they have any1 is to increase every disposition to frivolity1 expense1 and display4 ,these1 and such other considerations not directly connected with our subject1 ,i shall1 perhaps1 be able to press farther at the close of my work2 meantime1 we turn to the immediate question1 of the distinction between the lower and higher picturesque1 and the artists who pursue them4 #ae4 ,it is evident1 from what has been advanced1 that there is no definite bar of separation between the two2 but that the dignity of the picturesque increases from lower to higher1 in exact proportion to the sympathy of the artist with his subject4 ,and in like manner his own greatness depends 7other things being equal7 on the extent of this sympathy4 ,if he rests content with narrow enjoyment of outward forms1 and light sensations of luxurious tragedy1 and so goes on multiplying his sketches of mere picturesque material1 he necessarily settles down into the ordinary clever artist1 very good and respectable1 maintaining himself by his sketching and painting in an honorable way1 as by any other daily business1 and in due time passing away from the world without having1 on the whole1 done much for it4 ,such has been the necessary1 not very lamentable1 destiny of a large number of men in these days1 whose gifts urged them to the practice of art1 but who possessing no breadth of mind1 nor having met with masters capable of concentrating what gifts they had towards nobler use1 almost perforce remained in their small picturesque circle2 getting more and more narrowed in range of sympathy as they fell more and more into the habit of contemplating the one particular class of subjects that pleased them1 and recomposing them by rules of art4 ,i need not give instances of this class1 we have very few painters who belong to any other2 ,i only pause for a moment to except from it a man too often confounded with the draughtsmen of the lower picturesque2--a very great man1 who1 though partly by chance1 and partly by choice1 limited in range of subject1 possessed for that subject the profoundest and noblest sympathy--,samuel ,prout4 ,his renderings of the character of old buildings1 such as that spire of ,calais1 are as perfect and as heartfelt as ,i can conceive possible2 nor do ,i suppose that any one else will ever hereafter equal them4#g ,his early works show that he possessed a grasp of mind which could have entered into almost any kind of landscape subject2 that it was only chance--,i do not know if altogether evil chance--which fettered him to stones2 and that in reality he is to be numbered among the true masters of the nobler picturesque4 #af4 ,of these1 also1 the ranks rise in worthiness1 according to their sympathy4 ,in the noblest of them1 that sympathy seems quite unlimited2 they enter with their whole heart into all nature2 their love of grace and beauty keeps them from delighting too much in shattered stones and stunted trees1 their kindness and compassion from dwelling by choice on any kind of misery1 their perfect humility from avoiding simplicity of subject when it comes in their way1 and their grasp of the highest thoughts from seeking a lower sublimity in cottage walls and penthouse roofs4 ,and1 whether it be home of ,english village thatched with straw and walled with clay1 or of ,italian city vaulted with gold and roofed with marble2 whether it be stagnant stream under ragged willow1 or glancing fountain between arcades of laurel1 all to them will bring equal power of happiness1 and equal field for thought4 #ag4 ,turner is the only artist who hitherto has furnished the entire type of this perfection4 ,the attainment of it in all respects is1 of course1 impossible to man2 but the complete type of such a mind has once been seen in him1 and1 ,i think1 existed also in ,tintoret2 though1 as far as ,i know1 ,tintoret has not left any work which indicates sympathy with the humor of the world4 ,paul ,veronese1 on the other hand1 had sympathy with its humor1 but not with its deepest tragedy or horror4 ,rubens wants the feeling for grace and mystery4 ,and so1 as we pass through the list of great painters1 we shall find in each of them some local narrowness4 ,now1 ,i do not1 of course1 mean to say that ,turner has accomplished all to which his sympathy prompted him2 necessarily1 the very breadth of effort involved1 in some directions1 manifest failure2 but he has shown1 in casual incidents1 and by-ways1 a range of feeling which no other painter1 as far as ,i know1 can equal4 ,he cannot1 for instance1 draw children at play as well as ,mulready2 but just glean out of his works the evidence of his sympathy with children2--look at the girl putting her bonnet on the dog1 in the foreground of the ,richmond1 ,yorkshire2 the juvenile tricks and marine dabblers of the ,liber ,studiorum2 the boys scrambling after their kites in the woods of the ,greta and ,buckfastleigh2 and the notable and most pathetic drawing of the ,kirkby ,lonsdale churchyard1 with the schoolboys making a fortress of their larger books on the tombstone1 to bombard with the more projectile volumes2 and passing from these to the intense horror and pathos of the ,rizpah1 consider for yourself whether there was ever any other painter who could strike such an octave4 ,whether there has been or not1 in other walks of art1 this power of sympathy is unquestionably in landscape unrivalled2 and it will be one of our pleasantest future tasks to analyze in his various drawing the character it always gives2 a character1 indeed1 more or less marked in all good work whatever1 but to which1 being preeminent in him1 ,i shall always hereafter give the name of the ,turnerian ,picturesque4 ,,footnotes #a ,ghirlandajo is seen to the greatest possible disadvantage in this place1 as ,i have been forced again to copy from ,lasinio1 who leaves out all the light and shade1 and vulgarizes every form2 but the points requiring notice here are sufficiently shown1 and ,i will do ,ghirlandajo more justice hereafter4 #b ,seven ,lamps of ,architecture1 chap4 vi4 #ab4 #c ,the principal street of ,canterbury has some curious examples of this tininess4 #d ,this1 however1 is of course true only of insignificant duties1 necessary for appearance' sake4 ,serious duties1 necessary for kindness' sake1 must be permitted in any domestic affliction1 under pain of shocking the ,english public4 #e ,i extract from my private diary a passage bearing somewhat on the matter in hand3-- ,amiens1 #aath ,may1 #ah--4 ,i had a happy walk here this afternoon1 down among the branching currents of the ,somme2 it divides into five or six1--shallow1 green1 and not over-wholesome2 some quite narrow and foul1 running beneath clusters of fearful houses1 reeling masses of rotten timber2 and a few mere stumps of pollard willow sticking out of the banks of soft mud1 only retained in shape of bank by being shored up with timbers2 and boats like paper boats1 nearly as thin at least1 for the costermongers to paddle about in among the weeds1 the water soaking through the lath bottoms1 and floating the dead leaves from the vegetable-baskets with which they were loaded4 ,miserable little back yards1 opening to the water1 with steep stone steps down to it1 and little platforms for the ducks2 and separate duck staircases1 composed of a sloping board with cross bits of wood leading to the ducks' doors1 and sometimes a flower-pot or two on them1 or even a flower1--one group1 of wallflowers and geraniums1 curiously vivid1 being seen against the darkness of a dyer's back yard1 who had been dyeing black all day1 and all was black in his yard but the flowers1 and they fiery and pure2 the water by no means so1 but still working its way steadily over the weeds1 until it narrowed into a current strong enough to turn two or three mill-wheels1 one working against the side of an old flamboyant ,gothic church1 whose richly traceried buttresses sloped into the filthy stream2--all exquisitely picturesque1 and no less miserable4 ,we delight in seeing the figures in these boats pushing them about the bits of blue water1 in ,prout's drawings2 but as ,i looked to-day at the unhealthy face and melancholy mien of the man in the boat pushing his load of peats along the ditch1 and of the people1 men as well as women1 who sat spinning gloomily at the cottage doors1 ,i could not help feeling how many suffering persons must pay for my picturesque subject and happy walk4 #f ,epitaph on ,epictetus4 #g ,i believe when a thing is once well done in this world1 it never can be done over again4 ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,of ,,turnerian ,,topography4 #a4 ,we saw1 in the course of the last chapter1 with what kind of feeling an artist ought to regard the character of every object he undertakes to paint4 ,the next question is1 what objects he ought to undertake to paint2 how far he should be influenced by his feelings in the choice of subjects2 and how far he should permit himself to alter1 or1 in the usual art language1 improve1 nature4 ,for it has already been stated 7,vol4 ,,iii4 ,chap4 ,,iii4 #ba471 that all great art must be inventive2 that is to say1 its subject must be produced by the imagination4 ,if so1 then great landscape art cannot be a mere copy of any given scene2 and we have now to inquire what else than this it may be4 #b4 ,if the reader will glance over that twenty-first1 and the following three paragraphs of the same chapter1 he will see that we there divided art generally into historical and poetical1 or the art of relating facts simply1 and facts imaginatively4 ,now1 with respect to landscape1 the historical art is simple topography1 and the imaginative art is what ,i have in the heading of the present chapter called ,turnerian topography1 and must in the course of it endeavor to explain4 ,observe1 however1 at the outset1 that1 touching the duty or fitness of altering nature at all1 the quarrels which have so wofully divided the world of art are caused only by want of understanding this simplest of all canons1--,it is always wrong to draw what you don't see4 ,this law is inviolable4 ,but then1 some people see only things that exist1 and others see things that do not exist1 or do not exist apparently4 ,and if they really see these non-apparent things1 they are quite right to draw them2 the only harm is when people try to draw non-apparent things1 who don't see them1 but think they can calculate or compose into existence what is to them for evermore invisible4 ,if some people really see angels where others see only empty space1 let them paint the angels2 only let not anybody else think they can paint an angel1 too1 on any calculated principles of the angelic4 #c4 ,if1 therefore1 when we go to a place1 we see nothing else than is there1 we are to paint nothing else1 and to remain pure topographical or historical landscape painters4 ,if1 going to the place1 we see something quite different from what is there1 then we are to paint that--nay1 we must paint that1 whether we will or not2 it being1 for us1 the only reality we can get at4 ,but let us beware of pretending to see this unreality if we do not4 ,the simple observance of this rule would put an end to nearly all disputes1 and keep a large number of men in healthy work1 who now totally waste their lives2 so that the most important question that an artist can possibly have to determine for himself1 is whether he has invention or not4 ,and this he can ascertain with ease4 ,if visions of unreal things present themselves to him with or without his own will1 praying to be painted1 quite ungovernable in their coming or going1--neither to be summoned if they do not choose to come1 nor banished if they do1--he has invention4 ,if1 on the contrary1 he only sees the commonly visible facts2 and1 should he not like them1 and want to alter them1 finds that he must think of a rule whereby to do so1 he has no invention4 ,all the rules in the world will do him no good2 and if he tries to draw anything else than those materially visible facts1 he will pass his whole life in uselessness1 and produce nothing but scientific absurdities4 #d4 ,let him take his part at once1 boldly1 and be content4 ,pure history and pure topography are most precious things2 in many cases more useful to the human race than high imaginative work2 and assuredly it is intended that a large majority of all who are employed in art should never aim at anything higher4 ,it is only vanity1 never love1 nor any other noble feeling1 which prompts men to desert their allegiance to the simple truth1 in vain pursuit of the imaginative truth which has been appointed to be for evermore sealed to them4 ,nor let it be supposed that artists who possess minor degrees of imaginative gift need be embarrassed by the doubtful sense of their own powers4 ,in general1 when the imagination is at all noble1 it is irresistible1 and therefore those who can at all resist it ought to resist it4 ,be a plain topographer if you possibly can2 if ,nature meant you to be anything else1 she will force you to it2 but never try to be a prophet2 go on quietly with your hard camp-work1 and the spirit will come to you in the camp1 as it did to ,eldad and ,medad1 if you are appointed to have it2 but try above all things to be quickly perceptive of the noble spirit in others1 and to discern in an instant between its true utterance and the diseased mimicries of it4 ,in a general way1 remember it is a far better thing to find out other great men1 than to become one yourself3 for you can but become one at best1 but you may bring others to light in numbers4 #e4 ,we have1 therefore1 to inquire what kind of changes these are1 which must be wrought by the imaginative painter on landscape1 and by whom they have been thus nobly wrought4 ,first1 for the better comfort of the non-imaginative painter1 be it observed1 that it is not possible to find a landscape1 which1 if painted precisely as it is1 will not make an impressive picture4 ,no one knows1 till he has tried1 what strange beauty and subtle composition is prepared to his hand by ,nature1 wherever she is left to herself2 and what deep feeling may be found in many of the most homely scenes1 even where man has interfered with those wild ways of hers4 ,but1 beyond this1 let him note that though historical topography forbids alteration1 it neither forbids sentiment nor choice4 ,so far from doing this1 the proper choice of subject#h is an absolute duty to the topographical painter3 he should first take care that it is a subject intensely pleasing to himself1 else he will never paint it well2 and then also1 that it shall be one in some sort pleasurable to the general public1 else it is not worth painting at all2 and lastly1 take care that it be instructive1 as well as pleasurable to the public1 else it is not worth painting with care4 ,i should particularly insist at present on this careful choice of subject1 because the ,pre-,raphaelites1 taken as a body1 have been culpably negligent in this respect1 not in humble honor of ,nature1 but in morbid indulgence of their own impressions4 ,they happen to find their fancies caught by a bit of an oak hedge1 or the weeds at the sides of a duck-pond1 because1 perhaps1 they remind them of a stanza of ,tennyson2 and forthwith they sit down to sacrifice the most consummate skill1 two or three months of the best summer time available for out-door work 7equivalent to some seventieth or sixtieth of all their lives71 and nearly all their credit with the public1 to this duck-pond delineation4 ,now it is indeed quite right that they should see much to be loved in the hedge1 nor less in the ditch2 but it is utterly and inexcusably wrong that they should neglect the nobler scenery which is full of majestic interest1 or enchanted by historical association2 so that1 as things go at present1 we have all the commonalty that may be seen whenever we choose1 painted properly2 but all of lovely and wonderful1 which we cannot see but at rare intervals1 painted vilely3 the castles of the ,rhine and ,rhone made vignettes of for the annuals2 and the nettles and mushrooms1 which were prepared by ,nature eminently for nettle porridge and fish sauce1 immortalized by art as reverently as if we were ,egyptians1 and they deities4 #f4 ,generally speaking1 therefore1 the duty of every painter at present1 who has not much invention1 is to take subjects of which the portraiture will be precious in after times2 views of our abbeys and cathedrals2 distant views of cities1 if possible chosen from some spot in itself notable by association2 perfect studies of the battle-fields of ,europe1 of all houses of celebrated men1 and places they loved1 and1 of course1 of the most lovely natural scenery4 ,and1 in doing all this1 it should be understood1 primarily1 whether the picture is topographical or not3 if topographical1 then not a line is to be altered1 not a stick nor stone removed1 not a color deepened1 not a form improved2 the picture is to be1 as far as possible1 the reflection of the place in a mirror2 and the artist to consider himself only as a sensitive and skilful reflector1 taking care that no false impression is conveyed by any error on his part which he might have avoided2 so that it may be for ever afterwards in the power of all men to lean on his work with absolute trust1 and to say3 ,so it was3--on such a day of ,june or ,july of such a year1 such a place looked like this2 these weeds were growing there1 so tall and no taller2 those stones were lying there1 so many and no more2 that tower so rose against the sky1 and that shadow so slept upon the street4 #g4 ,nor let it be supposed that the doing of this would ever become mechanical1 or be found too easy1 or exclude sentiment4 ,as for its being easy1 those only think so who never tried it2 composition being1 in fact1 infinitely easier to a man who can compose1 than imitation of this high kind to even the most able imitator2 nor would it exclude sentiment1 for1 however sincerely we may try to paint all we see1 this cannot1 as often aforesaid1 be ever done3 all that is possible is a certain selection1 and more or less wilful assertion1 of one fact in preference to another2 which selection ought always to be made under the influence of sentiment4 ,nor will such topography involve an entire submission to ugly accidents interfering with the impressiveness of the scene4 ,i hope1 as art is better understood1 that our painters will get into the habit of accompanying all their works with a written statement of their own reasons for painting them1 and the circumstances under which they were done2 and1 if in this written document they state the omissions they have made1 they may make as many as they think proper4 ,for instance1 it is not possible now to obtain a view of the head of the ,lake of ,geneva without including the ,htel ,biron--an establishment looking like a large cotton factory--just above the ,castle of ,chillon4 ,this building ought always to be omitted1 and the reason for the omission stated4 ,so the beauty of the whole town of ,lucerne1 as seen from the lake1 is destroyed by the large new hotel for the ,english1 which ought1 in like manner1 to be ignored1 and the houses behind it drawn as if it were transparent4 #h4 ,but if a painter has inventive power he is to treat his subject in a totally different way2 giving not the actual facts of it1 but the impression it made on his mind4 ,and now1 once for all1 let it be clearly understood that an impression on the mind does not mean a piece of manufacture4 ,the way in which most artists proceed to invent1 as they call it1 a picture1 is this3 they choose their subject1 for the most part1 well1 with a sufficient quantity of towers1 mountains1 ruined cottages1 and other materials1 to be generally interesting2 then they fix on some object for a principal light2 behind this they put a dark cloud1 or1 in front of it1 a dark piece of foreground2 then they repeat this light somewhere else in a less degree1 and connect the two lights together by some intermediate ones4 ,if they find any part of the foreground uninteresting they put a group of figures into it2 if any part of the distance1 they put something there from some other sketch2 and proceed to inferior detail in the same manner1 taking care always to put white stones near black ones1 and purple colors near yellow ones1 and angular forms near round ones2--all being as simply a matter of recipe and practice as cookery2 like that1 not by any means a thing easily done well1 but still having no reference whatever to impressions on the mind4 #i4 ,but the artist who has real invention sets to work in a totally different way4 ,first1 he receives a true impression from the place itself1 and takes care to keep hold of that as his chief good2 indeed1 he needs no care in the matter1 for the distinction of his mind from that of others consists in his instantly receiving such sensations strongly1 and being unable to lose them2 and then he sets himself as far as possible to reproduce that impression on the mind of the spectator of his picture4 ,now1 observe1 this impression on the mind never results from the mere piece of scenery which can be included within the limits of the picture4 ,it depends on the temper into which the mind has been brought1 both by all the landscape round1 and by what has been seen previously in the course of the day2 so that no particular spot upon which the painter's glance may at any moment fall1 is then to him what1 if seen by itself1 it will be to the spectator far away2 nor is it what it would be1 even to that spectator1 if he had come to the reality through the steps which ,nature has appointed to be the preparation for it1 instead of seeing it isolated on an exhibition wall4 ,for instance1 on the descent of the ,st4 ,gothard1 towards ,italy1 just after passing through the narrow gorge above ,fado1 the road emerges into a little breadth of valley1 which is entirely filled by fallen stones and dbris1 partly disgorged by the ,ticino as it leaps out of the narrower chasm1 and partly brought down by winter avalanches from a loose and decomposing mass of mountain on the left4 ,beyond this first promontory is seen a considerably higher range1 but not an imposing one1 which rises above the village of ,fado4 ,the etching1 ,plate #bj1 is a topographical outline of the scene1 with the actual blocks of rock which happened to be lying in the bed of the ,ticino at the spot from which ,i chose to draw it4 ,the masses of loose dbris 7which1 for any permanent purpose1 ,i had no need to draw1 as their arrangement changes at every flood7 ,i have not drawn1 but only those features of the landscape which happen to be of some continual importance4 ,of which note1 first1 that the little three-windowed building on the left is the remnant of a gallery built to protect the road1 which once went on that side1 from the avalanches and stones that come down the couloir#i in the rock above4 ,it is only a ruin1 the greater part having been by said avalanches swept away1 and the old road1 of which a remnant is also seen on the extreme left1 abandoned1 and carried now along the hillside on the right1 partly sustained on rough stone arches1 and winding down1 as seen in the sketch1 to a weak wooden bridge1 which enables it to recover its old track past the gallery4 ,it seems formerly 7but since the destruction of the gallery7 to have gone about a mile farther down the river on the right bank1 and then to have been carried across by a longer wooden bridge1 of which only the two abutments are seen in the sketch1 the rest having been swept away by the ,ticino1 and the new bridge erected near the spectator4 #aj4 ,there is nothing in this scene1 taken by itself1 particularly interesting or impressive4 ,the mountains are not elevated1 nor particularly fine in form1 and the heaps of stones which encumber the ,ticino present nothing notable to the ordinary eye4 ,but1 in reality1 the place is approached through one of the narrowest and most sublime ravines in the ,alps1 and after the traveller during the early part of the day has been familiarized with the aspect of the highest peaks of the ,mont ,st4 ,gothard4 ,hence it speaks quite another language to him from that in which it would address itself to an unprepared spectator3 the confused stones1 which by themselves would be almost without any claim upon his thoughts1 become exponents of the fury of the river by which he has journeyed all day long2 the defile beyond1 not in itself narrow or terrible1 is regarded nevertheless with awe1 because it is imagined to resemble the gorge that has just been traversed above2 and1 although no very elevated mountains immediately overhang it1 the scene is felt to belong to1 and arise in its essential characters out of1 the strength of those mightier mountains in the unseen north4 ,illustration3 #bj4 ,pass of ,fado4 7#ast4 ,simple ,topography47 #aa4 ,any topographical delineation of the facts1 therefore1 must be wholly incapable of arousing in the mind of the beholder those sensations which would be caused by the facts themselves1 seen in their natural relations to others4 ,and the aim of the great inventive landscape painter must be to give the far higher and deeper truth of mental vision1 rather than that of the physical facts1 and to reach a representation which1 though it may be totally useless to engineers or geographers1 and1 when tried by rule and measure1 totally unlike the place1 shall yet be capable of producing on the far-away beholder's mind precisely the impression which the reality would have produced1 and putting his heart into the same state in which it would have been1 had he verily descended into the valley from the gorges of ,airolo4 #ab4 ,now observe2 if in his attempt to do this the artist does not understand the sacredness of the truth of ,impression1 and supposes that1 once quitting hold of his first thought1 he may by ,philosophy compose something prettier than he saw1 and mightier than he felt1 it is all over with him4 ,every such attempt at composition will be utterly abortive1 and end in something that is neither true nor fanciful2 something geographically useless1 and intellectually absurd4 ,but if1 holding fast his first thought1 he finds other ideas insensibly gathering to it1 and1 whether he will or not1 modifying it into something which is not so much the image of the place itself1 as the spirit of the place1 let him yield to such fancies1 and follow them wherever they lead4 ,for1 though error on this side is very rare among us in these days1 it is possible to check these finer thoughts by mathematical accuracies1 so as materially to impair the imaginative faculty4 ,i shall be able to explain this better after we have traced the actual operation of ,turner's mind on the scene under discussion4 #ac4 ,turner was always from his youth fond of stones 7we shall see presently why74 ,whether large or small1 loose or embedded1 hewn into cubes or worn into boulders1 he loved them as much as ,william ,hunt loves pineapples and plums4 ,so that this great litter of fallen stones1 which to any one else would have been simply disagreeable1 was to ,turner much the same as if the whole valley had been filled with plums and pineapples1 and delighted him exceedingly1 much more than even the gorge of ,dazio ,grande just above4 ,but that gorge had its effect upon him also1 and was still not well out of his head when the diligence stopped at the bottom of the hill1 just at that turn of the road on the right of the bridge2 which favorable opportunity ,turner seized to make what he called a memorandum of the place1 composed of a few pencil scratches on a bit of thin paper1 that would roll up with others of the sort and go into his pocket afterwards4 ,these pencil scratches he put a few blots of color upon 7,i suppose at ,bellinzona the same evening1 certainly not upon the spot71 and showed me this blotted sketch when he came home4 ,i asked him to make me a drawing of it1 which he did1 and casually told me afterwards 7a rare thing for him to do7 that he liked the drawing he had made4 ,of this drawing ,i have etched a reduced outline in ,plate #ba4 #ad4 ,in which1 primarily1 observe that the whole place is altered in scale1 and brought up to the general majesty of the higher forms of the ,alps4 ,it will be seen that1 in my topographical sketch1 there are a few trees rooted in the rock on this side of the gallery1 showing by comparison1 that it is not above four or five hundred feet high4 ,these trees ,turner cuts away1 and gives the rock a height of about a thousand feet1 so as to imply more power and danger in the avalanche coming down the couloir4 ,next1 he raises1 in a still greater degree1 all the mountains beyond1 putting three or four ranges instead of one1 but uniting them into a single massy bank at their base1 which he makes overhang the valley1 and thus reduces it nearly to such a chasm as that which he had just passed through above1 so as to unite the expression of this ravine with that of the stony valley4 ,a few trees1 in the hollow of the glen1 he feels to be contrary in spirit to the stones1 and fells them1 as he did the others2 so also he feels the bridge in the foreground1 by its slenderness1 to contradict the aspect of violence in the torrent2 he thinks the torrent and avalanches should have it all their own way hereabouts2 so he strikes down the nearer bridge1 and restores the one farther off1 where the force of the stream may be supposed less4 ,next1 the bit of road on the right1 above the bank1 is not built on a wall1 nor on arches high enough to give the idea of an ,alpine road in general2 so he makes the arches taller1 and the bank steeper1 introducing1 as we shall see presently1 a reminiscence from the upper part of the pass4 ,illustration3 #ba4 ,pass of ,fado4 7#b;d4 ,turnerian ,topography47 #ae4 ,i say he thinks this1 and introduces that4 ,but1 strictly speaking1 he does not think at all4 ,if he thought1 he would instantly go wrong2 it is only the clumsy and uninventive artist who thinks4 ,all these changes come into his head involuntarily2 an entirely imperative dream1 crying1 thus it must be1 has taken possession of him2 he can see1 and do1 no otherwise than as the dream directs4 ,this is especially to be remembered with respect to the next incident--the introduction of figures4 ,most persons to whom ,i have shown the drawing1 and who feel its general character1 regret that there is any living thing in it2 they say it destroys the majesty of its desolation4 ,but the dream said not so to ,turner4 ,the dream insisted particularly upon the great fact of its having come by the road4 ,the torrent was wild1 the stones were wonderful2 but the most wonderful thing of all was how we ourselves1 the dream and ,i1 ever got here4 ,by our feet we could not--by the clouds we could not--by any ivory gates we could not--in no other wise could we have come than by the coach road4 ,one of the great elements of sensation1 all the day long1 has been that extraordinary road1 and its goings on1 and gettings about2 here1 under avalanches of stones1 and among insanities of torrents1 and overhangings of precipices1 much tormented and driven to all manner of makeshifts and coils to this side and the other1 still the marvellous road persists in going on1 and that so smoothly and safely1 that it is not merely great diligences1 going in a caravanish manner1 with whole teams of horses1 that can traverse it1 but little postchaises with small postboys1 and a pair of ponies4 ,and the dream declared that the full essence and soul of the scene1 and consummation of all the wonderfulness of the torrents and ,alps1 lay in a postchaise1 with small ponies and postboy1 which accordingly it insisted upon ,turner's inserting1 whether he liked it or not1 at the turn of the road4 #af4 ,now1 it will be observed by any one familiar with ordinary principles of arrangement of form 7on which principles ,i shall insist at length in another place71 that while the dream introduces these changes bearing on the expression of the scene1 it is also introducing other changes1 which appear to be made more or less in compliance with received rules of composition1#aj rendering the masses broader1 the lines more continuous1 and the curves more graceful4 ,but the curious part of the business is1 that these changes seem not so much to be wrought by imagining an entirely new condition of any feature1 as by remembering something which will fit better in that place4 ,for instance1 ,turner felt the bank on the right ought to be made more solid and rocky1 in order to suggest firmer resistance to the stream1 and he turns it1 as will be seen by comparing the etchings1 into a kind of rock buttress1 to the wall1 instead of a mere bank4 ,now1 the buttress into which he turns it is very nearly a facsimile of one which he had drawn on that very ,st4 ,gothard road1 far above1 at the ,devil's ,bridge1 at least thirty years before1 and which he had himself etched and engraved1 for the ,liber ,studiorum1 although the plate was never published4 ,fig4 #a is a copy of the bit of the etching in question4 ,note how the wall winds over it1 and observe especially the peculiar depression in the middle of its surface1 and compare it in those parts generally with the features introduced in the later composition4 ,of course1 this might be set down as a mere chance coincidence1 but for the frequency of the cases in which ,turner can be shown to have done the same thing1 and to have introduced1 after a lapse of many years1 memories of something which1 however apparently small or unimportant1 had struck him in his earlier studies4 ,these instances1 when ,i can detect them1 ,i shall point out as ,i go on engraving his works2 and ,i think they are numerous enough to induce a doubt whether ,turner's composition was not universally an arrangement of remembrances1 summoned just as they were wanted1 and set each in its fittest place4 ,it is this very character which appears to me to mark it as so distinctly an act of dream-vision2 for in a dream there is just this kind of confused remembrance of the forms of things which we have seen long ago1 associated by new and strange laws4 ,that common dreams are grotesque and disorderly1 and ,turner's dream natural and orderly1 does not1 to my thinking1 involve any necessary difference in the real species of act of mind4 ,i think ,i shall be able to show1 in the course of the following pages1 or elsewhere1 that whenever ,turner really tried to compose1 and made modifications of his subjects on principle1 he did wrong1 and spoiled them2 and that he only did right in a kind of passive obedience to his first vision1 that vision being composed primarily of the strong memory of the place itself which he had to draw2 and secondarily1 of memories of other places 7whether recognized as such by himself or not ,i cannot tell71 associated1 in a harmonious and helpful way1 with the new central thought4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #a4 #ag4 ,the kind of mental chemistry by which the dream summons and associates its materials1 ,i have already endeavored1 not to explain1 for it is utterly inexplicable1 but to illustrate1 by a well-ascertained though equally inexplicable fact in common chemistry4 ,that illustration 7 #h4 of chapter on ,imaginative ,association1 ,vol4 ,,ii47 ,i see more and more ground to think correct4 ,how far ,i could show that it held with all great inventors1 ,i know not1 but with all those whom ,i have carefully studied 7,dante1 ,scott1 ,turner1 and ,tintoret7 it seems to me to hold absolutely2 their imagination consisting1 not in a voluntary production of new images1 but an involuntary remembrance1 exactly at the right moment1 of something they had actually seen4 ,imagine all that any of these men had seen or heard in the whole course of their lives1 laid up accurately in their memories as in vast storehouses1 extending1 with the poets1 even to the slightest intonations of syllables heard in the beginning of their lives1 and1 with the painters1 down to the minute folds of drapery1 and shapes of loaves or stones2 and over all this unindexed and immeasurable mass of treasure1 the imagination brooding and wandering1 but dream-gifted1 so as to summon at any moment exactly such groups of ideas as shall justly fit each other3 this ,i conceive to be the real nature of the imaginative mind1 and this1 ,i believe1 it would be oftener explained to us as being1 by the men themselves who possess it1 but that they have no idea what the state of other persons' minds is in comparison2 they suppose every one remembers all that he has seen in the same way1 and do not understand how it happens that they alone can produce good drawings or great thoughts4 ,illustration3 ,turner4 ,t4 ,boys4 #bb4 ,turner's ,earliest ,nottingham4 #ah4 ,whether this be the case with all inventors or not1 it was assuredly the case with ,turner to such an extent that he seems never to have lost1 or cared to disturb1 the impression made upon him by any scene1--even in his earliest youth4 ,he never seems to have gone back to a place to look at it again1 but1 as he gained power1 to have painted and repainted it as first seen1 associating with it certain new thoughts or new knowledge1 but never shaking the central pillar of the old image4 ,several instances of this have been already given in my pamphlet on ,pre-,raphaelitism2 others will be noted in the course of our investigation of his works2 one1 merely for the sake of illustration1 ,i will give here4 #ai4 ,plate #bb is an outline of a drawing of the town and castle of ,nottingham1 made by ,turner for ,walker's ,itinerant1 and engraved in that work4 ,the engraving 7from which this outline was made1 as ,i could not discover the drawing itself7 was published on the #bhth of ,february1 #agie1 a period at which ,turner was still working in a very childish way2 and the whole design of this plate is curiously stiff and commonplace4 ,note1 especially1 the two formal little figures under the sail4 ,in the year #ahcc1 an engraving of ,nottingham1 from a drawing by ,turner1 was published by ,moon1 ,boys1 and ,graves1 in the ,england and ,wales series4 ,turner certainly made none of the drawings for that series long before they were wanted2 and if1 therefore1 we suppose the drawing to have been made so much as three years before the publication of the plate1 it will be setting the date of it as far back as is in the slightest degree probable4 ,we may assume therefore 7and the conclusion is sufficiently established1 also1 by the style of the execution71 that there was an interval of at least thirty-five years between the making of those two drawings1--thirty-five years1 in the course of which ,turner had become1 from an unpractised and feeble draughtsman1 the most accomplished artist of his age1 and had entirely changed his methods of work and his habits of feeling4 #bj4 ,on the page opposite to the etching of the first1 ,i have given an etching of the last ,nottingham4 ,the one will be found to be merely the amplification and adornment of the other4 ,every incident is preserved2 even the men employed about the log of wood are there1 only now removed far away 7beyond the lock on the right1 between it and the town71 and so lost in mist that1 though made out by color in the drawing1 they cannot be made clear in the outline etching4 ,the canal bridge and even the stiff mast are both retained2 only another boat is added1 and the sail dropped upon the higher mast is hoisted on the lower one2 and the castle1 to get rid of its formality1 is moved a little to the left1 so as to hide one side4 ,but1 evidently1 no new sketch has been made4 ,the painter has returned affectionately to his boyish impression1 and worked it out with his manly power4 #ba4 ,how far this manly power itself acted merely in the accumulation of memories1 remains1 as ,i said1 a question undetermined2 but at all events1 ,turner's mind is not more1 in my estimation1 distinguished above others by its demonstrably arranging and ruling faculties1 than by its demonstrably retentive and submissive faculties2 and the longer ,i investigate it1 the more this tenderness of perception and grasp of memory seem to me the root of its greatness4 ,so that ,i am more and more convinced of what ,i had to state respecting the imagination1 now many years ago1 viz41 that its true force lies in its marvellous insight and foresight--that it is1 instead of a false and deceptive faculty1 exactly the most accurate and truth-telling faculty which the human mind possesses2 and all the more truth-telling1 because1 in its work1 the vanity and individualism of the man himself are crushed1 and he becomes a mere instrument or mirror1 used by a higher power for the reflection to others of a truth which no effort of his could ever have ascertained2 so that all mathematical1 and arithmetical1 and generally scientific truth1 is1 in comparison1 truth of the husk and surface1 hard and shallow2 and only the imaginative truth is precious4 ,hence1 whenever we want to know what are the chief facts of any case1 it is better not to go to political economists1 nor to mathematicians1 but to the great poets2 for ,i find they always see more of the matter than any one else3 and in like manner those who want to know the real facts of the world's outside aspect1 will find that they cannot trust maps1 nor charts1 nor any manner of mensuration2 the most important facts being always quite immeasurable1 and that 7with only some occasional and trifling inconvenience1 if they form too definite anticipations as to the position of a bridge here1 or a road there7 the ,turnerian topography is the only one to be trusted4 ,illustration3 ,turner4 ,t4 ,boys4 #bc4 ,turner's ,latest ,nottingham4 #bb4 ,one or two important corollaries may be drawn from these principles1 respecting the kind of fidelity which is to be exacted from men who have no imaginative power4 ,it has been stated1 over and over again1 that it is not possible to draw the whole of nature1 as in a mirror4 ,certain omissions must be made1 and certain conventionalities admitted1 in all art4 ,now it ought to be the instinctive affection of each painter which guides him to the omissions he is to make1 or signs he is to use2 and his choice of this or the other fact for representation1 his insistence upon this or the other character in his subject1 as that which to him is impressive1 constitutes1 when it is earnest and simple1 part of the value of his work4 ,this is the only inspiration he is capable of1 but it is a kind of inspiration still2 and although he may not have the memory or the associative power which would enable him to compose a subject in the ,turnerian manner1 he may have certain affections1 perfectly expressible in his work1 and of which he ought to allow the influence to be seen4#aa #bc4 ,and this may especially be permitted in rapid sketching of effects or scenes which1 either in their speedy passing away1 or for want of time1 it is impossible to draw faithfully4 ,generally1 if leisure permit1 the detailed drawing of the object will be grander than any impression on the mind of an unimaginative person2 but if leisure do not permit1 a rapid sketch1 marking forcibly the points that strike him1 may often have considerable interest in its way4 ,the other day ,i sketched the towers of the ,swiss ,fribourg hastily from the ,htel de ,zahringen4 ,it was a misty morning with broken sunshine1 and the towers were seen by flickering light through broken clouds1--dark blue mist filling the hollow of the valley behind them4 ,i have engraved the sketch on the opposite page1 adding a few details1 and exaggerating the exaggerations2 for in drawing from nature1 even at speed1 ,i am not in the habit of exaggerating enough to illustrate what ,i mean4 ,the next day1 on a clear and calm forenoon1 ,i daguerreotyped the towers1 with the result given on the next plate 7#be ,fig4 #b72 and this unexaggerated statement1 with its details properly painted1 would not only be the more right1 but infinitely the grander of the two4 ,but the first sketch nevertheless conveys1 in some respects1 a truer idea of ,fribourg than any other1 and has1 therefore1 a certain use4 ,for instance1 the wall going up behind the main tower is seen in my drawing to bend very distinctly1 following the different slopes of the hill4 ,in the daguerreotype this bend is hardly perceptible4 ,and yet the notablest thing in the town of ,fribourg is1 that all its walls have got flexible spines1 and creep up and down the precipices more in the manner of cats than walls2 and there is a general sense of height1 strength and grace1 about its belts of tower and rampart1 which clings even to every separate and less graceful piece of them when seen on the spot2 so that the hasty sketch1 expressing this1 has a certain veracity wanting altogether in the daguerreotype4 ,nay1 sometimes1 even in the most accurate and finished topography1 a slight exaggeration may be permitted2 for many of the most important facts in nature are so subtle1 that they must be slightly exaggerated1 in order to be made noticeable when they are translated into the comparatively clumsy lines of even the best drawing1#ab and removed from the associating circumstances which enhanced their influence1 or directed attention to them1 in nature4 ,illustration3 #bd4 ,the ,towers of ,fribourg4 ,illustration3 ,j4 ,ruskin ,j4 ,h4 ,le ,keux4 #be4 ,things in general4 #bd4 ,still1 in all these cases1 the more unconscious the draughtsman is of the changes he is making1 the better4 ,love will then do its own proper work2 and the only true test of good or bad is1 ultimately1 strength of affection4 ,for it does not matter with what wise purposes1 or on what wise principles1 the thing is drawn2 if it be not drawn for love of it1 it will never be right2 and if it be drawn for love of it1 it will never be wrong--love's misrepresentation being truer than the most mathematical presentation4 ,and although all the reasonings about right and wrong1 through which we have been led in this chapter1 could never be brought to bear on the work at the moment of doing it1 yet this test of right holds always2--if the artist is in any wise modifying or methodizing to exhibit himself and his dexterity1 his work will1 in that precise degree1 be abortive2 and if he is working with hearty love of the place1 earnest desire to be faithful to it1 and yet an open heart for every fancy that ,heaven sends him1 in that precise degree his work will be great and good4 ,,footnotes #h ,observe1 what was said in the second volume respecting the spirit of choice as evil1 refers only to young students1 and to that choice which assumes that any common subject is not good enough1 nor interesting enough1 to be studied4 ,but1 though all is good for study1 and all is beautiful1 some is better than the rest for the help and pleasure of others2 and this it is our duty always to choose1 if we have opportunity1 being quite happy with what is within our reach1 if we have not4 #i ,couloir is a good untranslateable ,savoyard word1 for a place down which stones and water fall in storms2 it is perhaps deserving of naturalization4 #aj ,i have just said1 #ab1 that if1 quitting hold of this original impression1 the artist tries to compose something prettier than he saw1 it is all over with him2 but1 retaining the first impression1 he will1 nevertheless1 if he has invention1 instinctively modify many lines and parts of it--possibly all parts of it--for the better2 sometimes making them individually more pictorial1 sometimes preventing them from interfering with each other's beauty4 ,for almost all natural landscapes are redundant treasures of more or less confused beauty1 out of which the human instinct of invention can by just choice arrange1 not a better treasure1 but one more fitted to human sight and emotion1 infinitely narrower1 infinitely less lovely in detail1 but having this great virtue1 that there shall be absolutely nothing which does not contribute to the effect of the whole2 whereas in the natural landscape there is a redundancy which impresses only as redundance1 and often an occurrence of marring features2 not of ugliness only1 but of ugliness in the wrong place4 ,ugliness has its proper virtue and use2 but ugliness occurring at the wrong time 7as if the negro servant1 instead of standing behind the king1 in ,tintoret's picture1 were to thrust his head in front of the noble features of his master7 is justly to be disliked and withdrawn4 ,why1 this1 exclaims the idealist1 is what ,i have always been saying1 and you have always been denying4 ,no2 ,i never denied this4 ,but ,i denied that painters in general1 when they spoke of improving ,nature1 knew what ,nature was4 ,observe3 before they dare as much as to dream of arranging her1 they must be able to paint her as she is2 nor will the most skilful arrangement ever atone for the slightest wilful failure in truth of representation2 and ,i am continually declaiming against arrangement1 not because arrangement is wrong1 but because our present painters have for the most part nothing to arrange4 ,they cannot so much as paint a weed or a post accurately2 and yet they pretend to improve the forests and mountains4 #aa ,for instance1 even in my topographical etching1 ,plate #bj1 ,i have given only a few lines of the thousands which existed in the scene4 ,those lines are what ,i considered the leading ones4 ,another person might have thought other lines the leading ones1 and his representation might be equally true as far as it went2 but which of our representations went furthest would depend on our relative degrees of knowledge and feeling about hills4 #ab ,or the best photograph4 ,the question of the exact relation of value between photography and good topographical drawing1 ,i hope to examine in another place4 ,,chapter ,,iii4 ,,of ,,turnerian ,,light4 #a4 ,having in the preceding chapter seen the grounds on which to explain and justify ,turner's choice of facts1 we proceed to examine finally those modes of representing them introduced by him2--modes so utterly at variance with the received doctrines on the subject of art1 as to cause his works to be regarded with contempt1 or severe blame1 by all reputed judges1 at the period of their first appearance4 ,and1 chiefly1 ,i must confirm and farther illustrate the general statements made respecting light and shade in the chapters on ,truth of ,tone1#ac and on ,infinity1#ad deduced from the great fact 7 #e4 chapter on ,truth of ,tone7 that nature surpasses us in power of obtaining light as much as the sun surpasses white paper4 ,i found that this part of the book was not well understood1 because people in general have no idea how much the sun does surpass white paper4 ,in order to know this practically1 let the reader take a piece of pure white drawing-paper1 and place it in the position in which a drawing is usually seen4 ,this is1 properly1 upright 7all drawings being supposed to be made on vertical planes71 as a picture is seen on a room wall4 ,also1 the usual place in which paintings or drawings are seen is at some distance from a window1 with a gentle side light falling upon them1 front lights being unfavorable to nearly all drawing4 ,therefore the highest light an artist can ordinarily command for his work is that of white paint1 or paper1 under a gentle side light4#ae ,but if we wished to get as much light as possible1 and to place the artist under the most favorable circumstances1 we should take the drawing near the window4 ,put therefore your white paper upright1 and take it to the window4 ,let ac1 cd1 be two sides of your room1 with a window at bb4 ,under ordinary circumstances your picture would be hung at e1 or in some such position on the wall cd4 ,first1 therefore1 put your paper upright at e1 and then bring it gradually to the window1 in the successive positions f1 g1 and 7opening the window7 finally at p4 ,you will notice that as you come nearer the window the light gradually increases on the paper2 so that in the position at p it is far better lighted than it was at e4 ,if1 however1 the sun actually falls upon it at p1 the experiment is unfair1 for the picture is not meant to be seen in sunshine1 and your object is to compare pure white paper1 as ordinarily used1 with sunshine4 ,so either take a time when the sun does not shine at all1 or does not shine in the window where the experiment is to be tried2 or else keep the paper so far within the window that the sun may not touch it4 ,then the experiment is perfectly fair1 and you will find that you have the paper at p in full1 serene1 pictorial light1 of the best kind1 and highest attainable power4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #b4 #b4 ,now1 leaning a little over the window sill1 bring the edge of the paper at p against the sky1 rather low down on the horizon 7,i suppose you choose a fine day for the experiment1 that the sun is high1 and the sky clear blue1 down to the horizon74 ,the moment you bring your white paper against the sky you will be startled to find this bright white paper suddenly appear in shade4 ,you will draw it back1 thinking you have changed its position4 ,but no2 the paper is not in shade4 ,it is as bright as ever it was2 brighter than under ordinary circumstances it ever can be4 ,but1 behold1 the blue sky of the horizon is far brighter4 ,the one is indeed blue1 and the other white1 but the white is darkest1#af and by a great deal4 ,and you will1 though perhaps not for the first time in your life1 perceive that though black is not easily proved to be white1 white1 may1 under certain circumstances1 be very nearly proved black1 or at all events brown4 #c4 ,when this fact is first show to them1 the general feeling with most people is1 that1 by being brought against the sky1 the white paper is somehow or other brought into shade4 ,but this is not so2 the paper remains exactly as it was2 it is only compared with an actually brighter hue1 and looks darker by comparison4 ,the circumstances are precisely like those which affect our sensations of heat and cold4 ,if1 when by chance we have one hand warm1 and another cold1 we feel1 with each hand1 water warmed to an intermediate degree1 we shall first declare the water to be cold1 and then to be warm2 but the water has a definite heat wholly independent of our sensations1 and accurately ascertainable by a thermometer4 ,so it is with light and shade4 ,looking from the bright sky to the white paper1 we affirm the white paper to be in shade1--that is1 it produces on us a sensation of darkness1 by comparison4 ,but the hue of the paper1 and that of the sky1 are just as fixed as temperatures are2 and the sky is actually a brighter thing than white paper1 by a certain number of degrees of light1 scientifically determinable4 ,in the same way1 every other color1 or force of color1 is a fixed thing1 not dependent on sensation1 but numerically representable with as much exactitude as a degree of heat by a thermometer4 ,and of these hues1 that of open sky is one not producible by human art4 ,the sky is not blue color merely1--it is blue fire1 and cannot be painted4 #d4 ,next1 observe1 this blue fire has in it white fire2 that is1 it has white clouds1 as much brighter than itself as it is brighter than the white paper4 ,so1 then1 above this azure light1 we have another equally exalted step of white light4 ,supposing the value of the light of the pure white paper represented by the number #aj1 then that of the blue sky will be 7approximately7 about #bj1 and of the white clouds #cj4 ,but look at the white clouds carefully1 and it will be seen they are not all of the same white2 parts of them are quite grey compared with other parts1 and they are as full of passages of light and shade as if they were of solid earth4 ,nevertheless1 their most deeply shaded part is that already so much lighter than the blue sky1 which has brought us up to our number #cj1 and all these high lights of white are some #aj degrees above that1 or1 to white paper1 as #dj to #aj4 ,and now if you look from the blue sky and white clouds towards the sun1 you will find that this cloud white1 which is four times as white as white paper1 is quite dark and lightless compared with those silver clouds that burn nearer the sun itself1 which you cannot gaze upon1--an infinite of brightness4 ,how will you estimate that8 ,and yet to express all this1 we have but our poor white paper after all4 ,we must not talk too proudly of our truths of art2 ,i am afraid we shall have to let a good deal of black fallacy into it1 at the best4 #e4 ,well1 of the sun1 and of the silver clouds1 we will not talk for the present4 ,but this principal fact we have learned by our experiment with the white paper1 that1 taken all in all1 the calm sky1 with such light and shade as are in it1 is brighter than the earth2 brighter than the whitest thing on earth which has not1 at the moment of comparison1 heaven's own direct light on it4 ,which fact it is generally one of the first objects of noble painters to render4 ,i have already marked one part of their aim in doing so1 namely1 the expression of infinity2 but the opposing of heavenly light to earth-darkness is another most important one2 and of all ways of rendering a picture generally impressive 7see especially #ab4 of the chapter just referred to71 this is the simplest and surest4 ,make the sky calm and luminous1 and raise against it dark trees1 mountains1 or towers1 or any other substantial and terrestrial thing1 in bold outline1 and the mind accepts the assertion of this great and solemn truth with thankfulness4 #f4 ,but this may be done either nobly or basely1 as any other solemn truth may be asserted4 ,it may be spoken with true feeling of all that it means2 or it may be declared1 as a ,turk declares that ,god is great1 when he means only that he himself is lazy4 ,the heaven is bright1 of many vulgar painters1 has precisely the same amount of signification2 it means that they know nothing--will do nothing--are without thought--without care--without passion4 ,they will not walk the earth1 nor watch the ways of it1 nor gather the flowers of it4 ,they will sit in the shade1 and only assert that very perceptible1 long-ascertained fact1 heaven is bright4 ,and as it may be asserted basely1 so it may be accepted basely4 ,many of our capacities for receiving noblest emotion are abused1 in mere idleness1 for pleasure's sake1 and people take the excitement of a solemn sensation as they do that of a strong drink4 ,thus the abandoned court of ,louis ,,xiv4 had on fast days its sacred concerts1 doubtless entering in some degree into the religious expression of the music1 and thus idle and frivolous women at the present day will weep at an oratorio4 ,so the sublimest effects of landscape may be sought through mere indolence2 and even those who are not ignorant1 or dull1 judge often erroneously of such effects of art1 because their very openness to all pleasant and sacred association instantly colors whatever they see1 so that1 give them but the feeblest shadow of a thing they love1 they are instantly touched by it to the heart1 and mistake their own pleasurable feeling for the result of the painter's power4 ,thus when1 by spotting and splashing1 such a painter as ,constable reminds them somewhat of wet grass and green leaves1 forthwith they fancy themselves in all the happiness of a meadow walk2 and when ,gaspar ,poussin throws out his yellow horizon with black hills1 forthwith they are touched as by the solemnity of a real ,italian twilight1 altogether forgetting that wet grass and twilight do not constitute the universe2 and prevented by their joy at being pleasantly cool1 or gravely warm1 from seeking any of those more precious truths which cannot be caught by momentary sensation1 but must be thoughtfully pursued4 #g4 ,i say more precious1 for the simple fact that the sky is brighter than the earth is not a precious truth unless the earth itself be first understood4 ,despise the earth1 or slander it2 fix your eyes on its gloom1 and forget its loveliness2 and we do not thank you for your languid or despairing perception of brightness in heaven4 ,but rise up actively on the earth1--learn what there is in it1 know its color and form1 and the full measure and make of it1 and if after that you can say heaven is bright1 it will be a precious truth1 but not till then4 ,giovanni ,bellini knows the earth well1 paints it to the full1 and to the smallest fig-leaf and falling flower1--blue hill and white-walled city1--glittering robe and golden hair2 to each he will give its lustre and loveliness2 and then1 so far as with his poor human lips he may declare it1 far beyond all these1 he proclaims that heaven is bright4 ,but ,gaspar1 and such other landscapists1 painting all ,nature's flowery ground as one barrenness1 and all her fair foliage as one blackness1 and all her exquisite forms as one bluntness2 when1 in this sluggard gloom and sullen treachery of heart1 they mutter their miserable attestation to what others had long ago discerned for them1--the sky's brightness1--we do not thank them2 or thank them only in so far as1 even in uttering this last remnant of truth1 they are more commendable than those who have sunk from apathy to atheism1 and declare1 in their dark and hopeless backgrounds1 that heaven is ,,not bright4 #h4 ,let us next ascertain what are the colors of the earth itself4 ,a mountain five or six miles off1 in a sunny summer morning in ,switzerland1 will commonly present itself in some such pitch of dark force1 as related to the sky1 as that shown in ,fig4 #d4 ,plate #be1 while the sky itself will still1 if there are white clouds in it1 tell as a clear dark1 throwing out those white clouds in vigorous relief of light2 yet1 conduct the experiment of the white paper as already described1 and you will1 in all probability1 find that the darkest part of the mountain--its most vigorous nook of almost black-looking shadow--is whiter than the paper4 ,the figure given represents the apparent color#ag of the top of the ,aiguille ,bouchard 7the mountain which is seen from the village of ,chamouni1 on the other side of the ,glacier des ,bois71 distant1 by ,forbes's map1 a furlong or two less than four miles in a direct line from the point of observation4 ,the observation was made on a warm sunny morning1 about eleven o'clock1 the sky clear blue2 the mountain seen against it1 its shadows grey purple1 and its sunlit parts greenish4 ,then the darkest part of the mountain was lighter than pure white paper1 held upright in full light at the window1 parallel to the direction in which the light entered4 ,and it will thus generally be found impossible to represent1 in any of its true colors1 scenery distant more than two or three miles1 in full daylight4 ,the deepest shadows are whiter than white paper4 #i4 ,as1 however1 we pass to nearer objects1 true representation gradually becomes possible2--to what degree is always of course ascertainable accurately by the same mode of experiment4 ,bring the edge of the paper against the thing to be drawn1 and on that edge--as precisely as a lady would match the colors of two pieces of a dress--match the color of the landscape 7with a little opaque white mixed in the tints you use1 so as to render it easy to lighten or darken them74 ,take care not to imitate the tint as you believe it to be1 but accurately as it is2 so that the colored edge of the paper shall not be discernible from the color of the landscape4 ,you will then find 7if before inexperienced7 that shadows of trees1 which you thought were dark green or black1 are pale violets and purples2 that lights1 which you thought were green1 are intensely yellow1 brown1 or golden1 and most of them far too bright to be matched at all4 ,when you have got all the imitable hues truly matched1 sketch the masses of the landscape out completely in those true and ascertained colors2 and you will find1 to your amazement1 that you have painted it in the colors of ,turner1--in those very colors which perhaps you have been laughing at all your life1--the fact being that he1 and he alone1 of all men1 ever painted ,nature in her own colors4 #aj4 ,well1 but1 you will answer1 impatiently1 how is it1 if they are the true colors1 that they look so unnatural8 ,because they are not shown in true contrast to the sky1 and to other high lights4 ,nature paints her shadows in pale purple1 and then raises her lights of heaven and sunshine to such height that the pale purple becomes1 by comparison1 a vigorous dark4 ,but poor ,turner has no sun at his command to oppose his pale colors4 ,he follows ,nature submissively as far as he can2 puts pale purple where she does1 bright gold where she does2 and then when1 on the summit of the slope of light1 she opens her wings and quits the earth altogether1 burning into ineffable sunshine1 what can he do but sit helpless1 stretching his hands towards her in calm consent1 as she leaves him and mocks at him6 #aa4 ,well1 but you will farther ask1 is this right or wise8 ought not the contrast between the masses be given1 rather than the actual hues of a few parts of them1 when the others are inimitable8 ,yes1 if this were possible1 it ought to be done2 but the true contrasts can ,,never be given4 ,the whole question is simply whether you will be false at one side of the scale or at the other1--that is1 whether you will lose yourself in light or in darkness4 ,this necessity is easily expressible in numbers4 ,suppose the utmost light you wish to imitate is that of serene1 feebly lighted1 clouds in ordinary sky 7not sun or stars1 which it is1 of course1 impossible deceptively to imitate in painting by any artifice74 ,then1 suppose the degrees of shadow between those clouds and ,nature's utmost darkness accurately measured1 and divided into a hundred degrees 7darkness being zero74 ,next we measure our own scale1 calling our utmost possible black1 zero2#ah and we shall be able to keep parallel with ,nature1 perhaps up to as far as her #dj degrees2 all above that being whiter than our white paper4 ,well1 with our power of contrast between zero and #dj1 we have to imitate her contrasts between zero and #ajj4 ,now1 if we want true contrasts1 we can first set our #dj to represent her #ajj1 our #bj for her #hj1 and our zero for her #fj2 everything below her #fj being lost in blackness4 ,this is1 with certain modifications1 ,rembrandt's system4 ,or1 secondly1 we can put zero for her zero1 #bj for her #bj1 and #dj for her #dj2 everything above #dj being lost in whiteness4 ,this is1 with certain modifications1 ,paul ,veronese's system4 ,or1 finally1 we can put our zero for her zero1 and our #dj for her #ajj2 our #bj for her #ej1 our #cj for her #ge1 and our ten for her #be1 proportioning the intermediate contrasts accordingly4 ,this is1 with certain modifications1 ,turner's system2#ai the modifications1 in each case1 being the adoption1 to a certain extent1 of either of the other systems4 ,thus1 ,turner inclines to ,paul ,veronese2 liking1 as far as possible1 to get his hues perfectly true up to a certain point1--that is to say1 to let his zero stand for ,nature's zero1 and his #aj for her #aj1 and his #bj for her #bj1 and then to expand towards the light by quick but cunning steps1 putting #bg for #ej1 #cj for #gj1 and reserving some force still for the last #ij to #ajj4 ,so ,rembrandt modifies his system on the other side1 putting his #dj for #ajj1 his #cj for #ij1 his #bj for #hj2 then going subtly downwards1 #aj for #ej1 #e for #cj2 nearly everything between #cj and zero being lost in gloom1 yet so as still to reserve his zero for zero4 ,the systems expressed in tabular form will stand thus3-- ,,nature4 ,,rembrandt4 ,,turner4 ,,veronese4 #j #j #j #j #aj #a #aj #aj #bj #c #bj #bj #cj #e #bd #cj #dj #g #bf #cb #ej #aj #bg #cd #fj #ac #bh #cf #gj #ag #cj #cg #hj #bj #cb #ch #ij #cj #cf #ci #ajj #dj #dj #dj #ab4 ,now it is evident that in ,rembrandt's system1 while the contrasts are not more right than with ,veronese1 the colors are all wrong1 from beginning to end4 ,with ,turner and ,veronese1 ,nature's #aj is their #aj1 and ,nature's #bj their #bj2 enabling them to give pure truth up to a certain point4 ,but with ,rembrandt not one color is absolutely true1 from one side of the scale to the other2 only the contrasts are true at the top of the scale4 ,of course1 this supposes ,rembrandt's system applied to a subject which shall try it to the utmost1 such as landscape4 ,rembrandt generally chose subjects in which the real colors were very nearly imitable1--as single heads with dark backgrounds1 in which ,nature's highest light was little above his own2 her #dj being then truly representable by his #dj1 his picture became nearly an absolute truth4 ,but his system is only right when applied to such subjects3 clearly1 when we have the full scale of natural light to deal with1 ,turner's and ,veronese's convey the greatest sum of truth4 ,but not the most complete deception1 for people are so much more easily and instinctively impressed by force of light than truth of color1 that they instantly miss the relative power of the sky1 and the upper tones2 and all the true local coloring looks strange to them1 separated from its adjuncts of high light2 whereas1 give them the true contrast of light1 and they will not observe the false local color4 ,thus all ,gaspar ,poussin's and ,salvator's pictures1 and all effects obtained by leaving high lights in the midst of exaggerated darkness1 catch the eye1 and are received for true1 while the pure truth of ,veronese and ,turner is rejected as unnatural2 only not so much in ,veronese's case as in ,turner's1 because ,veronese confines himself to more imitable things1 as draperies1 figures1 and architecture1 in which his exquisite truth at the bottom of the scale tells on the eye at once2 but ,turner works a good deal also 7see the table7 at the top of the natural scale1 dealing with effects of sunlight and other phases of the upper colors1 more or less inimitable1 and betraying therefore1 more or less1 the artifices used to express them4 ,it will be observed1 also1 that in order to reserve some force for the top of his scale1 ,turner is obliged to miss his gradations chiefly in middle tints 7see the table71 where the feebleness is sure to be felt4 ,his principal point for missing the midmost gradations is almost always between the earth and sky2 he draws the earth truly as far as he can1 to the horizon2 then the sky as far as he can1 with his #cj to #dj part of the scale4 ,they run together at the horizon2 and the spectator complains that there is no distinction between earth and sky1 or that the earth does not look solid enough4 #ac4 ,in the upper portions of the three pillars #e1 #f1 #g1 ,plate #be1 are typically represented these three conditions of light and shade1 characteristic1 #e1 of ,rembrandt1 #f1 of ,turner1 and #g1 of ,veronese4 ,the pillar to be drawn is supposed1 in all the three cases1 white2 ,rembrandt represents it as white on its highest light2 and1 getting the true gradations between this highest light and extreme dark1 is reduced to his zero1 or black1 for the dark side of the white object4 ,this first pillar also represents the system of ,leonardo da ,vinci4 ,in the room of the ,louvre appropriated to ,italian drawings is a study of a piece of drapery by ,leonardo4 ,its lights are touched with the finest white chalk1 and its shadows wrought1 through exquisite gradations1 to utter blackness4 ,the pillar #f is drawn on the system of ,turner2 the high point of light is still distinct3 but even the darkest part of the shaft is kept pale1 and the gradations which give the roundness are wrought out with the utmost possible delicacy4 ,the third shaft is drawn on ,veronese's system4 ,the light1 though still focused1 is more diffused than with ,turner2 and a slight flatness results from the determination that the fact of the shaft's being white shall be discerned more clearly even than that it is round2 and that its darkest part shall still be capable of brilliant relief1 as a white mass1 from other objects round it4 #ad4 ,this resolution1 on ,veronese's part1 is owing to the profound respect for the colors of objects which necessarily influenced him1 as the colorist at once the most brilliant and the most tender of all painters of the elder schools2 and it is necessary for us briefly to note the way in which this greater or less respect for local color influences the system of the three painters in light and shade4 ,take the whitest piece of note-paper you can find1 put a blot of ink upon it1 carry it into the sunshine1 and hold it fully fronting the sunshine1 so as to make the paper look as dazzling as possible1 but not to let the wet blot of ink shine4 ,you will then find the ink look intensely black1--blacker1 in fact1 than any where else1 owing to its vigorous contrast with the dazzling paper4 ,remove the paper from the sunshine4 ,the ink will not look so black4 ,carry the paper gradually into the darkest part of the room1 and the contrast will as gradually appear to diminish2 and1 of course1 in darkness1 the distinction between the black and the white vanishes4 ,wet ink is as perfect a representative as is by any means attainable of a perfectly dark color2 that is1 of one which absorbs all the light that falls on it2 and the nature of such a color is best understood by considering it as a piece of portable night4 ,now1 of course1 the higher you raise the daylight about this bit of night1 the more vigorous is the contrast between the two4 ,and1 therefore1 as a general rule1 the higher you raise the light on any object with a pattern or stain upon it1 the more distinctly that pattern or stain is seen4 ,but observe3 the distinction between the full black of ink1 and full white of paper1 is the utmost reach of light and dark possible to art4 ,therefore1 if this contrast is to be represented truly1 no deeper black can ever be given in any shadow than that offered at once2 as local color1 in a full black pattern1 on the highest light4 ,and1 where color is the principal object of the picture1 that color must1 at all events1 be as right as possible where it is best seen1 i4e4 in the lights4 ,hence the principle of ,paul ,veronese1 and of all the great ,venetian colorists1 is to use full black for full black in high light1 letting the shadow shift for itself as best it may2 and sometimes even putting the local black a little darker in light than shadow1 in order to give the more vigorous contrast noted above4 ,let the pillars in ,plate #be be supposed to have a black mosaic pattern on the lower part of their shafts4 ,paul ,veronese's general practice will be1 as at #g1 having marked the rounding of the shaft as well as he can in the white parts1 to paint the pattern with one even black over all1 reinforcing it1 if at all1 a little in the light4 #ae4 ,repeat the experiment on the note-paper with a red spot of carmine instead of ink4 ,you will now find that the contrast in the sunshine appears about the same as in the shade--the red and white rising and falling together1 and dying away together into the darkness4 ,the fact1 however1 is1 that the contrast does actually for some time increase towards the light2 for in utter darkness the distinction is not visible--the red cannot be distinguished from the white2 admit a little light1 and the contrast is feebly discernible2 admit more1 it is distinctly discernible4 ,but you cannot increase the contrast beyond a certain point4 ,from that point the red and white for some time rise very nearly equally in light1 or fall together very nearly equally in shade2 but the contrast will begin to diminish in very high lights1 for strong sunlight has a tendency to exhibit particles of dust1 or any sparkling texture in the local color1 and then to diminish its power2 so that in order to see local color well1 a certain degree of shadow is necessary3 for instance1 a very delicate complexion is not well seen in the sun2 and the veins of a marble pillar1 or the colors of a picture1 can only be properly seen in comparative shade4 #af4 ,i will not entangle the reader in the very subtle and curious variations of the laws in this matter4 ,the simple fact which is necessary for him to observe is1 that the paler and purer the color1 the more the great ,venetian colorists will reinforce it in the shadow1 and allow it to fall or rise in sympathy with the light2 and those especially whose object it is to represent sunshine1 nearly always reinforce their local colors somewhat in the shadows1 and keep them both fainter and feebler in the light1 so that they thus approach a condition of universal glow1 the full color being used for the shadow1 and a delicate and somewhat subdued hue of it for the light4 ,and this to the eye is the loveliest possible condition of color4 ,perhaps few people have ever asked themselves why they admire a rose so much more than all other flowers4 ,if they consider1 they will find1 first1 that red is1 in a delicately gradated state1 the loveliest of all pure colors2 and secondly1 that in the rose there is no shadow1 except what is composed of color4 ,all its shadows are fuller in color than its lights1 owing to the translucency and reflective power of its leaves4 ,the second shaft1 #f1 in which the local color is paler towards the light1 and reinforced in the shadow1 will therefore represent the ,venetian system with respect to paler colors1 and the system1 for the most part1 even with respect to darker colors1 of painters who attempt to render effects of strong sunlight4 ,generally1 therefore1 it represents the practice of ,turner4 ,the first shaft1 #e1 exhibits the disadvantage of the practice of ,rembrandt and ,leonardo1 in that they cannot show the local color on the dark side1 since1 however energetic1 it must at last sink into their exaggerated darkness4 #ag4 ,now1 from all the preceding inquiry1 the reader must perceive more and more distinctly the great truth1 that all forms of right art consist in a certain choice made between various classes of truths1 a few only being represented1 and others necessarily excluded2 and that the excellence of each style depends first on its consistency with itself1--the perfect fidelity1 as far as possible1 to the truths it has chosen2 and secondly1 on the breadth of its harmony1 or number of truths it has been able to reconcile1 and the consciousness with which the truths refused are acknowledged1 even though they may not be represented4 ,a great artist is just like a wise and hospitable man with a small house3 the large companies of truths1 like guests1 are waiting his invitation2 he wisely chooses from among this crowd the guests who will be happiest with each other1 making those whom he receives thoroughly comfortable1 and kindly remembering even those whom he excludes2 while the foolish host1 trying to receive all1 leaves a large part of his company on the staircase1 without even knowing who is there1 and destroys1 by inconsistent fellowship1 the pleasure of those who gain entrance4 #ah4 ,but even those hosts who choose well will be farther distinguished from each other by their choice of nobler or inferior companies2 and we find the greatest artists mainly divided into two groups1--those who paint principally with respect to local color1 headed by ,paul ,veronese1 ,titian1 and ,turner2 and those who paint principally with reference to light and shade irrespective of color1 headed by ,leonardo da ,vinci1 ,rembrandt1 and ,raphael4 ,the noblest members of each of these classes introduce the element proper to the other class1 in a subordinate way4 ,paul ,veronese introduces a subordinate light and shade1 and ,leonardo introduces a subordinate local color4 ,the main difference is1 that with ,leonardo1 ,rembrandt1 and ,raphael1 vast masses of the picture are lost in comparatively colorless 7dark1 grey1 or brown7 shadow2 these painters beginning with the lights1 and going down to blackness2 but with ,veronese1 ,titian1 and ,turner1 the whole picture is like the rose1--glowing with color in the shadows1 and rising into paler and more delicate hues1 or masses of whiteness1 in the lights2 they having begun with the shadows1 and gone up to whiteness4 #ai4 ,the colorists have in this respect one disadvantage1 and three advantages4 ,the disadvantage is1 that between their less violent hues1 it is not possible to draw all the forms which can be represented by the exaggerated shadow of the chiaroscurists1 and therefore a slight tendency to flatness is always characteristic of the greater colorists1 as opposed to ,leonardo or ,rembrandt4 ,when the form of some single object is to be given1 and its subtleties are to be rendered to the utmost1 the ,leonardesque manner of drawing is often very noble4 ,it is generally adopted by ,albert ,durer in his engravings1 and is very useful1 when employed by a thorough master1 in many kinds of engraving2#bj but it is an utterly false method of study1 as we shall see presently4 #bj4 ,of the three advantages possessed by the colorists over the chiaroscurists1 the first is1 that they have in the greater portions of their pictures absolute truth1 as shown above1 #ab1 while the chiaroscurists have no absolute truth anywhere4 ,with the colorists the shadows are right2 the lights untrue3 but with the chiaroscurists lights and shadows are both untrue4 ,the second advantage is1 that also the relations of color are broader and vaster with the colorists than the chiaroscurists4 ,take1 for example1 that piece of drapery studied by ,leonardo1 in the ,louvre1 with white lights and black shadows4 ,ask yourself1 first1 whether the real drapery was black or white4 ,if white1 then its high lights are rightly white2 but its folds being black1 it could not as a mass be distinguished from the black or dark objects in its neighborhood4 ,but the fact is1 that a white cloth or handkerchief always is distinguished in daylight1 as a whole white thing1 from all that is colored about it3 we see at once that there is a white piece of stuff1 and a red1 or green1 or grey one near it1 as the case may be3 and this relation of the white object to other objects not white1 ,leonardo has wholly deprived himself of the power of expressing2 while1 if the cloth were black or dark1 much more has he erred by making its lights white4 ,in either case1 he has missed the large relation of mass to mass1 for the sake of the small one of fold to fold4 ,and this is more or less the case with all chiaroscurists2 with all painters1 that is to say1 who endeavor in their studies of objects to get rid of the idea of color1 and give the abstract shade4 ,they invariably exaggerate the shadows1 not with respect to the thing itself1 but with respect to all around it2 and they exaggerate the lights also1 by leaving pure white for the high light of what in reality is grey1 rose-colored1 or1 in some way1 not white4 #ba4 ,this method of study1 being peculiarly characteristic of the ,roman and ,florentine schools1 and associated with very accurate knowledge of form and expression1 has gradually got to be thought by a large body of artists the grand way of study2 an idea which has been fostered all the more because it was an unnatural way1 and therefore thought to be a philosophical one4 ,almost the first idea of a child1 or of a simple person looking at anything1 is1 that it is a red1 or a black1 or a green1 or a white thing4 ,nay1 say the artists2 that is an unphilosophical and barbarous view of the matter4 ,red and white are mere vulgar appearances2 look farther into the matter1 and you will see such and such wonderful other appearances4 ,abstract those1 they are the heroic1 epic1 historic1 and generally eligible appearances4 ,and acting on this grand principle1 they draw flesh white1 leaves white1 ground white1 everything white in the light1 and everything black in the shade--and think themselves wise4 ,but1 the longer ,i live1 the more ground ,i see to hold in high honor a certain sort of childishness or innocent susceptibility4 ,generally speaking1 ,i find that when we first look at a subject1 we get a glimpse of some of the greatest truths about it3 as we look longer1 our vanity1 and false reasoning1 and half-knowledge1 lead us into various wrong opinions2 but as we look longer still1 we gradually return to our first impressions1 only with a full understanding of their mystical and innermost reasons2 and of much beyond and beside them1 not then known to us1 now added 7partly as a foundation1 partly as a corollary7 to what at first we felt or saw4 ,it is thus eminently in this matter of color4 ,lay your hand over the page of this book1--any child or simple person looking at the hand and book1 would perceive1 as the main fact of the matter1 that a brownish pink thing was laid over a white one4 ,the grand artist comes and tells you that your hand is not pink1 and your paper is not white4 ,he shades your fingers and shades your book1 and makes you see all manner of starting veins1 and projecting muscles1 and black hollows1 where before you saw nothing but paper and fingers4 ,but go a little farther1 and you will get more innocent again2 you will find that1 when science has done its worst1 two and two still make four2 and that the main and most important facts about your hand1 so seen1 are1 after all1 that it has four fingers and a thumb--showing as brownish pink things on white paper4 #bb4 ,i have also been more and more convinced1 the more ,i think of it1 that in general pride is at the bottom of all great mistakes4 ,all the other passions do occasional good1 but whenever pride puts in its word1 everything goes wrong1 and what it might really be desirable to do1 quietly and innocently1 it is mortally dangerous to do1 proudly4 ,thus1 while it is very often good for the artist to make studies of things1 for the sake of knowing their forms1 with their high lights all white1 the moment he does this in a haughty way1 and thinks himself drawing in the great style1 because he leaves high lights white1 it is all over with him2 and half the degradation of art in modern times has been owing to endeavors1 much fostered by the metaphysical ,germans1 to see things without color1 as if color were a vulgar thing1 the result being1 in most students1 that they end by not being able to see anything at all2 whereas the true and perfect way of studying any object is simply to look what its color is in high light1 and put that safely down1 if possible2 or1 if you are making a chiaroscuro study1 to take the grey answering to that color1 and cover the whole object at once with that grey1 firmly resolving that no part of it shall be brighter than that2 then look for the darkest part of it1 and if1 as is probable1 its darkest part be still a great deal lighter than black1 or than other things about it1 assume a given shade1 as dark as1 with due reference to other things1 you can have it1 but no darker4 ,mark that for your extreme dark on the object1 and between those limits get as much drawing as you can1 by subtlety of gradation4 ,that will tax your powers of drawing indeed2 and you will find this1 which seems a childish and simple way of going to work1 requires verily a thousandfold more power to carry out than all the pseudo-scientific abstractions that ever were invented4 #bc4 ,nor can it long be doubted that it is also the most impressive way to others2 for the third great advantage possessed by the colorists is1 that the delightfulness of their picture1 its sacredness1 and general nobleness1 are increased exactly in proportion to the quantity of light and of lovely color they can introduce in the shadows1 as opposed to the black and grey of the chiaroscurists4 ,i have already1 in the ,stones of ,venice1 vol4 ii4 chap4 v41 insisted upon the fact of the sacredness of color1 and its necessary connection with all pure and noble feeling4 ,what we have seen of the use of color by the poets will help to confirm this truth2 but perhaps ,i have not yet enough insisted on the simplest and readiest to hand of all proofs1--the way1 namely1 in which ,god has employed color in ,his creation as the unvarying accompaniment of all that is purest1 most innocent1 and most precious2 while for things precious only in material uses1 or dangerous1 common colors are reserved4 ,consider for a little while what sort of a world it would be if all flowers were grey1 all leaves black1 and the sky brown4 ,imagine that1 as completely as may be1 and consider whether you would think the world any whit more sacred for being thus transfigured into the hues of the shadows in ,raphael's ,transfiguration4 ,then observe how constantly innocent things are bright in color2 look at a dove's neck1 and compare it with the grey back of a viper2 ,i have often heard talk of brilliantly colored serpents2 and ,i suppose there are such1--as there are gay poisons1 like the foxglove and kalmia--types of deceit2 but all the venomous serpents ,i have really seen are grey1 brick-red1 or brown1 variously mottled2 and the most awful serpent ,i have seen1 the ,egyptian asp1 is precisely of the color of gravel1 or only a little greyer4 ,so1 again1 the crocodile and alligator are grey1 but the innocent lizard green and beautiful4 ,i do not mean that the rule is invariable1 otherwise it would be more convincing than the lessons of the natural universe are intended ever to be2 there are beautiful colors on the leopard and tiger1 and in the berries of the night-shade2 and there is nothing very notable in brilliancy of color either in sheep or cattle 7though1 by the way1 the velvet of a brown bull's hide in the sun1 or the tawny white of the ,italian oxen1 is1 to my mind1 lovelier than any leopard's or tiger's skin72 but take a wider view of nature1 and compare generally rainbows1 sunrises1 roses1 violets1 butterflies1 birds1 gold-fish1 rubies1 opals1 and corals1 with alligators1 hippopotami1 lions1 wolves1 bears1 swine1 sharks1 slugs1 bones1 fungi1#ba frogs1 and corrupting1 stinging1 destroying things in general1 and you will feel then how the question stands between the colorists and chiaroscurists1--which of them have nature and life on their side1 and which have sin and death4 #bd4 ,finally3 the ascertainment of the sanctity of color is not left to human sagacity4 ,it is distinctly stated in ,scripture4 ,i have before alluded to the sacred chord of color 7blue1 purple1 and scarlet1 with white and gold7 as appointed in the ,tabernacle2 this chord is the fixed base of all coloring with the workmen of every great age2 the purple and scarlet will be found constantly employed by noble painters1 in various unison1 to the exclusion in general of pure crimson2--it is the harmony described by ,herodotus as used in the battlements of ,ecbatana1 and the invariable base of all beautiful missal-painting2 the mistake continually made by modern restorers1 in supposing the purple to be a faded crimson1 and substituting full crimson for it1 being instantly fatal to the whole work1 as1 indeed1 the slightest modification of any hue in a perfect color-harmony must always be4#bb ,in this chord the scarlet is the powerful color1 and is on the whole the most perfect representation of abstract color which exists2 blue being in a certain degree associated with shade1 yellow with light1 and scarlet1 as absolute color1 standing alone4 ,accordingly1 we find it used1 together with cedar wood1 hyssop1 and running water1 as an emblem of purification1 in ,leviticus xiv4 #d1 and other places1 and so used not merely as the representative of the color of blood1 since it was also to be dipped in the actual blood of a living bird4 ,so that the cedar wood for its perfume1 the hyssop for its searchingness1 the water for its cleansing1 and the scarlet for its kindling or enlightening1 are all used as tokens of sanctification2#bc and it cannot be with any force alleged1 in opposition to this definite appointment1 that scarlet is used incidentally to illustrate the stain of sin1--though thy sins be as scarlet1--any more than it could be received as a diminution of the authority for using snow-whiteness as a type of purity1 that ,gehazi's leprosy is described as being as white as snow4 ,an incidental image has no authoritative meaning1 but a stated ceremonial appointment has2 besides1 we have the reversed image given distinctly in ,prov4 xxxi43 ,she is not afraid of the snow for her household1 for all her household are clothed with scarlet4 ,and1 again3 ,ye daughters of ,israel1 weep over ,saul1 who clothed you in scarlet1 with other delights4 ,so1 also1 the arraying of the mystic ,babylon in purple and scarlet may be interpreted exactly as we choose2 either1 by those who think color sensual1 as an image of earthly pomp and guilt1 or1 by those who think it sacred1 as an image of assumed or pretended sanctity4 ,it is possible the two meanings may be blended1 and the idea may be that the purple and fine linen of ,dives are worn in hypocritical semblance of the purple and fine linen of the high priest1 being1 nevertheless1 themselves1 in all cases typical of all beauty and purity4 ,i hope1 however1 to be able some day to enter farther into these questions with respect to the art of illumination2 meantime1 the facts bearing on our immediate subject may be briefly recapitulated4 ,all men1 completely organized and justly tempered1 enjoy color2 it is meant for the perpetual comfort and delight of the human heart2 it is richly bestowed on the highest works of creation1 and the eminent sign and seal of perfection in them2 being associated with life in the human body1 with light in the sky1 with purity and hardness in the earth1--death1 night1 and pollution of all kinds being colorless4 ,and although if form and color be brought into complete opposition1#bd so that it should be put to us as a matter of stern choice whether we should have a work of art all of form1 without color 7as an ,albert ,durer's engraving71 or all of color1 without form 7as an imitation of mother-of-pearl71 form is beyond all comparison the more precious of the two2 and in explaining the essence of objects1 form is essential1 and color more or less accidental 7compare ,chap4 v4 of the first section of ,vol4 ,i472 yet if color be introduced at all1 it is necessary that1 whatever else may be wrong1 that should be right2 just as1 though the music of a song may not be so essential to its influence as the meaning of the words1 yet if the music be given at all1 it must be right1 or its discord will spoil the words2 and it would be better1 of the two1 that the words should be indistinct1 than the notes false4 ,hence1 as ,i have said elsewhere1 the business of a painter is to paint4 ,if he can color1 he is a painter1 though he can do nothing else2 if he cannot color1 he is no painter1 though he may do everything else4 ,but it is1 in fact1 impossible1 if he can color1 but that he should be able to do more2 for a faithful study of color will always give power over form1 though the most intense study of form will give no power over color4 ,the man who can see all the greys1 and reds1 and purples in a peach1 will paint the peach rightly round1 and rightly altogether2 but the man who has only studied its roundness1 may not see its purples and greys1 and if he does not1 will never get it to look like a peach2 so that great power over color is always a sign of large general art-intellect4 ,expression of the most subtle kind can be often reached by the slight studies of caricaturists2#be sometimes elaborated by the toil of the dull1 and sometimes by the sentiment of the feeble1 but to color well requires real talent and earnest study1 and to color perfectly is the rarest and most precious power an artist can possess4 ,every other gift may be erroneously cultivated1 but this will guide to all healthy1 natural1 and forcible truth2 the student may be led into folly by philosophers1 and into falsehood by purists2 but he is always safe if he holds the hand of a colorist4 ,,footnotes #ac ,part ,,ii4 ,sec4 ,,ii4 ,chap ,i4 #ad ,part ,,iii4 ,sec4 ,i4 ,chap4 ,v4 #ae ,light from above is the same thing with reference to our present inquiry4 #af ,for which reason1 ,i said in the ,appendix to the third volume1 that the expression finite realization of infinity was a considerably less rational one than black realization of white4 #ag ,the color1 but not the form4 ,i wanted the contour of the top of the ,breven for reference in another place1 and have therefore given it instead of that of the ,bouchard1 but in the proper depth of tint4 #ah ,even here we shall be defeated by ,nature1 her utmost darkness being deeper than ours4 ,see ,part ,,ii4 ,sec4 ,,ii4 ,chap4 ,i4 #d-g4 etc4 #ai ,when the clouds are brilliantly lighted1 it may rather be1 as stated in #d4 above1 in the proportion of #afj to #dj4 ,i take the number #ajj as more calculable4 #bj ,it is often extremely difficult to distinguish properly between the ,leonardesque manner1 in which local color is denied altogether1 and the ,turneresque1 in which local color at its highest point in the picture is merged in whiteness4 ,thus1 ,albert ,durer's noble ,melancholia is entirely ,leonardesque2 the leaves on her head1 her flesh1 her wings1 her dress1 the wolf1 the wooden ball1 and the rainbow1 being all equally white on the high lights4 ,but my drawing of leaves1 facing page #abj1 ,vol4 ,,iii41 is ,turneresque2 because1 though ,i leave pure white to represent the pale green of leaves and grass in high light1 ,i give definite increase of darkness to four of the bramble leaves1 which1 in reality1 were purple1 and leave a dark withered stalk nearly black1 though it is in light1 where it crosses the leaf in the centre4 ,these distinctions could only be properly explained by a lengthy series of examples2 which ,i hope to give some day or other1 but have not space for here4 #ba ,it is notable1 however1 that nearly all the poisonous agarics are scarlet or speckled1 and wholesome ones brown or gray1 as if to show us that things rising out of darkness and decay are always most deadly when they are well drest4 #bb ,hence the intense absurdity of endeavoring to restore the color of ancient buildings by the hands of ignorant colorists1 as at the ,crystal ,palace4 #bc ,the redeemed ,rahab bound for a sign a scarlet thread in the window4 ,compare ,canticles iv4 #c4 #bd ,the inconsistency between perfections of color and form1 which ,i have had to insist upon in other places1 is exactly like that between articulation and harmony4 ,we cannot have the richest harmony with the sharpest and most audible articulation of words3 yet good singers will articulate clearly3 and the perfect study of the science of music will conduct to a fine articulation2 but the study of pronunciation will not conduct to1 nor involve1 that of harmony4 ,so1 also1 though1 as said farther on1 subtle expression can be got without color1 perfect expression never can2 for the color of the face is a part of its expression4 ,how often has that scene between ,francesca di ,rimini and her lover been vainly attempted by sculptors1 simply because they did not observe that the main note of expression in it was in the fair sheet-lightning--fading and flaming through the cloud of passion6 ,per pi flate gli occhi ci sospinse ,quella lettura1 e scolorocci il viso4 ,and1 of course1 in landscape1 color is the principal source of expression4 ,take one melancholy chord from the close of ,crabbe's ,patron3 ,cold grew the foggy morn2 the day was brief1 ,loose on the cherry hung the crimson leaf4 ,the dew dwelt ever on the herb2 the woods ,roared with strong blasts2 with mighty showers1 the floods ,all green was vanished1 save of pine and yew ,that still displayed their melancholy hue2 ,save the green holly1 with its berries red ,and the green moss that o'er the gravel spread4 #be ,see ,appendix #a4 ,modern ,grotesque4 ,,chapter ,,iv4 ,,of ,,turnerian ,,mystery3--,,first1 ,,as ,,essential4 #a4 ,in the preceding chapters we have shown the nature of ,turner's art2 first1 as respected sympathy with his subject2 next1 as respected fidelity in local detail2 and thirdly1 as respected principles of color4 ,we have now finally to confirm what in various places has been said respecting his principles of delineation1 or that mysterious and apparently uncertain execution by which he is distinguished from most other painters4 ,in ,chap4 ,,iii4 #ag of the preceding volume we concluded generally that all great drawing was distinct drawing2 but with reference1 nevertheless1 to a certain sort of indistinctness1 necessary to the highest art1 and afterwards to be explained4 ,and the inquiry into this seeming contradiction has1 ,i trust1 been made somewhat more interesting by what we saw respecting modern art in the fourth paragraph of ,chap4 ,,xvi41 namely1 that it was distinguished from old art eminently by indistinctness1 and by its idle omission of details for the sake of general effect4 ,perhaps also1 of all modern artists1 ,turner is the one to whom most people would first look as the great representative of this nineteenth century cloudiness1 and ingenious speaking concerning smoke2 every one of his compositions being evidently dictated by a delight in seeing only a part of things rather than the whole1 and in casting clouds and mist around them rather than unveiling them4 #b4 ,and as the head of modern mystery1 all the ranks of the best ancient1 and of even a very important and notable division of modern authority1 seem to be arrayed against him4 ,as we saw in preceding chapters1 every great man was definite until the seventeenth century4 ,john ,bellini1 ,leonardo1 ,angelico1 ,durer1 ,perugino1 ,raphael1--all of them hated fog1 and repudiated indignantly all manner of concealment4 ,clear1 calm1 placid1 perpetual vision1 far and near2 endless perspicuity of space2 unfatigued veracity of eternal light2 perfectly accurate delineation of every leaf on the trees1 every flower in the fields1 every golden thread in the dresses of the figures1 up to the highest point of calm brilliancy which was penetrable to the eye1 or possible to the pencil1--these were their glory4 ,on the other--the entirely mysterious--side1 we have only sullen and sombre ,rembrandt2 desperate ,salvator2 filmy1 futile ,claude2 occasionally some countenance from ,correggio and ,titian1 and a careless condescension or two from ,tintoret1#bf--not by any means a balanced weight of authority4 ,then1 even in modern times1 putting ,turner 7who is at present the prisoner at the bar7 out of the question1 we have1 in landscape1 ,stanfield and ,harding as definers1 against ,copley ,fielding and ,robson on the side of the clouds2#bg ,mulready and ,wilkie against ,etty1--even ,etty being not so much misty in conception as vague in execution1 and not1 therefore1 quite legitimately to be claimed on the foggy side2 while1 finally1 the whole body of the ,pre-,raphaelites--certainly the greatest men1 taken as a class1 whom modern ,europe has produced in concernment with the arts--entirely agree with the elder religious painters1 and do1 to their utmost1 dwell in an element of light and declaration1 in antagonism to all mist and deception4 ,truly1 the clouds seem to be getting much the worst of it2 and ,i feel1 for the moment1 as if nothing could be said for them4 ,however1 having been myself long a cloud-worshipper1 and passed many hours of life in the pursuit of them from crag to crag1 ,i must consider what can possibly be submitted in their defence1 and in ,turner's4 #c4 ,the first and principal thing to be submitted is1 that the clouds are there4 ,whether we like them or not1 it is a fact that by far the largest spaces of the habitable world are full of them4 ,that is ,nature's will in the matter2 and whatever we may theoretically determine to be expedient or beautiful1 she has long ago determined what shall be4 ,we may declare that clear horizons and blue skies form the most exalted scenery2 but for all that1 the bed of the river in the morning will still be traced by its line of white mist1 and the mountain peaks will be seen at evening only in the rents between their blue fragments of towering cloud4 ,thus it is1 and that so constantly1 that it is impossible to become a faithful landscape painter without continually getting involved in effects of this kind4 ,we may1 indeed1 avoid them systematically1 but shall become narrow mannerists if we do4 #d4 ,but not only is there a partial and variable mystery thus caused by clouds and vapors throughout great spaces of landscape2 there is a continual mystery caused throughout all spaces1 caused by the absolute infinity of things4 ,,we ,,never ,,see ,,anything ,,clearly4 ,i stated this fact partly in the chapter on ,truth of ,space1 in the first volume1 but not with sufficient illustration1 so that the reader might by that chapter have been led to infer that the mystery spoken of belonged to some special distance of the landscape1 whereas the fact is1 that everything we look at1 be it large or small1 near or distant1 has an equal quantity of mystery in it2 and the only question is1 not how much mystery there is1 but at what part of the object mystification begins4 ,we suppose we see the ground under our feet clearly1 but if we try to number its grains of dust1 we shall find that it is as full of confusion and doubtful form as anything else2 so that there is literally no point of clear sight1 and there never can be4 ,what we call seeing a thing clearly1 is only seeing enough of it to make out what it is2 this point of intelligibility varying in distance for different magnitudes and kinds of things1 while the appointed quantity of mystery remains nearly the same for all4 ,thus3 throwing an open book and an embroidered handkerchief on a lawn1 at a distance of half a mile we cannot tell which is which2 that is the point of mystery for the whole of those things4 ,they are then merely white spots of indistinct shape4 ,we approach them1 and perceive that one is a book1 the other a handkerchief1 but cannot read the one1 nor trace the embroidery of the other4 ,the mystery has ceased to be in the whole things1 and has gone into their details4 ,we go nearer1 and can now read the text and trace the embroidery1 but cannot see the fibres of the paper1 nor the threads of the stuff4 ,the mystery has gone into a third place4 ,we take both up and look closely at them2 we see the watermark and the threads1 but not the hills and dales in the paper's surface1 nor the fine fibres which shoot off from every thread4 ,the mystery has gone into a fourth place1 where it must stay1 till we take a microscope1 which will send it into a fifth1 sixth1 hundredth1 or thousandth place1 according to the power we use4 ,when1 therefore1 we say1 we see the book clearly1 we mean only that we know it is a book4 ,when we say that we see the letters clearly1 we mean that we know what letters they are2 and artists feel that they are drawing objects at a convenient distance when they are so near them as to know1 and to be able in painting to show that they know1 what the objects are1 in a tolerably complete manner2 but this power does not depend on any definite distance of the object1 but on its size1 kind1 and distance1 together2 so that a small thing in the foreground may be precisely in the same phase or place of mystery as a large thing far away4 #e4 ,the other day1 as ,i was lying down to rest on the side of the hill round which the ,rhone sweeps in its main angle1 opposite ,martigny1 and looking carefully across the valley to the ridge of the hill which rises above ,martigny itself1 then distant about four miles1 a plantain seed-vessel about an inch long1 and a withered head of a scabious half an inch broad1 happened to be seen rising up1 out of the grass near me1 across the outline of the distant hill1 so as seemingly to set themselves closely beside the large pines and chestnuts which fringed that distant ridge4 ,the plantain was eight yards from me1 and the scabious seven2 and to my sight1 at these distances1 the plantain and the far away pines were equally clear 7it being a clear day1 and the sun stooping to the west74 ,the pines1 four miles off1 showed their branches1 but ,i could not count them2 and two or three young and old ,spanish chestnuts beside them showed their broken masses distinctly2 but ,i could not count those masses1 only ,i knew the trees to be chestnuts by their general look4 ,the plantain and scabious in like manner ,i knew to be a plantain and scabious by their general look4 ,i saw the plantain seed-vessel to be1 somehow1 rough1 and that there were two little projections at the bottom of the scabious head which ,i knew to mean the leaves of the calyx2 but ,i could no more count distinctly the seeds of the plantain1 or the group of leaves forming the calyx of the scabious1 than ,i could count the branches of the far-away pines4 #f4 ,under these circumstances1 it is quite evident that neither the pine nor plantain could have been rightly represented by a single dot or stroke of color4 ,still less could they be represented by a definite drawing1 on a small scale1 of a pine with all its branches clear1 or of a plantain with all its seeds clear4 ,the round dot or long stroke would represent nothing1 and the clear delineation too much4 ,they were not mere dots of color which ,i saw on the hill1 but something full of essence of pine2 out of which ,i could gather which were young and which were old1 and discern the distorted and crabbed pines from the symmetrical and healthy pines2 and feel how the evening sun was sending its searching threads among their dark leaves2--assuredly they were more than dots of color4 ,and yet not one of their boughs or outlines could be distinctly made out1 or distinctly drawn4 ,therefore1 if ,i had drawn either a definite pine1 or a dot1 ,i should have been equally wrong1 the right lying in an inexplicable1 almost inimitable1 confusion between the two4 #g4 ,but is this only the case with pines four miles away1 and with plantains eight yards8 ,not so4 ,everything in the field of sight is equally puzzling1 and can only be drawn rightly on the same difficult conditions4 ,try it fairly4 ,take the commonest1 closest1 most familiar thing1 and strive to draw it verily as you see it4 ,be sure of this last fact1 for otherwise you will find yourself continually drawing1 not what you see1 but what you know4 ,the best practice to begin with is1 sitting about three yards1 from a bookcase 7not your own1 so that you may know none of the titles of the books71 to try to draw the books accurately1 with the titles on the backs1 and patterns on the bindings1 as you see them4 ,you are not to stir from your place to look what they are1 but to draw them simply as they appear1 giving the perfect look of neat lettering2 which1 nevertheless1 must be 7as you find it on most of the books7 absolutely illegible4 ,next try to draw a piece of patterned muslin or lace 7of which you do not know the pattern71 a little way off1 and rather in the shade2 and be sure you get all the grace and look of the pattern without going a step nearer to see what it is4 ,then try to draw a bank of grass1 with all its blades2 or a bush1 with all its leaves2 and you will soon begin to understand under what a universal law of obscurity we live1 and perceive that all distinct drawing must be bad drawing1 and that nothing can be right1 till it is unintelligible4 #h4 ,how6 and ,pre-,raphaelitism and ,durerism1 and all that you have been talking to us about for these five hundred pages6 ,well1 it is all right2 ,pre-,raphaelitism is quite as unintelligible as need be 7,i will answer for ,durerism farther on74 ,examine your ,pre-,raphaelite painting well1 and you will find it is the precise fulfilment of these laws4 ,you can make out your plantain head and your pine1 and see entirely what they are2 but yet they are full of mystery1 and suggest more than you can see4 ,so also with ,turner1 the true head of ,pre-,raphaelitism4 ,you shall see the spots of the trout lying dead on the rock in his foreground1 but not count them4 ,it is only the ,germans and the so-called masters of drawing and defining that are wrong1 not the ,pre-,raphaelites4#bh ,not1 that is to say1 so far as it is possible to be right4 ,no human skill can get the absolute truth in this matter2 but a drawing by ,turner of a large scene1 and by ,holman ,hunt of a small one1 are as close to truth as human eyes and hands can reach4 #i4 ,well1 but how of ,veronese and all the firm1 fearless draughtsmen of days gone by8 ,they are indeed firm and fearless1 but they are all mysterious4 ,not one great man of them1 but he will puzzle you1 if you look close1 to know what he means4 ,distinct enough1 as to his general intent1 indeed1 just as ,nature is distinct in her general intent2 but examine his touches1 and you will find in ,veronese1 in ,titian1 in ,tintoret1 in ,correggio1 and in all the great painters1 properly so called1 a peculiar melting and mystery about the pencilling1 sometimes called softness1 sometimes freedom1 sometimes breadth2 but in reality a most subtle confusion of colors and forms1 obtained either by the apparently careless stroke of the brush1 or by careful retouching with tenderest labor2 but always obtained in one way or another3 so that though1 when compared with work that has no meaning1 all great work is distinct1--compared with work that has narrow and stubborn meaning1 all great work is indistinct2 and if we find1 on examining any picture closely1 that it is all clearly to be made out1 it cannot be1 as painting1 first-rate4 ,there is no exception to this rule4 ,,excellence ,,of ,,the ,,highest ,,kind1 ,,without ,,obscurity1 ,,cannot ,,exist4 #aj4 ,but you said that all authority was against ,turner1--,titian's and ,veronese's1 as well as that of the older painters4 ,yes1 as regards his choice of misty or foggy subject1 it is so2 but in this matter of mere execution1 all the great painters are with him1 though at first he seems to differ from them1 on account of that choice of foggy subject2 and because1 instead of painting things under circumstances when their general character is to be discerned at once 7as ,veronese paints human figures close to us and the size of life71 he is always painting things twenty and thirty miles away1 reduced to unintelligible and eccentric shades4 #aa4 ,but how1 then1 of this foggy choice2 can that be right in itself8 ,that we will discuss in the next chapter3 let us keep at present to the question of execution4 ,keeping to that question1 why is it that a photograph always looks clear and sharp1--not at all like a ,turner8 ,photographs never look entirely clear and sharp2 but because clearness is supposed a merit in them1 they are usually taken from very clearly marked and un-,turnerian subjects2 and such results as are misty and faint1 though often precisely those which contain the most subtle renderings of nature1 are thrown away1 and the clear ones only are preserved4 ,those clear ones depend for much of their force on the faults of the process4 ,photography either exaggerates shadows1 or loses detail in the lights1 and1 in many ways which ,i do not here pause to explain1 misses certain of the utmost subtleties of natural effect 7which are often the things that ,turner has chiefly aimed at17 while it renders subtleties of form which no human hand could achieve4 ,but a delicately taken photograph of a truly ,turnerian subject1 is far more like ,turner in the drawing than it is to the work of any other artist2 though1 in the system of chiaroscuro1 being entirely and necessarily ,rembrandtesque1 the subtle mystery of the touch 7,turnerism carried to an infinitely wrought refinement7 is not usually perceived4 #ab4 ,but how of ,van ,eyck1 and ,albert ,durer1 and all the clear early men8 ,so far as they are quite clear1 they are imperfect1 and knowingly imperfect1 if considered as painters of real appearances2 but by means of this very imperfection or conventionalism1 they often give certain facts which are more necessary to their purpose than these outward appearances4 ,for instance1 in ,fig4 #b of ,plate #be1 facing page #cb1 ,i requested ,mr4 ,le ,keux to facsimile1 as far as might be1 the look of the daguerreotype2 and he has admirably done so4 ,but if ,albert ,durer had drawn the wall between those towers1 he would have represented it with all its facts distinctly revealed1 as in ,fig4 #a2 and in many respects this clear statement is precious1 though1 so far as regards ocular truth1 it is not natural4 ,a modern sketcher of the bold school would represent the tower as in ,fig4 #c2 that is to say1 in a manner just as trenchant and firm1 and therefore ocularly false1 as ,durer's2 but1 in all probability1 which involved entireness of fallacy or ignorance as to the wall facts2 rendering the work nearly valueless2 or valuable only in color or composition2 not as draughtsmanship4 ,of this we shall have more to say presently1 here we may rest satisfied with the conclusion that to a perfectly great manner of painting1 or to entirely finished work1 a certain degree of indistinctness is indispensable4 ,as all subjects have a mystery in them1 so all drawing must have a mystery in it2 and from the nearest object to the most distant1 if we can quite make out what the artist would be at1 there is something wrong4 ,the strokes of paint1 examined closely1 must be confused1 odd1 incomprehensible2 having neither beginning nor end1--melting into each other1 or straggling over each other1 or going wrong and coming right again1 or fading away altogether2 and if we can make anything of them quite out1 that part of the drawing is wrong1 or incomplete4 #ac4 ,only1 observe1 the method by which the confusion is obtained may vary considerably according to the distance and scale of the picture itself2 for very curious effects are produced upon all paintings by the distance of the eye from them4 ,one of these is the giving a certain softness to all colors1 so that hues which would look coarse or bald if seen near1 may sometimes safely be left1 and are left1 by the great workmen in their large works1 to be corrected by the kind of bloom which the distance of thirty or forty feet sheds over them4 ,i say1 sometimes1 because this optical effect is a very subtle one1 and seems to take place chiefly on certain colors1 dead fresco colors especially2 also the practice of the great workmen is very different1 and seems much to be regulated by the time at their disposal4 ,tintoret's picture of ,paradise1 with #ejj figures in it1 adapted to a supposed distance of from fifty to a hundred feet1 is yet colored so tenderly that the nearer it is approached the better it looks2 nor is it at all certain that the color which is wrong near1 will look right a little way off1 or even a great way off3 ,i have never seen any of our ,academy portraits made to look like ,titians by being hung above the line3 still1 distance does produce a definite effect on pictorial color1 and in general an improving one4 ,it also deepens the relative power of all strokes and shadows4 ,a touch of shade which1 seen near1 is all but invisible1 and1 as far as effect on the picture is concerned1 quite powerless1 will be found1 a little way off1 to tell as a definite shadow1 and to have a notable result on all that is near it2 and so markedly is this the case1 that in all fine and first-rate drawing there are many passages in which if we see the touches we are putting on1 we are doing too much2 they must be put on by the feeling of the hand only1 and have their effect on the eye when seen in unison1 a little way off4 ,this seems strange2 but ,i believe the reason of it is1 that1 seen at some distance1 the parts of the touch or touches are gathered together1 and their relations truly shown2 while1 seen near1 they are scattered and confused4 ,on a large scale1 and in common things1 the phenomenon is of constant occurrence2 the dirt bands on a glacier1 for instance1 are not to be counted on the glacier itself1 and yet their appearance is truly stated by ,professor ,forbes to be one of great importance1 though from the two circumstances of being best seen at a distance1 or considerable height1 and in a feeble or slanting light1 it had very naturally been overlooked both by myself and others1 like what are called blind paths over moors1 visible at a distance1 but lost when we stand upon them4#bi #ad4 ,not only1 however1 does this take place in a picture very notably1 so that a group of touches will tell as a compact and intelligible mass1 a little way off1 though confused when seen near2 but also a dark touch gains at a little distance in apparent darkness1 a light touch in apparent light1 and a colored touch in apparent color1 to a degree inconceivable by an unpractised person2 so that literally1 a good painter is obliged1 working near his picture1 to do in everything only about half of what he wants1 the rest being done by the distance4 ,and if the effect1 at such distance1 is to be of confusion1 then sometimes seen near1 the work must be a confusion worse confounded1 almost utterly unintelligible2 hence the amazement and blank wonder of the public at some of the finest passages of ,turner1 which look like a mere meaningless and disorderly work of chance2 but1 rightly understood1 are preparations for a given result1 like the most subtle moves of a game of chess1 of which no bystander can for a long time see the intention1 but which are1 in dim1 underhand1 wonderful way1 bringing out their foreseen and inevitable result4 #ae4 ,and1 be it observed1 no other means would have brought out that result4 ,every distance and size of picture has its own proper method of work2 the artist will necessarily vary that method somewhat according to circumstances and expectations3 he may sometimes finish in a way fitted for close observation1 to please his patron1 or catch the public eye2 and sometimes be tempted into such finish by his zeal1 or betrayed into it by forgetfulness1 as ,i think ,tintoret has been1 slightly1 in his ,paradise1 above mentioned4 ,but there never yet was a picture thoroughly effective at a distance1 which did not look more or less unintelligible near4 ,things which in distant effect are folds of dress1 seen near are only two or three grains of golden color set there apparently by chance2 what far off is a solid limb2 near is a grey shade with a misty outline1 so broken that it is not easy to find its boundary2 and what far off may perhaps be a man's face1 near1 is only a piece of thin brown color1 enclosed by a single flowing wave of a brush loaded with white1 while three brown touches across one edge of it1 ten feet away1 become a mouth and eyes4 ,the more subtle the power of the artist1 the more curious the difference will be between the apparent means and the effect produced2 and one of the most sublime feelings connected with art consists in the perception of this very strangeness1 and in a sympathy with the foreseeing and foreordaining power of the artist4 ,in ,turner1 ,tintoret1 and ,paul ,veronese1 the intenseness of perception1 first1 as to what is to be done1 and then1 of the means of doing it1 is so colossal1 that ,i always feel in the presence of their pictures just as other people would in that of a supernatural being4 ,common talkers use the word magic of a great painter's power without knowing what they mean by it4 ,they mean a great truth4 ,that power is magical2 so magical1 that1 well understood1 no enchanter's work could be more miraculous or more appalling2 and though ,i am not often kept from saying things by timidity1 ,i should be afraid of offending the reader1 if ,i were to define to him accurately the kind and the degree of awe1 with which ,i have stood before ,tintoret's ,adoration of the ,magi1 at ,venice1 and ,veronese's ,marriage in ,cana1 in the ,louvre4 #af4 ,it will now1 ,i hope1 be understood how easy it is for dull artists to mistake the mystery of great masters for carelessness1 and their subtle concealment of intention for want of intention4 ,for one person who can perceive the delicacy1 invention1 and veracity of ,tintoret or ,reynolds#cj there are thousands who can perceive the dash of the brush and the confusion of the color4 ,they suppose that the merit consists in dash and confusion1 and that they may easily rival ,reynolds by being unintelligible1 and ,tintoret by being impetuous4 ,but ,i assure them1 very seriously1 that obscurity is not always admirable1 nor impetuosity always right2 that disorder does not necessarily imply discretion1 nor haste1 security4 ,it is sometimes difficult to understand the words of a deep thinker2 but it is equally difficult to understand an idiot2 and young students will find it1 on the whole1 the best thing they can do to strive to be clear2#ca not affectedly clear1 but manfully and firmly4 ,mean something1 and say something1 whenever you touch canvas2 yield neither to the affectation of precision nor of speed1 and trust to time1 and your honest labor1 to invest your work gradually1 in such measure and kind as your genius can reach1 with the tenderness that comes of love1 and the mystery that comes of power4 ,,footnotes #bf ,in the clouds around ,mount ,sinai1 in the picture of the ,golden ,calf2 the smoke turning into angels1 in the ,cenacolo in ,san ,giorgio ,maggiore2 and several other such instances4 #bg ,stanfield ,i call a definer1 as opposed to ,copley ,fielding1 because1 though1 like all other moderns1 he paints cloud and storm1 he will generally paint all the masts and yards of a ship1 rather than merely her black bows glooming through the foam2 and all the rocks on a hill side1 rather than the blue outline of the hill through the mist4 #bh ,compare1 if at hand1 my letter in the ,times of the #eth of ,may1 #ahed1 on ,hunt's ,light of the ,world4 ,i extract the passage bearing chiefly on the point in question4 ,as far as regards the technical qualities of ,mr4 ,hunt's painting1 ,i would only ask the spectator to observe this difference between true ,pre-,raphaelite work and its imitations4 ,the true work represents all objects exactly as they would appear in nature1 in the position and at the distances which the arrangement of the picture supposes4 ,the false work represents them with all their details1 as if seen through a microscope4 ,examine closely the ivy on the door in ,mr4 ,hunt's picture1 and there will not be found in it a single clear outline4 ,all is the most exquisite mystery of color2 becoming reality at its due distance4 ,in like manner1 examine the small gems on the robe of the figure4 ,not one will be made out in form1 and yet there is not one of all those minute points of green color1 but it has two or three distinctly varied shades of green in it1 giving its mysterious value and lustre4 ,the spurious imitations of ,pre-,raphaelite work represent the most minute leaves and other objects with sharp outlines1 but with no variety of color1 and with none of the concealment1 none of the infinity of nature4 #bi ,travels through the ,alps1 chap4 viii4 #cj ,reynolds is usually admired for his dash and speed4 ,his true merit is in an ineffable subtlety combined with his speed4 ,the tenderness of some of ,reynolds' touches is quite beyond telling4 #ca ,especially in distinction of species of things4 ,it may be doubtful whether in a great picture we are to represent the bloom upon a grape1 but never doubtful that we are to paint a grape so as to be known from a cherry4 ,,chapter ,v4 ,,of ,,turnerian ,,mystery3--,,secondly1 ,,wilful4 #a4 ,in the preceding chapter we were concerned only with the mystery necessary in all great art4 ,we have yet to inquire into the nature of that more special love of concealment in which ,turner is the leading representative of modern cloud-worship2 causing ,dr4 ,waagen sapiently to remark that he had here succeeded in combining a crude painted medley with a general foggy appearance4#cb ,as1 for defence of his universal indistinctness1 my appeal was in the last chapter to universal fact1 so1 for defence of this special indistinctness1 my first appeal is in this chapter to special fact4 ,an ,english painter justifiably loves fog1 because he is born in a foggy country2 as an ,italian painter justifiably loves clearness1 because he is born in a comparatively clear country4 ,i have heard a traveller familiar with the ,east complain of the effect in a picture of ,copley ,fielding's1 that it was such very bad weather4 ,but it ought not to be bad weather to the ,english4 ,our green country depends for its life on those kindly rains and floating swirls of cloud2 we ought1 therefore1 to love them and to paint them4 #b4 ,but there is no need to rest my defence on this narrow ,english ground4 ,the fact is1 that though the climates of the ,south and ,east may be comparatively clear1 they are no more absolutely clear than our own northern air2 and that wherever a landscape-painter is placed1 if he paints faithfully1 he will have continually to paint effects of mist4 ,intense clearness1 whether in the ,north after or before rain1 or in some moments of twilight in the ,south1 is always1 as far as ,i am acquainted with natural phenomena1 a notable thing4 ,mist of some sort1 or mirage1 or confusion of light1 or of cloud1 are the general facts2 the distance may vary in different climates at which the effects of mist begin1 but they are always present2 and therefore1 in all probability it is meant that we should enjoy them4 #c4 ,nor does it seem to me in any wise difficult to understand why they should be thus appointed for enjoyment4 ,in former parts of this work we were able to trace a certain delightfulness in every visible feature of natural things which was typical of any great spiritual truth2 surely1 therefore1 we need not wonder now1 that mist and all its phenomena have been made delightful to us1 since our happiness as thinking beings must depend on our being content to accept only partial knowledge1 even in those matters which chiefly concern us4 ,if we insist upon perfect intelligibility and complete declaration in every moral subject1 we shall instantly fall into misery of unbelief4 ,our whole happiness and power of energetic action depend upon our being able to breathe and live in the cloud2 content to see it opening here and closing there2 rejoicing to catch1 through the thinnest films of it1 glimpses of stable and substantial things2 but yet perceiving a nobleness even in the concealment1 and rejoicing that the kindly veil is spread where the untempered light might have scorched us1 or the infinite clearness wearied4 #d4 ,and ,i believe that the resentment of this interference of the mist is one of the forms of proud error which are too easily mistaken for virtues4 ,to be content in utter darkness and ignorance is indeed unmanly1 and therefore we think that to love light and seek knowledge must always be right4 ,yet 7as in all matters before observed17 wherever pride has any share in the work1 even knowledge and light may be ill pursued4 ,knowledge is good1 and light is good1 yet man perished in seeking knowledge1 and moths perished in seeking light2 and if we1 who are crushed before the moth1 will not accept such mystery as is needful for us1 we shall perish in like manner4 ,but1 accepted in humbleness1 it instantly becomes an element of pleasure2 and ,i think that every rightly constituted mind ought to rejoice1 not so much in knowing anything clearly1 as in feeling that there is infinitely more which it cannot know4 ,none but proud or weak men would mourn over this1 for we may always know more if we choose1 by working on2 but the pleasure is1 ,i think1 to humble people1 in knowing that the journey is endless1 the treasure inexhaustible1--watching the cloud still march before them with its summitless pillar1 and being sure that1 to the end of time and to the length of eternity1 the mysteries of its infinity will still open farther and farther1 their dimness being the sign and necessary adjunct of their inexhaustibleness4 ,i know there are an evil mystery and a deathful dimness1--the mystery of the great ,babylon--the dimness of the sealed eye and soul2 but do not let us confuse these with the glorious mystery of the things which the angels desire to look into1 or with the dimness which1 even before the clear eye and open soul1 still rests on sealed pages of the eternal volume4 #e4 ,and going down from this great truth to the lower truths which are types of it in smaller matters1 we shall find1 that as soon as people try honestly to see all they can of anything1 they come to a point where a noble dimness begins4 ,they see more than others2 but the consequence of their seeing more is1 that they feel they cannot see all2 and the more intense their perception1 the more the crowd of things which they partly see will multiply upon them2 and their delight may at last principally consist in dwelling on this cloudy part of their prospect1 somewhat casting away or aside what to them has become comparatively common1 but is perhaps the sum and substance of all that other people see in the thing1 for the utmost subtleties and shadows and glancings of it cannot be caught but by the most practised vision4 ,and as a delicate ear rejoices in the slighter and more modulated passages of sound which to a blunt ear are utterly monotonous in their quietness1 or unintelligible in their complication1 so1 when the eye is exquisitely keen and clear1 it is fain to rest on grey films of shade1 and wandering rays of light1 and intricacies of tender form1 passing over hastily1 as unworthy or commonplace1 what to a less educated sense appears the whole of the subject4#cc ,in painting1 this progress of the eye is marked always by one consistent sign--its sensibility1 namely1 to effects of gradation in light and color1 and habit of looking for them1 rather even than for the signs of the essence of the subject4 ,it will1 indeed1 see more of that essence than is seen by other eyes2 and its choice of the points to be seized upon will be always regulated by that special sympathy which we have above examined as the motive of the ,turnerian picturesque2 but yet1 the more it is cultivated1 the more of light and color it will perceive1 the less of substance4 ,illustration3 ,j4 ,ruskin4 #a #b #c #d #bf4 ,the ,law of ,evanescence4 #f4 ,thus1 when the eye is quite uncultivated1 it sees that a man is a man1 and a face is a face1 but has no idea what shadows or lights fall upon the form or features4 ,cultivate it to some degree of artistic power1 and it will then see shadows distinctly1 but only the more vigorous of them4 ,cultivate it still farther1 and it will see light within light1 and shadow within shadow1 and will continually refuse to rest in what it had already discovered1 that it may pursue what is more removed and more subtle1 until at last it comes to give its chief attention and display its chief power on gradations which to an untrained faculty are partly matters of indifference1 and partly imperceptible4 ,that these subtle gradations have indeed become matters of primal importance to it1 may be ascertained by observing that they are the things it will last part with1 as the object retires into distance2 and that1 though this distance may become so great as to render the real nature of the object quite undiscernible1 the gradations of light upon it will not be lost4 #g4 ,for instance1 ,fig4 #a1 on the opposite page1 ,plate #bf1 is a tolerably faithful rendering of the look of a wall tower of a ,swiss town as it would be seen within some hundred yards of it4 ,fig4 #b is 7as nearly as ,i can render it7 a facsimile of ,turner's actual drawing of this tower1 at a presumed distance of about half a mile4 ,it has far less of intelligible delineation1 either of windows1 cornices1 or tiles2 but intense care has still been given to get the pearly roundness of the side1 and the exact relations of all the tones of shade4 ,and now1 if ,turner wants to remove the tower still farther back1 he will gradually let the windows and stones all disappear together1 before he will quit his shadows and delicately centralized rays4 ,at ,fig4 #c the tower is nearly gone1 but the pearly roundness of it and principal lights of it are there still4 ,at ,fig4 #d 7,turner's ultimate condition in distance7 the essence of the thing is quite unintelligible2 we cannot answer for its being a tower at all4 ,but the gradations of light are still there1 and as much pains have been taken to get them as in any of the other instances4 ,a vulgar artist would have kept something of the form of the tower1 expressing it by a few touches2 and people would call it a clever drawing4 ,turner lets the tower melt into air1 but still he works half an hour or so over those delicate last gradations1 which perhaps not many people in ,england besides himself can fully see1 as not many people can understand the final work of a great mathematician4 ,i assume1 of course1 in this example1 that the tower1 as it grows less and less distinct1 becomes part of the subject of a larger picture4 ,fig4 #a represents nearly what ,turner's treatment of it would be if it were the principal subject of a vignette2 and ,fig4 #d his treatment of it as an object in the extreme distance of a large oil picture4 ,if at the same supposed distance it entered into a smaller drawing1 so as to be much smaller in size1 he might get the gradations with less trouble1 sometimes even by a single sweep of the brush2 but some gradation would assuredly be retained1 though the tower were diminished to the height of one of the long letters of this type4 #h4 ,but is ,turner right in doing this8 ,yes4 ,the truth is indeed so4 ,if you watch any object as it fades in distance1 it will lose gradually its force1 its intelligibility1 its anatomy1 its whole comprehensible being2 but it will never lose its gradation of light4 ,up to the last moment1 what light is seen on it1 feebly glimmering and narrowed almost to a point or a line1 is still full of change4 ,one part is brighter than another1 and brighter with as lovely and tender increase as it was when nearest to us2 and at last1 though a white house ten miles away will be seen only as a small square spot of light1 its windows1 doors1 or roof1 being as utterly invisible as if they were not in existence1 the gradation of its light will not be lost2 one part of the spot will be seen to be brighter than another4 #i4 ,is there not a deep meaning in this8 ,we1 in our daily looking at the thing1 think that its own make is the most important part of it4 ,windows and porticos1 eaves and cornices1 how interesting and how useful are they6 ,surely1 the chief importance of the thing is in these4 ,no2 not in these2 but in the play of the light of heaven upon it4 ,there is a place and time when all those windows and porticos will be lost sight of2 when the only question becomes1 what light had it8 ,how much of heaven was looking upon it8 ,what were the broad relations of it1 in light and darkness1 to the sky and earth1 and all things around it8 ,it might have strange humors and ways of its own--many a rent in its wall1 and many a roughness on its roof2 or it might have many attractivenesses and noblenesses of its own--fair mouldings and gay ornaments2 but the time comes when all these are vain1 and when the slight1 wandering warmth of heaven's sunshine which the building itself felt not1 and not one eye in a thousand saw1 becomes all in all4 ,i leave the reader to follow out the analogies of this4 #aj4 ,well1 but1 it is still objected1 if this be so1 why is it necessary to insist1 as you do always1 upon the most minute and careful renderings of form8 ,because1 though these gradations of light are indeed1 as an object dies in distance1 the only things it can retain1 yet as it lives its active life near us1 those very gradations can only be seen properly by the effect they have on its character4 ,you can only show how the light affects the object1 by knowing thoroughly what the object is2 and noble mystery differs from ignoble1 in being a veil thrown between us and something definite1 known1 and substantial2 but the ignoble mystery is a veil cast before chaos1 the studious concealment of ,nothing4 #aa4 ,there is even a way in which the very definiteness of ,turner's knowledge adds to the mystery of his pictures4 ,in the course of the first volume ,i had several times occasion to insist on the singular importance of cast shadows1 and the chances of their sometimes gaining supremacy in visibility over even the things that cast them4 ,now a cast shadow is a much more curious thing than we usually suppose4 ,the strange shapes it gets into--the manner in which it stumbles over everything that comes in its way1 and frets itself into all manner of fantastic schism1 taking neither the shape of the thing that casts it1 nor of that it is cast upon1 but an extraordinary1 stretched1 flattened1 fractured1 ill-jointed anatomy of its own--cannot be imagined until one is actually engaged in shadow-hunting4 ,if any of these wayward umbr are faithfully remembered and set down by the painter1 they nearly always have an unaccountable look1 quite different from anything one would have invented or philosophically conjectured for a shadow2 and it constantly happens1 in ,turner's distances1 that such strange pieces of broken shade1 accurately remembered1 or accurately invented1 as the case may be1 cause a condition of unintelligibility1 quaint and embarrassing almost in exact proportion to the amount of truth it contains4 #ab4 ,i believe the reader must now sufficiently perceive that the right of being obscure is not one to be lightly claimed2 it can only be founded on long effort to be intelligible1 and on the present power of being intelligible to the exact degree which the nature of the thing admits4 ,nor shall we1 ,i hope1 any more have difficulty in understanding how the noble mystery and the ignoble1 though direct opposites1 are yet continually mistaken for each other--the last aping the first2 and the most wretched artists taking pride in work which is simply slurred1 slovenly1 ignorant1 empty1 and insolent1 as if it were nobly mysterious 7just as a drunkard who cannot articulate supposes himself oracular72 whereas the noble art-mystery1 as all noble language-mystery1 is reached only by intense labor4 ,striving to speak with uttermost truth of expression1 weighing word against word1 and wasting none1 the great speaker1 or writer1 toils first into perfect intelligibleness1 then1 as he reaches to higher subject1 and still more concentrated and wonderful utterance1 he becomes ambiguous--as ,dante is ambiguous1--half a dozen different meanings lightening out in separate rays from every word1 and1 here and there1 giving rise to much contention of critics as to what the intended meaning actually was4 ,but it is no drunkard's babble for all that1 and the men who think it so1 at the third hour of the day1 do not highly honor themselves in the thought4 #ac4 ,and now observe how perfectly the conclusions arrived at here consist with those of the third chapter1 and how easily we may understand the meaning of that vast weight of authority which we found at first ranged against the clouds1 and strong in arms on the side of intelligibility4 ,nearly all great men must1 for the reasons above given1 be intelligible4 ,even1 if they are to be the greatest1 still they must struggle through intelligibility to obscurity2 if of the second class1 then the best thing they can do1 all their lives through1 is to be intelligible4 ,therefore the enormous majority of all good and true men will be clear men2 and the drunkards1 sophists1 and sensualists will1 for the most part1 sink back into the fog-bank1 and remain wrapt in darkness1 unintelligibility1 and futility4 ,yet1 here and there1 once in a couple of centuries1 one man will rise past clearness1 and become dark with excess of light4 #ad4 ,well1 then1 you mean to say that the tendency of this age to general cloudiness1 as opposed to the old religious clearness of painting1 is one of degradation2 but that ,turner is this one man who has risen past clearness8 ,yes4 ,with some modifications of the saying1 ,i mean that2 but those modifications will take us a little time to express accurately4 ,for1 first1 it will not do to condemn every minor painter utterly1 the moment we see he is foggy4 ,copley ,fielding1 for instance1 was a minor painter2 but his love of obscurity in rain clouds1 and dew-mist on downs1 was genuine love1 full of sweetness and happy aspiration2 and1 in this way1 a little of the light of the higher mystery is often caught by the simplest men when they keep their hearts open4 #ae4 ,neither will it be right to set down every painter for a great man1 the moment we find he is clear2 for there is a hard and vulgar intelligibility of nothingness1 just as there is an ambiguity of nothingness4 ,and as often1 in conversation1 a man who speaks but badly and indistinctly has1 nevertheless1 got much to say2 and a man who speaks boldly and plainly may yet say what is little worth hearing2 so1 in painting1 there are men who can express themselves but blunderingly1 and yet have much in them to express2 and there are others who talk with great precision1 whose works are yet very impertinent and untrustworthy assertions4 ,sir ,joshua ,reynolds is full of fogginess and shortcomings as compared with either of the ,caraccis2 but yet one ,sir ,joshua is worth all the ,caraccis in ,europe2 and so1 in our modern water-color societies1 there are many men who define clearly enough1 all whose works1 put together1 are not worth a careless blot by ,cox or ,barrett4 #af4 ,let me give one illustration more1 which will be also of some historical usefulness in marking the relations of the clear and obscure schools4 ,we have seen1 in our investigation of ,greek landscape1 ,homer's intense love of the aspen poplar4 ,for once1 in honor of ,homer and the ,greeks1 ,i will take an aspen for the subject of comparison1 and glance at the different modes in which it would have been1 or was1 represented from the earliest to the present stage of landscape art4 ,the earliest manner which comes within our field of examination is that of the thirteenth century4 ,fig4 #a4 ,plate #bg is an aspen out of the wood in which ,absalom is slain1 from a ,psalter in my own possession1 executed1 certainly1 after the year #abej1 and before #abgb2 the other trees in the wood being1 first1 of course1 the oak in which ,absalom is caught1 and a sycamore4 ,all these trees are somewhat more conventional than is even usual at the period2 though1 for this reason1 the more characteristic as examples of earliest work4 ,there is no great botanical accuracy until some forty years later 7at least in painting72 so that ,i cannot be quite sure1 the leaf not being flat enough at the base1 that this tree is meant for an aspen3 but it is so in all probability2 and1 whether it be or not1 serves well enough to mark the definiteness and symmetry of the old art1--a symmetry which1 be it always observed1 is ,,never formal or unbroken4 ,this tree1 though it looks formal enough1 branches unequally at the top of the stem4 ,but the lowest figure in ,plate #g1 ,vol4 ,,iii4 is a better example from the ,,ms4 ,sloane1 #aige1 ,brit4 ,mus4 ,every plant in that herbarium is drawn with some approach to accuracy1 in leaf1 root1 and flower2 while yet all are subjected to the sternest conventional arrangement2 colored in almost any way that pleases the draughtsman1 and set on quaint grounds of barred color1 like bearings on shields2#cd one side of the plant always balancing the other1 but never without some transgression or escape from the law of likeness1 as in the heads of the cyclamen flower1 and several other parts of this design4 ,it might seem at first1 that the root was more carelessly drawn than the rest1 and uglier in color2 but this is in pure conscientiousness4 ,the workman knew that a root was ugly and earthy2 he would not make it ornamental and delicate4 ,he would sacrifice his pleasant colors and graceful lines at once for the radical fact2 and rather spoil his page than flatter a fibre4 ,illustration3 #a4 ,ancient1 or ,giottesque4 #d4 ,modern or ,blottesque4 #b4 ,purist4 #e4 ,constablesque4 #c4 ,turneresque4 #f4 ,hardingesque4 #bg4 ,the ,aspen1 under ,idealization4 ,illustration3 #bh4 ,aspen1 ,unidealized4 #ag4 ,here1 then1 we have the first medival condition of art1 consisting in a fenced1 but varied1 symmetry2 a perfect definiteness2 and a love of nature1 more or less interfered with by conventionalism and imperfect knowledge4 ,fig4 #b in ,plate #bg represents the next condition of medival art1 in which the effort at imitation is contending with the conventional type4 ,this aspen is from the ,,ms4 ,cotton1 ,augustus1 ,a4 #e1 from which ,i have already taken an example of rocks to compare with ,leonardo's4 ,there can be no doubt here about the species of the tree intended1 as throughout the ,,ms4 its illuminator has carefully distinguished the oak1 the willow1 and the aspen2 and this example1 though so small 7it is engraved of the actual size71 is very characteristic of the aspen ramification2 and in one point1 of ramification in general1 namely1 the division of the tree into two masses1 each branching outwards1 not across each other4 ,whenever a tree divides at first into two or three nearly equal main branches1 the secondary branches always spring from the outside of the divided ones1 just as1 when a tree grows under a rock or wall1 it shoots away from it1 never towards it4 ,the beautiful results of this arrangement we shall trace in the next volume2 meantime1 in the next ,plate 7#bh7 ,i have drawn the main#ce ramifications of a real aspen1 growing freely1 but in a sheltered place1 as far as may be necessary to illustrate the point in question4 #ah4 ,this example1 ,fig4 #b in ,plate #bg is sufficiently characteristic of the purist medival landscape1 though there is somewhat more leaning to naturalism than is usual at the period4 ,the next example1 ,fig4 #c1 is from ,turner's vignette of ,st4 ,anne's ,hill 7,rogers's ,poems1 p4 #bad74 ,turner almost always groups his trees1 so that ,i have had difficulty in finding one on a small scale and isolated1 which would be characteristic of him2 nor is this one completely so1 for ,i had no access to the original vignette1 it being1 ,i believe1 among the drawings that have been kept from the public1 now these four years1 because the ,chancery lawyers do not choose to determine the meaning of ,turner's perfectly intelligible1 though informal1 will2 and ,mr4 ,goodall's engraving1 which ,i have copied1 though right in many respects1 is not representative of the dotted touch by which ,turner expressed the aspen foliage4 ,i have not1 however1 ventured to alter it1 except only by adding the extremities where they were hidden in the vignette by the trelliswork above4 ,the principal difference between the ,turnerian aspen and the purist aspen is1 it will be seen1 in the expression of lightness and confusion of foliage1 and roundness of the tree as a mass2 while the purist tree1 like the thirteenth century one1 is still flat4 ,all attempt at the expression of individual leaves is now gone1 the tree being too far off to justify their delineation2 but the direction of the light1 and its gradations1 are carefully studied4 #ai4 ,fig4 #f is a tolerable facsimile#cf of a little chalk sketch of ,harding's2 quite inimitable in the quantity of life and truth obtained by about a quarter of a minute's work2 but beginning to show the faulty vagueness and carelessness of modernism4 ,the stems1 though beautifully free1 are not thoroughly drawn or rounded2 and in the mass of the tree1 though well formed1 the tremulousness and transparency of leafage are lost4 ,nor is it possible1 by ,harding's manner of drawing1 to express such ultimate truths2 his execution1 which1 in its way1 no one can at all equal 7the best chalk drawing of ,calame and other foreign masters being quite childish and feeble in comparison71 is yet sternly limited in its reach1 being originally based on the assumption that nothing is to be delicately drawn1 and that the method is only good which insures specious incompletion4 ,it will be observed1 also1 that there is a leaning first to one side1 then to the other1 in ,harding's aspen1 which marks the wild picturesqueness of modernism as opposed to the quiet but stiff dignity of the purist 7,fig4 #b72 ,turner occupying exactly the intermediate place4 ,the next example 7,fig4 #e7 is an aspen of ,constable's1 on the left in the frontispiece to ,mr4 ,leslie's life of him4 ,here we have arrived at the point of total worthlessness1 the tree being as flat as the old purist one1 but1 besides1 wholly false in ramification1 idle1 and undefined in every respect2 it being1 however1 just possible still to discern what the tree is meant for1 and therefore1 the type of the worst modernism not being completely established4 #bj4 ,fig4 #d establishes this type1 being the ordinary condition of tree treatment in our blotted water-color drawings2 the nature of the tree being entirely lost sight of1 and no accurate knowledge1 of any kind1 possessed or communicated4 ,thus1 from the extreme of definiteness and light1 in the thirteenth century 7the middle of the ,dark ,ages671 we pass to the extreme of uncertainty and darkness1 in the middle of the nineteenth century4 ,as1 however1 the definite medival work has some faults1 so the indefinite modern work has some virtues1 its very uncertainty enabling it to appeal pleasantly to the imagination 7though in an inky manner1 as described above1 ,vol4 ,,iii4 ,chap4 x4 #aj71 and sometimes securing qualities of color which could no otherwise be obtained4 ,it ought1 however1 if we would determine its true standing1 to be compared1 not with the somewhat forced and narrow decision of the thirteenth century1 but with the perfect and well-informed decision of ,albert ,durer and his fellow-workmen4 ,for the proper representation of these there was no room in this plate2 so1 in ,plate #be1 above1 on each side of the daguerreotyped towers of ,fribourg1 ,i have given1 ,fig4 #a1 a ,dureresque1 and ,fig4 #c1 a ,blottesque1 version of the intermediate wall4 ,the latter version may1 perhaps1 be felt to have some pleasantness in its apparent ease2 and it has a practical advantage1 in its capability of being executed in a quarter of a minute1 while the ,dureresque statement cannot be made in less than a quarter of an hour4 ,but the latter embraces not only as much as is worth the extra time1 but even an infinite of contents1 beyond and above the other1 for the other is in no single place clear in its assertion of anything2 whereas the ,dureresque work1 asserting clearly many most interesting facts about the grass on the ledges1 the bricks of the windows1 and the growth of the foliage1 is forever a useful and trustworthy record2 the other forever an empty dream4 ,if it is a beautiful dream1 full of lovely color and good composition1 we will not quarrel with it2 but it can never be so1 unless it is founded first on the ,dureresque knowledge1 and suggestive of it1 through all its own mystery or incompletion4 ,so that by all students the ,dureresque is the manner to be first adopted1 and calmly continued as long as possible2 and if their inventive instincts do not1 in after life1 force them to swifter or more cloudy execution1--if at any time it becomes a matter of doubt with them how far to surrender their gift of accuracy1--let them be assured that it is best always to err on the side of clearness2 to live in the illumination of the thirteenth century rather than the mysticism of the nineteenth1 and vow themselves to the cloister rather than to lose themselves in the desert4 #ba4 ,i am afraid the reader must be tired of this matter2 and yet there is one question more which ,i must for a moment touch upon1 in conclusion1 namely1 the mystery of clearness itself4 ,in an ,italian twilight1 when1 sixty or eighty miles away1 the ridge of the ,western ,alps rises in its dark and serrated blue against the crystalline vermilion1 there is still unsearchableness1 but an unsearchableness without cloud or concealment1--an infinite unknown1 but no sense of any veil or interference between us and it3 we are separated from it not by any anger or storm1 not by any vain and fading vapor1 but only by the deep infinity of the thing itself4 ,i find that the great religious painters rejoiced in that kind of unknowableness1 and in that only2 and ,i feel that even if they had had all the power to do so1 still they would not have put rosy mists and blue shadows behind their sacred figures1 but only the far-away sky and cloudless mountains4 ,probably the right conclusion is that the clear and cloudy mysteries are alike noble2 but that the beauty of the wreaths of frost mist1 folded over banks of greensward deep in dew1 and of the purple clouds of evening1 and the wreaths of fitful vapor gliding through groves of pine1 and irised around the pillars of waterfalls1 is more or less typical of the kind of joy which we should take in the imperfect knowledge granted to the earthly life1 while the serene and cloudless mysteries set forth that belonging to the redeemed life4 ,but of one thing ,i am well assured1 that so far as the clouds are regarded1 not as concealing the truth of other things1 but as themselves true and separate creations1 they are not usually beheld by us with enough honor2 we have too great veneration for cloudlessness4 ,my reasons for thinking this ,i will give in the next chapter2 here we have1 ,i believe1 examined as far as necessary1 the general principles on which ,turner worked1 and justified his adoption of them so far as they contradicted preceding practice4 ,it remains for us to trace1 with more observant patience1 the ground which was marked out in the first volume2 and1 whereas in that volume we hastily compared the truth of ,turner with that of preceding landscapists1 we shall now1 as closely as possible1 examine the range of what he himself has done and felt1 and the way in which it is likely to influence the future acts and thoughts of men4 #bb4 ,and ,i shall attempt to do this1 first1 by examining what the real effect of the things painted--clouds1 or mountains1 or whatever else they may be--is1 or ought to be1 in general1 on men's minds1 showing the grounds of their beauty or impressiveness as best ,i can2 and then examining how far ,turner seems to have understood these reasons of beauty1 and how far his work interprets1 or can take the place of nature4 ,but in doing this1 ,i shall1 for the sake of convenience1 alter the arrangement which ,i followed in the first volume2 and instead of examining the sky first1 treat of it last2 because1 in many illustrations which ,i must give of other things1 ,i shall have to introduce pieces of sky background which will all be useful for reference when ,i can turn back to them from the end of the book1 but which ,i could not refer to in advance without anticipating all my other illustrations4 ,nevertheless1 some points which ,i have to note respecting the meaning of the sky are so intimately connected with the subjects we have just been examining1 that ,i cannot properly defer their consideration to another place2 and ,i shall state them1 therefore1 in the next chapter1 afterwards proceeding1 in the order ,i adopted in the first volume1 to examine the beauty of mountains1 water1 and vegetation4 ,,footnotes #cb ,art and ,artists in ,england1 vol4 ii41 p4 #aea4 ,the other characteristics which ,dr4 ,waagen discovers in ,turner are1 such a looseness of treatment1 such a total want of truth1 as ,i never before met with4 #cc ,and yet1 all these intricacies will produce for it another whole2 as simple and natural as the child's first conception of the thing2 only more comprehensive4 ,see above1 ,chap4 ,,iii41 #ba4 #cd ,compare ,vol4 ,,iii4 ,chap4 ,,xiv4 #ac4 ,touching the exact degree in which ignorance or incapacity is mingled with wilful conventionalism in this drawing1 we shall inquire in the chapters on ,vegetation4 #ce ,only the main lines3 the outer sprays have had no pains taken with them1 as ,i am going to put some leaves on them in next volume4 #cf ,it is quite impossible to facsimile good free work4 ,both ,turner and ,harding suffer grievously in this plate4 ,,chapter ,,vi4 ,,the ,,firmament4 #a4 ,the task which we now enter upon1 as explained in the close of the preceding chapter1 is the ascertaining as far as possible what the proper effect of the natural beauty of different objects ought to be on the human mind1 and the degree in which this nature of theirs1 and true influence1 have been understood and transmitted by ,turner4 ,i mean to begin with the mountains1 for the sake of convenience in illustration2 but1 in the proper order of thought1 the clouds ought to be considered first2 and ,i think it will be well1 in this intermediate chapter1 to bring to a close that line of reasoning by which we have gradually1 as ,i hope1 strengthened the defences around the love of mystery which distinguishes our modern art2 and to show1 on final and conclusive authority1 what noble things these clouds are1 and with what feeling it seems to be intended by their ,creator that we should contemplate them4 #b4 ,the account given of the stages of ,creation in the first chapter of ,genesis1 is in every respect clear and intelligible to the simplest reader1 except in the statement of the work of the second day4 ,i suppose that this statement is passed over by careless readers without an endeavor to understand it2 and contemplated by simple and faithful readers as a sublime mystery1 which was not intended to be understood4 ,but there is no mystery in any other part of the chapter1 and it seems to me unjust to conclude that any was intended here4 ,and the passage ought to be peculiarly interesting to us1 as being the first in the ,bible in which the heavens are named1 and the only one in which the word ,heaven1 all important as that word is to our understanding of the most precious promises of ,scripture1 receives a definite explanation4 ,let us1 therefore1 see whether1 by a little careful comparison of the verse with other passages in which the word occurs1 we may not be able to arrive at as clear an understanding of this portion of the chapter as of the rest4 #c4 ,in the first place1 the ,english word ,firmament itself is obscure and useless2 because we never employ it but as a synonym of heaven2 it conveys no other distinct idea to us2 and the verse1 though from our familiarity with it we imagine that it possesses meaning1 has in reality no more point or value than if it were written1 ,god said let there be a something in the midst of the waters1 and ,god called the something ,heaven4 ,but the marginal reading1 ,expansion1 has definite value2 and the statement that ,god said1 let there be an expansion in the midst of the waters1 and ,god called the expansion ,heaven1 has an apprehensible meaning4 #d4 ,accepting this expression as the one intended1 we have next to ask what expansion there is1 between two waters1 describable by the term ,heaven4 ,milton adopts the term expanse2#cg but he understands it of the whole volume of the air which surrounds the earth4 ,whereas1 so far as we can tell1 there is no water beyond the air1 in the fields of space2 and the whole expression of division of waters from waters is thus rendered valueless4 #e4 ,now1 with respect to this whole chapter1 we must remember always that it is intended for the instruction of all mankind1 not for the learned reader only2 and that1 therefore1 the most simple and natural interpretation is the likeliest in general to be the true one4 ,an unscientific reader knows little about the manner in which the volume of the atmosphere surrounds the earth2 but ,i imagine that he could hardly glance at the sky when rain was falling in the distance1 and see the level line of the bases of the clouds from which the shower descended1 without being able to attach an instant and easy meaning to the words ,expansion in the midst of the waters4 ,and if1 having once seized this idea1 he proceeded to examine it more accurately1 he would perceive at once1 if he had ever noticed anything of the nature of clouds1 that the level line of their bases did indeed most severely and stringently divide waters from waters1 that is to say1 divide water in its collective and tangible state1 from water in its divided and aerial state2 or the waters which fall and flow1 from those which rise and float4 ,next1 if we try this interpretation in the theological sense of the word ,heaven1 and examine whether the clouds are spoken of as ,god's dwelling place1 we find ,god going before the ,israelites in a pillar of cloud2 revealing ,himself in a cloud on ,sinai2 appearing in a cloud on the mercy seat1 filling the ,temple of ,solomon with the cloud when its dedication is accepted2 appearing in a great cloud to ,ezekiel2 ascending into a cloud before the eyes of the disciples on ,mount ,olivet2 and in like manner returning to ,judgment4 ,behold1 he cometh with clouds1 and every eye shall see him4 ,then shall they see the son of man coming in the clouds of heaven1 with power and great glory4#ch ,while farther1 the clouds and heavens are used as interchangeable words in those ,psalms which most distinctly set forth the power of ,god3 ,he bowed the heavens also1 and came down2 he made darkness pavilions round about him1 dark waters1 and thick clouds of the skies4 ,and1 again3 ,thy mercy1 oh ,lord1 is in the heavens1 and thy faithfulness reacheth unto the clouds4 ,and1 again3 ,his excellency is over ,israel1 and his strength is in the clouds4 ,again3 ,the clouds poured out water1 the skies sent out a sound1 the voice of thy thunder was in the heaven4 ,again3 ,clouds and darkness are round about him1 righteousness and judgment are the habitation of his throne2 the heavens declare his righteousness1 and all the people see his glory4 #f4 ,in all these passages the meaning is unmistakable1 if they possess definite meaning at all4 ,we are too apt to take them merely for sublime and vague imagery1 and therefore gradually to lose the apprehension of their life and power4 ,the expression1 ,he bowed the ,heavens1 for instance1 is1 ,i suppose1 received by most readers as a magnificent hyperbole1 having reference to some peculiar and fearful manifestation of ,god's power to the writer of the ,psalm in which the words occur4 ,but the expression either has plain meaning1 or it has no meaning4 ,understand by the term ,heavens the compass of infinite space around the earth1 and the expression1 bowed the ,heavens1 however sublime1 is wholly without meaning2 infinite space cannot be bent or bowed4 ,but understand by the ,heavens the veil of clouds above the earth1 and the expression is neither hyperbolical nor obscure2 it is pure1 plain1 and accurate truth1 and it describes ,god1 not as revealing ,himself in any peculiar way to ,david1 but doing what he is still doing before our own eyes day by day4 ,by accepting the words in their simple sense1 we are thus led to apprehend the immediate presence of the ,deity1 and ,his purpose of manifesting ,himself as near us whenever the storm-cloud stoops upon its course2 while by our vague and inaccurate acceptance of the words we remove the idea of ,his presence far from us1 into a region which we can neither see nor know2 and gradually1 from the close realization of a living ,god who maketh the clouds his chariot1 we refine and explain ourselves into dim and distant suspicion of an inactive ,god1 inhabiting inconceivable places1 and fading into the multitudinous formalisms of the laws of ,nature4 #g4 ,all errors of this kind--and in the present day we are in constant and grievous danger of falling into them--arise from the originally mistaken idea that man can1 by searching1 find out ,god--find out the ,almighty to perfection2 that is to say by help of courses of reasoning and accumulations of science1 apprehend the nature of the ,deity in a more exalted and more accurate manner than in a state of comparative ignorance2 whereas it is clearly necessary1 from the beginning to the end of time1 that ,god's way of revealing ,himself to ,his creatures should be a simple way1 which all those creatures may understand4 ,whether taught or untaught1 whether of mean capacity or enlarged1 it is necessary that communion with their ,creator should be possible to all2 and the admission to such communion must be rested1 not on their having a knowledge of astronomy1 but on their having a human soul4 ,in order to render this communion possible1 the ,deity has stooped from ,his throne1 and has not only1 in the person of the ,son1 taken upon ,him the veil of our human flesh1 but1 in the person of the ,father1 taken upon ,him the veil of our human thoughts1 and permitted us1 by ,his own spoken authority1 to conceive ,him simply and clearly as a loving ,father and ,friend2--a being to be walked with and reasoned with2 to be moved by our entreaties1 angered by our rebellion1 alienated by our coldness1 pleased by our love1 and glorified by our labor2 and1 finally1 to be beheld in immediate and active presence in all the powers and changes of creation4 ,this conception of ,god1 which is the child's1 is evidently the only one which can be universal1 and therefore the only one which for us can be true4 ,the moment that1 in our pride of heart1 we refuse to accept the condescension of the ,almighty1 and desire ,him1 instead of stooping to hold our hands1 to rise up before us into ,his glory1--we hoping that by standing on a grain of dust or two of human knowledge higher than our fellows1 we may behold the ,creator as ,he rises1--,god takes us at our word2 ,he rises1 into ,his own invisible and inconceivable majesty2 ,he goes forth upon the ways which are not our ways1 and retires into the thoughts which are not our thoughts2 and we are left alone4 ,and presently we say in our vain hearts1 ,there is no ,god4 #h4 ,i would desire1 therefore1 to receive ,god's account of ,his own creation as under the ordinary limits of human knowledge and imagination it would be received by a simply minded man2 and finding that the heavens and the earth are spoken of always as having something like equal relation to each other 7thus the heavens and the earth were finished1 and all the host of them71 ,i reject at once all idea of the term ,heavens being intended to signify the infinity of space inhabited by countless worlds2 for between those infinite heavens and the particle of sand1 which not the earth only1 but the sun itself1 with all the solar system1 is in relation to them1 no relation of equality or comparison could be inferred4 ,but ,i suppose the heavens to mean that part of creation which holds equal companionship with our globe2 ,i understand the rolling of those heavens together as a scroll to be an equal and relative destruction with the melting of the elements in fervent heat2#ci and ,i understand the making the firmament to signify that1 so far as man is concerned1 most magnificent ordinance of the clouds2--the ordinance1 that as the great plain of waters was formed on the face of the earth1 so also a plain of waters should be stretched along the height of air1 and the face of the cloud answer the face of the ocean2 and that this upper and heavenly plain should be of waters1 as it were1 glorified in their nature1 no longer quenching the fire1 but now bearing fire in their own bosoms2 no longer murmuring only when the winds raise them or rocks divide1 but answering each other with their own voices from pole to pole2 no longer restrained by established shores1 and guided through unchanging channels1 but going forth at their pleasure like the armies of the angels1 and choosing their encampments upon the heights of the hills2 no longer hurried downwards forever1 moving but to fall1 nor lost in the lightless accumulation of the abyss1 but covering the east and west with the waving of their wings1 and robing the gloom of the farther infinite with a vesture of divers colors1 of which the threads are purple and scarlet1 and the embroideries flame4 #i4 ,this1 ,i believe1 is the ordinance of the firmament2 and it seems to me that in the midst of the material nearness of these heavens ,god means us to acknowledge ,his own immediate presence as visiting1 judging1 and blessing us4 ,the earth shook1 the heavens also dropped1 at the presence of ,god4 ,he doth set ,his bow in the cloud1 and thus renews1 in the sound of every drooping swathe of rain1 his promises of everlasting love4 ,in them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun2 whose burning ball1 which without the firmament would be seen as an intolerable and scorching circle in the blackness of vacuity1 is by that firmament surrounded with gorgeous service1 and tempered by mediatorial ministries2 by the firmament of clouds the golden pavement is spread for his chariot wheels at morning2 by the firmament of clouds the temple is built for his presence to fill with light at noon2 by the firmament of clouds the purple veil is closed at evening round the sanctuary of his rest2 by the mists of the firmament his implacable light is divided1 and its separated fierceness appeased into the soft blue that fills the depth of distance with its bloom1 and the flush with which the mountains burn as they drink the overflowing of the dayspring4 ,and in this tabernacling of the unendurable sun with men1 through the shadows of the firmament1 ,god would seem to set forth the stooping of ,his own majesty to men1 upon the throne of the firmament4 ,as the ,creator of all the worlds1 and the ,inhabiter of eternity1 we cannot behold ,him2 but1 as the ,judge of the earth and the ,preserver of men1 those heavens are indeed ,his dwelling-place4 ,swear not1 neither by heaven1 for it is ,god's throne2 nor by the earth1 for it is his footstool4 ,and all those passings to and fro of fruitful shower and grateful shade1 and all those visions of silver palaces built about the horizon1 and voices of moaning winds and threatening thunders1 and glories of colored robe and cloven ray1 are but to deepen in our hearts the acceptance1 and distinctness1 and dearness of the simple words1 ,our ,father which art in heaven4 ,,footnotes #cg ,god made ,the firmament1 expanse of liquid1 pure1 ,transparent1 elemental air1 diffused ,in circuit to the uttermost convex ,of this great round4 ,paradise ,lost1 book vii4 #ch ,the reader may refer to the following texts1 which it is needless to quote3 ,exod4 xiii4 #ba1 xvi4 #aj1 xix4 #i1 xxiv4 #af1 xxxiv4 #e1 ,levit4 xvi4 #b1 ,num4 x4 #cd1 ,judges v4 #d1 #a ,kings viii4 #aj1 ,ezek4 i4 #d1 ,dan4 vii4 #ac1 ,matt4 xxiv4 #cj1 #a ,thess4 iv4 #ag1 ,rev4 i4 #g4 #ci ,compare also ,job1 xxxvi4 #bi1 ,the spreading of the clouds1 and the noise of his tabernacle2 and xxxviii4 #cc1 ,knowest thou the ordinances of heaven8 canst thou set the dominion thereof in the earth8 canst thou lift up thy voice to the clouds8 ,observe that in the passage of ,addison's well known hymn-- ,the spacious firmament on high1 ,with all the blue ethereal sky1 ,and spangled heavens1 a shining frame1 ,their great ,original proclaim-- the writer has clearly the true distinctions in his mind2 he does not use his words1 as we too often accept them1 in vain tautology4 ,by the spacious firmament he means the clouds1 using the word spacious to mark the true meaning of the ,hebrew term3 the blue ethereal sky is the real air or ether1 blue above the clouds2 the heavens are the starry space1 for which he uses this word1 less accurately1 indeed1 than the others1 but as the only one available for this meaning4 ,,chapter ,,vii4 ,,the ,,dry ,,land4 #a4 ,having thus arrived at some apprehension of the true meaning and noble offices of the clouds1 we leave farther inquiry into their aspects to another time1 and follow the fixed arrangement of our subject2 first1 to the crests of the mountains4 ,of these also1 having seen in our review of ancient and modern landscape various strange differences in the way men looked upon them1 it will be well in the outset to ascertain1 as far as may be1 the true meaning and office4 ,the words which marked for us the purpose of the clouds are followed immediately by those notable ones3-- ,and ,god said1 ,let the waters which are under the heaven be gathered together unto one place1 and let the dry land appear4 ,we do not1 perhaps1 often enough consider the deep significance of this sentence4 ,we are too apt to receive it as the description of an event vaster only in its extent1 not in its nature1 than the compelling the ,red ,sea to draw back1 that ,israel might pass by4 ,we imagine the ,deity in like manner rolling the waves of the greater ocean together on a heap1 and setting bars and doors to them eternally4 ,but there is a far deeper meaning than this in the solemn words of ,genesis1 and in the correspondent verse of the ,psalm1 ,his hands prepared the dry land4 ,up to that moment the earth had been void1 for it had been without form4 ,the command that the waters should be gathered was the command that the earth should be sculptured4 ,the sea was not driven to his place in suddenly restrained rebellion1 but withdrawn to his place in perfect and patient obedience4 ,the dry land appeared1 not in level sands1 forsaken by the surges1 which those surges might again claim for their own2 but in range beyond range of swelling hill and iron rock1 for ever to claim kindred with the firmament1 and be companioned by the clouds of heaven4 #b4 ,what space of time was in reality occupied by the day of ,genesis1 is not1 at present1 of any importance for us to consider4 ,by what furnaces of fire the adamant was melted1 and by what wheels of earthquake it was torn1 and by what teeth of glacier and weight of sea-waves it was engraven and finished into its perfect form1 we may perhaps hereafter endeavor to conjecture2 but here1 as in few words the work is summed by the historian1 so in few broad thoughts it should be comprehended by us2 and as we read the mighty sentence1 ,let the dry land appear1 we should try to follow the finger of ,god1 as it engraved upon the stone tables of the earth the letters and the law of its everlasting form2 as1 gulf by gulf1 the channels of the deep were ploughed2 and cape by cape1 the lines were traced1 with ,divine foreknowledge1 of the shores that were to limit the nations2 and chain by chain1 the mountain walls were lengthened forth1 and their foundations fastened for ever2 and the compass was set upon the face of the depth1 and the fields1 and the highest part of the dust of the world were made2 and the right hand of ,christ first strewed the snow on ,lebanon1 and smoothed the slopes of ,calvary4 #c4 ,it is not1 ,i repeat1 always needful1 in many respects it is not possible1 to conjecture the manner1 or the time1 in which this work was done2 but it is deeply necessary for all men to consider the magnificence of the accomplished purpose1 and the depth of the wisdom and love which are manifested in the ordinances of the hills4 ,for observe1 in order to bring the world into the form which it now bears1 it was not mere sculpture that was needed2 the mountains could not stand for a day unless they were formed of materials altogether different from those which constitute the lower hills1 and the surfaces of the valleys4 ,a harder substance had to be prepared for every mountain chain2 yet not so hard but that it might be capable of crumbling down into earth fit to nourish the alpine forest and the alpine flower2 not so hard but that1 in the midst of the utmost majesty of its enthroned strength1 there should be seen on it the seal of death1 and the writing of the same sentence that had gone forth against the human frame1 ,dust thou art1 and unto dust thou shalt return4#dj ,and with this perishable substance the most majestic forms were to be framed that were consistent with the safety of man2 and the peak was to be lifted1 and the cliff rent1 as high and as steeply as was possible1 in order yet to permit the shepherd to feed his flocks upon the slope1 and the cottage to nestle beneath their shadow4 #d4 ,and observe1 two distinct ends were to be accomplished in the doing this4 ,it was1 indeed1 absolutely necessary that such eminences should be created1 in order to fit the earth in any wise for human habitation2 for without mountains the air could not be purified1 nor the flowing of the rivers sustained1 and the earth must have become for the most part desert plain1 or stagnant marsh4 ,but the feeding of the rivers and the purifying of the winds are the least of the services appointed to the hills4 ,to fill the thirst of the human heart for the beauty of ,god's working1--to startle its lethargy with the deep and pure agitation of astonishment1--are their higher missions4 ,they are as a great and noble architecture2 first giving shelter1 comfort1 and rest2 and covered also with mighty sculpture and painted legend4 ,it is impossible to examine in their connected system the features of even the most ordinary mountain scenery1 without concluding that it has been prepared in order to unite as far as possible1 and in the closest compass1 every means of delighting and sanctifying the heart of man4 ,as far as possible2 that is1 as far as is consistent with the fulfilment of the sentence of condemnation on the whole earth4 ,death must be upon the hills2 and the cruelty of the tempests smite them1 and the briar and thorn spring up upon them3 but they so smite1 as to bring their rocks into the fairest forms2 and so spring1 as to make the very desert blossom as the rose4 ,even among our own hills of ,scotland and ,cumberland1 though often too barren to be perfectly beautiful1 and always too low to be perfectly sublime1 it is strange how many deep sources of delight are gathered into the compass of their glens and vales2 and how1 down to the most secret cluster of their far-away flowers1 and the idlest leap of their straying streamlets1 the whole heart of ,nature seems thirsting to give1 and still to give1 shedding forth her everlasting beneficence with a profusion so patient1 so passionate1 that our utmost observance and thankfulness are but1 at last1 neglect of her nobleness1 and apathy to her love4 ,but among the true mountains of the greater orders the ,divine purpose of appeal at once to all the faculties of the human spirit becomes still more manifest4 ,inferior hills ordinarily interrupt1 in some degree1 the richness of the valleys at their feet2 the grey downs of ,southern ,england1 and treeless coteaux of ,central ,france1 and grey swells of ,scottish moor1 whatever peculiar charm they may possess in themselves1 are at least destitute of those which belong to the woods and fields of the lowlands4 ,but the great mountains lift the lowlands on their sides4 ,let the reader imagine1 first1 the appearance of the most varied plain of some richly cultivated country2 let him imagine it dark with graceful woods1 and soft with deepest pastures2 let him fill the space of it1 to the utmost horizon1 with innumerable and changeful incidents of scenery and life2 leading pleasant streamlets through its meadows1 strewing clusters of cottages beside their banks1 tracing sweet footpaths through its avenues1 and animating its fields with happy flocks1 and slow wandering spots of cattle2 and when he has wearied himself with endless imagining1 and left no space without some loveliness of its own1 let him conceive all this great plain1 with its infinite treasures of natural beauty and happy human life1 gathered up in ,god's hands from one edge of the horizon to the other like a woven garment2 and shaken into deep1 falling folds1 as the robes droop from a king's shoulders2 all its bright rivers leaping into cataracts along the hollows of its fall1 and all its forests rearing themselves aslant against its slopes1 as a rider rears himself back when his horse plunges2 and all its villages nestling themselves into the new windings of its glens2 and all its pastures thrown into steep waves of greensward1 dashed with dew along the edges of their folds1 and sweeping down into endless slopes1 with a cloud here and there lying quietly1 half on the grass1 half in the air2 and he will have as yet1 in all this lifted world1 only the foundation of one of the great ,alps4 ,and whatever is lovely in the lowland scenery becomes lovelier in this change3 the trees which grew heavily and stiffly from the level line of plain assume strange curves of strength and grace as they bend themselves against the mountain side2 they breathe more freely1 and toss their branches more carelessly as each climbs higher1 looking to the clear light above the topmost leaves of its brother tree3 the flowers which on the arable plain fell before the plough1 now find out for themselves unapproachable places1 where year by year they gather into happier fellowship1 and fear no evil2 and the streams which in the level land crept in dark eddies by unwholesome banks1 now move in showers of silver1 and are clothed with rainbows1 and bring health and life wherever the glance of their waves can reach4 #e4 ,and although this beauty seems at first1 in its wildness1 inconsistent with the service of man1 it is1 in fact1 more necessary to his happy existence than all the level and easily subdued land which he rejoices to possess4 ,it seems almost an insult to the reader's intelligence to ask him to dwell 7as if they could be doubted7 on the uses of the hills2 and yet so little1 until lately1 have those uses been understood1 that1 in the seventeenth century1 one of the most enlightened of the religious men of his day 7,fleming71 himself a native of a mountain country1 casting about for some reason to explain to himself the existence of mountains1 and prove their harmony with the general perfectness of the providential government of creation1 can light upon this reason only1 ,they are inhabited by the beasts4 ,first use of mountains4 ,to give motion to water4 #f4 ,it may not1 therefore1 even at this day1 be altogether profitless or unnecessary to review briefly the nature of the three great offices which mountain ranges are appointed to fulfil1 in order to preserve the health and increase the happiness of mankind4 ,their first use is of course to give motion to water4 ,every fountain and river1 from the inch-deep streamlet that crosses the village lane in trembling clearness1 to the massy and silent march of the everlasting multitude of waters in ,amazon or ,ganges1 owe their play1 and purity1 and power1 to the ordained elevations of the earth4 ,gentle or steep1 extended or abrupt1 some determined slope of the earth's surface is of course necessary1 before any wave can so much as overtake one sedge in its pilgrimage2 and how seldom do we enough consider1 as we walk beside the margins of our pleasant brooks1 how beautiful and wonderful is that ordinance1 of which every blade of grass that waves in their clear water is a perpetual sign2 that the dew and rain fallen on the face of the earth shall find no resting-place2 shall find1 on the contrary1 fixed channels traced for them1 from the ravines of the central crests down which they roar in sudden ranks of foam1 to the dark hollows beneath the banks of lowland pasture1 round which they must circle slowly among the stems and beneath the leaves of the lilies2 paths prepared for them1 by which1 at some appointed rate of journey1 they must evermore descend1 sometimes slow and sometimes swift1 but never pausing2 the daily portion of the earth they have to glide over marked for them at each successive sunrise1 the place which has known them knowing them no more1 and the gateways of guarding mountains opened for them in cleft and chasm1 none letting them in their pilgrimage2 and1 from far off1 the great heart of the sea calling them to itself6 ,deep calleth unto deep4 ,i know not which of the two is the more wonderful1--that calm1 gradated1 invisible slope of the champaign land1 which gives motion to the stream2 or that passage cloven for it through the ranks of hill1 which1 necessary for the health of the land immediately around them1 would yet1 unless so supernaturally divided1 have fatally intercepted the flow of the waters from far-off countries4 ,when did the great spirit of the river first knock at those adamantine gates8 ,when did the porter open to it1 and cast his keys away for ever1 lapped in whirling sand8 ,i am not satisfied--no one should be satisfied--with that vague answer1--the river cut its way4 ,not so4 ,the river found its way4 ,i do not see that rivers1 in their own strength1 can do much in cutting their way2 they are nearly as apt to choke their channels up1 as to carve them out4 ,only give a river some little sudden power in a valley1 and see how it will use it4 ,cut itself a bed8 ,not so1 by any means1 but fill up its bed1 and look for another1 in a wild1 dissatisfied1 inconsistent manner4 ,any way1 rather than the old one1 will better please it2 and even if it is banked up and forced to keep to the old one1 it will not deepen1 but do all it can to raise it1 and leap out of it4 ,and although1 wherever water has a steep fail1 it will swiftly cut itself a bed deep into the rock or ground1 it will not1 when the rock is hard1 cut a wider channel than it actually needs2 so that if the existing river beds1 through ranges of mountain1 had in reality been cut by the streams1 they would be found1 wherever the rocks are hard1 only in the form of narrow and profound ravines1--like the well-known channel of the ,niagara1 below the fall2 not in that of extended valleys4 ,and the actual work of true mountain rivers1 though often much greater in proportion to their body of water than that of the ,niagara1 is quite insignificant when compared with the area and depth of the valleys through which they flow2 so that1 although in many cases it appears that those larger valleys have been excavated at earlier periods by more powerful streams1 or by the existing stream in a more powerful condition1 still the great fact remains always equally plain1 and equally admirable1 that1 whatever the nature and duration of the agencies employed1 the earth was so shaped at first as to direct the currents of its rivers in the manner most healthy and convenient for man4 ,the valley of the ,rhone may1 though it is not likely1 have been in great part excavated in early time by torrents a thousand times larger than the ,rhone2 but it could not have been excavated at all1 unless the mountains had been thrown at first into two chains1 between which the torrents were set to work in a given direction4 ,and it is easy to conceive how1 under any less beneficent dispositions of their masses of hill1 the continents of the earth might either have been covered with enormous lakes1 as parts of ,north ,america actually are covered2 or have become wildernesses of pestiferous marsh2 or lifeless plains1 upon which the water would have dried as it fell1 leaving them for great part of the year desert4 ,such districts do exist1 and exist in vastness3 the whole earth is not prepared for the habitation of man2 only certain small portions are prepared for him1--the houses1 as it were1 of the human race1 from which they are to look abroad upon the rest of the world1 not to wonder or complain that it is not all house1 but to be grateful for the kindness of the admirable building1 in the house itself1 as compared with the rest4 ,it would be as absurd to think it an evil that all the world is not fit for us to inhabit1 as to think it an evil that the globe is no larger than it is4 ,as much as we shall ever need is evidently assigned to us for our dwelling-place2 the rest1 covered with rolling waves or drifting sands1 fretted with ice or crested with fire1 is set before us for contemplation in an uninhabitable magnificence2 and that part which we are enabled to inhabit owes its fitness for human life chiefly to its mountain ranges1 which1 throwing the superfluous rain off as it falls1 collect it in streams or lakes1 and guide it into given places1 and in given directions2 so that men can build their cities in the midst of fields which they know will be always fertile1 and establish the lines of their commerce upon streams which will not fail4 #g4 ,nor is this giving of motion to water to be considered as confined only to the surface of the earth4 ,a no less important function of the hills is in directing the flow of the fountains and springs1 from subterranean reservoirs4 ,there is no miraculous springing up of water out of the ground at our feet2 but every fountain and well is supplied from a reservoir among the hills1 so placed as to involve some slight fall or pressure1 enough to secure the constant flowing of the stream4 ,and the incalculable blessing of the power given to us in most valleys1 of reaching by excavation some point whence the water will rise to the surface of the ground in perennial flow1 is entirely owing to the concave disposition of the beds of clay or rock raised from beneath the bosom of the valley into ranks of enclosing hills4 ,second use4 ,to give motion to air4 #h4 ,the second great use of mountains is to maintain a constant change in the currents and nature of the air4 ,such change would1 of course1 have been partly caused by differences in soils and vegetation1 even if the earth had been level2 but to a far less extent than it is now by the chains of hills1 which exposing on one side their masses of rock to the full heat of the sun 7increased by the angle at which the rays strike on the slope71 and on the other casting a soft shadow for leagues over the plains at their feet1 divide the earth not only into districts1 but into climates1 and cause perpetual currents of air to traverse their passes1 and ascend or descend their ravines1 altering both the temperature and nature of the air as it passes1 in a thousand different ways2 moistening it with the spray of their waterfalls1 sucking it down and beating it hither and thither in the pools of their torrents1 closing it within clefts and caves1 where the sunbeams never reach1 till it is as cold as ,november mists1 then sending it forth again to breathe softly across the slopes of velvet fields1 or to be scorched among sunburnt shales and grassless crags2 then drawing it back in moaning swirls through clefts of ice1 and up into dewy wreaths above the snow-fields2 then piercing it with strange electric darts and flashes of mountain fire1 and tossing it high in fantastic storm-cloud1 as the dried grass is tossed by the mower1 only suffering it to depart at last1 when chastened and pure1 to refresh the faded air of the far-off plains4 ,third use4 ,to give change to the ground4 #i4 ,the third great use of mountains is to cause perpetual change in the soils of the earth4 ,without such provisions the ground under cultivation would in a series of years become exhausted and require to be upturned laboriously by the hand of man4 ,but the elevations of the earth's surface provide for it a perpetual renovation4 ,the higher mountains suffer their summits to be broken into fragments and to be cast down in sheets of massy rock1 full1 as we shall see presently1 of every substance necessary for the nourishment of plants3 these fallen fragments are again broken by frost1 and ground by torrents1 into various conditions of sand and clay--materials which are distributed perpetually by the streams farther and farther from the mountain's base4 ,every shower which swells the rivulets enables their waters to carry certain portions of earth into new positions1 and exposes new banks of ground to be mined in their turn4 ,that turbid foaming of the angry water1--that tearing down of bank and rock along the flanks of its fury1--are no disturbances of the kind course of nature2 they are beneficent operations of laws necessary to the existence of man and to the beauty of the earth4 ,the process is continued more gently1 but not less effectively1 over all the surface of the lower undulating country2 and each filtering thread of summer rain which trickles through the short turf of the uplands is bearing its own appointed burden of earth to be thrown down on some new natural garden in the dingles below4 ,and it is not1 in reality1 a degrading1 but a true1 large1 and ennobling view of the mountain ranges of the world1 if we compare them to heaps of fertile and fresh earth1 laid up by a prudent gardener beside his garden beds1 whence1 at intervals1 he casts on them some scattering of new and virgin ground4 ,that which we so often lament as convulsion or destruction is nothing else than the momentary shaking of the dust from the spade4 ,the winter floods1 which inflict a temporary devastation1 bear with them the elements of succeeding fertility2 the fruitful field is covered with sand and shingle in momentary judgment1 but in enduring mercy2 and the great river1 which chokes its mouth with marsh1 and tosses terror along its shore1 is but scattering the seeds of the harvests of futurity1 and preparing the seats of unborn generations4 #aj4 ,i have not spoken of the local and peculiar utilities of mountains3 ,i do not count the benefit of the supply of summer streams from the moors of the higher ranges1--of the various medicinal plants which are nested among their rocks1--of the delicate pasturage which they furnish for cattle1#da--of the forests in which they bear timber for shipping1--the stones they supply for building1 or the ores of metal which they collect into spots open to discovery1 and easy for working4 ,all these benefits are of a secondary or a limited nature4 ,but the three great functions which ,i have just described1--those of giving motion and change to water1 air1 and earth1--are indispensable to human existence2 they are operations to be regarded with as full a depth of gratitude as the laws which bid the tree bear fruit1 or the seed multiply itself in the earth4 ,and thus those desolate and threatening ranges of dark mountain1 which1 in nearly all ages of the world1 men have looked upon with aversion or with terror1 and shrunk back from as if they were haunted by perpetual images of death1 are1 in reality1 sources of life and happiness far fuller and more beneficent than all the bright fruitfulness of the plain4 ,the valleys only feed2 the mountains feed1 and guard1 and strengthen us4 ,we take our idea of fearfulness and sublimity alternately from the mountains and the sea2 but we associate them unjustly4 ,the sea wave1 with all its beneficence1 is yet devouring and terrible2 but the silent wave of the blue mountain is lifted towards heaven in a stillness of perpetual mercy2 and the one surge1 unfathomable in its darkness1 the other1 unshaken in its faithfulness1 for ever bear the seal of their appointed symbol3 ,thy righteousness is like the great mountains3 ,thy judgments are a great deep4 ,,footnotes #dj ,surely the mountain falling cometh to nought1 and the rock is removed out of his place4 ,the waters wear the stones3 thou washest away the things which grow out of the dust of the earth2 and thou destroyest the hope of man4--,job1 xiv4 #ah1 #ai4 #da ,the highest pasturages 7at least so say the ,savoyards7 being always the best and richest4 ,,chapter ,,viii4 ,,of ,,the ,,materials ,,of ,,mountains3--,,first1 ,,compact ,,crystallines4 #a4 ,in the early days of geological science1 the substances which composed the crust of the earth1 as far as it could be examined1 were supposed to be referable to three distinct classes3 the first consisting of rocks which not only supported all the rest1 but from which all the rest were derived1 therefore called ,primary2 the second class consisting of rocks formed of the broken fragments or altered substance of the primary ones1 therefore called ,secondary2 and1 thirdly1 rocks or earthy deposits formed by the ruins and detritus of both primary and secondary rocks1 called1 therefore1 ,tertiary4 ,this classification was always1 in some degree1 uncertain2 and has been lately superseded by more complicated systems1 founded on the character of the fossils contained in the various deposits1 and on the circumstances of position1 by which their relative ages are more accurately ascertainable4 ,but the original rude classification1 though of little1 if any1 use for scientific purposes1 was based on certain broad and conspicuous phenomena1 which it brought clearly before the popular mind4 ,in this way it may still be serviceable1 and ought1 ,i think1 to be permitted to retain its place1 as an introduction to systems more defined and authoritative4 #b4 ,for the fact is1 that in approaching any large mountain range1 the ground over which the spectator passes1 if he examine it with any intelligence1 will almost always arrange itself in his mind under three great heads4 ,there will be1 first1 the ground of the plains or valleys he is about to quit1 composed of sand1 clay1 gravel1 rolled stones1 and variously mingled soils2 which1 if he has any opportunity1--at the banks of a stream1 or the sides of a railway cutting1--to examine to any depth1 he will find arranged in beds exactly resembling those of modern sand-banks or sea-beaches1 and appearing to have been formed under such natural laws as are in operation daily around us4 ,at the outskirts of the hill district1 he may1 perhaps1 find considerable eminences1 formed of these beds of loose gravel and sand2 but1 as he enters into it farther1 he will soon discover the hills to be composed of some harder substance1 properly deserving the name of rock1 sustaining itself in picturesque forms1 and appearing1 at first1 to owe both its hardness and its outlines to the action of laws such as do not hold at the present day4 ,he can easily explain the nature1 and account for the distribution1 of the banks which overhang the lowland road1 or of the dark earthy deposits which enrich the lowland pasture2 but he cannot so distinctly imagine how the limestone hills of ,derbyshire and ,yorkshire were hardened into their stubborn whiteness1 or raised into their cavernous cliffs4 ,still1 if he carefully examines the substance of these more noble rocks1 he will1 in nine cases out of ten1 discover them to be composed of fine calcareous dust1 or closely united particles of sand2 and will be ready to accept as possible1 or even probable1 the suggestion of their having been formed1 by slow deposit1 at the bottom of deep lakes and ancient seas1 under such laws of ,nature as are still in operation4 #c4 ,but1 as he advances yet farther into the hill district1 he finds the rocks around him assuming a gloomier and more majestic condition4 ,their tint darkens2 their outlines become wild and irregular2 and whereas before they had only appeared at the roadside in narrow ledges among the turf1 or glanced out from among the thickets above the brooks in white walls and fantastic towers1 they now rear themselves up in solemn and shattered masses far and near2 softened1 indeed1 with strange harmony of clouded colors1 but possessing the whole scene with their iron spirit2 and rising1 in all probability1 into eminences as much prouder in actual elevation than those of the intermediate rocks1 as more powerful in their influence over every minor feature of the landscape4 #d4 ,and when the traveller proceeds to observe closely the materials of which these noble ranges are composed1 he finds also a complete change in their internal structure4 ,they are no longer formed of delicate sand or dust--each particle of that dust the same as every other1 and the whole mass depending for its hardness merely on their closely cemented unity2 but they are now formed of several distinct substances1 visibly unlike each other2 and not pressed but crystallized into one mass1--crystallized into a unity far more perfect than that of the dusty limestone1 but yet without the least mingling of their several natures with each other4 ,such a rock1 freshly broken1 has a spotty1 granulated1 and1 in almost all instances1 sparkling1 appearance2 it requires a much harder blow to break it than the limestone or sandstone2 but1 when once thoroughly shattered1 it is easy to separate from each other the various substances of which it is composed1 and to examine them in their individual grains or crystals2 of which each variety will be found to have a different degree of hardness1 a different shade of color1 and a different character of form4 ,but this examination will not enable the observer to comprehend the method either of their formation or aggregation1 at least by any process such as he now sees taking place around him2 he will at once be driven to admit that some strange and powerful operation has taken place upon these rocks1 different from any of which he is at present cognizant2 and farther inquiry will probably induce him to admit1 as more than probable1 the supposition that their structure is in great part owing to the action of enormous heat prolonged for indefinite periods4 #e4 ,now1 although these three great groups of rocks do indeed often pass into each other by imperceptible gradations1 and although their peculiar aspect is never a severe indication of their relative ages1 yet their characters are for the most part so defined as to make a strong impression on the mind of an ordinary observer1 and their age is also for the most part approximately indicated by their degrees of hardness1 and crystalline aspect4 ,it does1 indeed1 sometimes happen that a soft and slimy clay will pass into a rock like ,aberdeen granite by transitions so subtle that no point of separation can be determined2 and it very often happens that rocks like ,aberdeen granite are of more recent formation than certain beds of sandstone and limestone4 ,but1 in spite of all these uncertainties and exceptions1 ,i believe that unless actual pains be taken to efface from the mind its natural impressions1 the idea of three great classes of rocks and earth will maintain its ground in the thoughts of the general observer2 that whether he desire it or not1 he will find himself throwing the soft and loose clays and sands together under one head2 placing the hard rocks1 of a dull1 compact1 homogeneous substance1 under another head2 and the hardest rocks1 of a crystalline1 glittering1 and various substance1 under a third head2 and having done this1 he will also find that1 with certain easily admissible exceptions1 these three classes of rocks are1 in every district which he examines1 of three different ages2 that the softest are the youngest1 the hard and homogeneous ones are older1 and the crystalline are the oldest2 and he will1 perhaps1 in the end1 find it a somewhat inconvenient piece of respect to the complexity and accuracy of modern geological science1 if he refuse to the three classes1 thus defined in his imagination1 their ancient title of ,tertiary1 ,secondary1 and ,primary4 #f4 ,but however this may be1 there is one lesson evidently intended to be taught by the different characters of these rocks1 which we must not allow to escape us4 ,we have to observe1 first1 the state of perfect powerlessness1 and loss of all beauty1 exhibited in those beds of earth in which the separated pieces or particles are entirely independent of each other1 more especially in the gravel whose pebbles have all been rolled into one shape3 secondly1 the greater degree of permanence1 power1 and beauty possessed by the rocks whose component atoms have some affection and attraction for each other1 though all of one kind2 and lastly1 the utmost form and highest beauty of the rocks in which the several atoms have all different shapes1 characters1 and offices2 but are inseparably united by some fiery process which has purified them all4 ,it can hardly be necessary to point out how these natural ordinances seem intended to teach us the great truths which are the basis of all political science2 how the polishing friction which separates1 the affection which binds1 and the affliction that fuses and confirms1 are accurately symbolized by the processes to which the several ranks of hills appear to owe their present aspect2 and how1 even if the knowledge of those processes be denied to us1 that present aspect may in itself seem no imperfect image of the various states of mankind3 first1 that which is powerless through total disorganization2 secondly1 that which1 though united1 and in some degree powerful1 is yet incapable of great effort or result1 owing to the too great similarity and confusion of offices1 both in ranks and individuals2 and finally1 the perfect state of brotherhood and strength in which each character is clearly distinguished1 separately perfected1 and employed in its proper place and office4 #g4 ,i shall not1 however1 so oppose myself to the views of our leading geologists as to retain here the names of ,primary1 ,secondary1 and ,tertiary rocks4 ,but as ,i wish the reader to keep the ideas of the three classes clearly in his mind1 ,i will ask his leave to give them names which involve no theory1 and can be liable1 therefore1 to no great objections4 ,we will call the hard1 and 7generally7 central1 masses ,crystalline ,rocks1 because they almost always present an appearance of crystallization4 ,the less hard substances1 which appear compact and homogeneous1 we will call ,coherent ,rocks1 and for the scattered dbris we will use the general term ,diluvium4 #h4 ,all these substances agree in one character1 that of being more or less soft and destructible4 ,one material1 indeed1 which enters largely into the composition of most of them1 flint1 is harder than iron2 but even this1 their chief source of strength1 is easily broken by a sudden blow2 and it is so combined in the large rocks with softer substances1 that time and the violence of the weather invariably produce certain destructive effects on their masses4 ,some of them become soft1 and moulder away2 others break1 little by little1 into angular fragments or slaty sheets2 but all yield in some way or other2 and the problem to be solved in every mountain range appears to be1 that under these conditions of decay1 the cliffs and peaks may be raised as high1 and thrown into as noble forms1 as is possible1 consistently with an effective1 though not perfect permanence1 and a general1 though not absolute security4 #i4 ,perfect permanence and absolute security were evidently in nowise intended4#db ,it would have been as easy for the ,creator to have made mountains of steel as of granite1 of adamant as of lime2 but this was clearly no part of the ,divine counsels3 mountains were to be destructible and frail2 to melt under the soft lambency of the streamlet2 to shiver before the subtle wedge of the frost2 to wither with untraceable decay in their own substance2 and yet1 under all these conditions of destruction1 to be maintained in magnificent eminence before the eyes of men4 ,nor is it in any wise difficult for us to perceive the beneficent reasons for this appointed frailness of the mountains4 ,they appear to be threefold3 the first1 and the most important1 that successive soils might be supplied to the plains1 in the manner explained in the last chapter1 and that men might be furnished with a material for their works of architecture and sculpture1 at once soft enough to be subdued1 and hard enough to be preserved2 the second1 that some sense of danger might always be connected with the most precipitous forms1 and thus increase their sublimity2 and the third1 that a subject of perpetual interest might be opened to the human mind in observing the changes of form brought about by time on these monuments of creation4 ,in order1 therefore1 to understand the method in which these various substances break1 so as to produce the forms which are of chief importance in landscape1 as well as the exquisite adaptation of all their qualities to the service of men1 it will be well that ,i should take some note of them in their order2 not with any mineralogical accuracy1 but with care enough to enable me hereafter to explain1 without obscurity1 any phenomena dependent upon such peculiarities of substance4 #a4 ,,crystalline ,,rocks4 #aj4 #ast4 ,,crystalline ,,rocks4--,in saying1 above1 that the hardest rocks generally presented an appearance of crystallization1 ,i meant a glittering or granulated look1 somewhat like that of a coarse piece of freshly broken loaf sugar4 ,are always ,compound4 ,but this appearance may also exist in rocks of uniform and softer substance1 such as statuary marble1 of which freshly broken pieces1 put into a sugar-basin1 cannot be distinguished by the eye from the real sugar4 ,such rocks are truly crystalline in structure2 but the group to which ,i wish to limit the term crystalline1 is not only thus granulated and glittering1 but is always composed of at least two1 usually three or four1 substances1 intimately mingled with each other in the form of small grains or crystals1 and giving the rock a more or less speckled or mottled look1 according to the size of the crystals and their variety of color4 ,it is a law of nature1 that whenever rocks are to be employed on hard service1 and for great purposes1 they shall be thus composed4 ,and there appear to be two distinct providential reasons for this4 #aa4 ,the first1 that these crystalline rocks being1 as we saw above1 generally the oldest and highest1 it is from them that other soils of various kinds must be derived2 and they were therefore made a kind of storehouse1 from which1 wherever they were found1 all kinds of treasures could be developed necessary for the service of man and other living creatures4 ,thus the granite of ,mont ,blanc is a crystalline rock composed of four substances2 and in these four substances are contained the elements of nearly all kinds of sandstone and clay1 together with potash1 magnesia1 and the metals of iron and manganese4 ,wherever the smallest portion of this rock occurs1 a certain quantity of each of these substances may be derived from it1 and the plants and animals which require them sustained in health4 ,the second reason appears to be that rocks composed in this manner are capable of more interesting variety in form than any others2 and as they were continually to be exposed to sight in the high ranges1 they were so prepared as to be always as interesting and beautiful as possible4 ,and divisible into two classes1 ,compact ,crystallines and ,slaty ,crystallines4 #ab4 ,these crystalline or spotted rocks we must again separate into two great classes1 according to the arrangement1 in them1 of the particles of a substance called mica4 ,it is not present in all of them2 but when it occurs1 it is usually in large quantities1 and a notable source of character4 ,it varies in color1 occurring white1 brown1 green1 red1 and black2 and in aspect1 from shining plates to small dark grains1 even these grains being seen1 under a magnifier1 to be composed of little plates1 like pieces of exceedingly thin glass2 but with this great difference from glass1 that1 whether large or small1 the plates will not easily break across1 but are elastic1 and capable of being bent into a considerable curve2 only if pressed with a knife upon the edge1 they will separate into any number of thinner plates1 more and more elastic and flexible according to their thinness1 and these again into others still finer2 there seeming to be no limit to the possible subdivision but the coarseness of the instrument employed4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #c4 #ac4 ,now1 when these crystals or grains1 represented by the black spots and lines in ,fig4 #c1 lie as they do at a in that figure1 in all directions1 cast hither and thither among the other materials of the stone1--sometimes on their faces1 sometimes on their sides1 sometimes on their edges1--they give the rock an irregularly granulated appearance and structure1 so that it will break with equal ease in any direction2 but if these crystals lie all one way1 with their sides parallel1 as at b1 they give the rock a striped or slaty look1 and it will most readily break in the direction in which they lie1 separating itself into folia or plates1 more or less distinctly according to the quantity of mica in its mass4 ,in the example ,fig4 #d1 a piece of rock from the top of ,mont ,breven1 there are very few of them1 and the material with which they are surrounded is so hard and compact that the whole mass breaks irregularly1 like a solid flint1 beneath the hammer2 but the plates of mica nevertheless influence the fracture on a large scale1 and occasion1 as we shall see hereafter1 the peculiar form of the precipice at the summit of the mountain4#dc ,the rocks which are destitute of mica1 or in which the mica lies irregularly1 or in which it is altogether absent1 ,i shall call ,compact ,crystallines4 ,the rocks in which the mica lies regularly ,i shall call ,slaty ,crystallines4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #d4 ,,compact ,,crystallines4 #ad4 #ast4 ,compact ,crystallines4--,under this head are embraced the large group of the granites1 syenites1 and porphyries1--rocks which all agree in the following particulars3-- ,their first characteristic4 ,speckledness4 ,a4 ,variety of color4--,the method of their composition out of different substances necessitates their being all more or less spotted or dashed with various colors2 there being generally a prevalent ground color1 with other subordinate hues broken over it1 forming1 for the most part1 tones of silver grey1 of warm but subdued red1 or purple4 ,now1 there is in this a very marvellous provision for the beauty of the central ranges4 ,other rocks1 placed lower among the hills1 receive color upon their surfaces from all kinds of minute vegetation2 but these higher and more exposed rocks are liable to be in many parts barren2 and the wild forms into which they are thrown necessitate their being often freshly broken1 so as to bring their pure color1 untempered in anywise1 frankly into sight4 ,hence it is appointed that this color shall not be raw or monotonous1 but composed--as all beautiful color must be composed--by mingling of many hues in one4 ,not that there is any aim at attractive beauty in these rocks2 they are intended to constitute solemn and desolate scenes2 and there is nothing delicately or variously disposed in their colors4 ,such beauty would have been inconsistent with their expression of power and terror1 and it is reserved for the marbles and other rocks of inferior office4 ,but their color is grave and perfect2 closely resembling1 in many cases1 the sort of hue reached by cross-chequering in the ground of fourteenth-century manuscripts1 and peculiarly calculated for distant effects of light2 being1 for the most part1 slightly warm in tone1 so as to receive with full advantage the red and orange rays of sunlight4 ,this warmth is almost always farther aided by a glowing orange color1 derived from the decomposition of the iron which1 though in small quantity1 usually is an essential element in them3 the orange hue forms itself in unequal veins and spots upon the surfaces which have been long exposed1 more or less darkening them2 and a very minute black lichen1--so minute as to look almost like spots of dark paint1--a little opposed and warmed by the golden ,lichen geographicus1 still farther subdues the paler hues of the highest granite rocks4 ,now1 when a surface of this kind is removed to a distance of four or five miles1 and seen under warm light through soft air1 the orange becomes russet1 more or less inclining to pure red1 according to the power of the rays3 but the black of the lichen becomes pure dark blue2 and the result of their combination is that peculiar reddish purple which is so strikingly the characteristic of the rocks of the higher ,alps4 ,most of the travellers who have seen the ,valley of ,chamouni carry away a strong impression that its upper precipices are of red rock4 ,but they are1 without exception1 of a whitish grey1 toned and raised by this united operation of the iron1 the lichen1 and the light4 #ae4 ,i have never had an opportunity of studying the effects of these tones upon rocks of porphyry2 but the beautiful color of that rock in its interior substance has rendered it one of the favorite materials of the architects of all ages1 in their most costly work4 ,not that all porphyry is purple2 there are green and white porphyries1 as there are yellow and white roses2 but the first idea of a porphyry rock is that it shall be purple1--just as the first idea of a rose is that it shall be red4 ,the purple inclines always towards russet#dd rather than blue1 and is subdued by small spots of grey or white4 ,this speckled character1 common to all the crystalline rocks1 fits them1 in art1 for large and majestic work2 it unfits them for delicate sculpture2 and their second universal characteristic is altogether in harmony with this consequence of their first4 ,their second characteristic4 ,toughness4 #af4 ,this second characteristic is a tough hardness1 not a brittle hardness1 like that of glass or flint1 which will splinter violently at a blow in the most unexpected directions2 but a grave hardness1 which will bear many blows before it yields1 and when it is forced to yield at last1 will do so1 as it were1 in a serious and thoughtful way2 not spitefully1 nor uselessly1 nor irregularly1 but in the direction in which it is wanted1 and where the force of the blow is directed--there1 and there only4 ,a flint which receives a shock stronger than it can bear1 gives up everything at once1 and flies into a quantity of pieces1 each piece full of flaws4 ,but a piece of granite seems to say to itself1 very solemnly3 ,if these people are resolved to split me into two pieces1 that is no reason why ,i should split myself into three4 ,i will keep together as well as ,i can1 and as long as ,i can2 and if ,i must fall to dust at last1 it shall be slowly and honorably2 not in a fit of fury4 ,the importance of this character1 in fitting the rock for human uses1 cannot be exaggerated3 it is essential to such uses that it should be hard1 for otherwise it could not bear enormous weights without being crushed2 and if1 in addition to this hardness1 it had been brittle1 like glass1 it could not have been employed except in the rudest way1 as flints are in ,kentish walls4 ,but now it is possible to cut a block of granite out of its quarry to exactly the size we want2 and that with perfect ease1 without gunpowder1 or any help but that of a few small iron wedges1 a chisel1 and a heavy hammer4 ,a single workman can detach a mass fifteen or twenty feet long1 by merely drilling a row of holes1 a couple of inches deep1 and three or four inches apart1 along the surface1 in the direction in which he wishes to split the rock1 and then inserting wedges into each of these holes1 and striking them1 consecutively1 with small1 light1 repeated blows along the whole row4 ,the granite rends1 at last1 along the line1 quite evenly1 requiring very little chiselling afterwards to give the block a smooth face4 #ag4 ,this after-chiselling1 however1 is necessarily tedious work1 and therefore that condition of speckled color1 which is beautiful if exhibited in broad masses1 but offensive in delicate forms1 exactly falls in with the conditions of possible sculpture4 ,not only is it more laborious to carve granite delicately1 than a softer rock2 but it is physically impossible to bring it into certain refinements of form4 ,it cannot be scraped and touched into contours1 as marble can2 it must be struck hard1 or it will not yield at all2 and to strike a delicate and detached form hard1 is to break it4 ,the detached fingers of a delicate hand1 for instance1 cannot1 as far as ,i know1 be cut in granite4 ,the smallest portion could not be removed from them without a strength of blow which would break off the finger4 ,hence the sculptor of granite is forced to confine himself to1 and to seek for1 certain types of form capable of expression in his material2 he is naturally driven to make his figures simple in surface1 and colossal in size1 that they may bear his blows2 and this simplicity and magnitude are exactly the characters necessary to show the granitic or porphyritic color to the best advantage4 ,and thus we are guided1 almost forced1 by the laws of nature1 to do right in art4 ,had granite been white1 and marble speckled 7and why should this not have been1 but by the definite ,divine appointment for the good of man871 the huge figures of the ,egyptian would have been as oppressive to the sight as cliffs of snow1 and the ,venus de ,medicis would have looked like some exquisitely graceful species of frog4 ,their third characteristic4 ,purity in decomposition4 #ah4 ,the third universal characteristic of these rocks is their decomposition into the purest sand and clay4 ,some of them decompose spontaneously1 though slowly1 on exposure to weather2 the greater number only after being mechanically pulverized2 but the sand and clay to which by one or the other process they are reducible1 are both remarkable for their purity4 ,the clay is the finest and best that can be found for porcelain2 the sand often of the purest white1 always lustrous and bright in its particles4 ,the result of this law is a peculiar aspect of purity in the landscape composed of such rocks4 ,it cannot become muddy1 or foul1 or unwholesome4 ,the streams which descend through it may indeed be opaque1 and as white as cream with the churned substance of the granite2 but their water1 after this substance has been thrown down1 is good and pure1 and their shores are not slimy or treacherous1 but of pebbles1 or of firm and sparkling sand4 ,the quiet streams1 springs1 and lakes are always of exquisite clearness1 and the sea which washes a granite coast is as unsullied as a flawless emerald4 ,it is remarkable to what extent this intense purity in the country seems to influence the character of its inhabitants4 ,it is almost impossible to make a cottage built in a granite country look absolutely miserable4 ,rough it may be1--neglected1 cold1 full of aspect of hardship1--but it never can look foul2 no matter how carelessly1 how indolently1 its inhabitants may live1 the water at their doors will not stagnate1 the soil beneath their feet will not allow itself to be trodden into slime1 the timbers of their fences will not rot1 they cannot so much as dirty their faces or hands if they try2 do the worst they can1 there will still be a feeling of firm ground under them1 and pure air about them1 and an inherent wholesomeness in their abodes which it will need the misery of years to conquer4 ,and1 as far as ,i remember1 the inhabitants of granite countries have always a force and healthiness of character1 more or less abated or modified1 of course1 according to the other circumstances of their life1 but still definitely belonging to them1 as distinguished from the inhabitants of the less pure districts of the hills4 ,these1 then1 are the principal characters of the compact crystallines1 regarded in their minor or detached masses4 ,of the peculiar forms which they assume we shall have to speak presently2 meantime1 retaining these general ideas touching their nature and substance1 let us proceed to examine1 in the same point of view1 the neighboring group of slaty crystallines4 ,,footnotes #db ,i am well aware that to the minds of many persons nothing bears a greater appearance of presumption than any attempt at reasoning respecting the purposes of the ,divine ,being2 and that in many cases it would be thought more consistent with the modesty of humanity to limit its endeavor to the ascertaining of physical causes than to form conjectures respecting ,divine intentions4 ,but ,i believe this feeling to be false and dangerous4 ,wisdom can only be demonstrated in its ends1 and goodness only perceived in its motives4 ,he who in a morbid modesty supposes that he is incapable of apprehending any of the purposes of ,god1 renders himself also incapable of witnessing his wisdom2 and he who supposes that favors may be bestowed without intention1 will soon learn to receive them without gratitude4 #dc ,see ,appendix #b4 ,slaty ,cleavage4 #dd ,as we had to complain of ,dante for not enough noticing the colors of rocks in wild nature1 let us do him the justice to refer to his noble symbolic use of their colors when seen in the hewn block4 ,the lowest stair was marble white1 so smooth ,and polished that therein my mirrored form ,distinct ,i saw4 ,the next of hue more dark ,than sablest grain1 a rough and singed block1 ,cracked lengthwise and across4 ,the third1 that lay ,massy above1 seemed porphyry1 that flamed ,red as the life-blood spouting from a vein4 ,this stair is at the gate of ,purgatory4 ,the white step means sincerity of conscience2 the black1 contrition2 the purple 7,i believe71 pardon by the ,atonement4 ,,chapter ,,ix4 ,,of ,,the ,,materials ,,of ,,mountains3--,,secondly1 ,,slaty ,,crystallines4 #a4 ,it will be remembered that we said in the last chapter 7 #d7 that one of the notable characters of the whole group of the crystallines was the incomprehensibility of the processes which have brought them to their actual state4 ,this however is more peculiarly true of the slaty crystallines4 ,it is perfectly possible1 by many processes of chemistry1 to produce masses of irregular crystals which1 though not of the substance of granite1 are very like it in their mode of arrangement4 ,but1 as far as ,i am aware1 it is impossible to produce artificially anything resembling the structure of the slaty crystallines4 ,and the more ,i have examined the rocks themselves1 the more ,i have felt at once the difficulty of explaining the method of their formation1 and the growing interest of inquiries respecting that method4 ,the facts 7and ,i can venture to give nothing more than facts7 are briefly these3-- #b4 ,the mineral called mica1 described in the course of the last chapter1 is closely connected with another1 differing from it in containing a considerable quantity of magnesia4 ,this associated mineral1 called chlorite1 is of a dull greenish color1 and opaque1 while the mica is1 in thin plates1 more or less translucent2 and the chlorite is apt to occur more in the form of a green earth1 or green dust1 than of finely divided plates4 ,the original quantity of magnesia in the rock determines how far the mica shall give place to chlorite2 and in the intermediate conditions of rock we find a black and nearly opaque mica1 containing a good deal of magnesia1 together with a chlorite1 which at first seems mixed with small plates of true mica1 or is itself formed of minute plates or spangles1 and then1 as the quantity of magnesia increases1 assumes its proper form of a dark green earth4 #c4 ,by this appointment there is obtained a series of materials by which the appearance of the rock may be varied to almost any extent4 ,from plates of brilliant white mica half a foot broad1 flashing in the sun like panes of glass1 to a minute film of dark green dust hardly traceable by the eye1 an infinite range of conditions is found in the different groups of rocks2 but always under this general law1 that1 for the most part1 the compact crystallines present the purest and boldest plates of mica2 and the tendency to pass into slaty crystallines is commonly accompanied by the change of the whiteness of the mica to a dark or black color1 indicating 7,i believe7 the presence of magnesia1 and by the gradual intermingling with it of chloritic earth2 or else of a cognate mineral 7differing from chlorite in containing a quantity of lime7 called hornblende4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #e4 ,such1 at least1 is eminently the case in the ,alps2 and in the account ,i have to give of their slaty crystallines1 it must be understood that in using the word mica generally1 ,i mean the more obscure conditions of the mineral1 associated with chlorite and hornblende4 #d4 ,now it is quite easy to understand how1 in the compact crystallines1 the various elements of the rock1 separating from each other as they congealed from their fluid state1 whether of watery solution or fiery fusion1 might arrange themselves in irregular grains as at a in ,fig4 #c1 p4 #ajf4 ,such an arrangement constantly takes place before our eyes in volcanic rocks as they cool4 ,but it is not at all easy to understand how the white1 hard1 and comparatively heavy substances should throw themselves into knots and bands in one definite direction1 and the delicate films of mica should undulate about and between them1 as in ,fig4 #e on page #aad1 like rivers among islands1 pursuing1 however1 on the whole1 a straight course across the mass of rock4 ,if it could be shown that such pieces of stone had been formed in the horizontal position in which ,i have drawn the one in the figure1 the structure would be somewhat intelligible as the result of settlement4 ,but1 on the contrary1 the lines of such foliated rocks hardly ever are horizontal2 neither can distinct evidence be found of their at any time having been so4 ,the evidence1 on the contrary1 is often strongly in favor of their having been formed in the highly inclined directions in which they now occur1 such as that of the piece in ,fig4 #g1 p4 #aag4de ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #f4 #e4 ,such1 however1 is the simple fact1 that when the compact pact crystallines are about to pass into slaty crystallines1 their mica throws itself into these bands and zones1 undulating around knots of the other substances which compose the rock4 ,gradually the knots diminish in size1 the mica becomes more abundant and more definite in direction1 and at last the mass1 when broken across the beds1 assumes the appearance of ,fig4 #f on the last page4#df ,now it will be noticed that1 in the lines of that figure1 no less than in ,fig4 #e1 though more delicately1 there is a subdued1 but continual expression of undulation4 ,this character belongs1 more or less1 to nearly the whole mass of slaty crystalline rocks2 it is one of exquisite beauty1 and of the highest importance to their picturesque forms4 ,it is also one of as great mysteriousness as beauty4 ,for these two figures are selected from crystallines whose beds are remarkably straight2 in the greater number the undulation becomes far more violent1 and1 in many1 passes into absolute contortion4 ,fig4 #g is a piece of a slaty crystalline1 rich in mica1 from the ,valley of ,st4 ,nicolas1 below ,zermatt4 ,the rock from which it was broken was thrown into coils three or four feet across3 the fragment1 which is drawn of the real size1 was at one of the turns1 and came away like a thick portion of a crumpled quire of paper from the other sheets4#dg ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #g4 ,typical character of ,slaty ,crystallines4 #f4 ,i might devote half a volume to a description of the fantastic and incomprehensible arrangement of these rocks and their veins2 but all that is necessary for the general reader to know or remember1 is this broad fact of the undulation of their whole substance4 ,for there is something1 it seems to me1 inexpressibly marvellous in this phenomenon1 largely looked at4 ,it is to be remembered that these are the rocks which1 on the average1 will be oftenest observed1 and with the greatest interest1 by the human race4 ,the central granites are too far removed1 the lower rocks too common1 to be carefully studied2 these slaty crystallines form the noblest hills that are easily accessible1 and seem to be thus calculated especially to attract observation1 and reward it4 ,well1 we begin to examine them2 and first1 we find a notable hardness in them1 and a thorough boldness of general character1 which make us regard them as very types of perfect rocks4 ,they have nothing of the look of dried earth about them1 nothing petty or limited in the display of their bulk4 ,where they are1 they seem to form the world2 no mere bank of a river here1 or of a lane there1 peeping out among the hedges or forests3 but from the lowest valley to the highest clouds1 all is theirs--one adamantine dominion and rigid authority of rock4 ,we yield ourselves to the impression of their eternal1 unconquerable stubbornness of strength2 their mass seems the least yielding1 least to be softened1 or in anywise dealt with by external force1 of all earthly substance4 ,and1 behold1 as we look farther into it1 it is all touched and troubled1 like waves by a summer breeze2 rippled1 far more delicately than seas or lakes are rippled2 they only undulate along their surfaces--this rock trembles through its every fibre1 like the chords of an ,eolian harp--like the stillest air of spring with the echoes of a child's voice4 ,into the heart of all those great mountains1 through every tossing of their boundless crests1 and deep beneath all their unfathomable defiles1 flows that strange quivering of their substance4 ,other and weaker things seem to express their subjection to an ,infinite power only by momentary terrors3 as the weeds bow down before the feverish wind1 and the sound of the going in the tops of the taller trees passes on before the clouds1 and the fitful opening of pale spaces on the dark water as if some invisible hand were casting dust abroad upon it1 gives warning of the anger that is to come1 we may well imagine that there is indeed a fear passing upon the grass1 and leaves1 and waters1 at the presence of some great spirit commissioned to let the tempest loose2 but the terror passes1 and their sweet rest is perpetually restored to the pastures and the waves4 ,not so to the mountains4 ,they1 which at first seem strengthened beyond the dread of any violence or change1 are yet also ordained to bear upon them the symbol of a perpetual ,fear3 the tremor which fades from the soft lake and gliding river is sealed1 to all eternity1 upon the rock2 and while things that pass visibly from birth to death may sometimes forget their feebleness1 the mountains are made to possess a perpetual memorial of their infancy1--that infancy which the prophet saw in his vision3 ,i beheld the earth1 and lo1 it was without form and void1 and the heavens1 and they had no light4 ,i beheld the mountains1 and lo1 they trembled2 and all the hills moved lightly4 ,serviceable characters of the ,slaty ,crystallines4 #a4 ,fitness for building with4 #g4 ,thus far may we trace the apparent typical signification of the structure of those noble rocks4 ,the material uses of this structure are not less important4 ,these substances of the higher mountains1 it is always to be remembered1 were to be so hard as to enable them to be raised into1 and remain in1 the most magnificent forms2 and this hardness renders it a matter of great difficulty for the peasant to break them into such masses as are required for his daily purposes4 ,he is compelled in general to gather the fragments which are to form the walls of his house or his garden from the ruins into which the mountain suffers its ridges to be naturally broken2 and if these pieces were absolutely irregular in shape1 it would be a matter of much labor and skill to build securely with them4 ,but the flattened arrangement of the layers of mica always causes the rock to break into flattish fragments1 requiring hardly any pains in the placing them so as to lie securely in a wall1 and furnishing light1 broad1 and unflawed pieces to serve for slates upon the roof2 for fences1 when set edgeways into the ground2 or for pavements1 when laid flat4 #b4 ,stability in dbris4 #h4 ,farther3 whenever rocks break into utterly irregular fragments1 the masses of dbris which they form are not only excessively difficult to walk over1 but the pieces touch each other in so few points1 and suffer the water to run so easily and so far through their cavities1 that it takes a long series of years to enable them either to settle themselves firmly1 or receive the smallest covering of vegetation4 ,where the substance of the stone is soft1 it may soon be worn down1 so that the irregular form is of less consequence4 ,but in the hard crystallines1 unless they had a tendency to break into flattish fragments1 their ruin would remain for centuries in impassable desolation4 ,the flat shape of the separate pieces prevents this2 it permits--almost necessitates--their fitting into and over each other in a tolerably close mass1 and thus they become comparatively easy to the foot1 less permeable to water1 and therefore retentive both of surface moisture and of the seeds of vegetation4 #c4 ,security on declivities4 #i4 ,there is another result of nearly equal importance as far as regards the habitableness of the hills4 ,when stones are thrown together in rounded or massy blocks1 like a heap of hazel nuts1 small force will sometimes disturb their balance2 and when once set in motion1 a square-built and heavy fragment will thunder down even a slightly sloping declivity1 with an impetus as unlikely to be arrested as fatal in its increase4 ,but when stones lie flatly1 as dead leaves lie1 it is not easy to tilt any one of them upon its edge1 so as to set it in motion2 and when once moved1 it will nearly always slide1 not roll1 and be stopped by the first obstacle it encounters1 catching against it by the edge1 or striking into the turf where first it falls1 like a hatchet4 ,were it not for the merciful ordinance that the slaty crystallines should break into thin and flattish fragments1 the frequent falls of stones from the hill sides would render many spots among the greater mountain chains utterly uninhabitable1 which are now comparatively secure4 #d4 ,tendency to form the loveliest scenery4 #aj4 ,of the picturesque aspects which this mode of cleavage produces in the mountains1 and in the stones of the foreground1 we shall have to speak presently2 with regard to the uses of the materials it is only necessary to note farther that these slaty rocks are of course1 by their wilful way of breaking1 rendered unfit for sculpture1 and for nearly all purposes of art2 the properties which render them convenient for the peasant in building his cottage1 making them unavailable for the architecture of more elaborate edifices4 ,one very great advantage is thus secured for the scenery they compose1 namely1 that it is rarely broken by quarries4 ,a single quarry will often spoil a whole ,alpine landscape2 the effect of the lovely bay of the ,lago ,maggiore1 for instance1 in which lie the ,borromean ,islands1 is1 in great part1 destroyed by the scar caused by a quarry of pink granite on its western shore2 and the valley of ,chamouni itself has lost some of its loveliest rock scenery in consequence of the unfortunate discovery that the boulders which had fallen from its higher pinnacles1 and were lying in massy heaps among its pines1 were available for stone lintels and door-posts in the building of its new inns4 ,but the slaty crystallines1 though sometimes containing valuable mines1 are hardly ever quarried for stone2 and the scenes they compose retain1 in general1 little disturbed by man1 their aspect of melancholy power1 or simple and noble peace4 ,the color of their own mass1 when freshly broken1 is nearly the same as that of the compact crystallines2 but it is far more varied by veins and zones of included minerals1 and contains usually more iron1 which gives a rich brown or golden color to their exposed sides1 so that the coloring of these rocks is the most glowing to be found in the mountain world4 ,they form also soil for vegetation more quickly1 and of a more fruitful kind than the granites1 and appear1 on the whole1 intended to unite every character of grandeur and of beauty1 and to constitute the loveliest as well as the noblest scenes which the earth ever unfolds to the eyes of men4 ,,footnotes #de ,see again ,appendix #b4 ,slaty ,cleavage4 #df ,this is a piece of the gneiss of the ,montanvert1 near the ,chlets of ,blaitire dessous4 #dg ,some idea may be formed of the nature of these incurvations by supposing the gneiss beds to have been in a plastic state1 either from the action of heat or of some other unknown cause1 and1 while in this state1 to have been subjected to pressure at the two extremities1 or in some other parts1 according to the nature of the curvatures4 ,but even this hypothesis 7though the best that has been thought of7 will scarcely enable us to explain all the contortions which not merely the beds of gneiss1 but likewise of mica slate and clay slate1 and even greywacke slate1 exhibit4 ,there is a bed of clay slate near the ferry to ,kerrera1 a few miles south of ,oban1 in ,argyleshire4 ,this bed has been partly wasted away by the sea1 and its structure exposed to view4 ,it contains a central cylindrical nucleus of unknown length 7but certainly considerable71 round which six beds of clay slate are wrapt1 the one within the other1 so as to form six concentric cylinders4 ,now1 however plastic the clay slate may have been1 there is no kind of pressure which will account for this structure2 the central cylinder would have required to have been rolled six times in succession 7allowing an interval for solidification between each7 in the plastic clay slate4--,outlines of ,mineralogy1 ,geology1 c41 by ,thomas ,thomson1 ,m4,d4 ,,chapter ,x4 ,,of ,,the ,,materials ,,of ,,mountains3--,,thirdly1 ,,slaty ,,coherents4 #a4 ,it will be remembered that we resolved to give generally the term coherent to those rocks which appeared to be composed of one compact substance1 not of several materials4 ,but1 as in all the arrangements of ,nature we find that her several classes pass into each other by imperceptible gradations1 and that there is no ruling of red lines between one and the other1 we need not suppose that we shall find any plainly distinguishable limit between the crystalline and coherent rocks4 ,sometimes1 indeed1 a very distinctly marked crystalline will be joined by a coherent rock so sharply and neatly that it is possible to break off specimens1 no larger than a walnut1 containing portions of each2 but far more frequently the transition from one to the other is effected gradually2 or1 if not1 there exist1 at any rate1 in other places intervening1 a series of rocks which possess an imperfectly crystalline character1 passing down into that of simple coherence4 ,this transition is usually effected through the different kinds of slate2 the slaty crystallines becoming more and more fine in texture1 until at last they appear composed of nothing but very fine mica or chlorite2 and this mass of micaceous substance becomes more and more compact and silky in texture1 losing its magnesia1 and containing more of the earth which forms the substance of clay1 until at last it assumes the familiar appearance of roofing-slate1 the noblest example of the coherent rocks4 ,i call it the noblest1 as being the nearest to the crystallines1 and possessing much in common with them4 ,connected with this well-known substance are enormous masses of other rocks1 more or less resembling it in character1 of which the following are universal characteristics4 ,characteristics of ,slaty ,coherents4 #a4 ,softness of texture4 #b4 ,lamination of structure4 #b4 ,first4 ,they nearly always1 as just said1 contain more of the earth1 which is the basis of clay1 than the crystalline rocks2 and they can be scratched or crushed with much greater facility4 ,the point of a knife will trace a continuous powdery streak upon most of the coherent rocks2 while it will be quite powerless against a large portion of the granular knots in the crystallines4 ,besides this actual softness of substance1 the slaty coherents are capable of very fine division into flakes1 not irregularly and contortedly1 like the crystallines1 but straightly1 so as to leave a silky lustre on the sides of the fragments1 as in roofing slate2 and separating with great ease1 yielding to a slight pressure against the edge4 ,consequently1 although the slaty coherents are capable of forming large and bold mountains1 they are liable to all kinds of destruction and decay in a far greater degree than the crystallines2 giving way in large masses under frost1 and crumbling into heaps of flaky rubbish1 which in its turn dissolves or is ground down into impalpable dust or mud1 and carried to great distances by the mountain streams4 ,these characters render the slaty coherents peculiarly adapted for the support of vegetation2 and as1 though apparently homogeneous1 they usually contain as many chemical elements as the crystallines1 they constitute 7as far as regards the immediate nourishment of soils7 the most important part of mountain ranges4 #c4 ,darkness and blueness in color4 #c4 ,i have already often had occasion to allude to the apparent connexion of brilliancy of color with vigor of life1 or purity of substance4 ,this is preeminently the case in the mineral kingdom4 ,the perfection with which the particles of any substance unite in crystallization corresponds1 in that kingdom1 to the vital power in organic nature2 and it is a universal law1 that according to the purity of any substance1 and according to the energy of its crystallization1 is its beauty or brightness4 ,pure earths are without exception white when in powder2 and the same earths which are the constituents of clay and sand1 form1 when crystallized1 the emerald1 ruby1 sapphire1 amethyst1 and opal4 ,darkness and dulness of color are the universal signs of dissolution1 or disorderly mingling of elements4#dh #d4 ,accordingly1 these slaty coherents1 being usually composed of many elements imperfectly united1 are also for the most part grey1 black1 or dull purple2 those which are purest and hardest verging most upon purple1 and some of them in certain lights displaying1 on their smooth sides1 very beautiful zones and changeful spaces of grey1 russet1 and obscure blue4 ,but even this beauty is strictly connected with their preservation of such firmness of form as properly belongs to them2 it is seen chiefly on their even and silky surfaces2 less1 in comparison1 upon their broken edges1 and is lost altogether when they are reduced to powder4 ,they then form a dull grey dust1 or1 with moisture1 a black slime1 of great value as a vegetative earth1 but of intense ugliness when it occurs in extended spaces in mountain scenery4 ,and thus the slaty coherents are often employed to form those landscapes of which the purpose appears to be to impress us with a sense of horror and pain1 as a foil to neighboring scenes of extreme beauty4 ,there are many spots among the inferior ridges of the ,alps1 such as the ,col de ,ferret1 the ,col d',anterne1 and the associated ranges of the ,buet1 which1 though commanding prospects of great nobleness1 are themselves very nearly types of all that is most painful to the human mind4 ,vast wastes of mountain ground1 covered here and there with dull grey grass1 or moss1 but breaking continually into black banks of shattered slate1 all glistening and sodden with slow tricklings of clogged1 incapable streams2 the snow water oozing through them in a cold sweat1 and spreading itself in creeping stains among their dust2 ever and anon a shaking here and there1 and a handful or two of their particles or flakes trembling down1 one sees not why1 into more total dissolution1 leaving a few jagged teeth1 like the edges of knives eaten away by vinegar1 projecting through the half-dislodged mass from the inner rock1 keen enough to cut the hand or foot that rests on them1 yet crumbling as they wound1 and soon sinking again into the smooth1 slippery1 glutinous heap1 looking like a beach of black scales of dead fish1 cast ashore from a poisonous sea1 and sloping away into foul ravines1 branched down immeasurable slopes of barrenness1 where the winds howl and wander continually1 and the snow lies in wasted and sorrowful fields1 covered with sooty dust1 that collects in streaks and stains at the bottom of all its thawing ripples4 ,i know no other scenes so appalling as these in storm1 or so woful in sunshine4 #d4 ,great power of supporting vegetation4 #e4 ,where1 however1 these same rocks exist in more favorable positions1 that is to say1 in gentler banks and at lower elevations1 they form a ground for the most luxuriant vegetation2 and the valleys of ,savoy owe to them some of their loveliest solitudes1--exquisitely rich pastures1 interspersed with arable and orchard land1 and shaded by groves of walnut and cherry4 ,scenes of this kind1 and of that just described1 so singularly opposed1 and apparently brought together as foils to each other1 are1 however1 peculiar to certain beds of the slaty coherents1 which are both vast in elevation1 and easy of destruction4 ,in ,wales and ,scotland1 the same groups of rocks possess far greater hardness1 while they attain less elevation2 and the result is a totally different aspect of scenery4 ,the severity of the climate1 and the comparative durableness of the rock1 forbid the rich vegetation2 but the exposed summits1 though barren1 are not subject to laws of destruction so rapid and fearful as in ,switzerland2 and the natural color of the rock is oftener developed in the purples and greys which1 mingled with the heather1 form the principal elements of the deep and beautiful distant blue of the ,british hills4 ,their gentler mountain streams also permit the beds of rock to remain in firm1 though fantastic1 forms along their banks1 and the gradual action of the cascades and eddies upon the slaty cleavage produces many pieces of foreground scenery to which higher hills can present no parallel4 ,of these peculiar conditions we shall have to speak at length in another place4 #e4 ,adaptation to architecture and the fine arts4 #f4 ,as far as regards ministry to the purposes of man1 the slaty coherents are of somewhat more value than the slaty crystallines4 ,most of them can be used in the same way for rough buildings1 while they furnish finer plates or sheets for roofing4 ,it would be difficult1 perhaps1 to estimate the exact importance of their educational influence in the form of drawing-slate4 ,for sculpture they are1 of course1 altogether unfit1 but ,i believe certain finer conditions of them are employed for a dark ground in ,florentine mosaic4 #g4 ,it remains only to be noticed1 that the direction of the lamination 7or separation into small folio7 is1 in these rocks1 not always1 nor even often indicative of the true direction of their larger beds4 ,it is not1 however1 necessary for the reader to enter into questions of such complicated nature as those which belong to the study of slaty cleavage2 and only a few points1 which ,i could not pass over1 are noted in the ,appendix2 but it is necessary to observe here1 that all rocks1 however constituted1 or however disposed1 have certain ways of breaking in one direction rather than another1 and separating themselves into blocks by means of smooth cracks or fissures1 technically called joints1 which often influence their forms more than either the position of their beds1 or their slaty lamination2 and always are conspicuous in their weathered masses4 ,of these1 however1 as it would be wearisome to enter into more detail at present1 ,i rather choose to speak incidentally1 as we meet with examples of their results in the scenery we have to study more particularly4 ,,footnotes #dh ,compare the close of #aa1 ,chap4 ,,iii4 ,vol4 ,,iii41 and1 here1 ,chap4 ,,iii4 #bc4 ,,chapter ,,xi4 ,,of ,,the ,,materials ,,of ,,mountains3--,,fourthly1 ,,compact ,,coherents4 #a4 ,this group of rocks1 the last we have to examine1 is1 as far as respects geographical extent and usefulness to the human race1 more important than any of the preceding ones4 ,it forms the greater part of all low hills and uplands throughout the world1 and supplies the most valuable materials for building and sculpture1 being distinguished from the group of the slaty coherents by its incapability of being separated into thin sheets4 ,all the rocks belonging to the group break irregularly1 like loaf sugar or dried clay4 ,some of them are composed of hardened calcareous matter1 and are known as limestone2 others are merely hardened sand1 and are called freestone or sandstone2 and others1 appearing to consist of dry mud or clay1 are of less general importance1 and receive different names in different localities4 #b4 ,among these rocks1 the foremost position is1 of course1 occupied by the great group of the marbles1 of which the substance appears to have been prepared expressly in order to afford to human art a perfect means of carrying out its purposes4 ,they are of exactly the necessary hardness1--neither so soft as to be incapable of maintaining themselves in delicate forms1 nor so hard as always to require a blow to give effect to the sculptor's touch2 the mere pressure of his chisel produces a certain1 effect upon them4 ,the color of the white varieties is of exquisite delicacy1 owing to the partial translucency of the pure rock2 and it has always appeared to me a most wonderful ordinance1--one of the most marked pieces of purpose in the creation1--that all the variegated kinds should be comparatively opaque1 so as to set off the color on the surface1 while the white1 which if it had been opaque would have looked somewhat coarse 7as1 for instance1 common chalk does71 is rendered just translucent enough to give an impression of extreme purity1 but not so translucent as to interfere in the least with the distinctness of any forms into which it is wrought4 ,the colors of variegated marbles are also for the most part very beautiful1 especially those composed of purple1 amber1 and green1 with white2 and there seems to be something notably attractive to the human mind in the vague and veined labyrinths of their arrangements4 ,they are farther marked as the prepared material for human work by the dependence of their beauty on smoothness of surface2 for their veins are usually seen but dimly in the native rock2 and the colors they assume under the action of weather are inferior to those of the crystallines3 it is not until wrought and polished by man that they show their character4 ,finally1 they do not decompose4 ,the exterior surface is sometimes destroyed by a sort of mechanical disruption of its outer flakes1 but rarely to the extent in which such action takes place in other rocks2 and the most delicate sculptures1 if executed in good marble1 will remain for ages undeteriorated4 #c4 ,quarries of marble are1 however1 rare1 and we owe the greatest part of the good architecture of this world to the more ordinary limestones and sandstones1 easily obtainable in blocks of considerable size1 and capable of being broken1 sawn1 or sculptured with ease2 the color1 generally grey1 or warm red 7the yellow and white varieties becoming grey with age71 being exactly that which will distinguish buildings by an agreeable contrast from the vegetation by which they may be surrounded4 ,to these inferior conditions of the compact coherence we owe also the greater part of the pretty scenery of the inhabited globe4 ,the sweet winding valleys1 with peeping cliffs on either side2 the light1 irregular wanderings of broken streamlets2 the knolls and slopes covered with rounded woods2 the narrow ravines1 carpeted with greensward1 and haunted by traditions of fairy or gnome2 the jutting crags1 crowned by the castle or watch-tower2 the white sea-cliff and sheep-fed down2 the long succession of coteau1 sunburnt1 and bristling with vines1--all these owe whatever they have of simple beauty to the peculiar nature of the group of rocks of which we are speaking2 a group which1 though occasionally found in mountain masses of magnificent form and size1 is on the whole characterized by a comparative smallness of scale1 and a tendency to display itself less in true mountains than in elevated downs or plains1 through which winding valleys1 more or less deep1 are cut by the action of the streams4 #d4 ,it has been said that this group of rocks is distinguished by its incapability of being separated into sheets4 ,this is only true of it in small portions1 for it is usually deposited in beds or layers of irregular thickness1 which are easily separable from each other2 and when1 as not unfrequently happens1 some of these beds are only half an inch or a quarter of an inch thick1 the rock appears to break into flat plates like a slaty coherent4 ,but this appearance is deceptive4 ,however thin the bed may be1 it will be found that it is in its own substance compact1 and not separable into two other beds2 but the true slaty coherents possess a delicate slatiness of structure1 carried into their most minute portions1 so that however thin a piece of them may be1 it is usually possible1 if we have instruments fine enough1 to separate it into two still thinner flakes4 ,as1 however1 the slaty and compact crystallines1 so also the slaty and compact coherents pass into each other by subtle gradations1 and present many intermediate conditions1 very obscure and indefinable4 #e4 ,i said just now that the colors of the compact coherents were usually such as would pleasantly distinguish buildings from vegetation4 ,they are so2 but considered as abstract hues1 are yet far less agreeable than those of the nobler and older rocks4 ,and it is to be noticed1 that as these inferior rocks are the materials with which we usually build1 they form the ground of the idea suggested to most men's minds by the word stone1 and therefore the general term stone-color is used in common parlance as expressive of the hue to which the compact coherents for the most part approximate4 ,by stone-color ,i suppose we all understand a sort of tawny grey1 with too much yellow in it to be called cold1 and too little to be called warm4 ,and it is quite true that over enormous districts of ,europe1 composed of what are technically known as ,jura and mountain limestones1 and various pale sandstones1 such is generally the color of any freshly broken rock which peeps out along the sides of their gentler hills4 ,it becomes a little greyer as it is colored by time1 but never reaches anything like the noble hues of the gneiss and slate2 the very lichens which grow upon it are poorer and paler2 and although the deep wood mosses will sometimes bury it altogether in golden cushions1 the minor mosses1 whose office is to decorate and chequer the rocks without concealing them1 are always more meagrely set on these limestones than on the crystallines4 #f4 ,i never have had time to examine and throw into classes the varieties of the mosses which grow on the two kinds of rock1 nor have ,i been able to ascertain whether there are really numerous differences between the species1 or whether they only grow more luxuriantly on the crystallines than on the coherents4 ,but this is certain1 that on the broken rocks of the foreground in the crystalline groups the mosses seem to set themselves consentfully and deliberately to the task of producing the most exquisite harmonies of color in their power4 ,they will not conceal the form of the rock1 but will gather over it in little brown bosses1 like small cushions of velvet made of mixed threads of dark ruby silk and gold1 rounded over more subdued films of white and grey1 with lightly crisped and curled edges like hoar frost on fallen leaves1 and minute clusters of upright orange stalks with pointed caps1 and fibres of deep green1 and gold1 and faint purple passing into black1 all woven together1 and following with unimaginable fineness of gentle growth the undulation of the stone they cherish1 until it is charged with color so that it can receive no more2 and instead of looking rugged1 or cold1 or stern1 as anything that a rock is held to be at heart1 it seems to be clothed with a soft1 dark leopard skin1 embroidered with arabesque of purple and silver4 ,but in the lower ranges this is not so4 ,the mosses grow in more independent spots1 not in such a clinging and tender way over the whole surface2 the lichens are far poorer and fewer2 and the color of the stone itself is seen more frequently2 altered1 if at all1 only into a little chiller grey than when it is freshly broken4 ,so that a limestone landscape is apt to be dull1 and cold in general tone1 with some aspect even of barrenness4 ,the sandstones are much richer in vegetation3 there are1 perhaps1 no scenes in our own island more interesting than the wooded dingles which traverse them1 the red rocks growing out on either side1 and shelving down into the pools of their deep brown rivers1 as at ,jedburgh and ,langholme2 the steep oak copses climbing the banks1 the paler plumes of birch shaking themselves free into the light of the sky above1 and the few arches of the monastery where the fields in the glen are greenest1 or the stones of the border tower where its cliffs are steepest1 rendering both field and cliff a thousandfold more dear to the heart and sight4 ,but deprived of associations1 and compared in their mere natural beauty with the ravines of the central ranges1 there can be no question but that even the loveliest passages of such scenery are imperfect and poor in foreground color4 ,and at first there would seem to be an unfairness in this1 unlike the usual system of compensation which so often manifests itself throughout nature4 ,the higher mountains have their scenes of power and vastness1 their blue precipices and cloud-like snows3 why should they also have the best and fairest colors given to their foreground rocks1 and overburden the human mind with wonder2 while the less majestic scenery1 tempting us to the observance of details for which amidst the higher mountains we had no admiration left1 is yet1 in the beauty of those very details1 as inferior as it is in scale of magnitude8 #g4 ,i believe the answer must be1 simply1 that it is not good for man to live among what is most beautiful2--that he is a creature incapable of satisfaction by anything upon earth2 and that to allow him habitually to possess1 in any kind whatsoever1 the utmost that earth can give1 is the surest way to cast him into lassitude or discontent4 ,if the most exquisite orchestral music could be continued without a pause for a series of years1 and children were brought up and educated in the room in which it was perpetually resounding1 ,i believe their enjoyment of music1 or understanding of it1 would be very small4 ,and an accurately parallel effect seems to be produced upon the powers of contemplation1 by the redundant and ceaseless loveliness of the high mountain districts4 ,the faculties are paralyzed by the abundance1 and cease1 as we before noticed of the imagination1 to be capable of excitement1 except by other subjects of interest than those which present themselves to the eye4 ,so that it is1 in reality1 better for mankind that the forms of their common landscape should offer no violent stimulus to the emotions1--that the gentle upland1 browned by the bending furrows of the plough1 and the fresh sweep of the chalk down1 and the narrow winding of the copse-clad dingle1 should be more frequent scenes of human life than the ,arcadias of cloud-capped mountain or luxuriant vale2 and that1 while humbler 7though always infinite7 sources of interest are given to each of us around the homes to which we are restrained for the greater part of our lives1 these mightier and stranger glories should become the objects of adventure1--at once the cynosures of the fancies of childhood1 and themes of the happy memory1 and the winter's tale of age4 #h4 ,nor is it always that the inferiority is felt4 ,for1 so natural is it to the human heart to fix itself in hope rather than in present possession1 and so subtle is the charm which the imagination casts over what is distant or denied1 that there is often a more touching power in the scenes which contain far-away promise of something greater than themselves1 than in those which exhaust the treasures and powers of ,nature in an unconquerable and excellent glory1 leaving nothing more to be by the fancy pictured1 or pursued4 ,i do not know that there is a district in the world more calculated to illustrate this power of the expectant imagination1 than that which surrounds the city of ,fribourg in ,switzerland1 extending from it towards ,berne4 ,it is of grey sandstone1 considerably elevated1 but presenting no object of striking interest to the passing traveller2 so that1 as it is generally seen in the course of a hasty journey from the ,bernese ,alps to those of ,savoy1 it is rarely regarded with any other sensation than that of weariness1 all the more painful because accompanied with reaction from the high excitement caused by the splendor of the ,bernese ,oberland4 ,the traveller1 footsore1 feverish1 and satiated with glacier and precipice1 lies back in the corner of the diligence1 perceiving little more than that the road is winding and hilly1 and the country through which it passes cultivated and tame4 ,let him1 however1 only do this tame country the justice of staying in it a few days1 until his mind has recovered its tone1 and take one or two long walks through its fields1 and he will have other thoughts of it4 ,it is1 as ,i said1 an undulating district of grey sandstone1 never attaining any considerable height1 but having enough of the mountain spirit to throw itself into continual succession of bold slope and dale2 elevated1 also1 just far enough above the sea to render the pine a frequent forest tree along its irregular ridges4 ,through this elevated tract the river cuts its way in a ravine some five or six hundred feet in depth1 which winds for leagues between the gentle hills1 unthought of1 until its edge is approached2 and then suddenly1 through the boughs of the firs1 the eye perceives1 beneath1 the green and gliding stream1 and the broad walls of sandstone cliff that form its banks2 hollowed out where the river leans against them1 at its turns1 into perilous overhanging1 and1 on the other shore1 at the same spots1 leaving little breadths of meadow between them and the water1 half-overgrown with thicket1 deserted in their sweetness1 inaccessible from above1 and rarely visited by any curious wanderers along the hardly traceable footpath which struggles for existence beneath the rocks4 ,and there the river ripples1 and eddies1 and murmurs in an utter solitude4 ,it is passing through the midst of a thickly peopled country2 but never was a stream so lonely4 ,the feeblest and most far-away torrent among the high hills has its companions3 the goats browse beside it2 and the traveller drinks from it1 and passes over it with his staff2 and the peasant traces a new channel for it down to his mill-wheel4 ,but this stream has no companions3 it flows on in an infinite seclusion1 not secret nor threatening1 but a quietness of sweet daylight and open air1--a broad space of tender and deep desolateness1 drooped into repose out of the midst of human labor and life2 the waves plashing lowly1 with none to hear them2 and the wild birds building in the boughs1 with none to fray them away2 and the soft1 fragrant herbs rising1 and breathing1 and fading1 with no hand to gather them2--and yet all bright and bare to the clouds above1 and to the fresh fall of the passing sunshine and pure rain4 #i4 ,but above the brows of those scarped cliffs1 all is in an instant changed4 ,a few steps only beyond the firs that stretch their branches1 angular1 and wild1 and white1 like forks of lightning1 into the air of the ravine1 and we are in an arable country of the most perfect richness2 the swathes of its corn glowing and burning from field to field2 its pretty hamlets all vivid with fruitful orchards and flowery gardens1 and goodly with steep-roofed storehouse and barn2 its well-kept1 hard1 park-like roads rising and falling from hillside to hillside1 or disappearing among brown banks of moss1 and thickets of the wild raspberry and rose2 or gleaming through lines of tall trees1 half glade1 half avenue1 where the gate opens1 or the gateless path turns trustedly aside1 unhindered1 into the garden of some statelier house1 surrounded in rural pride with its golden hives1 and carved granaries1 and irregular domain of latticed and espaliered cottages1 gladdening to look upon in their delicate homeliness--delicate1 yet1 in some sort1 rude2 not like our ,english homes--trim1 laborious1 formal1 irreproachable in comfort2 but with a peculiar carelessness and largeness in all their detail1 harmonizing with the outlawed loveliness of their country4 ,for there is an untamed strength even in all that soft and habitable land4 ,it is1 indeed1 gilded with corn and fragrant with deep grass1 but it is not subdued to the plough or to the scythe4 ,it gives at its own free will1--it seems to have nothing wrested from it nor conquered in it4 ,it is not redeemed from desertness1 but unrestrained in fruitfulness1--a generous land1 bright with capricious plenty1 and laughing from vale to vale in fitful fulness1 kind and wild2 nor this without some sterner element mingled in the heart of it4 ,for along all its ridges stand the dark masses of innumerable pines1 taking no part in its gladness1 asserting themselves for ever as fixed shadows1 not to be pierced or banished1 even in the intensest sunlight2 fallen flakes and fragments of the night1 stayed in their solemn squares in the midst of all the rosy bendings of the orchard boughs1 and yellow effulgence of the harvest1 and tracing themselves in black network and motionless fringes against the blanched blue of the horizon in its saintly clearness4 ,and yet they do not sadden the landscape1 but seem to have been set there chiefly to show how bright everything else is round them2 and all the clouds look of purer silver1 and all the air seems filled with a whiter and more living sunshine1 where they are pierced by the sable points of the pines2 and all the pastures look of more glowing green1 where they run up between the purple trunks3 and the sweet field footpaths skirt the edges of the forest for the sake of its shade1 sloping up and down about the slippery roots1 and losing themselves every now and then hopelessly among the violets1 and ground ivy1 and brown sheddings of the fibrous leaves2 and1 at last1 plunging into some open aisle where the light through the distant stems shows that there is a chance of coming out again on the other side2 and coming out1 indeed1 in a little while1 from the scented darkness1 into the dazzling air and marvellous landscape1 that stretches still farther and farther in new wilfulness of grove and garden1 until1 at last1 the craggy mountains of the ,simmenthal rise out of it1 sharp into the rolling of the southern clouds4 #aj4 ,i believe1 for general development of human intelligence and sensibility1 country of this kind is about the most perfect that exists4 ,a richer landscape1 as that of ,italy1 enervates1 or causes wantonness2 a poorer contracts the conceptions1 and hardens the temperament of both mind and body2 and one more curiously or prominently beautiful deadens the sense of beauty4 ,even what is here of attractiveness1--far exceeding1 as it does that of most of the thickly peopled districts of the temperate zone1--seems to act harmfully on the poetical character of the ,swiss2 but take its inhabitants all in all1 as with deep love and stern penetration they are painted in the works of their principal writer1 ,gotthelf1 and ,i believe we shall not easily find a peasantry which would completely sustain comparison with them4 #aa4 ,but be this as it may1 it is certain that the compact coherent rocks are appointed to form the greatest part of the earth's surface1 and by their utility1 and easily changed and governed qualities1 to tempt man to dwell among them2 being1 however1 in countries not definitely mountainous1 usually covered to a certain depth by those beds of loose gravel and sand to which we agreed to give the name of diluvium4 ,there is nothing which will require to be noted respecting these last1 except the forms into which they are brought by the action of water2 and the account of these belongs properly to the branch of inquiry which follows next in the order we proposed to ourselves1 namely1 that touching the sculpture of mountains1 to which it will be best to devote some separate chapters2 this only being noted in conclusion respecting the various rocks whose nature we have been describing1 that out of the entire series of them we may obtain almost every color pleasant to human sight1 not the less so for being generally a little softened or saddened4 ,thus we have beautiful subdued reds1 reaching tones of deep purple1 in the porphyries1 and of pale rose color1 in the granites2 every kind of silvery and leaden grey1 passing into purple1 in the slates2 deep green1 and every hue of greenish grey1 in the volcanic rocks and serpentines2 rich orange1 and golden brown1 in the gneiss2 black1 in the lias limestones2 and all these1 together with pure white1 in the marbles4 ,one color only we hardly ever get in an exposed rock--that dull brown which we noticed above1 in speaking of color generally1 as the most repulsive of all hues2 every approximation to it is softened by nature1 when exposed to the atmosphere1 into a purple grey4 ,all this can hardly be otherwise interpreted1 than as prepared for the delight and recreation of man2 and ,i trust that the time may soon come when these beneficent and beautiful gifts of color may be rightly felt and wisely employed1 and when the variegated fronts of our houses may render the term stone-color as little definite in the mind of the architect as that of flower-color would be to the horticulturist4 ,,chapter ,,xii4 ,,on ,,the ,,sculpture ,,of ,,mountains3--,,first1 ,,the ,,lateral ,,ranges4 #a4 ,close beside the path by which travellers ascend the ,montanvert from the valley of ,chamouni1 on the right hand1 where it first begins to rise among the pines1 there descends a small stream from the foot of the granite peak known to the guides as the ,aiguille ,charmoz4 ,it is concealed from the traveller by a thicket of alder1 and its murmur is hardly heard1 for it is one of the weakest streams of the valley4 ,but it is a constant stream2 fed by a permanent though small glacier1 and continuing to flow even to the close of the summer1 when more copious torrents1 depending only on the melting of the lower snows1 have left their beds stony channels in the sun4 ,i suppose that my readers must be generally aware that glaciers are masses of ice in slow motion1 at the rate of from ten to twenty inches a day1 and that the stones which are caught between them and the rocks over which they pass1 or which are embedded in the ice and dragged along by it over those rocks1 are of course subjected to a crushing and grinding power altogether unparalleled by any other force in constant action4 ,the dust to which these stones are reduced by the friction is carried down by the streams which flow from the melting glacier1 so that the water which in the morning may be pure1 owing what little strength it has chiefly to the rock springs1 is in the afternoon not only increased in volume1 but whitened with dissolved dust of granite1 in proportion to the heat of the preceding hours of the day1 and to the power and size of the glacier which feeds it4 #b4 ,the long drought which took place in the autumn of the year #ahed1 sealing every source of waters except these perpetual ones1 left the torrent of which ,i am speaking1 and such others1 in a state peculiarly favorable to observance of their least action on the mountains from which they descend4 ,they were entirely limited to their own ice fountains1 and the quantity of powdered rock which they brought down was1 of course1 at its minimum1 being nearly unmingled with any earth derived from the dissolution of softer soil1 or vegetable mould1 by rains4 ,at three in the afternoon1 on a warm day in ,september1 when the torrent had reached its average maximum strength for the day1 ,i filled an ordinary ,bordeaux wine-flask with the water where it was least turbid4 ,from this quart of water ,i obtained twenty-four grains of sand and sediment1 more or less fine4 ,i cannot estimate the quantity of water in the stream2 but the runlet of it at which ,i filled the flask was giving about two hundred bottles a minute1 or rather more1 carrying down therefore about three quarters of a pound of powdered granite every minute4 ,this would be forty-five pounds an hour2 but allowing for the inferior power of the stream in the cooler periods of the day1 and taking into consideration1 on the other side1 its increased power in rain1 we may1 ,i think1 estimate its average hour's work at twenty-eight or thirty pounds1 or a hundred weight every four hours4 ,by this insignificant runlet1 therefore1 some four inches wide and four inches deep1 rather more than two tons of the substance of the ,mont ,blanc are displaced1 and carried down a certain distance every week2 and as it is only for three or four months that the flow of the stream is checked by frost1 we may certainly allow eighty tons for the mass which it annually moves4 #c4 ,it is not worth while to enter into any calculation of the relation borne by this runlet to the great torrents which descend from the chain of ,mont ,blanc into the valley of ,chamouni4 ,to call it the thousandth part of the glacier waters1 would give a ludicrous under-estimate of their total power2 but even so calling it1 we should find for result that eighty thousand tons of mountain must be yearly transformed into drifted sand1 and carried down a certain distance4#di ,how much greater than this is the actual quantity so transformed ,i cannot tell2 but take this quantity as certain1 and consider that this represents merely the results of the labor of the constant summer streams1 utterly irrespective of all sudden falls of stones and of masses of mountain 7a single thunderbolt will sometimes leave a scar on the flank of a soft rock1 looking like a trench for a railroad72 and we shall then begin to apprehend something of the operation of the great laws of change1 which are the conditions of all material existence1 however apparently enduring4 ,the hills1 which1 as compared with living beings1 seem everlasting1 are1 in truth1 as perishing as they3 its veins of flowing fountain weary the mountain heart1 as the crimson pulse does ours2 the natural force of the iron crag is abated in its appointed time1 like the strength of the sinews in a human old age2 and it is but the lapse of the longer years of decay which1 in the sight of its ,creator1 distinguishes the mountain range from the moth and the worm4 #d4 ,and hence two questions arise of the deepest interest4 ,from what first created forms were the mountains brought into their present condition8 into what forms will they change in the course of ages8 ,was the world anciently in a more or less perfect state than it is now8 was it less or more fitted for the habitation of the human race8 and are the changes which it is now undergoing favorable to that race or not8 ,the present conformation of the earth appears dictated1 as has been shown in the preceding chapters1 by supreme wisdom and kindness4 ,and yet its former state must have been different from what it is now2 as its present one from that which it must assume hereafter4 ,is this1 therefore1 the earth's prime into which we are born2 or is it1 with all its beauty1 only the wreck of ,paradise8 ,i cannot entangle the reader in the intricacy of the inquiries necessary for anything like a satisfactory solution of these questions4 ,but1 were he to engage in such inquiries1 their result would be his strong conviction of the earth's having been brought from a state in which it was utterly uninhabitable into one fitted for man2--of its having been1 when first inhabitable1 more beautiful than it is now2 and of its gradually tending to still greater inferiority of aspect1 and unfitness for abode4 ,it has1 indeed1 been the endeavor of some geologists to prove that destruction and renovation are continually proceeding simultaneously in mountains as well as in organic creatures2 that while existing eminences are being slowly lowered1 others1 in order to supply their place1 are being slowly elevated2 and that what is lost in beauty or healthiness in one spot is gained in another4 ,but ,i cannot assent to such a conclusion4 ,evidence altogether incontrovertible points to a state of the earth in which it could be tenanted only by lower animals1 fitted for the circumstances under which they lived by peculiar organizations4 ,from this state it is admitted gradually to have been brought into that in which we now see it2 and the circumstances of the existing dispensation1 whatever may be the date of its endurance1 seem to me to point not less clearly to an end than to an origin2 to a creation1 when the earth was without form and void1 and to a close1 when it must either be renovated or destroyed4 #e4 ,in one sense1 and in one only1 the idea of a continuous order of things is admissible1 in so far as the phenomena which introduced1 and those which are to terminate1 the existing dispensation1 may have been1 and may in future be1 nothing more than a gigantic development of agencies which are in continual operation around us4 ,the experience we possess of volcanic agency is not yet large enough to enable us to set limits to its force2 and as we see the rarity of subterraneous action generally proportioned to its violence1 there may be appointed1 in the natural order of things1 convulsions to take place after certain epochs1 on a scale which the human race has not yet lived long enough to witness4 ,the soft silver cloud which writhes innocently on the crest of ,vesuvius1 rests there without intermission2 but the fury which lays cities in sepulchres of lava bursts forth only after intervals of centuries2 and the still fiercer indignation of the greater volcanoes1 which make half the globe vibrate with earthquake1 and shrivels up whole kingdoms with flame1 is recorded only in dim distances of history3 so that it is not irrational to admit that there may yet be powers dormant1 not destroyed1 beneath the apparently calm surface of the earth1 whose date of rest is the endurance of the human race1 and whose date of action must be that of its doom4 ,but whether such colossal agencies are indeed in the existing order of things or not1 still the effective truth1 for us1 is one and the same4 ,the earth1 as a tormented and trembling ball1 may have rolled in space for myriads of ages before humanity was formed from its dust2 and as a devastated ruin it may continue to roll1 when all that dust shall again have been mingled with ashes that never were warmed by life1 or polluted by sin4 ,but for us the intelligible and substantial fact is that the earth has been brought1 by forces we know not of1 into a form fitted for our habitation3 on that form a gradual1 but destructive1 change is continually taking place1 and the course of that change points clearly to a period when it will no more be fitted for the dwelling-place of men4 #f4 ,it is1 therefore1 not so much what these forms of the earth actually are1 as what they are continually becoming1 that we have to observe2 nor is it possible thus to observe them without an instinctive reference to the first state out of which they have been brought4 ,the existing torrent has dug its bed a thousand feet deep4 ,but in what form was the mountain originally raised which gave that torrent its track and power8 ,the existing precipice is wrought into towers and bastions by the perpetual fall of its fragments4 ,in what form did it stand before a single fragment fell8 ,yet to such questions1 continually suggesting themselves1 it is never possible to give a complete answer4 ,for a certain distance1 the past work of existing forces can be traced2 but there gradually the mist gathers1 and the footsteps of more gigantic agencies are traceable in the darkness2 and still1 as we endeavor to penetrate farther and farther into departed time1 the thunder of the ,almighty power sounds louder and louder2 and the clouds gather broader and more fearfully1 until at last the ,sinai of the world is seen altogether upon a smoke1 and the fence of its foot is reached1 which none can break through4 #g4 ,if1 therefore1 we venture to advance towards the spot where the cloud first comes down1 it is rather with the purpose of fully pointing out that there is a cloud1 than of entering into it4 ,it is well to have been fully convinced of the existence of the mystery1 in an age far too apt to suppose that everything which is visible is explicable1 and everything that is present1 eternal4 ,but besides ascertaining the existence of this mystery1 we shall perhaps be able to form some new conjectures respecting the facts of mountain aspects in the past ages4 ,not respecting the processes or powers to which the hills owe their origin1 but respecting the aspect they first assumed4 #h4 ,for it is evident that1 through all their ruin1 some traces must still exist of the original contours4 ,the directions in which the mass gives way must have been dictated by the disposition of its ancient sides2 and the currents of the streams that wear its flanks must still1 in great part1 follow the course of the primal valleys4 ,so that1 in the actual form of any mountain peak1 there must usually be traceable the shadow or skeleton of its former self2 like the obscure indications of the first frame of a war-worn tower1 preserved1 in some places1 under the heap of its ruins1 in others to be restored in imagination from the thin remnants of its tottering shell2 while here and there1 in some sheltered spot1 a few unfallen stones retain their ,gothic sculpture1 and a few touches of the chisel1 or stains of color1 inform us of the whole mind and perfect skill of the old designer4 ,with this great difference1 nevertheless1 that in the human architecture the builder did not calculate upon ruin1 nor appoint the course of impendent desolation2 but that in the hand of the great ,architect of the mountains1 time and decay are as much the instruments of ,his purpose as the forces by which ,he first led forth the troops of hills in leaping flocks3--the lightning and the torrent1 and the wasting and weariness of innumerable ages1 all bear their part in the working out of one consistent plan2 and the ,builder of the temple for ever stands beside ,his work1 appointing the stone that is to fall1 and the pillar that is to be abased1 and guiding all the seeming wildness of chance and change1 into ordained splendors and foreseen harmonies4 #i4 ,mountain masses1 then1 considered with respect to their first raising and first sculpture1 may be conveniently divided into two great groups2 namely1 those made up of beds or layers1 commonly called stratified2 and those made of more or less united substance1 called unstratified4 ,the former are nearly always composed of coherent rocks1 the latter of crystallines2 and the former almost always occupy the outside1 the latter the centre of mountain chains4 ,it signifies1 therefore1 very little whether we distinguish the groups by calling one stratified and the other unstratified1 or one coherent and the other crystalline1 or one lateral and the other central4 ,but as this last distinction in position seems to have more influence on their forms than either of the others1 it is1 perhaps1 best1 when we are examining them in connection with art1 that this should be thoroughly kept in mind2 and therefore we will consider the first group under the title of lateral ranges1 and the second under that of central peaks4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #h4 #aj4 ,the ,,lateral ,,ranges1 which we are first to examine1 are1 for the most part1 broad tabular masses of sandstone1 limestone1 or whatever their material may be1--tilted slightly up over large spaces 7several or many miles square71 and forming precipices with their exposed edges1 as a book resting obliquely on another book forms miniature precipices with its back and sides4 ,the book is a tolerably accurate representation of the mountain in substance1 as well as in external aspect2 nearly all these tabular masses of rock being composed of a multitude of thinner beds or layers1 as the thickness of the book is made up of its leaves2 while every one of the mountain leaves is usually written over1 though in dim characters1 like those of a faded manuscript1 with history of departed ages4 ,how were these mountain volumes raised1 and how are they supported8 are the natural questions following such a statement4 ,and the only answer is3 ,behold the cloud4 ,no eye has ever seen one of these raised on a large scale2 no investigation has brought completely to light the conditions under which the materials which support them were prepared4 ,this only is the simple fact1 that they are raised into such sloping positions2 generally several resting one upon another1 like a row of books fallen down 7,fig4 #h72 the last book being usually propped by a piece of formless compact crystalline rock1 represented by the piece of crumpled paper at a4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #i4 #aa4 ,it is another simple fact that this arrangement is not effected in an orderly and serene manner2 but that the books1 if they were ever neatly bound1 have been fearfully torn to pieces and dog's-eared in the course of their elevation2 sometimes torn leaf from leaf1 but more commonly rent across1 as if the paper had been wet and soft3 or1 to leave the book similitude1 which is becoming inconvenient1 the beds seem to have been in the consistence of a paste1 more or less dry2 in some places brittle1 and breaking1 like a cake1 fairly across2 in others moist and tough1 and tearing like dough1 or bending like hot iron2 and1 in others1 crushed and shivering into dust1 like unannealed glass4 ,and in these various states they are either bent or broken1 or shivered1 as the case may be1 into fragments of various shapes1 which are usually tossed one on top of another1 as above described2 but1 of course1 under such circumstances1 presenting1 not the uniform edges of the books1 but jagged edges1 as in ,fig4 #i4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #aj4 #ab4 ,do not let it be said that ,i am passing my prescribed limits1 and that ,i have tried to enter the clouds1 and am describing operations which have never been witnessed4 ,i describe facts or semblances1 not operations4 ,i say seem to have been1 not have been4 ,i say are bent2 ,i do not say have been bent4 ,most travellers must remember the entrance to the valley of ,cluse1 from the plain of ,bonneville1 on the road from ,geneva to ,chamouni4 ,they remember that immediately after entering it they find a great precipice on their left1 not less than two thousand feet in perpendicular height4 ,that precipice is formed by beds of limestone bent like a rainbow1 as in ,fig4 #aj4 ,their edges constitute the cliff2 the flat arch which they form with their backs is covered with pine forests and meadows1 extending for three or four leagues in the direction of ,sixt4 ,whether the whole mountain was called out of nothing into the form it possesses1 or created first in the form of a level mass1 and then actually bent and broken by external force1 is quite irrelevant to our present purpose2 but it is impossible to describe its form without appearing to imply the latter alternative2 and all the distinct evidence which can be obtained upon the subject points to such a conclusion1 although there are certain features in such mountains which1 up to the present time1 have rendered all positive conclusion impossible1 not because they contradict the theories in question1 but because they are utterly inexplicable on any theory whatever4 #ac4 ,we return then to our ,fig4 #i1 representing beds which appear to have been broken short off at the edges4 ,if they ever were actually broken1 the reader asks1 what could have become of the bits8 ,sometimes they seem to have been lost1 carried away no one knows where4 ,sometimes they are really found in scattered fragments or dust in the neighborhood4 ,sometimes the mountain is simply broken in two1 and the pieces correspond to each other1 only leaving a valley between2 but more frequently one half slips down1 or the other is pushed up4 ,in such cases1 the coincidence of part with part is sometimes so exact1 that half of a broken pebble has been found on one side1 and the other half five or six hundred feet below1 on the other4 #ad4 ,the beds1 however1 which are to form mountains of any eminence are seldom divided in this gentle way4 ,if brittle1 one would think they had been broken as a captain's biscuit breaks1 leaving sharp and ragged edges2 and if tough1 they appear to have been torn asunder very much like a piece of new cheese4 ,the beds which present the most definite appearances of abrupt fracture1 are those of that grey or black limestone above described 7,chap4 x4 #d71 formed into a number of thin layers or leaves1 commonly separated by filmy spreadings of calcareous sand1 hard when dry1 but easily softened by moisture2 the whole1 considered as a mass1 easily friable1 though particular beds may be very thick and hard4 ,imagine a layer of such substance1 three or four thousand feet thick1 broken with a sharp crash through the middle1 and one piece of it thrown up as in ,fig4 #aa4 ,it is evident that the first result of such a shock would be a complete shattering of the consistence of the broken edges1 and that these would fall1 some on the instant1 and others tottering and crumbling away from time to time1 until the cliff had got in some degree settled into a tenable form4 ,the fallen fragments would lie in a confused heap at the bottom1 hiding perhaps one half of its height1 as in ,fig4 #ab2 the top of it1 wrought into somewhat less ragged shape1 would thenceforth submit itself only to the gradual influences of time and storm4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #aa4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ab4 ,i do not say that this operation has actually taken place4 ,i merely say that such cliffs do in multitudes exist in the form shown at ,fig4 #ab1 or1 more properly speaking1 in that form modified by agencies in visible operation1 whose work can be traced upon them1 touch by touch4 ,but the condition at ,fig4 #ab is the first rough blocking out of their form1 the primal state in which they demonstrably were1 some thousands of years ago1 but beyond which no human reason can trace them without danger of error4 ,the cloud fastens upon them there4 #ae4 ,it is rare1 however1 that such a cliff as that represented in ,fig4 #ab can maintain itself long in such a contour4 ,usually it moulders gradually away into a steep mound or bank2 and the larger number of bold cliffs are composed of far more solid rock1 which in its general make is quite unshattered and flawless2 apparently unaffected1 as far as its coherence is concerned1 by any shock it may have suffered in being raised to its position1 or hewn into its form4 ,beds occur in the ,alps composed of solid coherent limestone 7such as that familiar to the ,english traveller in the cliffs of ,matlock and ,bristol71 #cjjj or #djjj feet thick1 and broken short off throughout a great part of this thickness1 forming nearly#ej sheer precipices not less than #aejj or #bjjj feet in height1 after all deduction has been made for slopes of dbris at the bottom1 and for rounded diminution at the top4 #af4 ,the geologist plunges into vague suppositions and fantastic theories in order to account for these cliffs2 but1 after all that can be dreamed or discovered1 they remain in great part inexplicable4 ,if they were interiorly shattered1 it would be easy to understand that1 in their hardened condition1 they had been broken violently asunder2 but it is not easy to conceive a firm cliff of limestone broken through a thickness of #bjjj feet without showing a crack in any other part of it4 ,if they were divided in a soft state1 like that of paste1 it is still less easy to understand how any such soft material could maintain itself1 till it dried1 in the form of a cliff so enormous and so ponderous3 it must have flowed down from the top1 or squeezed itself out in bulging protuberance at the base4 ,but it has done neither2 and we are left to choose between the suppositions that the mountain was created in a form approximating to that which it now wears1 or that the shock which produced it was so violent and irresistible1 as to do its work neatly in an instant1 and cause no flaws to the rock except in the actual line of fracture4 ,the force must have been analogous either to the light and sharp blow of the hammer with which one breaks a stone into two pieces as it lies in the hand1 or the parting caused by settlement under great weight1 like the cracks through the brickwork of a modern ill-built house4 ,and yet the very beds which seem at the time they were broken to have possessed this firmness of consistency1 are also bent throughout their whole body into waves1 apparently following the action of the force that fractured them1 like waves of sea under the wind4 ,truly the cloud lies darkly upon us here6 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ac4 #ag4 ,and it renders these precipices more remarkable that there is in them no principle of compensation against destructive influences4 ,they are not cloven back continually into new cliffs1 as our chalk shores are by the sea2 otherwise1 one might attribute their first existence to the force of streams4 ,but1 on the contrary1 the action of years upon them is now always one of deterioration4 ,the increasing heap of fallen fragments conceals more and more of their base1 and the wearing of the rain lowers the height and softens the sternness of their brows1 so that a great part of their terror has evidently been subdued by time2 and the farther we endeavor to penetrate their history1 the more mysterious are the forms we are required to explain4 ,the three great representative forms of stratified mountains4 #ah4 ,hitherto1 however1 for the sake of clearness1 we have spoken of hills as if they were composed of a single mass or volume of rock4 ,it is very seldom that they are so4 ,two or three layers are usually raised at once1 with certain general results on mountain form1 which it is next necessary to examine4 #a4 ,wall above slope4 #ast4 ,suppose a series of beds raised in the condition a1 ,fig4 #ac1 the lowest soft1 the uppermost compact2 it is evident that the lower beds would rapidly crumble away1 and the compact mass above break for want of support1 until the rocks beneath had reached a slope at which they could securely sustain themselves1 as well as the weight of wall above1 thus bringing the hill into the outline b4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ad4 #b4 ,slope above wall4 #b;d4 ,if1 on the other hand1 the hill were originally raised as at c1 the softest beds being at the top1 these would crumble into their smooth slope without affecting the outline of the mass below1 and the hill would assume the form d1 large masses of dbris being in either of these two cases accumulated at the foot of the slope1 or of the cliff4 ,these first ruins might1 by subsequent changes1 be variously engulfed1 carried away1 or covered over1 so as to leave nothing visible1 or at least nothing notable1 but the great cliff with its slope above or below it4 ,without insisting on the evidences or probabilities of such construction1 it is sufficient to state that mountains of the two types1 b and d1 are exceedingly common in all parts of the world2 and though of course confused with others1 and themselves always more or less imperfectly developed1 yet they are1 on the whole1 singularly definite as classes of hills1 examples of which can hardly but remain clearly impressed on the mind of every traveller4 ,of the first1 b1 ,salisbury ,crags1 near ,edinburgh1 is a nearly perfect instance1 though on a diminutive scale4 ,the cliffs of ,lauterbrunnen1 in the ,oberland1 are almost without exception formed on the type d4 #c4 ,slope and wall alternately4 #c;d4 ,when the elevated mass1 instead of consisting merely of two great divisions1 includes alternately hard and soft beds1 as at a1 ,fig4 #ad1 the vertical cliffs and inclined banks alternate with each other1 and the mountain rises on a series of steps1 with receding slopes of turf or dbris on the ledge of each1 as at b4 ,at the head of the valley of ,sixt1 in ,savoy1 huge masses of mountain connected with the ,buet are thus constructed3 their slopes are quite smooth1 and composed of good pasture land1 and the cliffs in many places literally vertical4 ,in the summer the peasants make hay on the inclined pastures2 and the hay is carried by merely binding the haycocks tight and rolling them down the slope and over the cliff1 when ,i have heard them fall to the bank below1 a height of from five to eight hundred feet1 with a sound like the distant report of a heavy piece of artillery4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ae4 #ai4 ,the next point of importance in these beds is the curvature1 to which1 as well as to fracture1 they seem to have been subjected4 ,this curvature is not to be confounded with that rippling or undulating character of every portion of the slaty crystalline rocks above described4 ,i am now speaking of all kinds of rocks indifferently2--not of their appearance in small pieces1 but of their great contours in masses1 thousands of feet thick4 ,and it is almost universally true of these masses that they do not merely lie in flat superposition one over another1 as the books in ,fig4 #h2 but they lie in waves1 more or less vast and sweeping according to the scale of the country1 as in ,fig4 #ae1 where the distance from one side of the figure to the other is supposed to be four or five leagues4 #bj4 ,now1 observe1 if the precipices which we have just been describing had been broken when their substance was in a hard state1 there appears no reason why any connexion should be apparent between the energy of undulation and these broken rocks4 ,if the continuous waves were caused by convulsive movements of the earth's surface while its substance was pliable1 and were left in repose for so long a period as to become perfectly hard before they were broken into cliffs1 there seems no reason why the second series of shocks should so closely have confined itself to the locality which had suffered the first1 that the most abrupt precipices should always be associated with the wildest waves4 ,we might have expected that sometimes we should have had noble cliffs raised where the waves had been slight2 and sometimes low and slight fractures where the waves had been violent4 ,but this is not so4 ,the contortions and fractures bear always such relation to each other as appears positively to imply contemporaneous formation4 ,through all the lowland districts of the world the average contour of the waves of rock is somewhat as represented in ,fig4 #af a1 and the little cliffs or hills formed at the edges of the beds 7whether by fracture1 or1 as oftener happens in such countries1 by gradual washing away under the surge of ancient seas7 are no higher1 in proportion to the extent of surface1 than the little steps seen in the centre of the figure4 ,such is the nature1 and such the scale1 of the ranges of hills which form our own downs and wolds1 and the ,french coteaux beside their winding rivers4 ,but as we approach the hill countries1 the undulation becomes more marked1 and the crags more bold2 so that almost any portion of such mountain ranges as the ,jura or the ,vosges will present itself under conditions such as those at b1 the precipices at the edges being bolder in exact proportion to the violence of wave4 ,and1 finally1 in the central and noblest chains the undulation becomes literally contortion2 the beds occur in such positions as those at c1 and the precipices are bold and terrific in exact proportion to this exaggerated and tremendous contortion4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #af4 #ba4 ,these facts appear to be just as contrary to the supposition of the mountains having been formed while the rocks were hard1 as the considerations adduced in #ae are to that of their being formed while they were soft4 ,and ,i believe the more the reader revolves the subject in his thoughts1 and the more opportunities he has of examining the existing facts1 the less explicable those facts will become to him1 and the more reverent will be his acknowledgment of the presence of the cloud4 ,for1 as he examines more clearly the structure of the great mountain ranges1 he will find that though invariably the boldest forms are associated with the most violent contortions1 they sometimes follow the contortions1 and sometimes appear entirely independent of them4 ,for instance1 in crossing the pass of the ,tte ,noire1 if the traveller defers his journey till near the afternoon1 so that from the top of the pass he may see the great limestone mountain in the ,valais1 called the ,dent de ,morcles1 under the full evening light1 he will observe that its peaks are hewn out of a group of contorted beds1 as shown in ,fig4 #d1 ,plate #bi4 ,the wild and irregular zigzag of the beds1 which traverse the face of the cliff with the irregularity of a flash of lightning1 has apparently not the slightest influence on the outline of the peak4 ,it has been carved out of the mass1 with no reference whatever to the interior structure4 ,in like manner1 as we shall see hereafter1 the most wonderful peak in the whole range of the ,alps seems to have been cut out of a series of nearly horizontal beds1 as a square pillar of hay is cut out of a half-consumed haystack4 ,and yet1 on the other hand1 we meet perpetually with instances in which the curves of the beds have in great part directed the shape of the whole mass of mountain4 ,the gorge which leads from the village of ,ardon1 in the ,valais1 up to the root of the ,diablerets1 runs between two ranges of limestone hills1 of which the rude contour is given in ,fig4 #ag1 page #aed4 ,the great slope seen on the left1 rising about seven thousand feet above the ravine1 is nothing but the back of one sheet of limestone1 whose broken edge forms the first cliff at the top1 a height of about six hundred feet1 the second cliff being the edge of another bed emergent beneath it1 and the slope beyond1 the surface of a third4 ,these beds of limestone all descend at a uniform inclination into the gorge1 where they are snapped short off1 the torrent cutting its way along the cleft1 while the beds rise on the other side in a huge contorted wave1 forming the ridge of mountains on the right1--a chain about seven miles in length1 and from five thousand to six thousand feet in height4 ,the actual order of the beds is seen in ,fig4 #ah1 and it is one of the boldest and clearest examples of the form of mountains being correspondent to the curves of beds which ,i have ever seen2 it also exhibits a condition of the summits which is of constant occurrence in stratified hills1 and peculiarly important as giving rise to the serrated structure1 rendered classical by the ,spaniards in their universal term for mountain ridges1 ,sierra1 and obtaining for one of the most important members of the ,comasque chain of ,alps its well known ,italian name--,il ,resegone4 ,such mountains are not merely successions of irregular peaks1 more or less resembling the edge of a much-hacked sword2 they are orderly successions of teeth set in one direction1 closely resembling those of a somewhat overworn saw1 and nearly always produced by successive beds emerging one from beneath the other4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ah4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ag4 #bb4 ,in all such cases there is an infinitely greater difficulty in accounting for the forms than in explaining the fracture of a single bed4 ,how1 and when1 and where1 were the other portions carried away8 ,was each bed once continuous over a much larger space from the point where its edge is now broken off1 or have such beds slipped back into some gulf behind them8 ,it is very easy for geologists to speak generally of elevation and convulsion1 but very difficult to explain what sort of convulsion it could be which passed forward from the edge of one bed to the edge of another1 and broke the required portion off each without disturbing the rest4 ,try the experiment in the simplest way3 put half a dozen of hard captain's biscuits in a sloping position on a table1 and then try1 as they lie1 to break the edge of each1 one by one1 without disturbing the rest4 ,at least1 you will have to raise the edge before you can break it2 to put your hand underneath1 between it and the next biscuit1 before you can get any purchase on it4 ,what force was it that put its fingers between one bed of limestone #fjj feet thick and the next beneath8 ,if you try to break the biscuits by a blow from above1 observe the necessary force of your blow1 and then conceive1 if you can1 the sort of hammer that was required to break the #fjj feet of rock through in the same way4 ,but1 also1 you will1 ten to one1 break two biscuits at the same time4 ,now1 in these serrated formations1 two biscuits are never broken at the same time4 ,there is no appearance of the slightest jar having taken place affecting the bed beneath4 ,if there be1 a huge cliff or gorge is formed at that spot1 not a sierra4 ,thus1 in ,fig4 #ah1 the beds are affected throughout their united body by the shock which formed the ravine at a2 but they are broken1 one by one1 into the cliffs at b and c4 ,sometimes one is tempted to think that they must have been slipped back1 one from off the other2 but there is never any appearance of friction having taken place on their exposed surfaces2 in the plurality of instances their continuance or rise from their roots in waves 7see ,fig4 #af above7 renders the thing utterly impossible2 and in the few instances which have been known of such action actually taking place 7which have always been on a small scale71 the sliding bed has been torn into a thousand fragments almost as soon as it began to move4#ea #bc4 ,and1 finally1 supposing a force found capable of breaking these beds in the manner required1 what force was it that carried the fragments away8 ,how were the gigantic fields of shattered marble conveyed from the ledges which were to remain exposed8 ,no signs of violence are found on these ledges2 what marks there are1 the rain and natural decay have softly traced through a long series of years4 ,those very time-marks may have indeed effaced mere superficial appearances of convulsion2 but could they have effaced all evidence of the action of such floods as would have been necessary to carry bodily away the whole ruin of a block of marble leagues in length and breadth1 and a quarter of a mile thick8 ,ponder over the intense marvellousness of this4 ,the bed at c 7,fig4 #ah7 must first be broken through the midst of it into a sharp precipice1 without at all disturbing it elsewhere2 and then all of it beyond c is to be broken up1 and carried perfectly away1 without disturbing or wearing down the face of the cliff at c4 ,and yet no trace of the means by which all this was effected is left4 ,the rock stands forth in its white and rugged mystery1 as if its peak had been born out of the blue sky4 ,the strength that raised it1 and the sea that wrought upon it1 have passed away1 and left no sign2 and we have no words wherein to describe their departure1 no thoughts to form about their action1 than those of the perpetual and unsatisfied interrogation1-- ,what ailed thee1 ,o thou sea1 that thou fleddest8 ,and ye mountains1 that ye skipped like lambs8 ,,footnotes #di ,how far1 is another question4 ,the sand which the stream brings from the bottom of one eddy in its course1 it throws down in the next2 all that is proved by the above trial is1 that so many tons of material are annually carried down by it a certain number of feet4 #ej ,nearly2 that is to say1 not quite vertical4 ,of the degree of steepness1 we shall have more to say hereafter4 #ea ,the ,rossberg fall1 compared to the convulsions which seem to have taken place in the higher ,alps1 is like the slip of a paving stone compared to the fall of a tower4 ,,chapter ,,xiii4 ,,of ,,the ,,sculpture ,,of ,,mountains3--,,secondly1 ,,the ,,central ,,peaks4 #a4 ,in the #bjth paragraph of the last chapter1 it was noticed that ordinarily the most irregular contortions or fractures of beds of rock were found in the districts of most elevated hills1 the contortion or fracture thus appearing to be produced at the moment of elevation4 ,it has also previously been stated that the hardness and crystalline structure of the material increased with the mountainous character of the ground2 so that we find as almost invariably correlative1 the hardness of the rock1 its distortion1 and its height2 and1 in like manner its softness1 regularity of position1 and lowness4 ,thus1 the line of beds in an ,english range of down1 composed of soft chalk which crumbles beneath the fingers1 will be as low and continuous as in a of ,fig4 #af 7p4 #aea72 the beds in the ,jura mountains1 composed of firm limestone1 which needs a heavy hammer stroke to break it1 will be as high and wavy as at b2 and the ranges of ,alps1 composed of slaty crystallines1 yielding only to steel wedges or to gunpowder1 will be as lofty and as wild in structure as at c4 ,without this beneficent connection of hardness of material with height1 mountain ranges either could not have existed1 or would not have been habitable4 ,in their present magnificent form1 they could not have existed2 and whatever their forms1 the frequent falls and crumblings away1 which are of little consequence in the low crags of ,hastings1 ,dover1 or ,lyme1 would have been fatal to the population of the valleys beneath1 when they took place from heights of eight or ten thousand feet4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ai4 #b4 ,but this hardening of the material would not have been sufficient1 by itself1 to secure the safety of the inhabitants4 ,unless the reader has been already familiarized with geological facts1 he must surely have been struck by the prominence of the bedded structure in all the instances of mountain form given in the preceding chapter2 and must have asked himself1 ,why are mountains always built in this masonry-like way1 rather than in compact masses8 ,now1 it is true that according to present geological theories1 the bedded structure was a necessary consequence of the mode in which the materials were accumulated2 but it is not less true that this bedded structure is now the principal means of securing the stability of the mass1 and is to be regarded as a beneficent appointment1 with such special view4 ,that structure compels each mountain to assume the safest contour of which under the given circumstances of upheaval it is capable4 ,if it were all composed of an amorphous mass of stone as at ,a1 ,fig4 #ai1 a crack beginning from the top1 as at x in ,a1 might gradually extend downwards in the direction x y in ,b1 until the whole mass1 indicated by the shade1 separated itself and fell4 ,but when the whole mountain is arranged in beds1 as at ,c1 the crack beginning at the top stops in the uppermost bed1 or1 if it extends to the next1 it will be in a different place1 and the detached blocks1 marked by the shaded portions1 are of course still as secure in their positions as before the crack took place4 ,if1 indeed1 the beds sloped towards the precipice1 as at ,d1 the danger would be greater2 but if the reader looks to any of the examples of mountain form hitherto given1 he will find that the universal tendency of the modes of elevation is to cause the beds to slope away from the precipice1 and to build the whole mountain in the form ,c1 which affords the utmost possible degree of security4 ,nearly all the mountains which rise immediately above thickly peopled districts1 though they may appear to be thrown into isolated peaks1 are in reality nothing more than flattish ranks of rock1 terminated by walls of cliff1 of this perfectly safe kind2 and it will be part of our task in the succeeding chapter to examine at some length the modes in which sublime and threatening forms are almost deceptively assumed by arrangements of mountain which are in themselves thus simple and secure4 #c4 ,it1 however1 fell within the purpose of the ,great ,builder to give1 in the highest peaks of mountains1 examples of form more strange and majestic than any which could be attained by structures so beneficently adapted to the welfare of the human race4 ,and the admission of other modes of elevation1 more terrific and less secure1 takes place exactly in proportion to the increasing presence of such conditions in the locality as shall render it on other grounds unlikely to be inhabited1 or incapable of being so4 ,where the soil is rich and the climate soft1 the hills are low and safe2#eb as the ground becomes poorer and the air keener1 they rise into forms of more peril and pride2 and their utmost terror is shown only where their fragments fall on trackless ice1 and the thunder of their ruin can be heard but by the ibex and the eagle4 #d4 ,the safety of the lower mountains depends1 as has just been observed1 on their tendency to divide themselves into beds4 ,but it will easily be understood that1 together with security1 such a structure involves some monotony of aspect2 and that the possibility of a rent like that indicated in the last figure1 extending itself without a check1 so as to detach some vast portion of the mountain at once1 would be a means of obtaining accidental forms of far greater awfulness4 ,we find1 accordingly1 that the bedded structure is departed from in the central peaks2 that they are in reality gifted with this power1 or1 if we choose so to regard it1 affected with this weakness1 of rending downwards throughout into vertical sheets2 and that to this end they are usually composed of that structureless and massive rock which we have characterized by the term compact crystalline4 #e4 ,this1 indeed1 is not universal4 ,it happens sometimes that toward the centre of great hill ranges ordinary stratified rocks of the coherent groups are hardened into more compact strength than is usual with them2 and out of the hardened mass a peak1 or range of peaks1 is cut as if out of a single block4 ,thus the well known ,dent du ,midi of ,bex1 a mountain of peculiar interest to the ,english travellers who crowd the various inns and pensions which now glitter along the shores of the ,lake of ,geneva at ,vevay1 ,clarens1 and ,montreux1 is cut out of horizontal beds of rock which are traceable in the evening light by their dark and light lines along its sides1 like courses of masonry2 the real form of the mountain being that of the ridge of a steep house-roof1 jagged and broken at the top1 so that1 seen from near ,st4 ,maurice1 the extremity of the ridge appears a sharp pyramid4 ,the ,dent de ,morcles1 opposite the ,dent du ,midi1 has been already noticed1 and is figured in ,plate #bi1 ,fig4 #d4 ,in like manner1 the ,matterhorn is cut out of a block of nearly horizontal beds of gneiss4 ,but in all these cases the materials are so hardened and knit together that to all intents and purposes they form one solid mass1 and when the forms are to be of the boldest character possible1 this solid mass is unstratified1 and of compact crystalline rock4 #f4 ,in looking from ,geneva in the morning light1 when ,mont ,blanc and its companion hills are seen dark against the dawn1 almost every traveller must have been struck by the notable range of jagged peaks which bound the horizon immediately to the north-east of ,mont ,blanc4 ,in ordinary weather they appear a single chain1 but if any clouds or mists happen to float into the heart of the group1 it divides itself into two ranges1 lower and higher1 as in ,fig4 #a1 ,plate #bi1 of which the uppermost and more distant chain is the real crest of the ,alps1 and the lower and darker line is composed of subordinate peaks which form the south side of the valley of ,chamouni1 and are therefore ordinarily known as the ,aiguilles of ,chamouni4 ,illustration3 ,j4 ,ruskin4 ,j4,c4 ,armytage #bi4 ,aiguille ,structure4 ,though separated by some eight or nine miles of actual distance1 the two ranges are part of one and the same system of rock4 ,they are both of them most notable examples of the structure of the compact crystalline peaks1 and their jagged and spiry outlines are rendered still more remarkable in any view obtained of them in the immediate neighborhood of ,geneva1 by their rising1 as in the figure1 over two long slopes of comparatively flattish mountain4 ,the highest of these is the back of a stratified limestone range1 distant about twenty-five miles1 whose precipitous extremity1 nodding over the little village of ,st4 ,martin's1 is well known under the name of the ,aiguille de ,varens4 ,the nearer line is the edge of another limestone mountain1 called the ,petit ,salve1 within five miles of ,geneva4 ,and thus we have two ranges of the crystalline rocks opposed to two ranges of the coherents1 both having their distinctive characters1 the one of vertical fracture1 the other of level continuousness1 developed on an enormous scale4 ,i am aware of no other view in ,europe where the essential characteristics of the two formations are so closely and graphically displayed4 #g4 ,nor can ,i imagine any person thoughtfully regarding the more distant range1 without feeling his curiosity strongly excited as to the method of its first sculpture4 ,that long banks and fields of rock should be raised aslope1 and break at their edges into cliffs1 however mysterious the details of the operation may be1 is yet conceivable in the main circumstances without any great effort of imagination4 ,but the carving of those great obelisks and spires out of an infinitely harder rock2 the sculpture of all the fretted pinnacles on the inaccessible and calm elevation of that great cathedral1--how and when was this wrought8 ,it is necessary1 before the extent and difficulty of such a question can be felt1 to explain more fully the scale and character of the peaks under consideration4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #bj4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ba4 #h4 ,the valley of ,chamouni1 largely viewed1 and irrespectively of minor ravines and irregularities1 is nothing more than a deep trench1 dug between two ranges of nearly continuous mountains1--dug with a straightness and evenness which render its scenery1 in some respects1 more monotonous than that of any other ,alpine valley4 ,on each side it is bordered by banks of turf1 darkened with pine forest1 rising at an even slope to a height of about #cjjj feet1 so that it may best be imagined as a kind of dry moat1 which1 if cut across1 would be of the form typically shown in ,fig4 #bj2 the sloping bank on each side being about #cjjj feet high1 or the moat about three fifths of a mile in vertical depth4 ,then1 on the top of the bank1 on each side1 and a little way back from the edge of the moat1 rise the ranges of the great mountains1 in the form of shattered crests and pyramids of barren rock sprinkled with snow4 ,those on the south side of the valley rise another #cjjj feet above the bank on which they stand1 so that each of the masses superadded in ,fig4 #ba may best be described as a sort of ,egyptian pyramid1#ec of the height of ,snowden or ,ben ,lomond1 hewn out of solid rock1 and set on the shoulder of the great bank which borders the valley4 ,then the ,mont ,blanc1 a higher and heavier cluster of such summits1 loaded with deep snow1 terminates the range4 ,glaciers of greater or less extent descend between the pyramids of rock2 and one1 supplied from their largest recesses1 even runs down the bank into the valley4 ,fig4 #bbed rudely represents the real contours of the mountains1 including ,mont ,blanc itself1 on its south side4 ,the range of peaks1 b1 p1 m1 is that already spoken of1 known as the ,aiguilles of ,chamouni4 ,they form but a very small portion of a great crowd of similar1 and1 for the most part1 larger peaks which constitute the chain of ,mont ,blanc1 and which receive from the ,savoyards the name of ,aiguilles1 or needles1 in consequence of their peculiarly sharp summits4 ,the forms of these ,aiguilles1 wonderful enough in themselves1 are1 nevertheless1 perpetually exaggerated both by the imagination of the traveller1 and by the artists whose delineations of them find most frank acceptance4 ,fig4 #a in ,plate #cj is faithfully copied from the representation given of one of these mountains in a plate lately published at ,geneva4 ,fig4 #b in the same plate is a true outline of the mountain itself4 ,of the exaggerations in the other ,i shall have more to say presently2 meantime1 ,i refer to it merely as a proof that ,i am not myself exaggerating1 in giving ,fig4 #bb as showing the general characters of these peaks4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #bb4 #i4 ,this1 then1 is the problem to be considered1--,how mountains of such rugged and precipitous outline1 and at the least #cjjj feet in height1 were originally carved out of the hardest rocks1 and set in their present position on the top of the green and sloping bank which sustains them4 ,by mere accident1 the reader replies4 ,the uniform bank might as easily have been the highest1 and the broken granite peaks have risen from its sides1 or at the bottom of it4 ,it is merely the chance formation of the valley of ,chamouni4 ,nay2 not so4 ,although1 as if to bring the problem more clearly before the thoughts of men1 by marking the structure most where the scenery is most attractive1 the formation is more distinct at ,chamouni than anywhere else in the ,alpine chain2 yet the general condition of a rounded bank sustaining jagged or pyramidal peaks is more or less traceable throughout the whole district of the great mountains4 ,the most celebrated spot1 next to the valley of ,chamouni1 is the centre of the ,bernese ,oberland2 and it will be remembered by all travellers that in its principal valley1 that of ,grindelwald1 not only does the summit of the ,wetterhorn consist of a sharp pyramid raised on the advanced shoulder of a great promontory1 but the two most notable summits of the ,bernese ,alps1 the ,schreckhorn and ,finsteraarhorn1 cannot be seen from the valley at all1 being thrown far back upon an elevated plateau1 of which only the advanced head or shoulder1 under the name of the ,mettenberg1 can be seen from the village4 ,the real summits1 consisting in each case of a ridge starting steeply from this elevated plateau1 as if by a new impulse of angry or ambitious mountain temper1 can only be seen by ascending a considerable height upon the flank of the opposite mass of the ,faulhorn4 #aj4 ,and this is1 if possible1 still more notably and provokingly the case with the great peaks of the chain of ,alps between ,monte ,rosa and ,mont ,blanc4 ,it will be seen1 by a glance at any map of ,switzerland1 that the district which forms the canton ,valais is1 in reality1 nothing but a ravine sixty miles long1 between that central chain and the ,alps of the cantons ,fribourg and ,berne4 ,this ravine is also1 in its general structure1 merely a deeper and wider moat than that already described as forming the valley of ,chamouni4 ,it lies1 in the same manner1 between two banks of mountain2 and the principal peaks are precisely in the same manner set back upon the tops of these banks2 and so provokingly far back1 that throughout the whole length of the valley not one of the summits of the chief chain can be seen from it4 ,that usually pointed out to travellers as ,monte ,rosa is a subordinate1 though still very colossal mass1 called the ,montagne de ,saas2 and this is the only peak of great size discoverable from the valley throughout its extent2 one or two glimpses of the snows1 not at any eminent point1 being caught through the entrances of the lateral valleys of ,evolena1 c4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #bc4 #aa4 ,nor is this merely the consequence of the great distance of the central ridge4 ,it would be intelligible enough that the mountains should rise gradually higher and higher towards the middle of the chain1 so that the summit at a in the upper diagram of ,fig4 #bc should be concealed by the intermediate eminences b1 c1 from the valley at d4 ,but this is not1 by any means1 the manner in which the concealment is effected4 ,the great peaks stand1 as at a in the lower diagram1 jagged1 sharp1 and suddenly starting out of a comparatively tame mass of elevated land1 through which the trench of the valley of the ,rhone is cut1 as at c4 ,the subdivision of the bank at b by thousands of ravines1 and its rise1 here and there1 into more or less notable summits1 conceal the real fact of the structure from a casual observer4 ,but the longer ,i stayed among the ,alps1 and the more closely ,i examined them1 the more ,i was struck by the one broad fact of their being a vast ,alpine plateau1 or mass of elevated land1 upon which nearly all the highest peaks stood like children set upon a table1 removed1 in most cases1 far back from the edge of the plateau1 as if for fear of their falling4 ,and the most majestic scenes in the ,alps are produced1 not so much by any violation of this law1 as by one of the great peaks having apparently walked to the edge of the table to look over1 and thus showing itself suddenly above the valley in its full height4 ,this is the case with the ,wetterhorn and ,eiger at ,grindelwald1 and with the ,grande ,jorasse1 above the ,col de ,ferret4 ,but the raised bank or table is always intelligibly in existence1 even in these apparently exceptional cases2 and1 for the most part1 the great peaks are not allowed to come to the edge of it1 but remain like the keeps of castles far withdrawn1 surrounded1 league beyond league1 by comparatively level fields of mountain1 over which the lapping sheets of glacier writhe and flow1 foaming about the feet of the dark central crests like the surf of an enormous sea-breaker hurled over a rounded rock1 and islanding some fragment of it in the midst4 ,and the result of this arrangement is a kind of division of the whole of ,switzerland into an upper and lower mountain-world2 the lower world consisting of rich valleys bordered by steep1 but easily accessible1 wooded banks of mountain1 more or less divided by ravines1 through which glimpses are caught of the higher ,alps2 the upper world1 reached after the first steep banks1 of #cjjj or #djjj feet in height1 have been surmounted1 consisting of comparatively level but most desolate tracts of moor and rock1 half covered by glacier1 and stretching to the feet of the true pinnacles of the chain4 #ab4 ,it can hardly be necessary to point out the perfect wisdom and kindness of this arrangement1 as a provision for the safety of the inhabitants of the high mountain regions4 ,if the great peaks rose at once from the deepest valleys1 every stone which was struck from their pinnacles1 and every snow-wreath which slipped from their ledges1 would descend at once upon the inhabitable ground1 over which no year could pass without recording some calamity of earth-slip or avalanche2 while1 in the course of their fall1 both the stones and the snow would strip the woods from the hill sides1 leaving only naked channels of destruction where there are now the sloping meadow and the chestnut glade4 ,besides this1 the masses of snow1 cast down at once into the warmer air1 would all melt rapidly in the spring1 causing furious inundation of every great river for a month or six weeks4 ,the snow being then all thawed1 except what lay upon the highest peaks in regions of nearly perpetual frost1 the rivers would be supplied1 during the summer1 only by fountains1 and the feeble tricklings on sunny days from the high snows4 ,the ,rhone under such circumstances would hardly be larger at ,lyons than the ,severn at ,shrewsbury1 and many ,swiss valleys would be left almost without moisture4 ,all these calamities are prevented by the peculiar ,alpine structure which has been described4 ,the broken rocks and the sliding snow of the high peaks1 instead of being dashed at once to the vales1 are caught upon the desolate shelves or shoulders which everywhere surround the central crests4 ,the soft banks which terminate these shelves1 traversed by no falling fragments1 clothe themselves with richest wood2 while the masses of snow heaped upon the ledge above them1 in a climate neither so warm as to thaw them quickly in the spring1 nor so cold as to protect them from all the power of the summer sun1 either form themselves into glaciers1 or remain in slowly wasting fields even to the close of the year1--in either case supplying constant1 abundant1 and regular streams to the villages and pastures beneath1 and1 to the rest of ,europe1 noble and navigable rivers4 #ac4 ,now1 that such a structure is the best and wisest possible1 is1 indeed1 sufficient reason for its existence2 and to many people it may seem useless to question farther respecting its origin4 ,but ,i can hardly conceive any one standing face to face with one of these towers of central rock1 and yet not also asking himself1 ,is this indeed the actual first work of the ,divine ,master on which ,i gaze8 ,was the great precipice shaped by ,his finger1 as ,adam was shaped out of the dust8 ,were its clefts and ledges carved upon it by its ,creator1 as the letters were on the ,tables of the ,law1 and was it thus left to bear its eternal testimony to ,his beneficence among these clouds of heaven8 ,or is it the descendant of a long race of mountains1 existing under appointed laws of birth and endurance1 death and decrepitude8 #ad4 ,there can be no doubt as to the answer4 ,the rock itself answers audibly by the murmur of some falling stone or rending pinnacle4 ,it is not as it was once4 ,those waste leagues around its feet are loaded with the wrecks of what it was4 ,on these1 perhaps1 of all mountains1 the characters of decay are written most clearly2 around these are spread most gloomily the memorials of their pride1 and the signs of their humiliation4 ,what then were they once8 ,the only answer is yet again1--,behold the cloud4 ,their form1 as far as human vision can trace it1 is one of eternal decay4 ,no retrospection can raise them out of their ruins1 or withdraw them beyond the law of their perpetual fate4 ,existing science may be challenged to form1 with the faintest color of probability1 any conception of the original aspect of a crystalline mountain2 it cannot be followed in its elevation1 nor traced in its connection with its fellows4 ,no eyes ever saw its substance1 yet being imperfect2 its history is a monotone of endurance and destruction3 all that we can certainly know of it1 is that it was once greater than it is now1 and it only gathers vastness1 and still gathers1 as it fades into the abyss of the unknown4 #ae4 ,yet this one piece of certain evidence ought not to be altogether unpursued2 and while1 with all humility1 we shrink from endeavoring to theorize respecting processes which are concealed1 we ought not to refuse to follow1 as far as it will lead us1 the course of thought which seems marked out by conspicuous and consistent phenomena4 ,exactly as the form of the lower mountains seems to have been produced by certain raisings and bendings of their formerly level beds1 so the form of these higher mountains seems to have been produced by certain breakings away from their former elevated mass4 ,if the process appears in either case doubtful1 it is less so with respect to the higher hills4 ,we may not easily believe that the steep limestone cliffs on one side of a valley1 now apparently secure and steadfast1 ever were united with the cliffs on the other side2 but we cannot hesitate to admit that the peak which we see shedding its flakes of granite1 on all sides of it1 as a fading rose lets fall its leaves1 was once larger than it is1 and owes the present characters of its forms chiefly to the modes of its diminution4 #af4 ,holding fast this clue1 we have next to take into consideration another fact of not less importance1--that over the whole of the rounded banks of lower mountain1 wherever they have been in anywise protected from the injuries of time1 there are yet visible the tracks of ancient glaciers4 ,i will not here enter into detail respecting the mode in which traces of glaciers are distinguishable4 ,it is enough to state that the footmark1 so to speak1 of a glacier is just as easily recognizable as the trail of any well-known animal2 and that with as much confidence as we should feel in asserting that a horse had passed along a soft road which yet retained the prints of its shoes1 it may be concluded that the glaciers of the ,alps had once triple or quadruple the extent that they have now2 so that not only the banks of inferior mountains were once covered with sheets of ice1 but even the great valley of the ,rhone itself was the bed of an enormous ,mer de ,glace1 which extended beyond the ,lake of ,geneva to the slopes of ,jura4#ee #ag4 ,from what has already been noted of glacier action1 the reader cannot but be aware that its universal effect is to round and soften the contours of the mountains subjected to it2 so that a glacier may be considered as a vast instrument of friction1 a white sand-paper1 applied slowly but irresistibly to all the roughnesses of the hill which it covers4 ,and this effect is of course greatest when the ice flows fastest1 and contains more embedded stones2 that is to say1 greater towards the lower part of a mountain than near its summit4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #bd4 ,suppose now a chain of mountains raised in any accidental form1 only of course highest where the force was greatest1--that is to say1 at the centre of the chain1--and presenting any profile such as a1 ,fig4 #bd2 terminated1 perhaps1 by a broken secondary cliff1 and the whole covered with a thick bed of glacier1 indicated by the spotted space1 and moving in the direction of the arrows4 ,as it wears away the mountain1 not at all at the top1 but always more and more as it descends1 it would in process of time reduce the contour of the flank of the hill to the form at b4 ,but at this point the snow would begin to slide from the central peak1 and to leave its rocks exposed to the action of the atmosphere4 ,supposing those rocks disposed to break into vertical sheets1 the summit would soon cleave itself into such a form as that at x2 and the flakes again subdividing and falling1 we should have conditions such as at y4 ,meanwhile the glacier is still doing its work uninterruptedly on the lower bank1 bringing the mountain successively into the outlines c and d1 in which the forms x and y are substituted consecutively for the original summit4 ,but the level of the whole flank of the mountain being now so much reduced1 the glacier has brought itself by its own work into warmer climate1 and has wrought out its own destruction4 ,it would gradually be thinned away1 and in many places at last vanish1 leaving only the barren rounded mountains1 and the tongues of ice still supplied from the peaks above4 #ah4 ,such is the actual condition of the ,alps at this moment4 ,i do not say that they have in reality undergone any such process4 ,but ,i think it right to put the supposition before the reader1 more with a view of explaining what the appearance of things actually is1 than with any wish that he should adopt either this or any other theory on the subject4 ,it facilitates a description of the ,brche de ,roland to say1 that it looks as if the peer had indeed cut it open with a swordstroke2 but it would be unfair to conclude that the describer gravely wished the supposition to be adopted as explanatory of the origin of the ravine4 ,in like manner1 the reader who has followed the steps of the theory ,i have just offered1 will have a clearer conception of the real look and anatomy of the ,alps than ,i could give him by any other means4 ,but he is welcome to accept in seriousness just as much or as little of the theory as he likes4#ef ,only ,i am well persuaded that the more familiar any one becomes with the chain of the ,alps1 the more1 whether voluntarily or not1 the idea will force itself upon him of their being mere remnants of large masses1--splinters and fragments1 as of a stranded wreck1 the greater part of which has been removed by the waves2 and the more he will be convinced of the existence of two distinct regions1 one1 as it were1 below the ice1 another above it1--one of subjected1 the other of emergent rock2 the lower worn away by the action of the glaciers and rains1 the higher splintering and falling to pieces by natural disintegration4 #ai4 ,i press1 however1 neither conjecture nor inquiry farther2 having already stated all that is necessary to give the reader a complete idea of the different divisions of mountain form4 ,i proceed now to examine the points of pictorial interest in greater detail2 and in order to do so more conveniently1 ,i shall adopt the order1 in description1 which ,nature seems to have adopted in formation2 beginning with the mysterious hardness of the central crystallines1 and descending to the softer and lower rocks which we see in some degree modified by the slight forces still in operation4 ,we will therefore examine3 #a4 the pictorial phenomena of the central peaks2 #b4 those of the summits of the lower mountains round them1 to which we shall find it convenient to give the distinguishing name of crests2 #c4 the formation of ,precipices1 properly so called2 then1 the general aspect of the ,banks and ,slopes1 produced by the action of water or of falling dbris1 on the sides or at the bases of mountains2 and finally1 remove1 if it may be1 a few of the undeserved scorns thrown upon our most familiar servants1 ,stones4 ,to each of these subjects we shall find it necessary to devote a distinct chapter4 ,,footnotes #eb ,it may be thought ,i should have reversed these sentences1 and written where the hills are low and safe1 the climate is soft1 c4 ,but it is not so4 ,no antecedent reason can be shown why the ,mont ,cervin or ,finsteraarhorn should not have risen sharp out of the plains of ,lombardy1 instead of out of glaciers4 #ec ,i use the terms pyramid and peak at present1 in order to give a rough general idea of the aspect of these hills4 ,both terms1 as we shall see in the next chapter1 are to be accepted under limitation4 #ed ,this coarse sketch is merely given for reference1 as ,i shall often have to speak of the particular masses of mountain1 indicated by the letters in the outline below it2 namely-- b4 ,aiguille ,blaitire4 p4 ,aiguille du ,plan4 m4 ,aiguille du ,midi4 ,m4 ,mont ,blanc 7summit74 d4 ,dme du ,gout4 g4 ,aiguille du ,gout4 q and r indicate stations only4 ,t4 ,tapia4 ,c4 ,montagne de la ,cte4 t4 ,montagne de ,taconay4 #ee ,the glacier tracks on the gneiss of the great angle opposite ,martigny are the most magnificent ,i ever saw in the ,alps2 those above the channel of the ,trient1 between ,valorsine and the valley of the ,rhone1 the most interesting4 #ef ,for farther information respecting the glaciers and their probable action1 the reader should consult the works of ,professor ,forbes4 ,i believe this theory of the formation of the upper peaks has been proposed by him1 and recently opposed by ,mr4 ,sharpe1 who believes that the great bank spoken of in the text was originally a sea-bottom4 ,but ,i have simply stated in this chapter the results of my own watchings of the ,alps2 for being without hope of getting time for available examination of the voluminous works on these subjects1 ,i thought it best to read nothing 7except ,forbes's most important essay on the glaciers1 several times quoted in the text71 and therefore to give1 at all events1 the force of independent witness to such impressions as ,i received from the actual facts2 ,de ,saussure1 always a faithful recorder of those facts1 and my first master in geology1 being referred to1 occasionally1 for information respecting localities ,i had not been able to examine4 ,,chapter ,,xiv4 ,,resulting ,,forms3--,,first1 ,,aiguilles4 #a4 ,i have endeavored in the preceding chapters always to keep the glance of the reader on the broad aspect of things1 and to separate for him the mountain masses into the most distinctly comprehensible forms4 ,we must now consent to take more pains1 and observe more closely4 #b4 ,i begin with the ,aiguilles4 ,in ,fig4 #bd1 p4 #agj1 at a1 it was assumed that the mass was raised highest merely where the elevating force was greatest1 being of one substance with the bank or cliff below4 ,but it hardly ever is of the same substance4 ,almost always it is of compact crystallines1 and the bank of slaty crystallines2 or if it be of slaty crystallines the bank is of slaty coherents4 ,the bank is almost always the softer of the two4#eg ,is not this very marvellous8 ,is it not exactly as if the substance had been prepared soft or hard with a sculpturesque view to what had to be done with it2 soft1 for the glacier to mould1 and the torrent to divide2 hard1 to stand for ever1 central in mountain majesty4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #be4 #c4 ,next1 then1 comes the question1 ,how do these compact crystallines and slaty crystallines join each other8 ,it has long been a well recognized fact in the science of geology1 that the most important mountain ranges lift up and sustain upon their sides the beds of rock which form the inferior groups of hills around them in the manner roughly shown in the section ,fig4 #be1 where the dark mass stands for the hard rock of the great mountains 7crystallines71 and the lighter lines at the side of it indicate the prevalent direction of the beds in the neighboring hills 7coherents71 while the spotted portions represent the gravel and sand of which the great plains are usually composed4 ,but it has not been so universally recognized1 though long ago pointed out by ,de ,saussure1 that the great central groups are often themselves composed of beds lying in a precisely opposite direction2 so that if we analyze carefully the structure of the dark mass in the centre of ,fig4 #be1 we shall find it arranged in lines which slope downwards to the centre2 the flanks of it being of slaty crystalline rock1 and the summit of compact crystallines1 as at a1 ,fig4 #bf4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #bf4 ,in speaking of the sculpture of the central peaks in the last chapter1 ,i made no reference to the nature of the rocks in the banks on which they stood4 ,the diagram at a1 ,fig4 #bg1 as representative of the original condition1 and b1 of the resultant condition will1 compared with ,fig4 #bd1 p4 #agj1 more completely illustrate the change4#eh ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #bg4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #bh4 #d4 ,by what secondary laws this structure may ultimately be discovered to have been produced is of no consequence to us at present2 all that it is needful for us to note is the beneficence which appointed it for the mountains destined to assume the boldest forms4 ,for into whatever outline they may be sculptured by violence or time1 it is evident at a glance that their stability and security must always be the greatest possible under the given circumstances4 ,suppose1 for instance1 that the peak is in such a form as a in ,fig4 #bf1 then1 however steep the slope may be on either side1 there is still no chance of one piece of rock sliding off another2 but if the same outline were given to beds disposed as at b1 the unsupported masses might slide off those beneath them at any moment1 unless prevented by the inequalities of the surfaces4 ,farther1 in the minor divisions of the outline1 the tendency of the peak at a will be always to assume contours like those at a in ,fig4 #bh1 which are1 of course1 perfectly safe2 but the tendency of the beds at b in ,fig4 #bg will be to break into contours such as at b here1 which are all perilous1 not only in the chance of each several portion giving way1 but in the manner in which they would deliver1 from one to the other1 the fragments which fell4 ,a stone detached from any portion of the peak at a would be caught and stopped on the ledge beneath it2 but a fragment loosened from b would not stay till it reached the valley by a series of accelerating bounds4 #e4 ,while1 however1 the secure and noble form represented at a in ,figs4 #bf and #bh is for the most part ordained to be that of the highest mountains1 the contours at b1 in each figure1 are of perpetual occurrence among the secondary ranges1 in which1 on a smaller scale1 they produce some of the most terrific and fantastic forms of precipice2 not altogether without danger1 as has been fearfully demonstrated by many a bergfall among the limestone groups of the ,alps2 but with far less danger than would have resulted from the permission of such forms among the higher hills2 and with collateral advantages which we shall have presently to consider4 ,in the meantime1 we return to the examination of the superior groups4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #bi4 #f4 ,the reader is1 no doubt1 already aware that the chain of the ,mont ,blanc is bordered by two great valleys1 running parallel to each other1 and seemingly excavated on purpose that travellers might be able to pass1 foot by foot1 along each side of the ,mont ,blanc and its aiguilles1 and thus examine every peak in succession4 ,one of these valleys is that of ,chamouni1 the other that of which one half is called the ,alle ,blanche1 and the other the ,val ,ferret1 the town of ,cormayeur being near its centre1 where it opens to the ,val d',aosta4 ,now1 cutting the chain of ,mont ,blanc right across1 from valley to valley1 through the double range of aiguilles1 the section would be#ei as ,fig4 #bi here1 in which a is the valley of ,chamouni1 b the range of aiguilles of ,chamouni1 c the range of the ,gant1 d the valley of ,cormayeur4 ,illustration3 #cj4 ,the ,aiguille ,charmoz4 ,ideal4 ,actual4 ,the little projection under ,m is intended to mark approximately the position of the so well-known ,montanvert4 ,it is a great weakness1 not to say worse than weakness1 on the part of travellers1 to extol always chiefly what they think fewest people have seen or can see4 ,i have climbed much1 and wandered much1 in the heart of the high ,alps1 but ,i have never yet seen anything which equalled the view from the cabin of the ,montanvert2 and as the spot is visited every year by increasing numbers of tourists1 ,i have thought it best to take the mountains which surround it for the principal subjects of our inquiry4 #g4 ,the little eminence left under ,m truly marks the height of the ,montanvert on the flanks of the ,aiguilles1 but not accurately its position1 which is somewhat behind the mass of mountain supposed to be cut through by the section4 ,but the top of the ,montanvert is actually formed1 as shown at ,m1 by the crests of the oblique beds of slaty crystallines4 ,every traveller must remember the steep and smooth beds of rock like sloping walls1 down which1 and over the ledges of which1 the path descends from the cabin to the edge of the glacier4 ,these sloping walls are formed by the inner sides of the crystalline beds1#fj as exposed in the notch behind the letter ,m4 #h4 ,to these beds we shall return presently1 our object just now being to examine the aiguille1 which1 on the ,montanvert1 forms the most conspicuous mass of mountain on the right of the spectator4 ,it is known in ,chamouni as the ,aiguille des ,charmoz1 and is distinguished by a very sharp horn or projection on its side1 which usually attracts the traveller's attention as one of the most singular minor features in the view from the ,montanvert4 ,the larger masses of the whole aiguille1 and true contour of this horn1 are carefully given in plate #cj1 ,fig4 #b1 as they are seen in morning sunshine4 ,the impression which travellers usually carry away with them is1 ,i presume1 to be gathered from ,fig4 #a1 a fac simile of one of the lithographs purchased with avidity by ,english travellers1 in the shops of ,chamouni and ,geneva1 as giving a faithful representation of this aiguille seen from the ,montanvert4 ,it is worth while to perpetuate this example of the ideal landscape of the nineteenth century1 popular at the time when the works of ,turner were declared by the public to be extravagant and unnatural4 #i4 ,this example of the common ideal of aiguilles is1 however1 useful in another respect4 ,it shows the strong impression which these ,chamouni mountains leave1 of their being above all others sharp-peaked and splintery1 dividing more or less into arrowy spires2 and it marks the sense of another and very curious character in them1 that these spires are apt to be somewhat bent or curved4 ,both these impressions are partially true1 and need to be insisted upon1 and cleared of their indistinctness1 or exaggeration4 ,first1 then1 this strong impression of their peakedness and spiry separateness is always produced with the least possible danger to the travelling and admiring public2 for if in reality these granite mountains were ever separated into true spires or points1 in the least resembling this popular ideal in ,plate #cj1 the ,montanvert and ,mer de ,glace would be as inaccessible1 except at the risk of life1 as the trenches of a besieged city2 and the continual fall of the splintering fragments would turn even the valley of ,chamouni itself into a stony desolation4 #aj4 ,perhaps in describing mountains with any effort to give some idea of their sublime forms1 no expression comes oftener to the lips than the word peak4 ,and yet it is curious how rarely1 even among the grandest ranges1 an instance can be found of a mountain ascertainably peaked in the true sense of the word1--pointed at the top1 and sloping steeply on all sides2 perhaps not more than five summits in the chain of the ,alps1 the ,finster-,aarhorn1 ,wetterhorn1 ,bietschhorn1 ,weisshorn1 and ,monte ,viso presenting approximations to such a structure4 ,even in the case of not very steep pyramids1 presenting themselves in the distance under some such outline as that at the top of ,fig4 #cj1 it almost invariably happens1 when we approach and examine them1 that they do not slope equally on all their sides1 but are nothing more than steep ends of ridges1 supported by far-extended masses of comparatively level rock1 which1 seen in perspective1 give the impression of a steep slope1 though in reality disposed in a horizonal1 or nearly horizontal1 line4 #aa4 ,supposing the central diagram in ,fig4 #cj to be the apparent contour of a distant mountain1 then its slopes may indeed1 by singular chance1 be as steep as they appear2 but1 in all probability1 several of them are perspective descents of its retiring lines2 and supposing it were formed as the gable roof of the old ,french house below1 and seen under the same angle1 it is evident that the part of the outline a b 7in lettered reference line below7 would be perfectly horizontal2 b c an angle slope1 in retiring perspective1 much less steep than it appears2 c d1 perfectly1 horizontal2 d e1 an advancing or foreshortened angle slope1 less steep than it appears2 and e f1 perfectly horizontal4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #cj4 ,but if the pyramid presents itself under a more formidable aspect1 and with steeper sides than those of the central diagram1 then it may be assumed 7as far as ,i know mountains7 for next to a certainty1 that it is not a pointed obelisk1 but the end of a ridge more or less prolonged1 of which we see the narrow edge or section turned towards us4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ca4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #cb4 ,angles with the horizon x y4 ,of the line a b #ag b c #bj d y 7general slope1 exclusive of inequalities7 #ce a x 7ditto1 ditto1 to point of cliff above x7 #bc ,for instance1 no mountain in the ,alps produces a more vigorous impression of peakedness than the ,matterhorn4 ,in ,professor ,forbes's work on the ,alps1 it is spoken of as an obelisk of rock1 and represented with little exaggeration in his seventh plate under the outline ,fig4 #ca4 ,naturally1 in glancing1 whether at the plate or the mountain1 we assume the mass to be a peak1 and suppose the line a b to be the steep slope of its side4 ,but that line is a perspective line4 ,it is in reality perfectly horizontal1 corresponding to e f in the penthouse roof1 ,fig4 #cj4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #cc4 ,angles with the horizon x y4 a f #ef a e #ab e b 7from point to point7 #dd b c 7 ditto1 ditto 7 #fg c d 7overhanging7 #gi a x 7irrespective of irregularities7 #ef a y #ch #ab4 ,i say perfectly horizontal1 meaning1 of course1 in general tendency4 ,it is more or less irregular and broken1 but so nearly horizontal that1 after some prolonged examination of the data ,i have collected about the ,matterhorn1 ,i am at this moment in doubt which is its top4 ,for as1 in order to examine the beds on its flanks1 ,i walked up the ,zmutt glacier1 ,i saw that the line a b in ,fig4 #ca gradually lost its steepness2 and about half-way up the glacier1 the conjectural summit a then bearing nearly ,s4 ,e4 7forty degrees east of south71 ,i found the contour was as in ,fig4 #cb4 ,in ,fig4 #cc1 ,i have given the contour as seen from ,zermatt2 and in all three1 the same letters indicate the same points4 ,in the ,figures #cb and #cc ,i measured the angles with the greatest care1#fa from the base lines x y1 which are accurately horizontal2 and their general truth1 irrespective of mere ruggedness1 may be depended upon4 ,now in this flank view1 ,fig4 #cb1 what was the summit at ,zermatt1 a1 becomes quite subordinate1 and the point b1 far down the flank in ,forbes's view taken from the ,riffelhorn1 is here the apparent summit4 ,i was for some time in considerable doubt which of the appearances was most trustworthy2 and believe now that they are both deceptive2 for ,i found1 on ascending the flank of the hills on the other side of the ,valais1 to a height of about five thousand feet above ,brieg1 between the ,aletsch glacier and ,bietschhorn2 being thus high enough to get a view of the ,matterhorn on something like distant terms of equality1 up the ,st4 ,nicholas valley1 it presented itself under the outline ,fig4 #cd1 which seems to be conclusive for the supremacy of the point e1 between a and b in ,fig4 #cc4 ,but the impossibility of determining1 at the foot of it1 without a trigonometrical observation1 which is the top of such an apparent peak as the ,matterhorn1 may serve to show the reader how little the eye is to be trusted for the verification of peaked outline4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #cd4 #ac4 ,in like manner1 the aiguilles of ,chamouni1 which present themselves to the traveller1 as he looks up to them from the village1 under an outline approximating to that rudely indicated at ,c in the next figure1 are in reality buttresses projecting from an intermediate ridge4 ,let ,a be supposed to be a castle wall1 with slightly elevated masses of square-built buttresses at intervals4 ,then1 by a process of dilapidation1 these buttresses might easily be brought to assume in their perspective of ruin the forms indicated at ,b1 which1 with certain modifications1 is the actual shape of the ,chamouni aiguilles4 ,the top of the ,aiguille ,charmoz is not the point under d1 but that under e4 ,the deception is much increased by the elevation of the whole castle wall on the green bank before spoken of1 which raises its foundation several thousand feet above the eye1 and thus1 giving amazing steepness to all the perspective lines1 produces an impression of the utmost possible isolation of peaks1 where1 in reality1 there is a well-supported1 and more or less continuous1 though sharply jagged1 pile of solid walls4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ce4 #ad4 ,there is1 however1 this great difference between the castle wall and aiguilles1 that the dilapidation in the one would take place by the fall of horizontal bricks or stones2 in the aiguilles it takes place in quite an opposite manner by the flaking away of nearly vertical ones4 ,this is the next point of great interest respecting them4 ,observe1 the object of their construction appears to be the attainment of the utmost possible peakedness in aspect1 with the least possible danger to the inhabitants of the valleys4 ,as1 therefore1 they are first thrown into transverse ridges1 which take1 in perspective1 a more or less peaked outline1 so1 in their dilapidation1 they split into narrow flakes1 which1 if seen edgeways1 look as sharp as a lance-point1 but are nevertheless still strong2 being each of them1 in reality1 not a lance-point or needle1 but a hatchet edge4 #ae4 ,and since if these sharp flakes broke straight across the masses of mountain1 when once the fissure took place1 all hold would be lost between flake and flake1 it is ordered 7and herein is the most notable thing in the whole matter7 that they shall not break straight1 but in curves1 round the body of the aiguilles1 somewhat in the manner of the coats of an onion2 so that1 even after fissure has taken place1 the detached film or flake clings to and leans upon the central mass1 and will not fall from it till centuries of piercing frost have wedged it utterly from its hold2 and1 even then1 will not fall all at once1 but drop to pieces slowly1 and flake by flake4 ,consider a little the beneficence of this ordinance2#fb supposing the cliffs had been built like the castle wall1 the mouldering away of a few bricks1 more or less1 at the bottom would have brought down huge masses above1 as it constantly does in ruins1 and in the mouldering cliffs of the slaty coherents2 while yet the top of the mountain would have been always blunt and rounded1 as at a1 ,fig4 #cf1 when seen against the sky4 ,but the aiguille being built in these nearly vertical curved flakes1 the worst that the frost can do to it is to push its undermost rocks asunder into forms such as at b1 of which1 when many of the edges have fallen1 the lower ones are more or less supported by the very dbris accumulated at their feet2 and yet all the while the tops sustain themselves in the most fantastic and incredible fineness of peak against the sky4 ,illustration3 ,j4 ,ruskin4 ,j4 ,c4 ,armytage4 #ca4 ,the ,aiguille ,blaitire4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #cf4 #af4 ,i have drawn the flakes in ,fig4 #cf1 for illustration's sake1 under a caricatured form4 ,their real aspect will be understood in a moment by a glance at the opposite plate1 #ca1 which represents the central aiguille in the woodcut outline ,fig4 #ce 7,aiguille ,blaitire1 called by ,forbes ,greppond71 as seen from within about half a mile of its actual base4 ,the white shell-like mass beneath it is a small glacier1 which in its beautifully curved outline#fc appears to sympathize with the sweep of the rocks beneath1 rising and breaking like a wave at the feet of the remarkable horn or spur which supports it on the right4 ,the base of the aiguille itself is1 as it were1 washed by this glacier1 or by the snow which covers it1 till late in the season1 as a cliff is by the sea2 except that a narrow chasm1 of some twenty or thirty feet in depth and two or three feet wide1 usually separates the rock from the ice1 which is melted away by the heat reflected from the southern face of the aiguille4 ,the rock all along this base line is of the most magnificent compactness and hardness1 and rings under the hammer like a bell2 yet1 when regarded from a little distance1 it is seen to be distinctly inclined to separate into grand curved flakes or sheets1 of which the dark edges are well marked in the plate4 ,the pyramidal form of the aiguille1 as seen from this point1 is1 however1 entirely deceptive2 the square rock which forms its apparent summit is not the real top1 but much in advance of it1 and the slope on the right against the sky is a perspective line2 while1 on the other hand1 the precipice in light1 above the three small horns at the narrowest part of the glacier1 is considerably steeper than it appears to be1 the cleavage of the flakes crossing it somewhat obliquely4 ,but ,i show the aiguille from this spot that the reader may more distinctly note the fellowship between its curved precipice and the little dark horn or spur which bounds the glacier2 a spur the more remarkable because there is just such another1 jutting in like manner from the corresponding angle of the next aiguille 7,charmoz71 both of them looking like remnants or foundations of the vaster ancient pyramids1 of which the greater part has been by ages carried away4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #cg4 #ag4 ,the more ,i examined the range of the aiguilles the more ,i was struck by this curved cleavage as their principal character4 ,it is quite true that they have other straighter cleavages 7noticed in the ,appendix1 as the investigation of them would be tiresome to the general reader72 but it is this to which they owe the whole picturesqueness of their contours2 curved as it is1 not simply1 but often into the most strange shell-like undulations1 as will be understood by a glance at ,fig4 #cg1 which shows the mere governing lines at the base of this ,aiguille ,blaitire1 seen1 with its spur1 from a station some quarter of a mile nearer it1 and more to the east than that chosen in ,plate #ca4 ,these leading lines are rarely well shown in fine weather1 the important contour from a downwards being hardly relieved clearly from the precipice beyond 7b71 unless a cloud intervenes1 as it did when ,i made this memorandum2 while1 again1 the leading lines of the ,aiguille du ,plan1 as seen from the foot of it1 close to the rocks1 are as at ,fig4 #ch1 the generally pyramidal outline being nearly similar to that of ,blaitire1 and a spur being thrown out to the right1 under a1 composed in exactly the same manner of curved folia of rock laid one against the other4 ,the hollow in the heart of the aiguille is as smooth and sweeping in curve as the cavity of a vast bivalve shell4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ch4 #ah4 ,i call these the governing or leading lines1 not because they are the first which strike the eye1 but because1 like those of the grain of the wood in a tree-trunk1 they rule the swell and fall and change of all the mass4 ,in ,nature1 or in a photograph1 a careless observer will by no means be struck by them1 any more than he would by the curves of the tree2 and an ordinary artist would draw rather the cragginess and granulation of the surfaces1 just as he would rather draw the bark and moss of the trunk4 ,nor can any one be more steadfastly adverse than ,i to every substitution of anatomical knowledge for outward and apparent fact2 but so it is1 that as an artist increases in acuteness of perception1 the facts which become outward and apparent to him are those which bear upon the growth or make of the thing4 ,and1 just as in looking at any woodcut of trees after ,titian or ,albert ,durer1 as compared with a modern water-color sketch1 we shall always be struck by the writhing and rounding of the tree trunks in the one1 and the stiffness1 and merely blotted or granulated surfaces of the other2 so1 in looking at these rocks1 the keenness of the artist's eye may almost precisely be tested by the degree in which he perceives the curves that give them their strength and grace1 and in harmony with which the flakes of granite are bound together1 like the bones of the jaw of a saurian4 ,thus the ten years of study which ,i have given to these mountains since ,i described them in the first volume as traversed sometimes by graceful curvilinear fissures1 sometimes by straight fissures1 have enabled me to ascertain1 and now generally at a glance to see1 that the curvilinear ones are dominant1 and that even the fissures or edges which appear perfectly straight have almost always some delicate sympathy with the curves4 ,occasionally1 however1 as in the separate beds which form the spur or horn of the ,aiguille ,blaitire1 seen in true profile in ,plate #bi1 ,fig4 #c1 the straightness is so accurate that1 not having brought a rule with me up the glacier1 ,i was obliged to write under my sketch1 ,not possible to draw it straight enough4 ,compare also the lines sloping to the left in ,fig4 #ch4 #ai4 ,but why not give everything just as it is2 without caring what is dominant and what subordinate8 ,you cannot4 ,of all the various impossibilities which torment and humiliate the painter1 none are more vexatious than that of drawing a mountain form4 ,it is indeed impossible enough to draw1 by resolute care1 the foam on a wave1 or the outline of the foliage of a large tree2 but in these cases1 when care is at fault1 carelessness will help1 and the dash of the brush will in some measure give wildness to the churning of the foam1 and infinitude to the shaking of the leaves4 ,but chance will not help us with the mountain4 ,its fine and faintly organized edge seems to be definitely traced against the sky2 yet let us set ourselves honestly to follow it1 and we find1 on the instant1 it has disappeared3 and that for two reasons4 ,the first1 that if the mountain be lofty1 and in light1 it is so faint in color that the eye literally cannot trace its separation from the hues next to it4 ,the other day ,i wanted the contour of a limestone mountain in the ,valais1 distant about seven miles1 and as many thousand feet above me2 it was barren limestone2 the morning sun fell upon it1 so as to make it almost vermilion color1 and the sky behind it a bluish green4 ,two tints could hardly have been more opposed1 but both were so subtle1 that ,i found it impossible to see accurately the line that separated the vermilion from the green4 ,the second1 that if the contour be observed from a nearer point1 or looked at when it is dark against the sky1 it will be found composed of millions of minor angles1 crags1 points1 and fissures1 which no human sight or hand can draw finely enough1 and yet all of which have effect upon the mind4 #bj4 ,the outline shown as dark against the sky in ,plate #bi1 ,fig4 #b is about a hundred1 or a hundred and twenty1 yards of the top of the ridge of ,charmoz1 running from the base of the aiguille down to the ,montanvert1 and seen from the moraine of the ,charmoz glacier1 a quarter of a mile distant to the south-west4#fd ,it is formed of decomposing granite1 thrown down in blocks entirely detached1 but wedged together1 so as to stand continually in these seemingly perilous contours 7being a portion of such a base of aiguille as that in b1 ,fig4 #cf1 p4 #ahe74fe ,the block forming the summit on the left is fifteen or eighteen feet long2 and the upper edge of it1 which is the dominant point of the ,charmoz ridge1 is the best spot in the ,chamouni district for giving a thorough command of the relations of the aiguilles on each side of the ,mer de ,glace4 ,now put the book1 with that page open1 upright1 at three yards distance from you1 and try to draw this contour1 which ,i have made as dark and distinct as it ever could be in reality1 and you will immediately understand why it is impossible to draw mountain outlines rightly4 #ba4 ,and if not outlines1 a fortiori not details of mass1 which have all the complexity of the outline multiplied a thousand fold1 and drawn in fainter colors4 ,nothing is more curious than the state of embarrassment into which the unfortunate artist must soon be cast when he endeavors honestly to draw the face of the simplest mountain cliff--say a thousand feet high1 and two or three miles distant4 ,it is full of exquisite details1 all seemingly decisive and clear2 but when he tries to arrest one of them1 he cannot see it1--cannot find where it begins or ends1--and presently it runs into another2 and then he tries to draw that1 but that will not be drawn1 neither1 until it has conducted him to a third1 which1 somehow or another1 made part of the first2 presently he finds that1 instead of three1 there are in reality four1 and then he loses his place altogether4 ,he tries to draw clear lines1 to make his work look craggy1 but finds that then it is too hard2 he tries to draw soft lines1 and it is immediately too soft2 he draws a curved line1 and instantly sees it should have been straight2 a straight one1 and finds when he looks up again1 that it has got curved while he was drawing it4 ,there is nothing for him but despair1 or some sort of abstraction and shorthand for cliff4 ,then the only question is1 what is the wisest abstraction2 and out of the multitude of lines that cannot altogether be interpreted1 which are the really dominant ones2 so that if we cannot give the whole1 we may at least give what will convey the most important facts about the cliff4 ,illustration3 #cb4 ,aiguille ,drawing4 #a4 ,old ,ideal4 #b4 ,turnerian4 #bb4 ,recurring then to our public opinion of the ,aiguille ,charmoz1 we find the greatest exaggeration of1 and therefore ,i suppose the greatest interest in1 the narrow and spiry point on its left side4 ,that is in reality a point at all but a hatchet edge2 a flake of rock1 which is enabled to maintain itself in this sharp-edged state by its writhing folds of sinewy granite4 ,its structure1 on a larger scale1 and seen edge on1 is shown in ,fig4 #da4 ,the whole aiguille is composed of a series of such flakes1 liable1 indeed1 to all kinds of fissure in other directions1 but holding1 by their modes of vertical association1 the strongest authority over the form of the whole mountain4 ,it is not in all lights that they are seen plainly3 for instance1 in the morning effect in ,plate #cj they are hardly traceable3 but the longer we watch1 the more they are perceived2 and their power of sustaining themselves vertically is so great1 that at the foot of the aiguille on the right a few of them form a detached mass1 known as the ,petit ,charmoz1 between ,e and c in ,fig4 #fj1 p4 #baj1 of which the height of the uttermost flake1 between c and d1 is about five hundred feet4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #da4 ,important1 however1 as this curved cleavage is1 it is so confused among others1 that it has taken me1 as ,i said1 ten years of almost successive labor to develope1 in any degree of completeness1 its relations among the aiguilles of ,chamouni2 and even of professed geologists1 the only person who has described it properly is ,de ,saussure1 whose continual sojourn among the ,alps enabled him justly to discern the constant from the inconstant phenomena4 ,and yet1 in his very first journey to ,savoy1 ,turner saw it at a glance1 and fastened on it as the main thing to be expressed in those mountains4 ,in the opposite ,plate 7#cb71 the darkest division1 on the right1 is a tolerably accurate copy of ,turner's rendering of the ,aiguille ,charmoz 7etched and engraved by himself71 in the plate called the ,mer de ,glace1 in the ,liber ,studiorum4 ,its outline is in local respects inaccurate enough1 being modified by ,turnerian topography2 but the flaky character is so definite1 that it looks as if it had been prepared for an illustrative diagram of the points at present under discussion4 #bc4 ,and do not let it be supposed that this was by chance1 or that the modes of mountain drawing at the period would in any wise have helped ,turner to discover these lines4 ,the aiguilles had been drawn before this time1 and the figure on the left in ,plate #cb will show how4 ,it is a facsimile of a piece of an engraving of the ,mer de ,glace1 by ,woollett1 after ,william ,pars1 published in #aghc1 and founded on the general ,wilsonian and ,claudesque principles of landscape common at the time4 ,there are1 in the rest of the plate1 some good arrangements of shadow and true aerial perspective2 and the piece ,i have copied1 which is an attempt to represent the ,aiguille ,dru1 opposite the ,charmoz1 will serve1 not unfairly1 to show how totally inadequate the draughtsmen of the time were to perceive the character of mountains1 and1 also1 how unable the human mind is by itself to conceive anything like the variety of natural form4 ,the workman had not looked at the thing1--trusted to his ,ideal1 supposed that broken and rugged rocks might be shaped better out of his own head than by ,nature's laws1--and we see what comes of it4 #bd4 ,and now1 lastly1 observe1 in the laws by which this strange curvilinear structure is given to the aiguilles1 how the provision for beauty of form is made in the first landscape materials we have to study4 ,we have permitted ourselves1 according to that unsystematic mode of proceeding pleaded for in the opening of our present task1 to wander hither and thither as this or that question rose before us1 and demanded1 or tempted1 our pursuit4 ,but the reader must yet remember that our special business in this section of the work is the observance of the nature of beauty1 and of the degrees in which the aspect of any object fulfils the laws of beauty stated in the second volume4 ,now in the fifteenth paragraph of the chapter on infinity1 it was stated that curvature was essential to all beauty1 and that what we should need more especially to prove1 was the constancy of curvature in all natural forms whatsoever4 ,and these aiguilles1 which are the first objects we have had definitely to consider1 appeared as little likely to fulfil the condition as anything we could have come upon4 ,i am well assured that the majority of spectators see no curves in them at all1 but an intensely upright1 stern1 spiry ruggedness and angularity4 ,and we might even beforehand have been led to expect1 and to be contented in expecting1 nothing else from them than this2 for since1 as we have said often1 they are part of the earth's skeleton1 being created to sustain and strengthen everything else1 and yet differ from a skeleton in this1 that the earth is not only supported by their strength1 but fed by their ruin2 so that they are first composed of the hardest and least tractable substance1 and then exposed to such storm and violence as shall beat large parts of them to powder2--under these desperate conditions of being1 ,i say1 we might have anticipated some correspondent ruggedness and terribleness of aspect1 some such refusal to comply with ordinary laws of beauty1 as we often see in other things and creatures put to hard work1 and sustaining distress or violence4 #be4 ,and truly1 at first sight1 there is such refusal in their look1 and their shattered walls and crests seem to rise in a gloomy contrast with the soft waves of bank and wood beneath2 nor do ,i mean to press the mere fact1 that1 as we look longer at them1 other lines become perceptible1 because it might be thought no proof of their beauty that they needed long attention in order to be discerned4 ,but ,i think this much at least is deserving of our notice1 as confirmatory of foregone conclusions1 that the forms which in other things are produced by slow increase1 or gradual abrasion of surface1 are here produced by rough fracture1 when rough fracture is to be the law of existence4 ,a rose is rounded by its own soft ways of growth1 a reed is bowed into tender curvature by the pressure of the breeze2 but we could not1 from these1 have proved any resolved preference1 by ,nature1 of curved lines to others1 inasmuch as it might always have been answered that the curves were produced1 not for beauty's sake1 but infallibly1 by the laws of vegetable existence2 and1 looking at broken flints or rugged banks afterwards1 we might have thought that we only liked the curved lines because associated with life and organism1 and disliked the angular ones1 because associated with inaction and disorder4 ,but ,nature gives us in these mountains a more clear demonstration of her will4 ,she is here driven to make fracture the law of being4 ,she cannot tuft the rock-edges with moss1 or round them by water1 or hide them with leaves and roots4 ,she is bound to produce a form1 admirable to human beings1 by continual breaking away of substance4 ,and behold--so soon as she is compelled to do this--she changes the law of fracture itself4 ,growth1 she seems to say1 is not essential to my work1 nor concealment1 nor softness2 but curvature is3 and if ,i must produce my forms by breaking them1 the fracture itself shall be in curves4 ,if1 instead of dew and sunshine1 the only instruments ,i am to use are the lightning and the frost1 then their forked tongues and crystal wedges shall still work out my laws of tender line4 ,devastation instead of nurture may be the task of all my elements1 and age after age may only prolong the unrenovated ruin2 but the appointments of typical beauty which have been made over all creatures shall not therefore be abandoned2 and the rocks shall be ruled1 in their perpetual perishing1 by the same ordinances that direct the bending of the reed and the blush of the rose4 ,,footnotes #eg ,see1 for explanatory statements1 ,appendix #b4 #eh ,i have been able to examine these conditions with much care in the chain of ,mont ,blanc only1 which ,i chose for the subject of investigation both as being the most interesting to the general traveller1 and as being the only range of the central mountains which had been much painted by ,turner4 ,but ,i believe the singular arrangements of beds which take place in this chain have been found by the ,german geologists to prevail also in the highest peaks of the ,western ,alps2 and there are a peculiar beauty and providence in them which induce me to expect that farther inquiries may justify our attributing them to some very extensive law of the earth's structure4 ,see the notes from ,de ,saussure in ,appendix #b4 #ei ,that is to say1 as it appears to me4 ,there are some points of the following statements which are disputed among geologists2 the reader will find them hereafter discussed at greater length4 #fj ,running1 at that point very nearly1 ,n4 ,e4 and ,s4 ,w41 and dipping under the ice at an angle of about seventy degrees4 #fa ,it was often of great importance to me to ascertain these apparent slopes with some degree of correctness4 ,in order to do so without the trouble of carrying any instrument 7except my compass and spirit-level71 ,i had my ,alpine pole made as even as a round rule for about a foot in the middle of its length4 ,taking the bearing of the mountain1 placing the pole at right angles to the bearing1 and adjusting it by the spirit-level1 ,i brought the edge of a piece of finely cut pasteboard parallel1 in a vertical plane 7plumbed71 with the apparent slope of the hillside4 ,a pencil line drawn by the pole then gave me a horizon1 with which the angle could be easily measured at home4 ,the measurements thus obtained are given under the figures4 #fb ,that is to say1 in a cliff intended to owe its outline to dilapidation4 ,where no dilapidation is to be permitted1 the bedded structure1 well knit1 is always used4 ,of this we shall see various examples in the #afth chapter4 #fc ,given already as an example of curvature in the ,stones of ,venice1 vol4 #a1 plate #g4 #fd ,the top of the aiguille of the ,little ,charmoz bearing1 from the point whence this sketch was made1 about six degrees east of north4 #fe ,the summits of the aiguilles are often more fantastically rent still4 ,fig4 #ci is the profile of a portion of the upper edge of the ,aiguille du ,moine1 seen from the crest of ,charmoz2 ,fig4 #dj shows the three lateral fragments1 drawn to a larger scale4 ,the height of each of the upright masses must be from twenty to twenty-five feet4 ,i do not know if their rude resemblance to two figures1 on opposite sides of a table or altar1 has had anything to do with the name of the aiguille4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ci4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #dj4 ,,chapter ,,xv4 ,,resulting ,,forms3--,,secondly1 ,,crests4 #a4 ,between the aiguilles1 or other conditions of central peak1 and the hills which are clearly formed1 as explained in ,chap4 ,,xii4 #aa1 by the mere breaking of the edges of solid beds of coherent rock1 there occurs almost always a condition of mountain summit1 intermediate in aspect1 as in position4 ,the aiguille may generally be represented by the type a1 ,fig4 #db2 the solid and simple beds of rock by the type c4 ,the condition b1 clearly intermediate between the two1 is1 on the whole1 the most graceful and perfect in which mountain masses occur4 ,it seems to have attracted more of the attention of the poets than either of the others2 and the ordinary word1 crest1 which we carelessly use in speaking of mountain summits1 as if it meant little more than edge or ridge1 has a peculiar force and propriety when applied to ranges of cliff whose contours correspond thus closely to the principal lines of the crest of a ,greek helmet4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #db4 #b4 ,there is another resemblance which they can hardly fail to suggest when at all irregular in form1--that of a wave about to break4 ,byron uses the image definitely of ,soracte2 and1 in a less clear way1 it seems to present itself occasionally to all minds1 there being a general tendency to give or accept accounts of mountain form under the image of waves2 and to speak of a hilly country1 seen from above1 as looking like a sea of mountains4 ,such expressions1 vaguely used1 do not1 ,i think1 generally imply much more than that the ground is waved or undulated into bold masses4 ,but if we give prolonged attention to the mountains of the group b we shall gradually begin to feel that more profound truth is couched under this mode of speaking1 and that there is indeed an appearance of action and united movement in these crested masses1 nearly resembling that of sea waves2 that they seem not to be heaped up1 but to leap or toss themselves up2 and in doing so1 to wreathe and twist their summits into the most fantastic1 yet harmonious1 curves1 governed by some grand under-sweep like that of a tide1 running through the whole body of the mountain chain4 ,illustration3 ,,fig #dc4 ,for instance1 in ,fig4 #dc1 which gives1 rudely1 the leading lines of the junction of the ,aiguille pourri#ff 7,chamouni7 with the ,aiguilles ,rouges1 the reader cannot1 ,i think1 but feel that there is something which binds the mountains together--some common influence at their heart which they cannot resist3 and that1 however they may be broken or disordered1 there is as true unity among them as in the sweep of a wild wave1 governed1 through all its foaming ridges1 by constant laws of weight and motion4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #dd4 #c4 ,how far this apparent unity is the result of elevatory force in mountain1 and how far of the sculptural force of water upon the mountain1 is the question we have mainly to deal with in the present chapter4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #de4 ,but first look back to ,fig4 #g1 of ,plate #h1 ,vol4 ,,iii41 there given as the typical representation of the ruling forces of growth in a leaf4 ,take away the extreme portion of the curve on the left1 and any segment of the leaf remaining1 terminated by one of its ribs1 as a or b1 ,fig4 #dd1 will be equally a typical contour of a common crested mountain4 ,if the reader will merely turn ,plate #h so as to look at the figure upright1 with its stalk downwards1 he will see that it is also the base of the honeysuckle ornament of the ,greeks4 ,i may anticipate what we shall have to note with respect to vegetation so far as to tell him that it is also the base of form in all timber trees4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #df4 #d4 ,there seems something1 therefore1 in this contour which makes its production one of the principal aims of ,nature in all her compositions4 ,the cause of this appears to be1 that as the cinqfoil is the simplest expression of proportion1 this is the simplest expression of opposition1 in unequal curved lines4 ,if we take any lines1 a x and e g1 ,fig4 #de1 both of varied curvature 7not segments of circles71 and one shorter than the other1 and join them together so as to form one line1 as b x1 x g1 we shall have one of the common lines of beauty2 if we join them at an angle1 as c x1 x y1 we shall have the common crest1 which is in fact merely a jointed line of beauty4 ,if we join them as at a1 ,fig4 #df1 they form a line at once monotonous and cramped1 and the jointed condition of this same line1 b1 is hardly less so4 ,it is easily proved1 therefore1 that the junction of lines c x1 x y1 is the simplest and most graceful mode of opposition2 and easily observed that in branches of trees1 wings of birds1 and other more or less regular organizations1 such groups of line are continually made to govern the contours4 ,but it is not so easily seen why or how this form should be impressed upon irregular heaps of mountain4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #dg4 #e4 ,if a bed of coherent rock be raised1 in the manner described in ,chap4 ,,xiii41 so as to form a broken precipice with its edge1 and a long slope with its surface1 as at a1 ,fig4 #dg 7and in this way nearly all hills are raised71 the top of the precipice has usually a tendency to crumble down1 and1 in process of time1 to form a heap of advanced ruins at its foot4 ,on the other side1 the back or slope of the hill does not crumble down1 but is gradually worn away by the streams2 and as these are always more considerable1 both in velocity and weight1 at the bottom of the slope than the top1 the ground is faster worn away at the bottom1 and the straight slope is cut to a curve of continually increasing steepness4 ,fig4 #dg b represents the contour to which the hill a would thus be brought in process of time2 the dotted line indicating its original form4 ,the result1 it will be seen1 is a crest4#fg ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #dh4 #f4 ,but crests of this uniform substance and continuous outline occur only among hills composed of the softest coherent rocks1 and seldom attain any elevation such as to make them important or impressive4 ,the notable crests are composed of the hard coherents or slaty crystallines1 and then the contour of the crests depends mainly on the question whether in the original mass of it1 the beds lie as at a or as at b1 ,fig4 #dh4 ,if they lie as at a1 then the resultant crest will have the general appearance seen at c2 the edges of the beds getting separated and serrated by the weather4 ,if the beds lie as at b1 the resultant crest will be of such a contour as that at d4 ,the crests of the contour d are formed usually by the harder coherent rocks1 and are notable chiefly for their bold precipices in front1 and regular slopes1 or sweeping curves1 at the back4 ,we shall examine them under the special head of precipices4 ,but the crests of the form at c belong usually to the slaty crystallines1 and are those properly called crests1 their edges looking1 especially when covered with pines1 like separated plumes4 ,these it is our chief business to examine in the present chapter4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #di4 #g4 ,in order to obtain this kind of crest1 we first require to have our mountain beds thrown up in the form a1 ,fig4 #dh4 ,this is not easily done on a large scale1 except among the slaty crystallines forming the flanks of the great chains1 as in ,fig4 #bi1 p4 #agf4 ,in that figure it will be seen that the beds forming each side of the chain of ,mont ,blanc are thrown into the required steepness1 and therefore1 whenever they are broken towards the central mountain1 they naturally form the front of a crest1 while the torrents and glaciers falling over their longer slopes1 carve them into rounded banks towards the valley4 #h4 ,but the beauty of a crest or bird's wing consists1 in nature1 not merely in its curved terminal outline1 but in the radiation of the plumes1 so that while each assumes a different curve1 every curve shall show a certain harmony of direction with all the others4 ,we shall have to enter into the examination of this subject at greater length in the #agth chapter2 meanwhile1 it is sufficient to observe the law in a single example1 such as ,fig4 #di1 which is a wing of one of the angels in ,durer's woodcut of the ,fall of ,lucifer4#fh ,at first sight1 the plumes seem disposed with much irregularity1 but there is a sense of power and motion in the whole which the reader would find was at once lost by a careless copyist2 for it depends on the fact that if we take the principal curves at any points of the wing1 and continue them in the lines which they are pursuing at the moment they terminate1 these continued lines will all meet in a single point1 ,c4 ,it is this law which gives unity to the wing4 ,all groups of curves set beside each other depend for their beauty upon the observance of this law2#fi and if1 therefore1 the mountain crests are to be perfectly beautiful1 ,nature must contrive to get this element of radiant curvature into them in one way or another4 ,nor does it1 at first sight1 appear easy for her to get1 ,i do not say radiant curves1 but curves at all3 for in the aiguilles1 she actually bent their beds2 but in these slaty crystallines it seems not always convenient to her to bend the beds2 and when they are to remain straight1 she must obtain the curvature in some other way4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ej4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ea4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #eb4 #i4 ,one way in which she gets it is curiously simple in itself1 but somewhat difficult to explain1 unless the reader will be at the pains of making a little model for himself out of paste or clay4 ,hitherto1 observe1 we have spoken of these crests as seen at their sides1 as a ,greek helmet is seen from the side of the wearer4 ,by means presently to be examined1 these mountain crests are so shaped that1 seen in front1 or from behind 7as a helmet crest is seen in front of or behind the wearer71 they present the contour of a sharp ridge1 or house gable4 ,now if the breadth of this ridge at its base remains the same1 while its height gradually diminishes from the front of it to the back 7as from the top of the crest to the back of the helmet71 it necessarily assumes the form of such a quaint gable roof as that shown in profile in ,fig4 #ej1 and in perspective#gj in ,fig4 #ea1 in which the gable is steep at the end farthest off1 but depressed at the end nearest us2 and the rows of tiles1 in consequence1 though in reality quite straight1 appear to radiate as they retire1 owing to their different slopes4 ,when a mountain crest is thus formed1 and the concave curve of its front is carried into its flanks1 each edge of bed assuming this concave curve1 and radiating1 like the rows of tiles1 in perspective at the same time1 the whole crest is thrown into the form ,fig4 #eb1 which is that of the radiating plume required4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ec4 #aj4 ,it often happens1 however1 that ,nature does not choose to keep the ridge broad at the lower extremity1 so as to diminish its steepness4 ,but when this is not so1 and the base is narrowed so that the slope of side shall be nearly equal everywhere1 she almost always obtains her varied curvature of the plume in another way1 by merely turning the crest a little round as it descends4 ,i will not confuse the reader by examining the complicated results of such turning on the inclined lines of the strata2 but he can understand1 in a moment1 its effect on another series of lines1 those caused by rivulets of water down the sides of the crest4 ,these lines are1 of course1 always1 in general tendency1 perpendicular4 ,let a1 ,fig4 #ec1 be a circular funnel1 painted inside with a pattern of vertical lines meeting at the bottom4 ,suppose these lines to represent the ravines traced by the water4 ,cut off a portion of the lip of the funnel1 as at b1 to represent the crest side4 ,cut the edge so as to slope down towards you1 and add a slope on the other side4 ,then give each inner line the concave sweep1 and you have your ridge c1 of the required form1 with radiant curvature4 #aa4 ,a greater space of such a crest is always seen on its concave than on its convex side 7the outside of the funnel72 of this other perspective ,i shall have to speak hereafter2 meantime1 we had better continue the examination of the proper crest1 the c of ,fig4 #dh1 in some special instance4 ,the form is obtained usually in the greatest perfection among the high ridges near the central chain1 where the beds of the slaty crystallines are steep and hard4 ,perhaps the most interesting example ,i can choose for close examination will be that of a mountain in ,chamouni1 called the ,aiguille ,bouchard1 now familiar to the eye of every traveller1 being the ridge which rises1 exactly opposite the ,montanvert1 beyond the ,mer de ,glace4 ,the structure of this crest is best seen from near the foot of the ,montanvert1 on the road to the source of the ,arveiron1 whence the top of it1 a1 presents itself under the outline given rudely in the opposite plate 7#cc71 in which it will be seen that1 while the main energy of the mountain mass tosses itself against the central chain of ,mont ,blanc 7which is on the right hand71 it is met by a group of counter-crests1 like the recoil of a broken wave cast against it from the other side2 and yet1 as the recoiling water has a sympathy with the under swell of the very wave against which it clashes1 the whole mass writhes together in strange unity of mountain passion2 so that it is almost impossible to persuade oneself1 after long looking at it1 that the crests have not indeed been once fused and tossed into the air by a tempest which had mastery over them1 as the winds have over ocean4 #ab4 ,and yet1 if we examine the crest structure closely1 we shall find that nearly all these curvatures are obtained by ,nature's skilful handling of perfectly straight beds1--only the meeting of those two waves of crest is indeed indicative of the meeting of two masses of different rocks2 it marks that junction of the slaty with the compact crystallines1 which has before been noticed as the principal mystery of rock structure4 ,to this junction my attention was chiefly directed during my stay at ,chamouni1 as ,i found it was always at that point that ,nature produced the loveliest mountain forms4 ,perhaps the time ,i gave to the study of it may have exaggerated its interest in my eyes2 and the reader who does not care for these geological questions1 except in their direct bearing upon art1 may1 without much harm1 miss the next seven paragraphs1 and go on at the twenty-first4 ,yet there is one point1 in a ,turner drawing presently to be examined1 which ,i cannot explain without inflicting the tediousness even of these seven upon him4 ,illustration3 ,j4 ,ruskin4 ,r4 ,p4 ,cuff4 #cc4 ,leading ,contours of ,aiguille ,bouchard4 #ac4 ,first1 then1 the right of the ,aiguille ,bouchard to be called a crest at all depends1 not on the slope from a to b1 ,plate #cc1 but on that from a to h4 ,the slope from a to b is a perspective deception2 b is much the highest point of the two4 ,seen from the village of ,chamouni1 the range presents itself under the outline ,fig4 #ed1 the same points in each figure being indicated by the same letters4 ,from the end of the valley the supremacy of the mass b c is still more notable4 ,it is altogether with mountains as with human spirits1 you never know which is greatest till they are far away4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ed4 #ad4 ,it will be observed also1 that the beauty of the crest1 in both ,plate #cc and ,fig4 #ed1 depends on the gradually increasing steepness of the lines of slope between a and b4 ,this is in great part deceptive1 being obtained by the receding of the crest into a great mountain crater1 or basin1 as explained in #aa4 ,but this very recession is a matter of interest1 for it takes place exactly on the line above spoken of1 where the slaty crystallines of the crest join the compact crystallines of the aiguilles2 at which junction a correspondent chasm or recession1 of some kind or another1 takes place along the whole front of ,mont ,blanc4 #ae4 ,in the third paragraph of the last chapter we had occasion to refer to the junction of the slaty and compact crystallines at the roots of the aiguilles4 ,it will be seen in the figure there given1 that this change is not sudden1 but gradated4 ,the rocks to be joined are of the two types represented in ,fig4 #c1 p4 #ajf 7for convenience' sake ,i shall in the rest of this chapter call the slaty rock gneiss1 and the compact rock protogine1 its usual ,french name74 ,fig4 #ee shows the general manner of junction1 beds of gneiss occurring in the middle of the protogine1 and of protogine in the gneiss2 sometimes one touching the other so closely1 that a hammer-stroke breaks off a piece of both2 sometimes one passing into the other by a gradual change1 like the zones of a rainbow2 the only general phenomenon being this1 that the higher up the hill the gneiss is1 the harder it is 7so that while it often yields to the pressure of the finger down in the valley1 on the ,montanvert it is nearly as hard as protogine72 and1 on the other hand1 the lower down the hill1 or the nearer the gneiss1 the protogine is1 the finer it is in grain4 ,but still the actual transition from one to the other is usually within a few fathoms2 and it is that transition1 and the preparation for it1 which causes the great step1 or jag1 on the flank of the chain1 and forms the tops of the ,aiguille ,bouchard1 ,charmoz ridges1 ,tapia1 ,montagne de la ,cte1 ,montagne de ,taconay1 and ,aiguille du ,gout4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ee4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ef4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #eg4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #eh4 #af4 ,but what most puzzled me was the intense straightness of the lines of the gneiss beds1 dipping1 as it seemed1 under the ,mont ,blanc4 ,for it has been a chief theory with geologists that these central protogine rocks have once been in fusion1 and have risen up in molten fury1 overturning and altering all the rocks around4 ,but every day1 as ,i looked at the crested flanks of the ,mont ,blanc1 ,i saw more plainly the exquisite regularity of the slopes of the beds1 ruled1 it seemed1 with an architect's rule1 along the edge of their every flake from the summits to the valley4 ,and this surprised me the more because ,i had always heard it stated that the beds of the lateral crests1 a and b1 ,fig4 #ef1 varied in slope1 getting less and less inclined as they descended1 so as to arrange themselves somewhat in the form of a fan4 ,it may be so2 but ,i can only say that all my observations and drawings give an opposite report1 and that the beds seemed invariably to present themselves to the eye and the pencil in parallelism1 modified only by the phenomena just explained 7 #i1 #aj74 ,thus the entire mass of the ,aiguille ,bouchard1 of which only the top is represented in ,plate #cc1 appeared to me in profile1 as in ,fig4 #eg1 dependent for all its effect and character on the descent of the beds in the directions of the dotted lines1 a1 b1 d4 ,the interrupting space1 g g1 is the ,glacier des ,bois2 ,m is the ,montanvert2 c1 c1 the rocks under the glacier1 much worn by the fall of avalanches1 but1 for all that1 showing the steep lines still with the greatest distinctness4 ,again1 looking down the valley instead of up1 so as to put the ,mont ,blanc on the left hand1 the principal crests which support it1 ,taconay and ,la ,cte1 always appeared to me constructed as in ,plate #ce 7p4 #bab71 they also depending for all their effect on the descent of the beds in diagonal lines towards the left4 ,nay1 half-way up the ,breven1 whence the structure of the ,mont ,blanc is commanded1 as far as these lower buttresses are concerned1 better than from the top of the ,breven1 ,i drew carefully the cleavages of the beds1 as high as the edge of the ,aiguille de ,gout1 and found them exquisitely parallel throughout2 and again on the ,cormayeur side1 though less steep1 the beds a1 b1 ,fig4 #eh1 traversing the vertical irregular fissures of the great aiguille of the ,alle ,blanche1 as seen over the ,lac de ,combal1 still appeared to me perfectly regular and parallel4#ga ,i have not had time to trace them round1 through the ,aiguille de ,bionassay1 and above the ,col de ,bonhomme1 though ,i know the relations of the beds of limestone to the gneiss on the latter col are most notable and interesting4 ,but1 as far as was required for any artistical purposes1 ,i perfectly ascertained the fact that1 whatever their real structure might be1 these beds did appear1 through the softer contours of the hill1 as straight and parallel2 that they continued to appear so until near the tops of the crests2 and that those tops seemed1 in some mysterious way1 dependent on the junction of the gneissitic beds with1 or their transition into1 the harder protogine of the aiguilles4 ,look back to ,plate #cc4 ,the peak of the ,bouchard1 a1 is of gneiss1 and its beds run down in lines originally straight1 but more or less hollowed by weathering1 to the point h1 where they plunge under dbris4 ,but the point b is1 ,i believe1 of protogine2 and all the opposed writhing of the waves of rock to the right appears to be in consequence of the junction4 ,illustration3 #cd4 ,cleavages of ,aiguille ,bouchard4 #ag4 ,the way in which these curves are produced cannot1 however1 be guessed at until we examine the junction more closely4 ,ascending about five hundred feet above the cabin of the ,montanvert1 the opposite crest of the ,bouchard1 from a to c1 ,plate #cc1 is seen more in front1 expanded into the jagged line1 a to c1 ,plate #cd1 and the beds1 with their fractures1 are now seen clearly throughout the mass1 namely3 #ast4 7,see references on plate74 ,the true gneiss beds dipping down in the direction ,g ,h1 the point ,h being the same as h in ,plate #cc4 ,these are the beds so notable for their accurate straightness and parallelism4 #bnd4 ,the smooth fractures which in the middle of the etching seem to divide the column of rock into a kind of brickwork4 ,they are very neat and sharp1 running nearly at right angles with the true beds4#gb #crd4 ,the curved fractures of the aiguilles 7seen first under the letter b1 and seeming to push outwards against the gneiss beds#gc7 continuing through c and the spur below4 #dth4 ,an irregular cleavage1 something like that of starch1 showing itself in broken vertical lines4 #eth4 ,writhing lines1 cut by water4 ,these have the greatest possible influence on the aspect of the precipice3 they are not merely caused by torrents1 but by falls of winter snow1 and stones from the glacier moraines1 so that the cliff being continually worn away at the foot of it1 is wrought into a great amphitheatre1 of which the receding sweep continually varies the apparent steepness of the crest1 as already explained4 ,i believe in ancient times the great ,glacier des ,bois itself used to fill this amphitheatre1 and break right up against the base of the ,bouchard4 #fth4 ,curvatures worn by water over the back of the crest towards the valley1 in the direction g i4 #gth4 ,a tendency 7which ,i do not understand7 to form horizontal masses at the levels k and l4#gd ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #fa4 #ah4 ,the reader may imagine what strange harmonies and changes of line must result throughout the mass of the mountain from the varied prevalence of one or other of these secret inclinations of its rocks 7modified1 also1 as they are by perpetual deceptions of perspective71 and how completely the rigidity or parallelism of any one of them is conquered by the fitful urgencies of the rest1--a sevenfold action seeming to run through every atom of crag4 ,for the sake of clearness1 ,i have shown in this plate merely leading lines2 the next 7,plate #ce1 opposite7 will give some idea of the complete aspect of two of the principal crests on the ,mont ,blanc flanks1 known as the ,montagne de la ,cte1 and ,montagne de ,taconay1 c and t in ,fig4 #bb1 at page #afc4 ,in which note1 first1 that the eminences marked a a1 b b1 c c1 here1 in the reference figure 7#fa71 are in each of the mountains correspondent1 and indicate certain changes in the conditions of their beds at those points4 ,i have no doubt the two mountains were once one mass1 and that they have been sawn asunder by the great glacier of ,taconay1 which descends between them2 and similarly the ,montagne de la ,cte sawn from the ,tapia by the glacier des ,bossons1 ,b ,b in reference figure4 ,illustration3 #ce4 ,crests of ,la ,cte and ,taconay4 ,illustration3 #cf4 ,crest of ,la ,cte4 #ai4 ,note1 secondly1 the general tendency in each mountain to throw itself into concave curves towards the ,mont ,blanc1 and descend in rounded slopes to the valley2 more or less interrupted by the direct manifestation of the straight beds1 which are indeed1 in this view of ,taconay1 the principal features of it4 ,they necessarily become1 however1 more prominent in the outline etching than in the scene itself1 because in reality the delicate cleavages are lost in distance or in mist1 and the effects of light bring out the rounded forms of the larger masses2 and wherever the clouds fill the hollows between1 as they are apt to do1 7the glaciers causing a chillness in the ravines1 while the wind1 blowing up the larger valleys1 clears the edges of the crests17 the summits show themselves as in ,plate #cf1 dividing1 with their dark frontlets1 the perpetual sweep of the glaciers and the clouds4#ge #bj4 ,of the aqueous curvatures of this crest1 we shall have more to say presently2 meantime let us especially observe how the providential laws of beauty1 acting with reversed data1 arrive at similar results in the aiguilles and crests4 ,in the aiguilles1 which are of such hard rock that the fall of snow and trickling of streams do not affect them1 the inner structure is so disposed as to bring out the curvatures by the mere fracture4 ,in the crests and lower hills1 which are of softer rock1 and largely influenced by external violence1 the inner structure is straight1 and the necessary curvatures are produced by perspective1 by external modulation1 and by the balancing of adverse influences of cleavage4 ,but1 as the accuracy of an artist's eye is usually shown by his perceiving the inner anatomy which regulates growth and form1 and as in the aiguilles1 while we watch them1 we are continually discovering new curves1 so in the crests1 while we watch them1 we are continually discovering new straightnesses2 and nothing more distinguishes good mountain-drawing1 or mountain-seeing1 from careless and inefficient mountain-drawing1 than the observance of the marvellous parallelisms which exist among the beds of the crests4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #fb4 #ba4 ,it indeed happens1 not unfrequently1 that in hills composed of somewhat soft rock1 the aqueous contours will so prevail over the straight cleavage as to leave nothing manifest at the first glance but sweeping lines like those of waves4 ,fig4 #dc1 p4 #aif1 is the crest of a mountain on the north of the valley of ,chamouni1 known1 from the rapid decay and fall of its crags1 as the ,aiguille ,pourri2 and at first there indeed seems little distinction between its contours and those of the summit of a sea wave4 ,yet ,i think also1 if it were a wave1 we should immediately suppose the tide was running towards the right hand2 and if we examined the reason for this supposition1 we should perceive that along the ridge the steepest falls of crag were always on the right-hand side2 indicating a tendency in them to break rather in the direction of the line a b than any other4 ,if we go half-way down the ,montanvert1 and examine the left side of the crest somewhat more closely1 we shall find this tendency still more definitely visible1 as in ,fig4 #fb4 #bb4 ,but what1 then1 has given rise to all those coiled plungings of the crest hither and thither1 yet with such strange unity of motion8 ,yes4 ,there is the cloud4 ,how the top of the hill was first shaped so as to let the currents of water act upon it in so varied a way we know not1 but ,i think that the appearance of interior force of elevation is for the most part deceptive4 ,the series of beds would be found1 if examined in section1 very uniform in their arrangement1 only a little harder in one place1 and more delicate in another4 ,a stream receives a slight impulse this way or that1 at the top of the hill1 but increases in energy and sweep as it descends1 gathering into itself others from its sides1 and uniting their power with its own4 ,a single knot of quartz occurring in a flake of slate at the crest of the ridge may alter the entire destinies of the mountain form4 ,it may turn the little rivulet of water to the right or left1 and that little turn will be to the future direction of the gathering stream what the touch of a finger on the barrel of a rifle would be to the direction of the bullet4 ,each succeeding year increases the importance of every determined form1 and arranges in masses yet more and more harmonious1 the promontories shaped by the sweeping of the eternal waterfalls4 #bc4 ,the importance of the results thus obtained by the slightest change of direction in the infant streamlets1 furnishes an interesting type of the formation of human characters by habit4 ,every one of those notable ravines and crags is the expression1 not of any sudden violence done to the mountain1 but of its little habits1 persisted in continually4 ,it was created with one ruling instinct2 but its destiny depended nevertheless1 for effective result1 on the direction of the small and all but invisible tricklings of water1 in which the first shower of rain found its way down its sides4 ,the feeblest1 most insensible oozings of the drops of dew among its dust were in reality arbiters of its eternal form2 commissioned1 with a touch more tender than that of a child's finger1--as silent and slight as the fall of a half-checked tear on a maiden's cheek1--to fix for ever the forms of peak and precipice1 and hew those leagues of lifted granite into the shapes that were to divide the earth and its kingdoms4 ,once the little stone evaded1--once the dim furrow traced1--and the peak was for ever invested with its majesty1 the ravine for ever doomed to its degradation4 ,thenceforward1 day by day1 the subtle habit gained in power2 the evaded stone was left with wider basement2 the chosen furrow deepened with swifter-sliding wave2 repentance and arrest were alike impossible1 and hour after hour saw written in larger and rockier characters upon the sky1 the history of the choice that had been directed by a drop of rain1 and of the balance that had been turned by a grain of sand4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #fc4 #bd4 ,such are the principal laws1 relating to the crested mountains1 for the expression of which we are to look to art2 and we shall accordingly find good and intelligent mountain-drawing distinguished from bad mountain-drawing1 by an indication1 first1 of the artist's recognition of some great harmony among the summits1 and of their tendency to throw themselves into tidal waves1 closely resembling those of the sea itself2 sometimes in free tossing towards the sky1 but more frequently still in the form of breakers1 concave and steep on one side1 convex and less steep on the other2 secondly1 by his indication of straight beds or fractures1 continually stiffening themselves through the curves in some given direction4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #fd4 #be4 ,fig4 #fc is a facsimile of a piece of the background in ,albert ,durer's woodcut of the binding of the great ,dragon in the ,apocalypse4 ,it is one of his most careless and rudest pieces of drawing2 yet1 observe in it how notably the impulse of the breaking wave is indicated2 and note farther1 how different a thing good drawing may be from delicate drawing on the one hand1 and how different it must be from ignorant drawing on the other4 ,woodcutting1 in ,durer's days1 had reached no delicacy capable of expressing subtle detail or aerial perspective4 ,but all the subtlety and aerial perspective of modern days are useless1 and even barbarous1 if they fail in the expression of the essential mountain facts4 #bf4 ,it will be noticed1 however1 that in this example of ,durer's1 the recognition of straightness of line does not exist1 and that for this reason the hills look soft and earthy1 not rocky4 ,so1 also1 in the next example1 ,fig4 #fd1 the crest in the middle distance is exceedingly fine in its expression of mountain force2 the two ridges of it being thrown up like the two edges of a return wave that has just been beaten back from a rock4 ,it is still1 however1 somewhat wanting in the expression of straightness1 and therefore slightly unnatural4 ,it was not people's way in the ,middle ,ages to look at mountains carefully enough to discover the most subtle elements of their structure4 ,yet in the next example1 ,fig4 #fe1 the parallelism and rigidity are definitely indicated1 the crest outline being1 however1 less definite4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #fe4 ,note1 also 7in passing71 the entire equality of the lines in all these examples1 whether turned to dark or light4 ,all good outline drawing1 as noticed in the chapter on finish1 agrees in this character4 #bg4 ,the next figure 7#ff7 is interesting because it furnishes one of the few instances in which ,titian definitely took a suggestion from the ,alps1 as he saw them from his house at ,venice4 ,it is from an old print of a shepherd with a flock of sheep by the sea-side1 in which he has introduced a sea distance1 with the ,venetian church of ,st4 ,helena1 some subordinate buildings resembling those of ,murano1 and this piece of cloud and mountain4 ,the peak represented is one of the greater ,tyrolese ,alps1 which shows itself from ,venice behind an opening in the chain1 and is their culminating point4 ,in reality the mass is of the shape given in ,fig4 #fg4 ,titian has modified it into an energetic crest1 showing his feeling for the form1 but ,i have no doubt that the woodcut reverses ,titian's original work 7whatever it was71 and that he gave the crest the true inclination to the right1 or east1 which it has in nature4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ff4 #bh4 ,now1 it not unfrequently happens that in ,claude's distances he introduces actual outlines of ,capri1 ,ischia1 ,monte ,st4 ,angelo1 the ,alban ,mount1 and other chains about ,rome and ,naples1 more or less faithfully copied from nature4 ,when he does so1 confining himself to mere outline1 the grey contours seen against the distance are often satisfactory enough2 but as soon as he brings one of them nearer1 so as to require any drawing within its mass1 it is quite curious to see the state of paralysis into which he is thrown for want of any perception of the mountain anatomy4 ,fig4 #fh is one of the largest hills ,i can find in the ,liber ,veritatis 7,no4 #hf71 and it will be seen that there are only a few lines inserted towards the edges1 drawn in the direction of the sides of the heap1 or cone1 wholly without consciousness of any interior structure4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #fg4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #fh4 #bi4 ,i put below it1 outlined also in the rudest way 7for as ,i take the shade away from the ,liber ,veritatis1 ,i am bound also to take it away from ,turner71 ,fig4 #fi1 a bit of the crags in the drawing of ,loch ,coriskin1 partly described already in #e of the chapter on the ,inferior ,mountains in ,vol4 ,i4 ,the crest form is1 indeed1 here accidentally prominent1 and developed to a degree rare even with ,turner2 but note1 besides this1 the way in which ,turner leans on the centre and body of the hill1 not on its edge2 marking its strata stone by stone1 just as a good figure painter1 drawing a limb1 marks the fall and rise of the joint1 letting the outline sink back softened2 and compare the exactly opposite method of ,claude1 holding for life to his outline1 as a ,greek navigator holds to the shore4#gf ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #fi4 #cj4 ,lest1 however1 it should be thought that ,i have unfairly chosen my examples1 let me take an instance at once less singular and more elaborate4 ,we saw in our account of ,turnerian topography1 ,chap4 ,,ii41 #ad1 that it had been necessary for the painter1 in his modification of the view in the ravine of ,fado1 to introduce a passage from among the higher peaks2 which1 being thus intended expressly to convey the general impression of their character1 must sufficiently illustrate what ,turner felt that character to be4 ,observe3 it could not be taken from the great central aiguilles1 for none such exist at all near ,fado2 it could only be an expression of what ,turner considered the noblest attributes of the hills next to these in elevation1--that is to say1 those which we are now examining4 ,i have etched the portion of the picture which includes this passage1 on page #bba1 on its own scale1 including the whole couloir above the gallery1 and the gallery itself1 with the rocks beside it4#gg ,and now1 if the reader will look back to ,plate #bj1 which is the outline of the real scene1 he will have a perfect example1 in comparing the two1 of the operation of invention of the highest order on a given subject4 ,i should recommend him to put a piece of tracing paper over the etching1 ,plate #cg1 and with his pen to follow some of the lines of it as carefully as he can1 until he feels their complexity1 and the redundance of the imaginative power which amplified the simple theme1 furnished by the natural scene1 with such detail2 and then let him observe what great mountain laws ,turner has been striving to express in all these additions4 #ca4 ,the cleavages which govern the whole are precisely the same as those of the ,aiguille ,bouchard1 only wrought into grander combinations4 ,that the reader may the better distinguish them1 ,i give the leading lines coarsely for reference in ,fig4 #gj1 opposite4 ,the cleavages and lines of force are the following4 ,illustration3 ,j4 ,m4 ,w4 ,turner4 ,j4 ,ruskin4 #cg4 ,crests of the ,slaty ,crystallines4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #gj4 #a4 ,a ,b and associated lines a b1 a b1 c41 over the whole plate4 ,true beds or cleavage beds 7g h in ,aiguille ,bouchard1 ,plate #cd72 here1 observe1 closing in retiring perspective with exquisite subtlety1 and giving the great unity of radiation to the whole mass4 #b4 ,d ,e and associated lines d e1 d e1 over all the plate4 ,cross cleavage1 the second in ,aiguille ,bouchard2 straight and sharp4 ,forming here the series of crests at ,b and ,d4 #c4 r s1 r s4 ,counter-crests1 closely corresponding to counter-fracture1 the third in ,aiguille ,bouchard4 #d4 m n1 m n1 c41 over the whole4 ,writhing aqueous lines falling gradually into the cleavages4 ,fifth group in ,aiguille ,bouchard4 ,the starchy cleavage is not seen here1 it being not generally characteristic of the crests1 and present in the ,bouchard only accidentally4 #e4 x x x4 ,sinuous lines worn by the water1 indicative of some softness or flaws in the rock2 these probably the occasion or consequence of the formation of the great precipice or brow on the right4 ,we shall have more to say of them in ,chap4 ,,xvii4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ga4 #f4 g f1 g f1 c4 ,broad aqueous or glacial curvatures4 ,the sixth group in ,aiguille ,bouchard4 #g4 k l1 k l4 ,concave curves wrought by the descending avalanche2 peculiar1 of course1 to this spot4 #h4 i h1 i h4 ,secondary convex curves1 glacial or aqueous1 corresponding to g f1 but wrought into the minor secondary ravine4 ,this secondary ravine is associated with the opponent aiguillesque masses r s2 and the cause of the break or gap between these and the crests ,b ,d is indicated by the elbow or joint of nearer rock1 ,m1 where the distortion of the beds or change in their nature first takes place4 ,turner's idea of the structure of the whole mass has evidently been that in section it was as in ,fig4 #ga1 snapped asunder by elevation1 with a nucleus at ,m1 which1 allowing for perspective1 is precisely on the line of the chasm running in the direction of the arrow2 but he gives more of the curved aiguillesque fracture to these upper crests1 which are greater in elevation 7and we saw1 sometime ago1 that the higher the rock the harder74 ,and that nucleus of change at ,m1 the hinge1 as it were1 on which all these promontories of upper crest revolve1 is the first or nearest of the evaded stones1 which have determined the course of streams and nod of cliffs throughout the chain4 #cb4 ,i can well believe that the reader will doubt the possibility of all this being intended by ,turner3 and intended1 in the ordinary sense1 it was not4 ,it was simply seen and instinctively painted1 according to the command of the imaginative dream1 as the true ,griffin was1 and as all noble things are4 ,but if the reader fancies that the apparent truth came by mere chance1 or that ,i am imagining purpose and arrangement where they do not exist1 let him be once for all assured that no man goes through the kind of work which1 by this time1 he must be beginning to perceive ,i have gone through1 either for the sake of deceiving others1 or with any great likelihood of deceiving himself4 ,he who desires to deceive the picture-purchasing public may do so cheaply2 and it is easy to bring almost any kind of art into notice without climbing ,alps or measuring cleavages4 ,but any one1 on the other hand1 who desires to ascertain facts1 and will refer all art directly to nature for many laborious years1 will not at last find himself an easy prey to groundless enthusiasms1 or erroneous fancies4 ,foolish people are fond of repeating a story which has gone the full round of the artistical world1--that ,turner1 some day1 somewhere1 said to somebody 7time1 place1 or person never being ascertainable71 that ,i discovered in his pictures things which he did himself not know were there4 ,turner was not a person apt to say things of this kind2 being generally1 respecting all the movements of his own mind1 as silent as a granite crest2 and if he ever did say it1 was probably laughing at the person to whom he was speaking4 ,but he might have said it in the most perfect sincerity2 nay1 ,i am quite sure that1 to a certain extent1 the case really was as he is reported to have declared1 and that he neither was aware of the value of the truths he had seized nor understood the nature of the instinct that combined them4 ,and yet the truth was assuredly apprehended1 and the instinct assuredly present and imperative2 and any artists who try to imitate the smallest portion of his work will find that no happy chances will1 for them1 gather together the resemblances of fact1 nor1 for them1 mimic the majesty of invention4#gh #cc4 ,no happy chance--nay1 no happy thought--no perfect knowledge--will ever take the place of that mighty unconsciousness4 ,i have often had to repeat that ,turner1 in the ordinary sense of the words1 neither knew nor thought so much as other men4 ,whenever his perception failed--that is to say1 with respect to scientific truths which produce no results palpable to the eye--he fell into the frankest errors4 ,for instance1 in such a thing as the relation of position between a rainbow and the sun1 there is not any definitely visible connection between them2 it needs attention and calculation to discover that the centre of the rainbow is the shadow of the spectator's head4#gi ,and attention or calculation of this abstract kind ,turner appears to have been utterly incapable of2 but if he drew a piece of drapery1 in which every line of the folds has a visible relation to the points of suspension1 not a merely calculable one1 this relation he will see to the last thread2 and thus he traces the order of the mountain crests to their last stone1 not because he knows anything of geology1 but because he instinctively seizes the last and finest traces of any visible law4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #gb4 #cd4 ,he was1 however1 especially obedient to these laws of the crests1 because he heartily loved them4 ,we saw in the early part of this chapter how the crest outlines harmonized with nearly every other beautiful form of natural objects1 especially in the continuity of their external curves4 ,this continuity was so grateful to ,turner's heart that he would often go great lengths to serve it4 ,for instance1 in one of his drawings of the town of ,lucerne he has first outlined the ,mont ,pilate in pencil1 with a central peak1 as indicated by the dotted line in ,fig4 #gb4 ,this is nearly true to the local fact2 but being inconsistent with the general look of crests1 and contrary to ,turner's instincts1 he strikes off the refractory summit1 and1 leaving his pencil outline still in the sky1 touches with color only the contour shown by the continuous line in the figure1 thus treating it just as we saw ,titian did the great ,alp of the ,tyrol4 ,he probably1 however1 would not have done this with so important a feature of the scene as the ,mont ,pilate1 had not the continuous line been absolutely necessary to his composition1 in order to oppose the peaked towers of the town1 which were his principal subject2 the form of the ,pilate being seen only as a rosy shadow in the far off sky4 ,we cannot1 however1 yet estimate the importance1 in his mind1 of this continuity of descending curve1 until we come to the examination of the lower hill flanks1 hitherto having been concerned only with their rocky summits2 and before we leave those summits1 or rather the harder rocks which compose them1 there is yet another condition of those rocks to be examined2 and that the condition which is commonly the most interesting1 namely1 the ,precipice4 ,to this inquiry1 however1 we had better devote a separate chapter4 ,,footnotes #ff ,so called from the mouldering nature of its rocks4 ,they are slaty crystallines1 but unusually fragile4 #fg ,the materials removed from the slope are spread over the plain or valley below4 ,a nearly equal quantity is supposed to be removed from the other side2 but besides this removed mass1 the materials crumble heavily from above1 and form the concave curve4 #fh ,the lines are a little too straight in their continuations1 the engraver having cut some of the curvature out of their thickness1 thinking ,i had drawn them too coarsely4 ,but ,i have chosen this coarsely lined example1 and others like it1 following1 because ,i wish to accustom the reader to distinguish between the mere fineness of instrument in the artist's hand1 and the precision of the line he draws4 ,give ,titian a blunt pen1 and still ,titian's line will be a noble one3 a tyro1 with a pen well mended1 may draw more neatly2 but his lines ought to be discerned from ,titian's1 if we understand drawing4 ,every line in this woodcut of ,durer's is refined2 and that in the noblest sense4 ,whether broad or fine does not matter1 the lines are right2 and the most delicate false line is evermore to be despised1 in presence of the coarsest faithful one4 #fi ,not absolutely on the meeting of the curves in one point1 but on their radiating with some harmonious succession of difference in direction4 ,the difference between lines which are in true harmony of radiation1 and lines which are not1 can1 in complicated masses1 only be detected by a trained eye2 yet it is often the chief difference between good and bad drawing4 ,a cluster of six or seven black plumes forming the wing of one of the cherubs in ,titian's ,assumption1 at ,venice1 has a freedom and force about it in the painting which no copyist or engraver has ever yet rendered1 though it depends merely on the subtlety of the curves1 not on the color4 #gj ,out of perspective1 ,i should have said3 but it will show what ,i mean4 #ga ,nor did any nearer observations ever induce me to form any contrary opinion4 ,it is not easy to get any consistent series of measurements of the slope of these gneiss beds2 for1 although parallel on the great scale1 they admit many varieties of dip in minor projections4 ,but all my notes unite1 whether at the bottom or top of the great slope of the ,montanvert and ,la ,cte1 in giving an angle of from #fj to #hj with the horizon2 the consistent angle being about #ge4 ,i cannot be mistaken in the measurements themselves1 however inconclusive observations on minor portions of rock may be2 for ,i never mark an angle unless enough of the upper or lower surface of the beds be smoothly exposed to admit of my pole being adjusted to it by the spirit-level4 ,the pole then indicates the strike of the beds1 and a quadrant with a plumb-line their dip2 to all intents and purposes accurately4 ,there is a curious distortion of the beds in the ravine between the ,glacier des ,bois and foot of the ,montanvert1 near the ice1 about a thousand feet above the valley2 the beds there seem to bend suddenly back under the glacier1 and in some places to be quite vertical4 ,on the opposite side of the glacier1 below the ,chapeau1 the dip of the limestone under the gneiss1 with the intermediate bed1 seven or eight feet thick1 of the grey porous rock which the ,french call cargneule1 is highly interesting2 but it is so concealed by dbris and the soil of the pine forests1 as to be difficult to examine to any extent4 ,on the whole1 the best position for getting the angle of the beds accurately1 is the top of the ,tapia1 a little below the junction there of the granite and gneiss 7see notice of this junction in ,appendix #b72 a point from which the summit of the ,aiguille du ,gout bears #aa south of west1 and that of the ,aiguille ,bouchard #ag north of east1 the ,aiguille ,dru #e or #f north of east1 the peak of it appearing behind the ,petit ,charmoz4 ,the beds of gneiss emerging from the turf under the spectator's feet may be brought parallel by the eye with the slopes of the ,aiguille du ,gout on one side1 and the ,bouchard 7and base of ,aiguille d',argentire7 on the other2 striking as nearly as possible from summit to summit through that on which the spectator stands1 or from about #aj north of east to #aj south of west1 and dipping with exquisite uniformity at an angle of #gd degrees with the horizon4 ,but what struck me as still more strange was1 that from this point ,i could distinctly see traces of the same straight structure running through the ,petit ,charmoz1 and the roots of the aiguilles themselves1 as in ,fig4 #ei2 nor could ,i ever1 in the course of countless observations1 fairly determine any point where this slaty structure altogether had ceased4 ,it seemed only to get less and less traceable towards the centre of the mass of ,mont ,blanc2 and1 from the ridge of the ,aiguille ,bouchard itself1 at the point a in ,plate #cc1 whence1 looking south-west1 the aiguilles can be seen in the most accurate profile obtainable throughout the valley of ,chamouni1 ,i noticed a very singular parallelism even on the south-east side of the ,charmoz1 x y 7,fig4 #fj71 as if the continued influence of this cleavage were carried on from the ,little ,charmoz1 c1 d 7in which1 seen on the opposite side1 ,i had traced it as in ,fig4 #ei71 through the central mass of rock r4 ,in this profile1 ,m is the ,mont ,blanc itself2 m1 the ,aiguille du ,midi2 ,p1 ,aiguille du ,plan2 b1 ,aiguille ,blaitire2 ,c1 ,great ,charmoz2 c1 ,petit ,charmoz2 ,e1 passage called de l',etala4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ei4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #fj4 #gb ,many geologists think they are the true beds4 ,they run across the gneissitic folia1 and ,i hold with ,de ,saussure1 and consider them a cleavage4 #gc ,i tried in vain to get along the ridge of the ,bouchard to this junction1 the edge of the precipice between a and b 7,plate #cc7 being too broken2 but the point corresponds so closely to that of the junction of the gneiss and protogine on the ,charmoz ridge1 that1 adding the evidence of the distant contour1 ,i have no doubt as to the general relations of the rocks4 #gd ,de ,saussure often refers to these as assaissements4 ,they occur1 here and there1 in the aiguilles themselves4 #ge ,the aqueous curves and roundings on the nearer crest 7,la ,cte7 are peculiarly tender1 because the gneiss of which it is composed is softer in grain than that of the ,bouchard1 and remains so even to the very top of the peak1 a1 in ,fig4 #fa1 where ,i found it mixed with a yellowish and somewhat sandy quartz rock1 and generally much less protogenic than is usual at such elevations on other parts of the chain4 #gf ,it is worth while noting here1 in comparing ,fig4 #ff and ,fig4 #fh1 how entirely our judgment of some kinds of art depends upon knowledge1 not on feeling4 ,any person unacquainted with hills would think ,claude's right and ,titian's ridiculous3 but1 after inquiring a little farther into the matter1 we find ,titian's a careless and intense expression of true knowledge1 and ,claude's a slow and plausible expression of total ignorance4 ,it will be observed that ,fig4 #fi is one of the second order of crests1 d1 ,fig4 #dh4 ,the next instance given is of the first order of crests1 c1 in the same figure #gg ,this etching1 like that of the ,bolton rocks1 is prepared for future mezzo-tint1 and looks harsh in its present state2 but will mark all the more clearly several points of structure in question4 ,the diamond-shaped rock1 however1 7,m1 in the reference figure17 is not so conspicuous here as it will be when the plate is finished1 being relieved in light from the mass behind1 as also the faint distant crests in dark from the sky4 #gh ,an anecdote is related1 more to our present purpose1 and better authenticated1 inasmuch as the name of the artist to whom ,turner was speaking at the time is commonly stated1 though ,i do not give it here1 not having asked his permission4 ,the story runs that this artist 7one of our leading landscape painters7 was complaining to ,turner that1 after going to ,domo d',ossola1 to find the site of a particular view which had struck him several years before1 he had entirely failed in doing so2 it looked different when he went back again4 ,what1 replied ,turner1 do you not know yet1 at your age1 that you ought to paint your impressions8 #gi ,so1 in the exact length or shape of shadows in general1 he will often be found quite inaccurate2 because the irregularity caused in shadows by the shape of what they fall on1 as well as what they fall from1 renders the law of connection untraceable by the eye or the instinct4 ,the chief visible thing about a shadow is1 that it is always of some form which nobody would have thought of2 and this visible principle ,turner always seizes1 sometimes wrongly in calculated fact1 but always so rightly as to give more the look of a real shadow than any one else4 ,,chapter ,,xvi ,,resulting ,,forms3--,,thirdly1 ,,precipices4 #a4 ,the reader was1 perhaps1 surprised by the smallness of the number to which our foregoing analysis reduced ,alpine summits bearing an ascertainedly peaked or pyramidal form4 ,he might not be less so if ,i were to number the very few occasions on which ,i have seen a true precipice of any considerable height4 ,i mean by a true precipice1 one by which a plumb-line will swing clear1 or without touching the face of it1 if suspended from a point a foot or two beyond the brow4 ,not only are perfect precipices of this kind very rare1 but even imperfect precipices1 which often produce upon the eye as majestic an impression as if they were vertical1 are nearly always curiously low in proportion to the general mass of the hills to which they belong4 ,they are for the most part small steps or rents in large surfaces of mountain1 and mingled by ,nature among her softer forms1 as cautiously and sparingly as the utmost exertion of his voice is1 by a great speaker1 with his tones of gentleness4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #gc4 #b4 ,precipices1 in the large plurality of cases1 consist of the edge of a bed of rock1 sharply fractured1 in the manner already explained in ,chap4 ,,xii41 and are represented1 in their connection with aiguilles and crests1 by c1 in ,fig4 #db1 p4 #aie4 ,when the bed of rock slopes backwards from the edge1 as a1 ,fig4 #gc1 a condition of precipice is obtained more or less peaked1 very safe1 and very grand4#hj ,when the beds are horizontal1 b1 the precipice is steeper1 more dangerous1 but much less impressive4 ,when the beds slope towards the precipice1 the front of it overhangs1 and the noblest effect is obtained which is possible in mountain forms of this kind4 #c4 ,singularly enough1 the type b is in actual nature nearly always the most dangerous of the three1 and c the safest1 for horizontal beds are usually of the softest rocks1 and their cliffs are caused by some violent agency in constant operation1 as chalk cliffs by the wearing power of the sea1 so that such rocks are continually falling1 in one place or another4 ,the form a may also be assumed by very soft rocks4 ,but c cannot exist at all on the large scale1 unless it is built of good materials1 and it will then frequently stay in its fixed frown for ages4 #d4 ,it occasionally happens that a precipice is formed among the higher crests by the sides of vertical beds of slaty crystallines4 ,such rocks are rare1 and never very high1 but always beautiful in their smoothness of surface and general trenchant and firm expression4 ,one of the most interesting ,i know is that of the summit of the ,breven1 on the north of the valley of ,chamouni4 ,the mountain is formed by vertical sheets of slaty crystallines1 rather soft at the bottom1 and getting harder and harder towards the top1 until at the very summit it is hard and compact as the granite of ,waterloo ,bridge1 though much finer in the grain1 and breaking into perpendicular faces of rock so perfectly cut as to feel smooth to the hand4 ,fig4 #d1 p4 #ajg1 represents1 of the real size1 a bit which ,i broke from the edge of the cliff1 the shaded part underneath being the surface which forms the precipice4 ,the plumb-line from the brow of this cliff hangs clear #abd ,english feet2 it is then caught by a ledge about three feet wide1 from which another precipice falls to about twice the height of the first2 but ,i had not line enough to measure it with from the top1 and could not get down to the ledge4 ,when ,i say the line hangs clear1 ,i mean when once it is off the actual brow of the cliff1 which is a little rounded for about fourteen or fifteen feet1 from a to b1 in the section1 ,fig4 #ge4 ,then the rock recedes in an almost unbroken concave sweep1 detaching itself from the plumb-line about two feet at the point c 7the lateral dimensions are exaggerated to show the curve71 and approaching it again at the ledge d1 which is #abd feet below a4 ,the plumb-line1 fortunately1 can be seen throughout its whole extent from a sharp bastion of the precipice farther on1 for the face of the cliff runs1 in horizontal plan1 very nearly to the magnetic north and south1 as shown in ,fig4 #gd1 the plumb-line swinging at a1 and seen from the advanced point ,p4 ,it would give a similar result at any other part of the cliff face1 but may be most conveniently cast from the point a1 a little below1 and to the north of the summit4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #gd4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ge4 #e4 ,but although the other divisions of this precipice1 below the ledge which stops the plummet1 give it altogether a height of about five hundred feet1#ha the whole looks a mere step on the huge slope of the ,breven2 and it only deserves mention among ,alpine cliffs as one of singular beauty and decision1 yet perfectly approachable and examinable even by the worst climbers2 which is very rarely the case with cliffs of the same boldness4 ,i suppose that this is the reason for its having been often stated in scientific works that no cliff could be found in the ,alps from which a plumb-line would swing two hundred feet4 ,this can possibly be true 7and even with this limitation ,i doubt it7 of cliffs conveniently approachable by experimental philosophers4 ,for1 indeed1 one way or another1 it is curious how ,nature fences out1 as it were1 the brows of her boldest precipices4 ,wherever a plumb-line will swing1 the precipice is1 almost without exception1 of the type c1 in ,fig4 #gc1 the brow of it rounding towards the edge for1 perhaps1 fifty or a hundred yards above1 rendering it unsafe in the highest degree for any inexperienced person to attempt approach4 ,but it is often possible to ascertain from a distance1 if the cliff can be got relieved against the sky1 the approximate degree of its precipitousness4 #f4 ,it may1 ,i think1 be assumed1 almost with certainty1 that whenever a precipice is very bold and very high1 it is formed by beds more or less approaching horizontally1 out of which it has been cut1 like the side of a haystack from which part has been removed4 ,the wonderfulness of this operation ,i have before insisted upon2 here we have to examine the best examples of it4 ,as1 in forms of central rock1 the ,aiguilles of ,chamouni1 so in notableness of lateral precipice1 the ,matterhorn1 or ,mont ,cervin1 stands1 on the whole1 unrivalled among the ,alps1 being terminated1 on two of its sides1 by precipices which produce on the imagination nearly the effect of verticality4 ,there is1 however1 only one point at which they reach anything approaching such a condition2 and that point is wholly inaccessible either from below or above1 but sufficiently measurable by a series of observations4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 #gg4 #g4 ,from the slope of the hill above1 and to the west of1 the village of ,zermatt1 the ,matterhorn presents itself under the figure shown on the right hand in the opposite plate 7#ch74 ,the whole height of the mass1 from the glacier out of which it rises1 is about #djjj feet2 and although1 as before noticed1 the first slope from the top towards the right is merely a perspective line1 the part of the contour c d1 ,fig4 #cc1 p4 #aha1 which literally overhangs1#hb cannot be4 ,an apparent slope1 however steep1 so that it does not overpass the vertical1 may be a horizontal line2 but the moment it can be shown literally to overhang1 it must be one of two things1--either an actually pendant face of rock1 as at a1 ,fig4 #gg1 or the under edge of an overhanging cornice of rock1 b4 ,of course the latter condition1 on such a scale as this of the ,matterhorn1 would be the more wonderful of the two2 but ,i was anxious to determine which of these it really was4 ,illustration3 #ch4 ,the ,cervin1 from the ,east and ,north-east4 #h4 ,my first object was to reach some spot commanding1 as nearly as might be1 the lateral profile of the ,mont ,cervin4 ,the most available point for this purpose was the top of the ,riffelhorn2 which1 however1 first attempting to climb by its deceitful western side1 and being stopped1 for the moment1 by the singular moat and wall which defend its ,malakhoff-like summit1 fearing that ,i might not be able ultimately to reach the top1 ,i made the drawing of the ,cervin1 on the left hand in ,plate #ch1 from the edge of the moat2 and found afterwards the difference in aspect1 as it was seen from the true summit1 so slight as not to necessitate the trouble of making another drawing4#hc ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #gh4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #gi4 #i4 ,it may be noted in passing1 that this wall which with its regular fosse defends the ,riffelhorn on its western side1 and a similar one on its eastern side1 though neither of them of any considerable height1 are curious instances of trenchant precipice1 formed1 ,i suppose1 by slight slips or faults of the serpentine rock4 ,the summit of the horn1 a1 ,fig4 #gh1 seems to have been pushed up in a mass beyond the rest of the ridge1 or else the rest of the ridge to have dropped from it on each side1 at b c1 leaving the two troublesome faces of cliff right across the crag1 hard1 green as a sea wave1 and polished like the inside of a seashell1 where the weather has not effaced the surface produced by the slip4 ,it is only by getting past the eastern cliff that the summit can be reached at all1 for on its two lateral escarpments the mountain seems quite inaccessible1 being in its whole mass nothing else than the top of a narrow wall with a raised battlement1 as rudely shown in perspective at e d2 the flanks of the wall falling towards the glacier on one side1 and to the lower ,riffel on the other1 four or five hundred feet1 not1 indeed1 in unbroken precipice1 but in a form quite incapable of being scaled4#hd ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #gi4 #aj4 ,to return to the ,cervin4 ,the view of it given on the left hand in ,plate #ch shows the ridge in about its narrowest profile2 and shows also that this ridge is composed of beds of rock shelving across it1 apparently horizontal1 or nearly so1 at the top1 and sloping considerably southwards 7to the spectator's left71 at the bottom4 ,how far this slope is a consequence of the advance of the nearest angle giving a steep perspective to the beds1 ,i cannot say2 my own belief would have been that a great deal of it is thus deceptive1 the beds lying as the tiles do in the somewhat anomalous1 but perfectly conceivable house-roof1 ,fig4 #gi4 ,saussure1 however1 attributes to the beds themselves a very considerable slope4 ,but be this as it may1 the main facts of the thinness of the beds1 their comparative horizontality1 and the daring swordsweep by which the whole mountain has been hewn out of them1 are from this spot comprehensible at a glance4 ,visible1 ,i should have said2 but eternally1 and to the uttermost1 incomprehensible4 ,every geologist who speaks of this mountain seems to be struck by the wonderfulness of its calm sculpture--the absence of all aspect of convulsion1 and yet the stern chiselling of so vast a mass into its precipitous isolation leaving no ruin nor dbris near it4 ,quelle force n'a-t-il pas fallu1 exclaims ,m4 ,saussure1 pour rompre1 et pour balayer tout ce qui manque cette pyramide6 ,what an overturn of all ancient ideas in ,geology1 says ,professor ,forbes1 to find a pinnacle of #ae1jjj feet high above the sea sharp as a pyramid1 and with perpendicular precipices of thousands of feet on every hand1 to be a representative of the older chalk formation2 and what a difficulty to conceive the nature of a convulsion 7even with unlimited power71 which could produce a configuration like the ,mont ,cervin rising from the glacier of ,zmutt6 ,illustration3 ,,fig #hj4 #aa4 ,the term perpendicular is of course applied by the ,professor in the poetical temper of ,reynolds1--that is to say1 in one inattentive to minute exactness in details2 but the effect of this strange ,matterhorn upon the imagination is indeed so great1 that even the gravest philosophers cannot resist it2 and ,professor ,forbes's drawing of the peak1 outlined at page #ahj1 has evidently been made under the influence of considerable excitement4 ,for fear of being deceived by enthusiasm also1 ,i daguerreotyped the ,cervin from the edge of the little lake under the crag of the ,riffelhorn1 with the somewhat amazing result shown in ,fig4 #hj4 ,so cautious is ,nature1 even in her boldest work1 so broadly does she extend the foundations1 and strengthen the buttresses1 of masses which produce so striking an impression as to be described1 even by the most careful writers1 as perpendicular4 #ab4 ,the only portion of the ,matterhorn which approaches such a condition is the shoulder1 before alluded to1 forming a step of about one twelfth the height of the whole peak1 shown by light on its snowy side1 or upper surface1 in the right-hand figure of ,plate #ch4 ,allowing #djjj feet for the height of the peak1 this step or shoulder will be between #cjj and #djj feet in absolute height2 and as it is not only perpendicular1 but assuredly overhangs1 both at this snow-lighted angle and at the other corner of the mountain 7seen against the sky in the same figure71 ,i have not the slightest doubt that a plumb-line would swing from the brow of either of these bastions1 between #fjj and #hjj feet1 without touching rock4 ,the intermediate portion of the cliff which joins them is1 however1 not more than vertical4 ,i was therefore anxious chiefly to observe the structure of the two angles1 and1 to that end1 to see the mountain close on that side1 from the ,zmutt glacier4 #ac4 ,i am afraid my dislike to the nomenclatures invented by the ,german philosophers has been unreasonably1 though involuntarily1 complicated with that which1 crossing out of ,italy1 one necessarily feels for those invented by the ,german peasantry4 ,as travellers now every day more frequently visit the neighborhood of the ,monte ,rosa1 it would surely be a permissible1 because convenient1 poetical license1 to invent some other name for this noble glacier1 whose present title1 certainly not euphonious1 has the additional disadvantage of being easily confounded with that of the ,zermatt glacier1 properly so called4 ,i mean myself1 henceforward1 to call it the ,red glacier1 because1 for two or three miles above its lower extremity1 the whole surface of it is covered with blocks of reddish gneiss1 or other slaty crystalline rocks1--some fallen from the ,cervin1 some from the ,weisshorn1 some brought from the ,stockhi and ,dent d',erin1 but little rolled or ground down in the transit1 and covering the ice1 often four or five feet deep1 with a species of macadamization on a large scale 7each stone being usually some foot or foot and a half in diameter71 anything but convenient to a traveller in haste4 ,higher up1 the ice opens into broad white fields and furrows1 hard and dry1 scarcely fissured at all1 except just under the ,cervin1 and forming a silent and solemn causeway1 paved1 as it seems1 with white marble from side to side2 broad enough for the march of an army in line of battle1 but quiet as a street of tombs in a buried city1 and bordered on each hand by ghostly cliffs of that faint granite purple which seems1 in its far-away height1 as unsubstantial as the dark blue that bounds it2--the whole scene so changeless and soundless2 so removed1 not merely from the presence of men1 but even from their thoughts2 so destitute of all life of tree or herb1 and so immeasurable in its lonely brightness of majestic death1 that it looks like a world from which not only the human1 but the spiritual1 presences had perished1 and the last of its archangels1 building the great mountains for their monuments1 had laid themselves down in the sunlight to an eternal rest1 each in his white shroud4 #ad4 ,the first point from which the ,matterhorn precipices1 which ,i came to examine1 show their structure distinctly1 is about half-way up the valley1 before reaching the glacier4 ,the most convenient path1 and access to the ice1 are on the south2 but it is best1 in order to watch the changes of the ,matterhorn1 to keep on the north side of the valley2 and1 at the point just named1 the shoulder marked e in ,fig4 #cc1 p4 #aha1 is seen1 in the morning sunlight1 to be composed of zigzag beds1 apparently of eddied sand4 7,fig4 #ha47 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ha4 ,i have no doubt they once were eddied sand2 that is to say1 sea or torrent drift1 hardened by fire into crystalline rock2 but whether they ever were or not1 the certain fact is1 that here we have a precipice1 trenchant1 overhanging1 and #ejj feet in height1 cut across the thin beds which compose it as smoothly as a piece of fine-grained wood is cut with a chisel4 #ae4 ,from this point1 also1 the nature of the corresponding bastion1 c d1 ,fig #cc1 is also discernible4 ,it is the edge of a great concave precipice1 cut out of the mountain1 as the smooth hollows are out of the rocks at the foot of a waterfall1 and across which the variously colored beds1 thrown by perspective into corresponding curvatures1 run exactly like the seams of canvas in a ,venetian felucca's sail4 ,seen from this spot1 it seems impossible that the mountain should long support itself in such a form1 but the impression is only caused by the concealment of the vast proportions of the mass behind1 whose poise is quite unaffected by this hollowing at one point4 ,thenceforward1 as we ascend the glacier1 the ,matterhorn every moment expands in apparent width2 and having reached the foot of the ,stockhi 7about a four hours' walk from ,zermatt71 and getting the ,cervin summit to bear ,s4 #aa ,e41 ,i made the drawing of it engraved opposite1 which gives a true idea of the relations between it and the masses of its foundation4 ,the bearing stated is that of the apparent summit only1 as from this point the true summit is not visible2 the rocks which seem to form the greatest part of the mountain being in reality nothing but its foundations1 while the little white jagged peak1 relieved against the dark hollow just below the seeming summit1 is the rock marked g in ,fig4 #cc4 ,but the structure of the mass1 and the long ranges of horizontal1 or nearly horizontal1 beds which form its crest1 showing in black points like arrow-heads through the snow1 where their ridges are left projecting by the avalanche channels1 are better seen than at any other point ,i reached1 together with the sweeping and thin zones of sandy gneiss below1 bending apparently like a coach-spring2 and the notable point about the whole is1 that this under-bed1 of seemingly the most delicate substance1 is that prepared by ,nature to build her boldest precipice with1 it being this bed which emerges at the two bastions or shoulders before noticed1 and which by that projection causes the strange oblique distortion of the whole mountain mass1 as it is seen from ,zermatt4 ,illustration3 ,j4 ,ruskin4 ,j4 ,c4 ,armytage4 #ci4 ,the ,cervin1 from the ,north-,west4 #af4 ,and our surprise will still be increased as we farther examine the materials of which the whole mountain is composed4 ,in many places its crystalline slates1 where their horizontal surfaces are exposed along the projecting beds of their foundations1 break into ruin so total that the foot dashes through their loose red flakes as through heaps of autumn leaves2 and yet1 just where their structure seems most delicate1 just where they seem to have been swept before the eddies of the streams that first accumulated them1 in the most passive whirls1 there the after ages have knit them into the most massive strength1 and there have hewn out of them those firm grey bastions of the ,cervin1--overhanging1 smooth1 flawless1 unconquerable6 ,for1 unlike the ,chamouni aiguilles1 there is no aspect of destruction about the ,matterhorn cliffs4 ,they are not torn remnants of separating spires1 yielding flake by flake1 and band by band1 to the continual process of decay4 ,they are1 on the contrary1 an unaltered monument1 seemingly sculptured long ago1 the huge walls retaining yet the forms into which they were first engraven1 and standing like an ,egyptian temple1--delicate-fronted1 softly colored1 the suns of uncounted ages rising and falling upon it continually1 but still casting the same line of shadows from east to west1 still1 century after century1 touching the same purple stains on the lotus pillars2 while the desert sand ebbs and flows about their feet1 as those autumn leaves of rock lie heaped and weak about the base of the ,cervin4 #ag4 ,is not this a strange type1 in the very heart and height of these mysterious ,alps--these wrinkled hills in their snowy1 cold1 grey-haired old age1 at first so silent1 then1 as we keep quiet at their feet1 muttering and whispering to us garrulously1 in broken and dreaming fits1 as it were1 about their childhood--is it not a strange type of the things which out of weakness are made strong8 ,if one of those little flakes of mica-sand1 hurried in tremulous spangling along the bottom of the ancient river1 too light to sink1 too faint to float1 almost too small for sight1 could have had a mind given to it as it was at last borne down with its kindred dust into the abysses of the stream1 and laid1 7would it not have thought87 for a hopeless eternity1 in the dark ooze1 the most despised1 forgotten1 and feeble of all earth's atoms2 incapable of any use or change2 not fit1 down there in the diluvial darkness1 so much as to help an earth-wasp to build its nest1 or feed the first fibre of a lichen2--what would it have thought1 had it been told that one day1 knitted into a strength as of imperishable iron1 rustless by the air1 infusible by the flame1 out of the substance of it1 with its fellows1 the axe of ,god should hew that ,alpine tower2 that against it--poor1 helpless1 mica flake6--the wild north winds should rage in vain2 beneath it--low-fallen mica flake6--the snowy hills should lie bowed like flocks of sheep1 and the kingdoms of the earth fade away in unregarded blue2 and around it--weak1 wave-drifted mica flake6--the great war of the firmament should burst in thunder1 and yet stir it not2 and the fiery arrows and angry meteors of the night fall blunted back from it into the air2 and all the stars in the clear heaven should light1 one by one as they rose1 new cressets upon the points of snow that fringed its abiding-place on the imperishable spire8 #ah4 ,i have thought it worth while1 for the sake of these lessons1 and the other interests connected with them1 to lead the reader thus far into the examination of the principal precipices among the ,alps1 although1 so far as our immediate purposes are concerned1 the inquiry cannot be very fruitful or helpful to us4 ,for rocks of this kind1 being found only in the midst of the higher snow fields1 are not only out of the general track of the landscape painter1 but are for the most part quite beyond his power--even beyond ,turner's4 ,the waves of snow1 when it becomes a principal element in mountain form1 are at once so subtle in tone1 and so complicated in curve and fold1 that no skill will express them1 so as to keep the whole luminous mass in anything like a true relation to the rock darkness4 ,for the distant rocks of the upper peaks are themselves1 when in light1 paler than white paper1 and their true size and relation to near objects cannot be exhibited unless they are painted in the palest tones4 ,yet1 as compared with their snow1 they are so dark that a daguerreotype taken for the proper number of seconds to draw the snow shadows rightly1 will always represent the rocks as coal-black4 ,in order1 therefore1 to paint a snowy mountain properly1 we should need a light as much brighter than white paper as white paper is brighter than charcoal4 ,so that although it is possible1 with deep blue sky1 and purple rocks1 and blue shadows1 to obtain a very interesting resemblance of snow effect1 and a true one up to a certain point 7as in the best examples of the body-color drawings sold so extensively in ,switzerland7 it is not possible to obtain any of those refinements of form and gradation which a great artist's eye requires4 ,turner felt that1 among these highest hills1 no serious or perfect work could be done2 and although in one or two of his vignettes 7already referred to in the first volume7 he showed his knowledge of them1 his practice1 in larger works1 was always to treat the snowy mountains merely as a far-away white cloud1 concentrating the interest of his picture on nearer and more tractable objects4 #ai4 ,one circumstance1 however1 bearing upon art1 we may note before leaving these upper precipices1 namely1 the way in which they illustrate the favorite expression of ,homer and ,dante--cut rocks4 ,however little satisfied we had reason to be with the degree of affection shown towards mountain scenery by either poet1 we may now perceive1 with some respect and surprise1 that they had got at one character which was in the essence of the noblest rocks1 just as the early illuminators got at the principles which lie at the heart of vegetation4 ,as distinguished from all other natural forms1--from fibres which are torn1 crystals which are broken1 stones which are rounded or worn1 animal and vegetable forms which are grown or moulded1--the true hard rock or precipice is notably a thing cut1 its inner grain or structure seeming to have less to do with its form than is seen in any other object or substance whatsoever2 and the aspect of subjection to some external sculpturing instrument being distinct in almost exact proportion to the size and stability of the mass4 #bj4 ,it is not so1 however1 with the next groups of mountain which we have to examine--those formed by the softer slaty coherents1 when their perishable and frail substance has been raised into cliffs in the manner illustrated by ,fig4 #ab at p4 #adf1--;cliffs whose front every frost disorganizes into filmy shale1 and of which every thunder-shower dissolves tons in the swoln blackness of torrents4 ,if this takes place from the top downwards1 the cliff is gradually effaced1 and a more or less rounded eminence is soon all that remains of it2 but if the lower beds only decompose1 or if the whole structure is strengthened here and there by courses of harder rock1 the precipice is undermined1 and remains hanging in perilous ledges and projections until1 the process having reached the limit of its strength1 vast portions of it fall at once1 leaving new fronts of equal ruggedness1 to be ruined and cast down in their turn4 ,the whole district of the northern inferior ,alps1 from the mountains of the ,rposoir to the ,gemmi1 is full of precipices of this kind2 the well known crests of the ,mont ,doron1 and of the ,aiguille de ,varens1 above ,sallenches1 being connected by the great cliffs of the valley of ,sixt1 the dark mass of the ,buet1 the ,dent du ,midi de ,bex1 and the ,diablerets1 with the great amphitheatre of rock in whose securest recess the path of the ,gemmi hides its winding4 ,but the most frightful and most characteristic cliff in the whole group is the range of the ,rochers des ,fys1 above the ,col d',anterne4 ,it happens to have a bed of harder limestone at the top than in any other part of its mass2 and this bed1 protecting its summit1 enables it to form itself into the most ghastly ranges of pinnacle which ,i know among mountains4 ,in one spot the upper edge of limestone has formed a complete cornice1 or rather bracket--for it is not extended enough to constitute a cornice1 which projects far into the air over the wall of ashy rock1 and is seen against the clouds1 when they pass into the chasm beyond1 like the nodding coping-stone of a castle--only the wall below is not less than #bejj feet in height1--not vertical1 but steep enough to seem so to the imagination4 #ba4 ,such precipices are among the most impressive as well as the most really dangerous of mountain ranges2 in many spots inaccessible with safety either from below or from above2 dark in color1 robed with everlasting mourning1 for ever tottering like a great fortress shaken by war1 fearful as much in their weakness as in their strength1 and yet gathered after every fall into darker frowns and unhumiliated threatening2 for ever incapable of comfort or of healing from herb or flower1 nourishing no root in their crevices1 touched by no hue of life on buttress or ledge1 but1 to the utmost1 desolate2 knowing no shaking of leaves in the wind1 nor of grass beside the stream1--no motion but their own mortal shivering1 the deathful crumbling of atom from atom in their corrupting stones2 knowing no sound of living voice or living tread1 cheered neither by the kid's bleat nor the marmot's cry2 haunted only by uninterrupted echoes from far off1 wandering hither and thither among their walls1 unable to escape1 and by the hiss of angry torrents1 and sometimes the shriek of a bird that flits near the face of them1 and sweeps frightened back from under their shadow into the gulf of air3 and1 sometimes1 when the echo has fainted1 and the wind has carried the sound of the torrent away1 and the bird has vanished2 and the mouldering stones are still for a little time1--a brown moth1 opening and shutting its wings upon a grain of dust1 may be the only thing that moves1 or feels1 in all the waste of weary precipice1 darkening five thousand feet of the blue depth of heaven4 #bb4 ,it will not be thought that there is nothing in a scene such as this deserving our contemplation1 or capable of conveying useful lessons1 if it were fitly rendered by art4 ,i cannot myself conceive any picture more impressive than a faithful rendering of such a cliff would be1 supposing the aim of the artist to be the utmost tone of sad sublime4 ,i am1 nevertheless1 aware of no instance in which the slightest attempt has been made to express their character2 the reason being1 partly1 the extreme difficulty of the task1 partly the want of temptation in specious color or form4 ,for the majesty of this kind of cliff depends entirely on its size3 a low range of such rock is as uninteresting as it is ugly2 and it is only by making the spectator understand the enormous scale of their desolation1 and the space which the shadow of their danger oppresses1 that any impression can be made upon his mind4 ,and this scale cannot be expressed by any artifice2 the mountain cannot be made to look large by painting it blue or faint1 otherwise it loses all its ghastliness4 ,it must be painted in its own near and solemn colors1 black and ashen grey2 and its size must be expressed by thorough drawing of its innumerable details--pure quantity1--with certain points of comparison explanatory of the whole4 ,this is no light task2 and1 attempted by any man of ordinary genius1 would need steady and careful painting for three or four months2 while1 to such a man1 there would appear to be nothing worth his toil in the gloom of the subject1 unrelieved as it is even by variety of form2 for the soft rock of which these cliffs are composed rarely breaks into bold masses2 and the gloom of their effect partly depends on its not doing so4 #bc4 ,yet1 while painters thus reject the natural1 and large sublime1 which is ready to their hand1 how strangely do they seek after a false and small sublime4 ,it is not that they reprobate gloom1 but they will only have a gloom of their own making2 just as half the world will not see the terrible and sad truths which the universe is full of1 but surrounds itself with little clouds of sulky and unnecessary fog for its own special breathing4 ,a portrait is not thought grand unless it has a thundercloud behind it 7as if a hero could not be brave in sunshine72 a ruin is not melancholy enough till it is seen by moonlight or twilight2 and every condition of theatrical pensiveness or of the theatrical terrific is exhausted in setting forth scenes or persons which in themselves are1 perhaps1 very quiet scenes and homely persons2 while that which1 without any accessories at all1 is everlastingly melancholy and terrific1 we refuse to paint1--nay1 we refuse even to observe it in its reality1 while we seek for the excitement of the very feelings it was meant to address1 in every conceivable form of our false ideal4 ,for instance3 there have been few pictures more praised for their sublimity than the ,deluge of ,nicolas ,poussin2 of which1 nevertheless1 the sublimity1 such as it is1 consists wholly in the painting of everything grey or brown1--not the grey and brown of great painters1 full of mysterious and unconfessed colors1 dim blue1 and shadowy purple1 and veiled gold1--but the stony grey and dismal brown of the conventionalist4 ,madame de ,genlis1 whose general criticisms on painting are full of good sense--singularly so1 considering the age in which she lived#he--;has the following passage on this picture3-- ',i remember to have seen the painting you mention2 but ,i own ,i found nothing in it very beautiful4' ',you have seen it rain often enough8' ',certainly4' ',have you ever at such times observed the color of the clouds attentively8--how the dusky atmosphere obscures all objects1 makes them1 if distant1 disappear1 or be seen with difficulty8 ,had you paid a proper attention to these effects of rain1 you would have been amazed by the exactitude with which they are painted by ,poussin4'#hf #bd4 ,madame de ,genlis is just in her appeal to nature1 but had not herself looked carefully enough to make her appeal accurate4 ,she had noticed one of the principal effects of rain1 but not the other4 ,it is true that the dusky atmosphere obscures all objects1 but it is also true that ,nature1 never intending the eye of man to be without delight1 has provided a rich compensation for this shading of the tints with darkness1 in their brightening by moisture4 ,every color1 wet1 is twice as brilliant as it is when dry2 and when distances are obscured by mist1 and bright colors vanish from the sky1 and gleams of sunshine from the earth1 the foreground assumes all its loveliest hues1 the grass and foliage revive into their perfect green1 and every sunburnt rock glows into an agate4 ,the colors of mountain foregrounds can never be seen in perfection unless they are wet2 nor can moisture be entirely expressed except by fulness of color4 ,so that ,poussin1 in search of a false sublimity1 painting every object in his picture1 vegetation and all1 of one dull grey and brown1 has actually rendered it impossible for an educated eye to conceive it as representing rain at all2 it is a dry1 volcanic darkness4 ,it may be said that had he painted the effect of rain truly1 the picture1 composed of the objects he has introduced1 would have become too pretty for his purpose4 ,but his error1 and the error of landscapists in general1 is in seeking to express terror by false treatment1 instead of going to ,nature herself to ask her what she has appointed to be everlastingly terrible4 ,the greatest genius would be shown by taking the scene in its plainest and most probable facts2 not seeking to change pity into fear1 by denying the beauty of the world that was passing away4 ,but if it were determined to excite fear1 and fear only1 it ought to have been done by imagining the true ghastliness of the tottering cliffs of ,ararat or ,caucasus1 as the heavy waves first smote against the promontories that until then had only known the thin fanning of the upper air of heaven2--not by painting leaves and grass slate-grey4 ,and a new world of sublimity might be opened to us1 if any painter of power and feeling would devote himself1 for a few months1 to these solemn cliffs of the dark limestone ,alps1 and would only paint one of them1 as it truly stands1 not in rain nor storm1 but in its own eternal sadness3 perhaps best on some fair summer evening1 when its fearful veil of immeasurable rock is breathed upon by warm air1 and touched with fading rays of purple2 and all that it has of the melancholy of ruin1 mingled with the might of endurance1 and the foreboding of danger1 rises in its grey gloom against the gentle sky2 the soft wreaths of the evening clouds expiring along its ridges one by one1 and leaving it1 at last1 with no light but that of its own cascades1 standing like white pillars here and there along its sides1 motionless and soundless in their distance4 #be4 ,here1 however1 we must leave these more formidable examples of the ,alpine precipice1 to examine those which1 by ,turner or by artists in general1 have been regarded as properly within the sphere of their art4 ,turner had in this respect some peculiar views induced by early association4 ,it has already been noticed1 in my pamphlet on ,pre-,raphaelitism1 that his first conceptions of mountain scenery seem to have been taken from ,yorkshire2 and its rounded hills1 far winding rivers1 and broken limestone scars1 to have formed a type in his mind to which he sought1 as far as might be1 to obtain some correspondent imagery in all other landscape4 ,hence1 he almost always preferred to have a precipice low down on the hillside1 rather than near the top2 liked an extent of rounded slope above1 and the vertical cliff to the water or valley1 better than the slope at the bottom and wall at the top 7compare ,fig4 #ac1 p4 #adh72 and had his attention early directed to those horizontal1 or comparatively horizontal1 beds of rock which usually form the faces of precipices in the ,yorkshire dales2 not1 as in the ,matterhorn1 merely indicated by veined coloring on the surface of the smooth cliff1 but projecting1 or mouldering away1 in definite successions of ledges1 cornices1 or steps4 ,illustration3 ,j4 ,ruskin4 ,j4 ,h4 ,le ,keux4 #dj4 ,the ,mountains of ,villeneuve4 #bf4 ,this decided love of the slope1 or bank above the wall1 rather than below it1 is one of ,turner's most marked idiosyncrasies1 and gives a character to his composition1 as distinguished from that of other men1 perhaps more marked than any which are traceable in other features of it 7except1 perhaps1 in his pear-shaped ideal of trees1 of which more hereafter74 ,for when mountains are striking to the general eye1 they almost always have the high crest or wall of cliff on the top of their slopes1 rising from the plain first in mounds of meadow-land1 and bosses of rock1 and studded softness of forest2 the brown cottages peeping through grove above grove1 until just where the deep shade of the pines becomes blue or purple in the haze of height1 a red wall of upper precipice rises from the pasture land1 and frets the sky with glowing serration4 ,plate #dj1 opposite1 represents a mass of mountain just above ,villeneuve1 at the head of the ,lake of ,geneva1 in which the type of the structure is shown with singular clearness4 ,much of the scenery of western ,switzerland1 and characteristically the whole of that of ,savoy1 is composed of mountains of this kind2 the isolated group between ,chambery and ,grenoble1 which holds the ,grande ,chartreuse in the heart of it1 is constructed entirely of such masses2 and the ,montagne de ,vergi1 which in like manner encloses the narrow meadows and traceried cloisters of the ,convent of the ,rposoir1 forms the most striking feature among all the mountains that border the valley of the ,arve between ,cluse and ,geneva2 while ranges of cliffs presenting precisely the same typical characters frown above the bridge and fortress of ,mont-,meillan1 and enclose1 in light blue calm1 the waters of the ,lake of ,annecy4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #hb4 #bg4 ,now1 although in many of his drawings ,turner acknowledges this structure1 it seems always to be with some degree of reluctance2 whereas he seizes with instant eagerness1 and every appearance of contentment1 on forms of mountain which are rounded into banks above1 and cut into precipices below1 as is the case in most elevated table-lands2 in the chalk coteaux of the ,seine1 the basalt borders of the ,rhine1 and the lower gorges of the ,alps2 so that while the most striking pieces of natural mountain scenery usually rise from the plain under some such outline as that at a1 ,fig4 #hb1 ,turner always formed his composition1 if possible1 on such an arrangement as that at b4 ,one reason for this is clearly the greater simplicity of the line4 ,the simpler a line is1 so that it be cunningly varied within its simplicities1 the grander it is2 and ,turner likes to enclose all his broken crags by such a line as that at b1 just as we saw the classical composer1 in our first plate1 enclose the griffin's beak with breadth of wing4 ,nevertheless1 ,i cannot but attribute his somewhat wilful and marked rejection of what sublimity there is in the other form1 to the influence of early affections2 and sincerely regret that the fascination exercised over him by memory should have led him to pass so much of his life in putting a sublimity not properly belonging to them into the coteaux of ,clairmont and ,meauves1 and the vine terraces of ,bingen and ,oberwesel2 leaving almost unrecorded the natural sublimity1 which he could never have exaggerated1 of the pine-fringed mountains of the ,iscre1 and the cloudy diadem of the ,mont ,vergi4 #bh4 ,in all cases of this kind1 it is difficult to say how far harm and how far good have resulted from what unquestionably has in it something of both4 ,it is to be regretted that ,turner's studies should have been warped1 by early affection1 from the ,alps to the ,rhine2 but the fact of his feeling this early affection1 and being thus strongly influenced by it through his life1 is indicative of that sensibility which was at the root of all his greatness4 ,other artists are led away by foreign sublimities and distant interests2 delighting always in that which is most markedly strange1 and quaintly contrary to the scenery of their homes4 ,but ,turner evidently felt that the claims upon his regard possessed by those places which first had opened to him the joy1 and the labor1 of his life1 could never be superseded2 no ,alpine cloud could efface1 no ,italian sunbeam outshine1 the memory of the pleasant dales and days of ,rokeby and ,bolton2 and many a simple promontory1 dim with southern olive1--many a low cliff that stooped unnoticed over some alien wave1 was recorded by him with a love1 and delicate care1 that were the shadows of old thoughts and long-lost delights1 whose charm yet hung like morning mist above the chanting waves of ,wharfe and ,greta4 #bi4 ,the first instance1 therefore1 of ,turner's mountain drawing which ,i endeavored to give accurately1 in this book1 was from those shores of ,wharfe which1 ,i believe1 he never could revisit without tears2 nay1 which for all the latter part of his life1 he never could even speak of1 but his voice faltered4 ,we will now examine this instance with greater care4 ,it is first to be remembered that in every one of his ,english or ,french drawings1 ,turner's mind was1 in two great instincts1 at variance with itself4 ,the affections of it clung1 as we have just seen1 to humble scenery1 and gentle wildness of pastoral life4 ,but the admiration of it was1 more than any other artist's whatsoever1 fastened on largeness of scale4 ,with all his heart1 he was attached to the narrow meadows and rounded knolls of ,england2 by all his imagination he was urged to the reverence of endless vales and measureless hills2 nor could any scene be too contracted for his love1 or too vast for his ambition4 ,hence1 when he returned to ,english scenery after his first studies in ,savoy and ,dauphin1 he was continually endeavoring to reconcile old fondnesses with new sublimities2 and1 as in ,switzerland he chose rounded ,alps for the love of ,yorkshire1 so in ,yorkshire he exaggerated scale1 in memory of ,switzerland1 and gave to ,ingleborough1 seen from ,hornby ,castle1 in great part the expression of cloudy majesty and height which he had seen in the ,alps from ,grenoble4 ,we must continually remember these two opposite instincts as we examine the ,turnerian topography of his subject of ,bolton ,abbey4 #cj4 ,the ,abbey is placed1 as most lovers of our ,english scenery know well1 on a little promontory of level park land1 enclosed by one of the sweeps of the ,wharfe4 ,on the other side of the river1 the flank of the dale rises in a pretty wooded brow1 which the river1 leaning against1 has cut into two or three somewhat bold masses of rock1 steep to the water's edge1 but feathered above with copse of ash and oak4 ,above these rocks1 the hills are rounded softly upwards to the moorland2 the entire height of the brow towards the river being perhaps two hundred feet1 and the rocky parts of it not above forty or fifty1 so that the general impression upon the eye is that the hill is little more than twice the height of the ruins1 or of the groups of noble ash trees which encircle them4 ,one of these groups is conspicuous above the rest1 growing on the very shore of the tongue of land which projects into the river1 whose clear brown water1 stealing first in mere threads between the separate pebbles of shingle1 and eddying in soft golden lines towards its central currents1 flows out of amber into ebony1 and glides calm and deep below the rock on the opposite shore4 #ca4 ,except in this stony bed of the stream1 the scene possesses very little more aspect of mountain character than belongs to some of the park and meadow land under the chalk hills near ,henley and ,maidenhead2 and if it were faithfully drawn in all points1 and on its true scale1 would hardly more affect the imagination of the spectator1 unless he traced1 with such care as is never from any spectator to be hoped1 the evidence of nobler character in the pebbled shore and unconspicuous rock4 ,but the scene in reality does affect the imagination strongly1 and in a way wholly different from lowland hill scenery4 ,a little farther up the valley the limestone summits rise1 and that steeply1 to a height of twelve hundred feet above the river1 which foams between them in the narrow and dangerous channel of the ,strid4 ,noble moorlands extend above1 purple with heath1 and broken into scars and glens1 and around every soft tuft of wood1 and gentle extent of meadow1 throughout the dale1 there floats a feeling of this mountain power1 and an instinctive apprehension of the strength and greatness of the wild northern land4 #cb4 ,it is to the association of this power and border sternness with the sweet peace and tender decay of ,bolton ,priory1 that the scene owes its distinctive charm4 ,the feelings excited by both characters are definitely connected by the melancholy tradition of the circumstances to which the ,abbey owes its origin2 and yet farther darkened by the nearer memory of the death1 in the same spot which betrayed the boy of ,egremont1 of another1 as young1 as thoughtless1 and as beloved4 ,the stately priory was reared1 ,and ,wharfe1 as he moved along1 ,to matins joined a mournful voice1 ,nor failed at evensong4 ,all this association of various awe1 and noble mingling of mountain strength with religious fear1 ,turner had to suggest1 or he would not have drawn ,bolton ,abbey4 ,he goes down to the shingly shore2 for the ,abbey is but the child of the ,wharfe2--it is the river1 the great cause of the ,abbey1 which shall be his main subject2 only the extremity of the ruin itself is seen between the stems of the ash tree2 but the waves of the ,wharfe are studied with a care which renders this drawing unique among ,turner's works1 for its expression of the eddies of a slow mountain stream1 and of their pausing in treacherous depth beneath the hollowed rocks4 ,illustration3 #ab4 ,the ,shores of ,wharfe4 ,on the opposite shore is a singular jutting angle of the shales1 forming the principal feature of the low cliffs at the water's edge4 ,turner fastens on it as the only available mass2 draws it with notable care1 and then magnifies it1 by diminishing the trees on its top to one fifth of their real size1 so that what would else have been little more than a stony bank becomes a true precipice1 on a scale completely suggestive of the heights behind4 ,the hill beyond is in like manner lifted into a more rounded1 but still precipitous1 eminence1 reaching the utmost admissible elevation of ten or twelve hundred feet 7measurable by the trees upon it74 ,i have engraved this entire portion of the drawing of the real size1 on the opposite page2 the engraving of the whole drawing1 published in the ,england ,series1 is also easily accessible4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #hc4 #cc4 ,not knowing accurately to what group of the ,yorkshire limestones the rocks opposite the ,abbey belonged1 or their relation to the sandstones at the ,strid1 ,i wrote to ask my kind friend ,professor ,phillips1 who instantly sent me a little geological sketch of the position of these ,yoredale ,shales1 adding this interesting note3 ,the black shales opposite the ,abbey are curiously tinted at the surface1 and are contorted4 ,most artists give them the appearance of solid massive rocks2 nor is this altogether wrong1 especially when the natural joints of the shale appear prominent after particular accidents2 they should1 however1 never be made to resemble i4e4 in solidity limestone or gritstone4 ,now the ,yoredale shales are members of the group of rocks which ,i have called slaty coherents1 and correspond very closely to those portions of the ,alpine slates described in ,chap4 ,x4 #d2 their main character is continual separation into fine flakes1 more or less of ,dante's iron-colored grain2 which1 however1 on a large scale1 form those somewhat solid-looking masses to which ,mr4 ,phillips alludes in his letter1 and which he describes1 in his recently published ,geology1 in the following general terms3 ,the shales of this tract are usually dark1 close1 and fissile1 and traversed by extremely long straight joints1 dividing the rock into rhomboidal prisms 7i4e4 prisms of the shape c1 ,fig4 #hc1 in the section74 #cd4 ,turner had1 therefore1 these four things to show3--#a4 ,flaky division horizontally2 #b4 ,division by rhomboidal joints2 #c4 ,massy appearance occasionally1 somewhat concealing the structure2 #d4 ,local contortion of the beds4 7,see passage quoted of ,mr4 ,phillips's letter74 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #hd4 ,examine1 then1 the plate just given 7#ab ,a74 ,the cleavage of the shales runs diagonally up from left to right2 note especially how delicately it runs up through the foreground rock1 and is insisted upon1 just at the brow of it1 in the angular step-like fragments2 compare also the etching in the first volume4 ,then note the upright pillars in the distance1 marked especially as rhomboidal by being drawn with the cleavage still sloping up on the returning side1 as at a1 ,fig4 #hc1 not as at b1 which would be their aspect if they were square2 and then the indication of interruption in the structure at the brow of the main cliff1 where1 as well as on the nearer mass1 exposure to the weather has rounded away the cleavages4 ,this projection1 as before mentioned1 does exist at the spot2 and ,i believe is partly an indication of the contortion in the beds alluded to by ,mr4 ,phillips2 but no one but ,turner would have fastened on it1 as in anywise deserving special attention4 ,for the rest1 no words are of any use to explain the subtle fidelity with which the minor roundings and cleavages have been expressed by him4 ,fidelity of this kind can only be estimated by workers3 if the reader can himself draw a bit of natural precipice in ,yoredale shale1 and then copy a bit of the etching1 he will find some measure of the difference between ,turner's work and other people's1 and not otherwise2 although1 without any such labor1 he may at once perceive that there is a difference1 and a wide one1--so wide1 that ,i have literally nothing to compare the ,turnerian work with in previous art4 ,here1 however1 ,fig4 #hd1 is a rock of ,claude's 7,liber ,veritatis1 ,no4 #ia1 on the left hand71 which is something of the shape of ,turner's1 and professes to be crested in like manner with copse-wood4 ,the reader may compare as much as he likes1 or can1 of it4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #he4 #ce4 ,in fact1 as ,i said some time ago1 the whole landscape of ,claude was nothing but a more or less softened continuance of the old traditions of missal-painting1 of which ,i gave examples in the previous volume4 ,the general notion of rock which may be traced in the earliest work1 as ,figs4 #a and #b in ,plate #aj ,vol4 ,,iii4 is of an upright mass cut out with an adze2 as art advances1 the painters begin to perceive horizontal stratification1 and1 as in all the four other examples of that plate1 show something like true rendering of the fracture of rocks in vertical joints with superimposed projecting masses4 ,they insist on this type1 thinking it frowning or picturesque1 and usually exhibit it to more advantage by putting a convent1 hermitage1 or castle on the projection of the crag4 ,in the blue backgrounds of the missals the projection is often wildly extravagant2 for instance1 the ,,ms4 ,additional1 #aa1fif ,brit4 ,mus41 has all its backgrounds composed of blue rocks with towers upon them1 of which ,fig4 #he is a characteristic example 7magnified in scale about one-third2 but1 ,i think1 rather diminished in extravagance of projection74 ,it is infinitely better drawn than ,claude's rocks ever are1 in the expression of cleavage2 but certainly somewhat too bold in standing4 ,then1 in more elaborate work1 we get conditions of precipice like ,fig4 #c in ,plate #aj1 which1 indeed1 is not ill-drawn in many respects2 and the book from which it is taken shows other evidences of a love of nature sufficiently rare at the period1 though joined quaintly with love of the grotesque3 for instance1 the writer1 giving an account of the natural productions of ,saxony1 illustrates his chapter with a view of the salt mines2 he represents the brine-spring1 conducted by a wooden trough from the rock into an evaporating-house where it is received in a pan1 under which he has painted scarlet flames of fire with singular skill2 and the rock out of which the brine flows is in its general cleavages the best ,i ever saw drawn by medival art4 ,but it is carefully wrought to the resemblance of a grotesque human head4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #hf4 #cf4 ,this bolder quaintness of the missals is very slightly modified in religious paintings of the period4 ,fig4 #hf1 by ,cima da ,conegliano1 a ,venetian1 ,no4 #agc in the ,louvre1 compared with ,fig4 #c of ,plate #aj 7,flemish71 will show the kind of received tradition about rocks current throughout ,europe4 ,claude takes up this tradition1 and1 merely making the rocks a little clumsier1 and more weedy1 produces such conditions as ,fig4 #hg 7,liber ,veritatis1 ,no4 #ia1 with ,fig4 #hd above72 while the orthodox door or archway at the bottom is developed into the ,homeric cave1 shaded with laurels1 and some ships are put underneath it1 or seen through it1 at impossible anchorages4 ,illustration3 ,j4 ,ruskin4 ,j4 ,h4 ,le ,keux #da4 ,the ,rocks of ,arona4 #cg4 ,fig4 #hg is generally characteristic1 not only of ,claude1 but of the other painters of the ,renaissance period1 because they were all equally fond of representing this overhanging of rocks with buildings on the top1 and weeds drooping into the air over the edge1 always thinking to get sublimity by exaggerating the projection1 and never able to feel or understand the simplicity of real rock lines2 not that they were in want of examples around them3 on the contrary1 though the main idea was traditional1 the modifications of it are always traceable to the lower masses of limestone and tufa which skirt the ,alps and ,apennines1 and which have1 in reality1 long contracted habits of nodding over their bases2 being1 both by ,virgil and ,homer1 spoken of always as hanging or over-roofed rocks4 ,but then they have a way of doing it rather different from the ,renaissance ideas of them4 ,here1 for instance 7,plate #da71 is a real hanging rock1 with a castle on the top of it1 and 7,greek3 katrephs7 laurel1 all plain fact1 from ,arona1 on the ,lago ,maggiore2 and1 ,i believe1 the reader1 though we have not as yet said anything about lines1 will at once1 on comparing it with ,fig4 #hg1 recognize the difference between the true parabolic flow of the rock-lines and the humpbacked deformity of ,claude2 and1 still more1 the difference between the delicate overhanging of the natural cliff1 cautiously diminished as it gets higher#hg1 and the ideal danger of the ,liber ,veritatis4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #hg4 #ch4 ,and the fact is1 generally1 that natural cliffs are very cautious how they overhang1 and that the artist who represents them as doing so in any extravagant degree entirely destroys the sublimity which he hoped to increase1 for the simple reason that he takes away the whole rock-nature1 or at least that part of it which depends upon weight4 ,the instinct of the observer refuses to believe that the rock is ponderous when it overhangs so far1 and it has no more real effect upon him than the imagined rocks of a fairy tale4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #hh4 ,though1 therefore1 the subject sketched on this page is sufficiently trifling in itself1 it is important as a perfect general type of the overhanging of that kind of precipices1 and of the mode in which they are connected with the banks above4 ,fig4 #hh shows its abstract leading lines1 consisting of one great parabolic line x y falling to the brow1 curved aqueous lines down the precipice face1 and the springing lines of its vegetation1 opposed by contrary curves on the farther cliff4 ,such an arrangement1 with or without vegetation1 may take place on a small or large scale2 but a bolder projection than this1 except by rare accident1 and on a small scale1 cannot4 ,if the reader will glance back to ,plate #cg1 and observe the arrangement of the precipices on the right hand1 he will now better understand what ,turner means by them4 ,but the whole question of the beauty of this form1 or mode of its development1 rests on the nature of the bank above the cliffs1 and of the aqueous forces that carved it2 and this discussion of the nature of banks1 as it will take some time1 had better be referred to next chapter4 ,one or two more points are1 however1 to be stated here4 #ci4 ,for the reader has probably been already considering how it is that these overhanging cliffs are formed at all1 and why they appear thus to be consumed away at the bottom4 ,sometimes if of soft material they actually are so consumed by the quicker trickling of streamlets at the base than at the summit1 or by the general action of damp in decomposing the rock4 ,but in the noblest instances1 such cliffs are constructed as at c in ,fig4 #gc1 above1 and the inward retirement of the precipice is the result of their tendency to break at right angles to the beds1 modified according to the power of the rock to support itself1 and the aqueous action from above or below4 ,i have before alluded 7in p4 #aeg7 to this somewhat perilous arrangement permitted in the secondary strata4 ,the danger1 be it observed1 is not of the fall of the brow of the precipice1 which never takes place on a large scale in rocks of this kind 7compare #c of this chapter71 but of the sliding of one bed completely away from another1 and the whole mass coming down together4 ,but even this1 though it has several times occurred in ,switzerland1 is not a whit more likely to happen when the precipice is terrific than when it is insignificant4 ,the danger results from the imperfect adhesion of the mountain beds2 not at all from the external form of them4 ,a cliff1 which is in aspect absolutely awful1 may hardly1 in the part of it that overhangs1 add one thousandth part to the gravitating power of the entire mass of the rocks above2 and1 for the comfort of nervous travellers1 they may be assured that they are often in more danger under the gentle slopes of a pleasantly wooded hill1 than under the most terrific cliffs of the ,eiger or ,jungfrau4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #hi4 #dj4 ,the most interesting examples of these cliffs are usually to be seen impendent above strong torrents1 which1 if forced originally to run in a valley1 such as a in ,fig4 #hi1 bearing the relation there shown to the inclination of beds on each side1 will not1 if the cleavage is across the beds1 cut their channel straight down1 but in an inclined direction1 correspondent to the cleavage1 as at b4 ,if the operation be carried far1 so as to undermine one side of the ravine too seriously1 the undermined masses fall1 partially choke the torrent1 and give it a new direction of force1 or diminish its sawing power by breaking it among the fallen masses1 so that the cliff never becomes very high in such an impendent form2 but the trench is hewn downwards in a direction irregularly vertical4 ,among the limestones on the north side of the ,valles1 they being just soft enough to yield easily to the water1 and yet so hard as to maintain themselves in massy precipices1 when once hewn to the shape1 there are defiles of whose depth and proportions ,i am almost afraid to state what ,i believe to be the measurements1 so much do they differ from any which ,i have seen assigned by scientific men as the limits of precipitous formation4 ,i can only say that my deliberate impression of the great ravine cut by the torrent which descends from the ,aletsch glacier1 about half way between the glacier and ,brieg1 was1 that its depth is between a thousand and fifteen hundred feet1 by a breadth of between forty and a hundred4 ,but ,i could not get to the edge of its cliffs1 for the tops rounded away into the chasm1 and1 of course1 all actual measurement was impossible4 ,there are other similar clefts between the ,bietschhorn and the ,gemmi2 and the one before spoken of at ,ardon1 about five miles below ,sion1 though quite unimportant in comparison1 presents some boldly overhanging precipices easily observed by the passing traveller1 as they are close to the road4 ,the glen through which the torrent of the ,trient descends into the valley of the ,rhone1 near ,martigny1 though not above three or four hundred feet deep1 is also notable for its narrowness1 and for the magnificent hardness of the rock through which it is cut1--a gneiss twisted with quartz into undulations like those of a ,damascus sabre1 and as compact as its steel4 #da4 ,it is not possible to get the complete expression of these ravines1 any more than of the apse of a ,gothic cathedral1 into a picture1 as their elevation cannot be drawn on a vertical plane in front of the eye1 the head needing to be thrown back1 in order to measure their height1 or stooped to penetrate their depth4 ,but the structure and expression of the entrance to one of them have been made by ,turner the theme of his sublime mountain-study 7,mill near the ,grande ,chartreuse7 in the ,liber ,studiorum2 nor does he seem ever to have been weary of recurring for various precipice-subject1 to the ravines of the ,via ,mala and ,st4 ,gothard4 ,i will not injure any of these--his noblest works--by giving imperfect copies of them2 the reader has now data enough whereby to judge1 when he meets with them1 whether they are well done or ill2 and1 indeed1 all that ,i am endeavoring to do here1 as often aforesaid1 is only to get some laws of the simplest kind understood and accepted1 so as to enable people who care at all for justice to make a stand at once beside the modern mountain-drawing1 as distinguished from ,salvator's1 or ,claude's1 or any other spurious work4 ,take1 for instance1 such a law as this of the general oblique inclination of a torrent's sides1 ,fig4 #hi1 and compare the ,turnerian gorge in the distance of ,plate #ba here1 or of the ,grande ,chartreuse subject in the ,liber ,studiorum1 and consider whether anywhere else in art you can find similar expressions of the law4 ,well2 but you have come to no conclusions in this chapter respecting the ,beauty of ,precipices2 and that was your professed business with them4 ,i am not sure that the idea of beauty was meant in general to be very strictly connected with such mountain forms3 one does not1 instinctively1 speak or think of a ,beautiful ,precipice4 ,they have1 however1 their beauty1 and it is infinite2 yet so dependent on help or change from other things1 on the way the pines crest them1 or the waterfalls color them1 or the clouds isolate them1 that ,i do not choose to dwell here on any of their perfect aspects1 as they cannot be reasoned of by anticipating inquiries into other materials of landscape4 ,thus1 ,i have much to say of the cliffs of ,grindelwald and the ,chartreuse1 but all so dependent upon certain facts belonging to pine vegetation1 that ,i am compelled to defer it to the next volume2 nor do ,i much regret this2 because it seems to me that1 without any setting forth1 or rather beyond all setting forth1 the ,alpine precipices have a fascination about them which is sufficiently felt by the spectator in general1 and even by the artist2 only they have not been properly drawn1 because people do not usually attribute the magnificence of their effect to the trifling details which really are its elements2 and1 therefore1 in common drawings of ,swiss scenery we see all kinds of efforts at sublimity by exaggeration of the projection of the mass1 or by obscurity1 or blueness or aerial tint1--by everything1 in fact1 except the one needful thing1--plain drawing of the rock4 ,therefore in this chapter ,i have endeavored to direct the reader to a severe mathematical estimate of precipice outline1 and to make him dwell1 not on the immediately pathetic or impressive aspect of cliffs1 which all men feel readily enough1 but on their internal structure4 ,for he may rest assured that1 as the ,matterhorn is built of mica flakes1 so every great pictorial impression in scenery of this kind is to be reached by little and little2 the cliff must be built in the picture as it was probably in reality--inch by inch2 and the work will1 in the end1 have most power which was begun with most patience4 ,no man is fit to paint ,swiss scenery until he can place himself front to front with one of those mighty crags1 in broad daylight1 with no effect to aid him1 and work it out1 boss by boss1 only with such conventionality as its infinitude renders unavoidable4 ,we have seen that a literal facsimile is impossible1 just as a literal facsimile of the carving of an entire cathedral front is impossible4 ,but it is as vain to endeavor to give any conception of an ,alpine cliff without minuteness of detail1 and by mere breadth of effect1 as it would be to give a conception of the faades of ,rouen or ,rheims1 without indicating any statues or foliation4 ,when the statues and foliation are once got1 as much blue mist and thundercloud as you choose1 but not before4 #dc4 ,i commend1 therefore1 in conclusion1 the precipice to the artist's patience2 to which there is this farther and final encouragement1 that1 though one of the most difficult of subjects1 it is one of the kindest of sitters4 ,a group of trees changes the color of its leafage from week to week1 and its position from day to day2 it is sometimes languid with heat1 and sometimes heavy with rain2 the torrent swells or falls in shower or sun2 the best leaves of the foreground may be dined upon by cattle1 or trampled by unwelcome investigators of the chosen scene4 ,but the cliff can neither be eaten nor trampled down2 neither bowed by the shower nor withered by the heat3 it is always ready for us when we are inclined to labor2 will always wait for us when we would rest2 and1 what is best of all1 will always talk to us when we are inclined to converse4 ,with its own patient and victorious presence1 cleaving daily through cloud after cloud1 and reappearing still through the tempest drift1 lofty and serene amidst the passing rents of blue1 it seems partly to rebuke1 and partly to guard1 and partly to calm and chasten1 the agitations of the feeble human soul that watches it2 and that must be indeed a dark perplexity1 or a grievous pain1 which will not be in some degree enlightened or relieved by the vision of it1 when the evening shadows are blue on its foundation1 and the last rays of the sunset resting in the fair height of its golden ,fortitude4 ,,footnotes #hj ,distinguished from a crest by being the face of a large contiguous bed of rock1 not the end of a ridge4 #ha ,the contour of the whole cliff1 seen from near its foot as it rises above the shoulder of the ,breven1 is as at ,fig4 #gf opposite4 ,the part measured is a d2 but the precipice recedes to the summit b1 on which a human figure is discernible to the naked eye merely as a point4 ,the bank from which the cliff rises1 c1 recedes as it falls to the left2 so that five hundred feet may perhaps be an under-estimate of the height below the summit4 ,the straight sloping lines are cleavages1 across the beds4 ,finally1 ,fig4 #d1 ,plate #be1 gives the look of the whole summit as seen from the village of ,chamouni beneath it1 at a distance of about two miles1 and some four or five thousand feet above the spectator4 ,it appears1 then1 like a not very formidable projection of crag overhanging the great slopes of the mountain's foundation4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #gf4 #hb ,at an angle of #gi with the horizon4 ,see the ,table of angles1 p4 #aha4 ,the line a e in ,fig4 #cc1 is too steep1 as well as in the plate here2 but the other slopes are approximately accurate4 ,i would have made them quite so1 but did not like to alter the sketch made on the spot4 #hc ,professor ,forbes gives the bearing of the ,cervin from the top of the ,riffelhorn as #cea1 or ,n4 #i ,w41 supposing local attraction to have caused an error of #fe to the northward1 which would make the true bearing ,n4 #gd ,w4 ,from the point just under the ,riffelhorn summit1 e1 in ,fig4 #gh1 at which my drawing was made1 ,i found the ,cervin bear ,n4 #gi ,w4 without any allowance for attraction2 the disturbing influence would seem therefore confined1 or nearly so1 to the summit a4 ,i did not know at the time that there was any such influence traceable1 and took no bearing from the summit4 ,for the rest1 ,i cannot vouch for bearings as ,i can for angles1 as their accuracy was of no importance to my work1 and ,i merely noted them with a common pocket compass and in the sailor's way 7,s4 by ,w4 and ,w4 ,c471 which involves the probability of error of from two to three degrees on either side of the true bearing4 ,the other drawing in ,plate #ch was made from a point only a degree or two to the westward of the village of ,zermatt4 ,i have no note of the bearing2 but it must be about ,s4 #fj or #fe ,w4 #hd ,independent travellers may perhaps be glad to know the way to the top of the ,riffelhorn4 ,i believe there is only one path2 which ascends 7from the ridge of the ,riffel7 on its eastern slope1 until1 near the summit1 the low but perfectly smooth cliff1 extending from side to side of the ridge1 seems1 as on the western slope1 to bar all farther advance4 ,this cliff may1 however1 by a good climber1 be mastered even at the southern extremity2 but it is dangerous there3 at the opposite or northern side of it1 just at its base1 is a little cornice1 about a foot broad1 which does not look promising at first1 but widens presently2 and when once it is past1 there is no more difficulty in reaching the summit4 #he ,i ought before to have mentioned ,madame de ,genlis as one of the few writers whose influence was always exerted to restore to truthful feelings1 and persuade to simple enjoyments and pursuits1 the persons accessible to reason in the frivolous world of her times4 #hf ,veilles du ,chteau1 vol4 ii4 #hg ,the actual extent of the projection remaining the same throughout1 the angle of suspended slope1 for that reason1 diminishes as the cliff increases in height4 ,,chapter ,,xvii4 ,,resulting ,,forms3--,,fourthly1 ,,banks4 #a4 ,during all our past investigations of hill form1 we have been obliged to refer continually to certain results produced by the action of descending streams or falling stones4 ,the actual contours assumed by any mountain range towards its foot depend usually more upon this torrent sculpture than on the original conformation of the masses2 the existing hill side is commonly an accumulation of dbris2 the existing glen commonly an excavated watercourse2 and it is only here and there that portions of rock1 retaining impress of their original form1 jut from the bank1 or shelve across the stream4 #b4 ,now this sculpture by streams1 or by gradual weathering1 is the finishing work by which ,nature brings her mountain forms into the state in which she intends us generally to observe and love them4 ,the violent convulsion or disruption by which she first raises and separates the masses may frequently be intended to produce impressions of terror rather than of beauty2 but the laws which are in constant operation on all noble and enduring scenery must assuredly be intended to produce results grateful to men4 ,therefore1 as in this final pencilling of ,nature's we shall probably find her ideas of mountain beauty most definitely expressed1 it may be well that1 before entering on this part of our subject1 we should recapitulate the laws respecting beauty of form which we arrived at in the abstract4 #c4 ,glancing back to the fourteenth and fifteenth paragraphs of the chapter on ,infinity1 in the second volume1 and to the third and tenth of the chapters on ,unity1 the reader will find that abstract beauty of form is supposed to depend on continually varied curvatures of line and surface1 associated so as to produce an effect of some unity among themselves1 and opposed1 in order to give them value1 by more or less straight or rugged lines4 ,the reader will1 perhaps1 here ask why1 if both the straight and curved lines are necessary1 one should be considered more beautiful than the other4 ,exactly as we consider light beautiful and darkness ugly1 in the abstract1 though both are essential to all beauty4 ,darkness mingled with color gives the delight of its depth or power2 even pure blackness1 in spots or chequered patterns1 is often exquisitely delightful2 and yet we do not therefore consider1 in the abstract1 blackness to be beautiful4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ij4 ,just in the same way straightness mingled with curvature1 that is to say1 the close approximation of part of any curve to a straight line1 gives to such curve all its spring1 power1 and nobleness3 and even perfect straightness1 limiting curves1 or opposing them1 is often pleasurable3 yet1 in the abstract1 straightness is always ugly1 and curvature always beautiful4 ,thus1 in the figure at the side1 the eye will instantly prefer the semicircle to the straight line2 the trefoil 7composed of three semicircles7 to the triangle2 and the cinqfoil to the pentagon4 ,the mathematician may perhaps feel an opposite preference2 but he must be conscious that he does so under the influence of feelings quite different from those with which he would admire 7if he ever does admire7 a picture or statue2 and that if he could free himself from those associations1 his judgment of the relative agreeableness of the forms would be altered4 ,he may rest assured that1 by the natural instinct of the eye and thought1 the preference is given instantly1 and always1 to the curved form2 and that no human being of unprejudiced perceptions would desire to substitute triangles for the ordinary shapes of clover leaves1 or pentagons for those of potentillas4 #d4 ,all curvature1 however1 is not equally agreeable2 but the examination of the laws which render one curve more beautiful than another1 would1 if carried out to any completeness1 alone require a volume4 ,the following few examples will be enough to put the reader in the way of pursuing the subject for himself4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ia4 ,take any number of lines1 a b1 b c1 c d1 c41 ,fig4 #ia1 bearing any fixed proportion to each other4 ,in this figure1 b c is one third longer than a b1 and c d than b c2 and so on4 ,arrange them in succession1 keeping the inclination1 or angle1 which each makes with the preceding one always the same4 ,then a curve drawn through the extremities of the lines will be a beautiful curve2 for it is governed by consistent laws2 every part of it is connected by those laws with every other1 yet every part is different from every other2 and the mode of its construction implies the possibility of its continuance to infinity2 it would never return upon itself though prolonged for ever4 ,these characters must be possessed by every perfectly beautiful curve4 ,if we make the difference between the component or measuring lines less1 as in ,fig4 #ib1 in which each line is longer than the preceding one only by a fifth1 the curve will be more contracted and less beautiful4 ,if we enlarge the difference1 as in ,fig4 #ic1 in which each line is double the preceding one1 the curve will suggest a more rapid proceeding into infinite space1 and will be more beautiful4 ,of two curves1 the same in other respects1 that which suggests the quickest attainment of infinity is always the most beautiful4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ib4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ic4 #e4 ,these three curves being all governed by the same general law1 with a difference only in dimensions of lines1 together with all the other curves so constructible1 varied as they may be infinitely1 either by changing the lengths of line1 or the inclination of the lines to each other1 are considered by mathematicians only as one curve1 having this peculiar character about it1 different from that of most other infinite lines1 that any portion of it is a magnified repetition of the preceding portion2 that is to say1 the portion between e and g is precisely what that between c and e would look1 if seen through a lens which magnified somewhat more than twice4 ,there is therefore a peculiar equanimity and harmony about the look of lines of this kind1 differing1 ,i think1 from the expression of any others except the circle4 ,beyond the point a the curve may be imagined to continue to an infinite degree of smallness1 always circling nearer and nearer to a point1 which1 however1 it can never reach4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #id4 #f4 ,again3 if1 along the horizontal line1 ,a ,b1 ,fig4 #id1 we measure any number of equal distances1 ,a b1 b c1 c41 and raise perpendiculars from the points b1 c1 d1 c41 of which each perpendicular shall be longer1 by some given proportion 7in this figure it is one third71 than the preceding one1 the curve x y1 traced through their extremities1 will continually change its direction1 but will advance into space in the direction of y as long as we continue to measure distances along the line ,a ,b1 always inclining more and more to the nature of a straight line1 yet never becoming one1 even if continued to infinity4 ,it would1 in like manner1 continue to infinity in the direction of x1 always approaching the line ,a ,b1 yet never touching it4 #g4 ,an infinite number of different lines1 more or less violent in curvature according to the measurements we adopt in designing them1 are included1 or defined1 by each of the laws just explained4 ,but the number of these laws themselves is also infinite4 ,there is no limit to the multitude of conditions which may be invented1 each producing a group of curves of a certain common nature4 ,some of these laws1 indeed1 produce single curves1 which1 like the circle1 can vary only in size2 but1 for the most part1 they vary also1 like the lines we have just traced1 in the rapidity of their curvature4 ,among these innumerable lines1 however1 there is one source of difference in character which divides them1 infinite as they are in number1 into two great classes4 ,the first class consists of those which are limited in their course1 either ending abruptly1 or returning to some point from which they set out2 the second class1 of those lines whose nature is to proceed for ever into space4 ,any portion of a circle1 for instance1 is1 by the law of its being1 compelled1 if it continue its course1 to return to the point from which it set out2 so also any portion of the oval curve 7called an ellipse71 produced by cutting a cylinder obliquely across4 ,and if a single point be marked on the rim of a carriage wheel1 this point1 as the wheel rolls along the road1 will trace a curve in the air from one part of the road to another1 which is called a cycloid1 and to which the law of its existence appoints that it shall always follow a similar course1 and be terminated by the level line on which the wheel rolls4 ,all such curves are of inferior beauty3 and the curves which are incapable of being completely drawn1 because1 as in the two cases above given1 the law of their being supposes them to proceed for ever into space1 are of a higher beauty4 #h4 ,thus1 in the very first elements of form1 a lesson is given us as to the true source of the nobleness and chooseableness of all things4 ,the two classes of curves thus sternly separated from each other1 may most properly be distinguished as the ,mortal and ,immortal ,curves2 the one having an appointed term of existence1 the other absolutely incomprehensible and endless1 only to be seen or grasped during a certain moment of their course4 ,and it is found universally that the class to which the human mind is attached for its chief enjoyment are the ,endless or ,immortal lines4 #i4 ,nay1 but the reader answers1 what right have you to say that one class is more beautiful than the other8 ,suppose ,i like the finite curves best1 who shall say which of us is right8 ,no one4 ,it is simply a question of experience4 ,you will not1 ,i think1 continue to like the finite curves best as you contemplate them carefully1 and compare them with the others4 ,and if you should do so1 it then yet becomes a question to be decided by longer trial1 or more widely canvassed opinion4 ,and when we find on examination that every form which1 by the consent of human kind1 has been received as lovely1 in vases1 flowing ornaments1 embroideries1 and all other things dependent on abstract line1 is composed of these infinite curves1 and that ,nature uses them for every important contour1 small or large1 which she desires to recommend to human observance1 we shall not1 ,i think1 doubt that the preference of such lines is a sign of healthy taste1 and true instinct4 #aj4 ,i am not sure1 however1 how far the delightfulness of such line1 is owing1 not merely to their expression of infinity1 but also to that of restraint or moderation4 ,compare ,stones of ,venice1 vol4 iii4 chap4 i4 #i1 where the subject is entered into at some length4 ,certainly the beauty of such curvature is owing1 in a considerable degree1 to both expressions2 but when the line is sharply terminated1 perhaps more to that of moderation than of infinity4 ,for the most part1 gentle or subdued sounds1 and gentle or subdued colors1 are more pleasing than either in their utmost force2 nevertheless1 in all the noblest compositions1 this utmost power is permitted1 but only for a short time1 or over a small space4 ,music must rise to its utmost loudness1 and fall from it2 color must be gradated to its extreme brightness1 and descend from it2 and ,i believe that absolutely perfect treatment would1 in either case1 permit the intensest sound and purest color only for a point or for a moment4 ,illustration3 #db4 ,leaf ,curvature4 ,magnolia and ,laburnum4 ,illustration3 #dc4 ,leaf ,curvature4 ,dead ,laurel4 ,illustration3 #dd4 ,leaf ,curvature4 ,young ,ivy4 ,curvature is regulated by precisely the same laws4 ,for the most part1 delicate or slight curvature is more agreeable than violent or rapid curvature2 nevertheless1 in the best compositions1 violent curvature is permitted1 but permitted only over small spaces in the curve4 #aa4 ,the right line is to the curve what monotony is to melody1 and what unvaried color is to gradated color4 ,and as often the sweetest music is so low and continuous as to approach a monotone2 and as often the sweetest gradations so delicate and subdued as to approach to flatness1 so the finest curves are apt to hover about the right line1 nearly coinciding with it for a long space of their curve2 never absolutely losing their own curvilinear character1 but apparently every moment on the point of merging into the right line4 ,when this is the case1 the line generally returns into vigorous curvature at some part of its course1 otherwise it is apt to be weak1 or slightly rigid2 multitudes of other curves1 not approaching the right line so nearly1 remain less vigorously bent in the rest of their course2 so that the quantity#hh of curvature is the same in both1 though differently distributed4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ie4 #ab4 ,the modes in which ,nature produces variable curves on a large scale are very numerous1 but may generally be resolved into the gradual increase or diminution of some given force4 ,thus1 if a chain hangs between two points ,a and ,b1 ,fig4 #ie1 the weight of chain sustained by any given link increases gradually from the central link at ,c1 which has only its own weight to sustain1 to the link at ,b1 which sustains1 besides its own1 the weight of all the links between it and ,c4 ,this increased weight is continually pulling the curve of the swinging chain more nearly straight as it ascends towards ,b2 and hence one of the most beautifully gradated natural curves--called the catenary--of course assumed not by chains only1 but by all flexible and elongated substances1 suspended between two points4 ,if the points of suspension be near each other1 we have such curves as at ,d2 and if1 as in nine cases out of ten will be the case1 one point of suspension is lower than the other1 a still more varied and beautiful curve is formed1 as at ,e4 ,such curves constitute nearly the whole beauty of general contour in falling drapery1 tendrils and festoons of weeds over rocks1 and such other pendent objects4#hi #ac4 ,again4 ,if any object be cast into the air1 the force with which it is cast dies gradually away1 and its own weight brings it downwards2 at first slowly1 then faster and faster every moment1 in a curve which1 as the line of fall necessarily nears the perpendicular1 is continually approximating to a straight line4 ,this curve--called the parabola--is that of all projected or bounding objects4 #ad4 ,again4 ,if a rod or stick of any kind gradually becomes more slender or more flexible1 and is bent by any external force1 the force will not only increase in effect as the rod becomes weaker1 but the rod itself1 once bent1 will continually yield more willingly1 and be more easily bent farther in the same direction1 and will thus show a continual increase of curvature from its thickest or most rigid part to its extremity4 ,this kind of line is that assumed by boughs of trees under wind4 #ae4 ,again4 ,whenever any vital force is impressed on any organic substance1 so as to die gradually away as the substance extends1 an infinite curve is commonly produced by its outline4 ,thus1 in the budding of the leaf1 already examined1 the gradual dying away of the exhilaration of the younger ribs produces an infinite curve in the outline of the leaf1 which sometimes fades imperceptibly into a right line1--sometimes is terminated sharply1 by meeting the opposite curve at the point of the leaf4 #af4 ,nature1 however1 rarely condescends to use one curve only in any of her finer forms4 ,she almost always unites two infinite ones1 so as to form a reversed curve for each main line1 and then modulates each of them into myriads of minor ones4 ,in a single elm leaf1 such as ,fig4 #d1 ,plate #h1 she uses three such--one for the stalk1 and one for each of the sides1--to regulate their general flow2 dividing afterwards each of their broad lateral lines into some twenty less curves by the jags of the leaf1 and then again into minor waves4 ,thus1 in any complicated group of leaves whatever1 the infinite curves are themselves almost countless4 ,in a single extremity of a magnolia spray1 the uppermost figure in ,plate #db1 including only sixteen leaves1 each leaf having some three to five distinct curves along its edge1 the lines for separate study1 including those of the stems1 would be between sixty and eighty4 ,in a single spring-shoot of laburnum1 the lower figure in the same plate1 ,i leave the reader to count them for himself2 all these1 observe1 being seen at one view only1 and every change of position bringing into sight another equally numerous set of curves4 ,for instance1 in ,plate #dc is a group of four withered leaves1 in four positions1 giving1 each1 a beautiful and well composed group of curves1 variable gradually into the next group as the branch is turned4 #ag4 ,the following ,plate 7#dd71 representing a young shoot of independent ivy1 just beginning to think it would like to get something to cling to1 shows the way in which ,nature brings subtle curvature into forms that at first seem rigid4 ,the stems of the young leaves look nearly straight1 and the sides of the projecting points1 or bastions1 of the leaves themselves nearly so2 but on examination it will be found that there is not a stem nor a leaf-edge but is a portion of one infinite curve1 if not of two or three4 ,the main line of the supporting stem is a very lovely one2 and the little half-opened leaves1 in their thirteenth-century segmental simplicity 7compare ,fig4 #i1 ,plate #h in ,vol4 ,,iii471 singularly spirited and beautiful4 ,it may1 perhaps1 interest the general reader to know that one of the infinite curves derives its name from its supposed resemblance to the climbing of ivy up a tree4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ig4 #ah4 ,i spoke just now of well-composed curves1--,i mean curves so arranged as to oppose and set each other off1 and yet united by a common law2 for as the beauty of every curve depends on the unity of its several component lines1 so the beauty of each group of curves depends on their submission to some general law4 ,in forms which quickly attract the eye1 the law which unites the curves is distinctly manifest2 but1 in the richer compositions of ,nature1 cunningly concealed by delicate infractions of it2--wilfulnesses they seem1 and forgetfulnesses1 which1 if once the law be perceived1 only increase our delight in it by showing that it is one of equity1 not of rigor1 and allows1 within certain limits1 a kind of individual liberty4 ,thus the system of unison which regulates the magnolia shoot1 in ,plate #db1 is formally expressed in ,fig4 #ig4 ,every line has its origin in the point p1 and the curves generally diminish in intensity towards the extremities of the leaves1 one or two1 however1 again increasing their sweep near the points4 ,in vulgar ornamentation1 entirely rigid laws of line are always observed2 and the common ,greek honeysuckle and other such formalisms are attractive to uneducated eyes1 owing to their manifest compliance with the first conditions of unity and symmetry1 being to really noble ornamentation what the sing-song of a bad reader of poetry1 laying regular emphasis on every required syllable of every foot1 is to the varied1 irregular1 unexpected1 inimitable cadence of the voice of a person of sense and feeling reciting the same lines1--not incognisant of the rhythm1 but delicately bending it to the expression of passion1 and the natural sequence of the thought4 #ai4 ,in mechanically drawn patterns of dress1 ,alhambra and common ,moorish ornament1 ,greek mouldings1 common flamboyant traceries1 common ,corinthian and ,ionic capitals1 and such other work1 lines of this declared kind 7generally to be classed under the head of doggerel ornamentation7 may be seen in rich profusion2 and they are necessarily the only kind of lines which can be felt or enjoyed by persons who have been educated without reference to natural forms2 their instincts being blunt1 and their eyes actually incapable of perceiving the inflexion of noble curves4 ,but the moment the perceptions have been refined by reference to natural form1 the eye requires perpetual variation and transgression of the formal law4 ,take the simplest possible condition of thirteenth-century scroll-work1 ,fig4 #ih4 ,the law or cadence established is of a circling tendril1 terminating in an ivy-leaf4 ,in vulgar design1 the curves of the circling tendril would have been similar to each other1 and might have been drawn by a machine1 or by some mathematical formula4 ,but in good design all imitation by machinery is impossible4 ,no curve is like another for an instant2 no branch springs at an expected point4 ,a cadence is observed1 as in the returning clauses of a beautiful air in music2 but every clause has its own change1 its own surprises4 ,the enclosing form is here stiff and 7nearly7 straight-sided1 in order to oppose the circular scroll-work2 but on looking close it will be found that each of its sides is a portion of an infinite curve1 almost too delicate to be traced2 except the short lowest one1 which is made quite straight1 to oppose the rest4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ih4 ,i give one more example from another leaf of the same manuscript1 ,fig4 #ii1 merely to show the variety introduced by the old designers between page and page4 ,and1 in general1 the reader may take it for a settled law that1 whatever can be done by machinery1 or imitated by formula1 is not worth doing or imitating at all4 #bj4 ,the quantity of admissible transgression of law varies with the degree in which the ornamentation involves or admits imitation of nature4 ,thus1 if these ivy leaves in ,fig4 #ii were completely drawn in light and shade1 they would not be properly connected with the more or less regular sequences of the scroll2 and in every subordinate ornament1 something like complete symmetry may be admitted1 as in bead mouldings1 chequerings1 c4 ,also1 the ways in which the transgression may be granted vary infinitely2 in the finest compositions it is perpetual1 and yet so balanced and atoned for as always to bring about more beauty than if there had been no transgression4 ,in a truly fine mountain or organic line1 if it is looked at in detail1 no one would believe in its being a continuous curve1 or being subjected to any fixed law4 ,it seems broken1 and bending a thousand ways2 perfectly free and wild1 and yielding to every impulse4 ,but1 after following with the eye three or four of its impulses1 we shall begin to trace some strange order among them2 every added movement will make the ruling intent clearer2 and when the whole life of the line is revealed at last1 it will be found to have been1 throughout1 as obedient to the true law of its course as the stars in their orbits4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ii4 ,the four systems of mountain line4 #ba4 ,thus much may suffice for our immediate purpose respecting beautiful lines in general4 ,we have now to consider the particular groups of them belonging to mountains4 ,the lines which are produced by course of time upon hill contours are mainly divisible into four systems4 #a4 ,lines of ,fall4 ,those which are wrought out on the solid mass by the fall of water or of stones4 #b4 ,lines of ,projection4 ,those which are produced in dbris by the bounding of the masses1 under the influence of their falling force4 #c4 ,lines of ,escape4 ,those which are produced by the spreading of dbris from a given point over surfaces of varied shape4 #d4 ,lines of ,rest4 ,those which are assumed by dbris when in a state of comparative permanence and stability4 #a4 ,lines of ,fall4 #a4 ,lines of ,fall4 ,produced by falling bodies upon hill-surfaces4 ,however little the reader may be acquainted with hills1 ,i believe that1 almost instinctively1 he will perceive that the form supposed to belong to a wooded promontory at a1 ,fig4 #ajj1 is an impossible one2 and that the form at b is not only a possible but probable one4 ,the lines are equally formal in both4 ,but in a1 the curve is a portion of a circle1 meeting a level line3 in b it is an infinite line1 getting less and less steep as it ascends4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ajj4 ,whenever a mass of mountain is worn gradually away by forces descending from its top1 it necessarily assumes1 more or less perfectly1 according to the time for which it has been exposed1 and the tenderness of its substance1 such contours as those at b1 for the simple reason that every stream and every falling grain of sand gains in velocity and erosive power as it descends4 ,hence1 cutting away the ground gradually faster and faster1 they produce the most rapid curvature 7provided the rock be hard enough7 towards the bottom of the hill4#ij #bb4 ,but farther3 in b it will be noticed that the lines always get steeper as they fall more and more to the right2 and ,i should think the reader must feel that they look more natural1 so drawn1 than1 as at a1 in unvarying curves4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #aja4 ,this is no less easily accounted for4 ,the simplest typical form under which a hill can occur is that of a cone4 ,let ,a ,c ,b1 ,fig4 #aja1 have been its original contour4 ,then the aqueous forces will cut away the shaded portions1 reducing it to the outline d ,c e4 ,farther1 in doing so1 the water will certainly have formed for itself gullies or channels from top to bottom4 ,these1 supposing them at equal distances round the cone1 will appear1 in perspective1 in the lines g h i4 ,it does not1 of course1 matter whether we consider the lines in this figure to represent the bottom of the ravines1 or the ridges between1 both being formed on similar curves2 but the rounded lines in ,fig4 #ajj would be those of forests seen on the edges of each detached ridge4 #bc4 ,now although a mountain is rarely perfectly conical1 and never divided by ravines at exactly equal distances1 the law which is seen in entire simplicity in ,fig4 #aja1 applies with a sway more or less interrupted1 but always manifest1 to every convex and retiring mountain form4 ,all banks that thus turn away from the spectator necessarily are thrown into perspectives like that of one side of this figure2 and although not divided with equality1 their irregular divisions crowd gradually together towards the distant edge1 being then less steep1 and separate themselves towards the body of the hill1 being then more steep4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ajb4 #bd4 ,it follows1 also1 that not only the whole of the nearer curves1 will be steeper1 but1 if seen from below1 the steepest parts of them will be the more important4 ,supposing each1 instead of a curve1 divided into a sloping line and a precipitous one1 the perspective of the precipice1 raising its top continually1 will give the whole cone the shape of a or b in ,fig4 #ajb1 in which1 observe1 the precipice is of more importance1 and the slope of less1 precisely in proportion to the nearness of the mass4 #be4 ,fig4 #ajb1 therefore1 will be the general type of the form of a convex retiring hill symmetrically constructed4 ,the precipitous part of it may vary in height or in slope according to original conformation2 but the heights being supposed equal along the whole flank1 the contours will be as in that figure2 the various rise and fall of real height altering the perspective appearance accordingly1 as we shall see presently1 after examining the other three kinds of line4 #b4 ,lines of ,projection4 #b4 ,lines of ,projection4 ,produced by fragments bounding or carried forward from the bases of hills4 #bf4 ,the fragments carried down by the torrents from the flanks of the hill are of course deposited at the base of it4 ,but they are deposited in various ways1 of which it is most difficult to analyze the laws2 for they are thrown down under the influence partly of flowing water1 partly of their own gravity1 partly of projectile force caused by their fall from the higher summits of the hill2 while the dbris itself1 after it has fallen1 undergoes farther modification by surface streamlets4 ,but in a general way dbris descending from the hill side1 a b1 ,fig4 #ajc1 will arrange itself in a form approximating to the concave line d c1 the larger masses remaining undisturbed at the bottom1 while the smaller are gradually carried farther and farther by surface streams4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ajc4 #c4 ,lines of ,escape4 #c4 ,lines of ,escape4 ,produced by the lateral dissemination of the fragments4 #bg4 ,but this form is much modified by the special direction of the descending force as it escapes from confinement4 ,for a stream coming down a ravine is kept by the steep sides of its channel in concentrated force3 but it no sooner reaches the bottom1 and escapes from its ravine1 than it spreads in all directions1 or at least tries to choose a new channel at every flood4 ,let a b c1 ,fig4 #ajd1 be three ridges of mountain4 ,the two torrents coming down the ravine between them meet1 at d and e1 with the heaps of ground formerly thrown down by their own agency4 ,these heaps being more or less in the form of cones1 the torrent has a tendency to divide upon their apex1 like water poured on the top of a sugar-loaf1 and branch into the radiating channels e x1 e y1 c4 ,the stronger it is1 the more it is disposed to rush straightforward1 or with little curvature1 as in the line e x1 with the impetus it has received in coming down the ravine2 the weaker it is1 the more readily it will lean to one side or the other1 and fall away in the lines of escape1 e y1 or e h2 but of course at times of highest flood it fills all its possible channels1 and invents a few new ones1 of which afterwards the straightest will be kept by the main stream1 and the lateral curves occupied by smaller branches2 the whole system corresponding precisely to the action of the ribs of the young leaf1 as shown in ,plate #h of ,vol4 ,,iii41 especially in ,fig4 #f1--the main torrent1 like the main rib1 making the largest fortune1 i4 e4 raising the highest heap of gravel and dust4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ajd4 #bh4 ,it may easily be imagined that when the operation takes place on a large scale1 the mass of earth thus deposited in a gentle slope at the mountain's foot becomes available for agricultural purposes1 and that then it is of the greatest importance to prevent the stream from branching into various channels at its will1 and pouring fresh sand over the cultivated fields4 ,accordingly1 at the mouth of every large ravine in the ,alps1 where the peasants know how to live and how to work1 the stream is artificially embanked1 and compelled as far as possible to follow the central line down the cone4 ,hence1 when the traveller passes along any great valley1--as that of the ,rhone or ,arve1--into which minor torrents are poured by lateral ravines1 he will find himself every now and then ascending a hill of moderate slope1 at the top of which he will cross a torrent1 or its bed1 and descend by another gradual slope to the usual level of the valley4 ,in every such case1 his road has ascended a tongue of dbris1 and has crossed the embanked torrent carried by force along its centre4 ,under such circumstances1 the entire tongue or heap of land ceases of course to increase1 until the bed of the confined torrent is partially choked by its perpetual deposit4 ,then in some day of violent rain the waves burst their fetters1 branch at their own will1 cover the fields of some unfortunate farmer with stones and slime1 according to the torrent's own idea of the new form which it has become time to give to the great tongue of land1 carry away the road and the bridge together1 and arrange everything to their own liking4 ,but the road is again painfully traced among the newly fallen dbris2 the embankment and bridge again built for the stream1 now satisfied with its outbreak2 and the tongue of land submitted to new processes of cultivation for a certain series of years4 ,when1 however1 the torrent is exceedingly savage1 and generally of a republican temper1 the outbreaks are too frequent and too violent to admit of any cultivation of the tongue of land4 ,a few straggling alder or thorn bushes1 their roots buried in shingle1 and their lower branches fouled with slime1 alone relieve with ragged spots of green the broad waste of stones and dust4 ,the utmost that can be done is to keep the furious stream from choosing a new channel in every one of its fits of passion1 and remaining in it afterwards1 thus extending its devastation in entirely unforeseen directions4 ,the land which it has brought down must be left a perpetual sacrifice to its rage2 but in the moment of its lassitude it is brought back to its central course1 and compelled to forego for a few weeks or months the luxury of deviation4 #bi4 ,on the other hand1 when1 owing to the nature of the valley above1 the stream is gentle1 and the sediment which it brings down small in quantity1 it may be retained for long years in its constant path1 while the sides of the bank of earth it has borne down are clothed with pasture and forest1 seen in the distance of the great valley as a promontory of sweet verdure1 along which the central stream passes with an influence of blessing1 submitting itself to the will of the husbandman for irrigation1 and of the mechanist for toil2 now nourishing the pasture1 and now grinding the corn1 of the land which it has first formed1 and now waters4 #cj4 ,i have etched above1 ,plate #ce1 a portion of the flank of the valley of ,chamouni1 which presents nearly every class of line under discussion1 and will enable the reader to understand their relations at once4 ,it represents1 as was before stated1 the crests of the ,montagnes de la ,cte and ,taconay1 shown from base to summit1 with the ,glacier des ,bossons and its moraine4 ,the reference figure given at p4 #bab will enable the reader to distinguish its several orders of curves1 as follows3 h r4 ,aqueous curves of fall1 at the base of the ,tapia2 very characteristic4 ,similar curves are seen in multitude on the two crests beyond as b c1 c ,b4 d e4 ,first lines of projection4 ,the dbris falling from the glacier and the heights above4 k1 l1 n4,three lines of escape4 ,a considerable torrent 7one of whose falls is the well-known ,cascade des ,plerins#ia7 descends from behind the promontory h3 its natural or proper course would be to dash straight forward down the line f g1 and part of it does so2 but erratic branches of it slide away round the promontory1 in the lines of escape1 k1 l1 c4 ,each row of trees marks1 therefore1 an old torrent bed1 for the torrent always throws heaps of stones up along its banks1 on which the pines1 growing higher than on the neighboring ground1 indicate its course by their supremacy4 ,when the escaped stream is feeble1 it steals quietly away down the steepest part of the slope2 that is to say1 close under the promontory1 at i4 ,if it is stronger1 the impetus from the hill above shoots it farther out1 in the line k2 if stronger still1 at l2 in each case it curves gradually round as it loses its onward force1 and falls more and more languidly to leeward1 down the slope of the dbris4 r s4 ,a line which1 perhaps1 would be more properly termed of limitation than of escape1 being that of the base or termination of the heap of torrent dbris1 which in shape corresponds exactly to the curved lip of a wave1 after it has broken1 as it slowly stops upon a shallow shore4 ,within this line the ground is entirely composed of heaps of stones1 cemented by granite dust and cushioned with moss1 while outside of it1 all is smooth pasture4 ,the pines enjoy the stony ground particularly1 and hold large meetings upon it1 but the alders are shy of it2 and1 when it has come to an end1 form a triumphal procession all round its edge1 following the concave line4 ,the correspondent curves above are caused by similar lines in which the dbris has formerly stopped4 ,illustration3 #de4 ,dbris ,curvature4 #ca4 ,i found it a matter of the greatest difficulty to investigate the picturesque characters of these lines of projection and escape1 because1 as presented to the eye1 they are always modified by perspective2 and it is almost a physical impossibility to get a true profile of any of the slopes1 they round and melt so constantly into one another4 ,many of them1 roughly measured1 are nearly circular in tendency2#ib but ,i believe they are all portions of infinite curves either modified by the concealment or destruction of the lower lips of dbris1 or by their junction with straight lines of slope above1 throwing the longest limb of the curve upwards4 ,fig4 #a1 in ,plate #de opposite1 is a simple but complete example from ,chamouni2 the various overlapping and concave lines at the bottom being the limits of the mass at various periods1 more or less broken afterwards by the peasants1 either by removing stones for building1 or throwing them back at the edges here and there1 out of the way of the plough2 but even with all these breaks1 their natural unity is so sweet and perfect1 that1 if the reader will turn the plate upside down1 he will see ,i have no difficulty 7merely adding a quill or two7 in turning them into a bird's wing 7,fig4 #b71 a little ruffled indeed1 but still graceful1 and not of such a form as one would have supposed likely to be designed and drawn1 as indeed it was1 by the rage of a torrent4 ,but we saw in ,chap4 ,,vii4 #aj that this very rage was1 in fact1 a beneficent power1--creative1 not destructive2 and as all its apparent cruelty is overruled by the law of love1 so all its apparent disorder is overruled by the law of loveliness3 the hand of ,god1 leading the wrath of the torrent to minister to the life of mankind1 guides also its grim surges by the laws of their delight2 and bridles the bounding rocks1 and appeases the flying foam1 till they lie down in the same lines that lead forth the fibres of the down on a cygnet's breast4 #cb4 ,the straight slopes with which these curves unite themselves below1 in ,plate #cc 7f g in reference figure71 are those spoken of in the outset as lines of rest4 ,but ,i defer to the next chapter the examination of these1 which are a separate family of lines 7not curves at all71 in order to reassemble the conclusions we have now obtained respecting curvature in mountains1 and apply them to questions of art4 ,and1 first1 it is of course not to be supposed that these symmetrical laws are so manifest in their operation as to force themselves on the observance of men in general4 ,they are interrupted1 necessarily1 by every fantastic accident in the original conformation of the hills1 which1 according to the hardness of their rocks1 more or less accept or refuse the authority of general law4 ,still1 the farther we extend our observance of hills1 the more we shall be struck by the continual roundness and softness which it seems the object of nature to give to every form2 so that1 when crags look sharp and distorted1 it is not so much that they are unrounded1 as that the various curves are more subtly accommodated to the angles1 and that1 instead of being worn into one sweeping and smooth descent1 like the surface of a knoll or down1 the rock is wrought into innumerable minor undulations1 its own fine anatomy showing through all4 ,illustration3 ,j4 ,ruskin4 ,j4 ,h4 ,le ,keux4 #df4 ,the ,buttresses of an ,alp4 #cc4 ,perhaps the mountain which ,i have drawn on the opposite page 7,plate #dfic7 is1 in its original sternness of mass1 and in the complexity of lines into which it has been chiselled1 as characteristic an instance as could be given by way of general type4 ,it is one of no name or popular interest1 but of singular importance in the geography of ,switzerland1 being the angle buttress of the great northern chain of the ,alps 7the chain of the ,jungfrau and ,gemmi71 and forming the promontory round which the ,rhone turns to the north-west1 at ,martigny4 ,it is composed of an intensely hard gneiss 7slaty crystalline71 in which the plates of mica are set for the most part against the angle1 running nearly north and south1 as in ,fig4 #aje1 and giving the point1 therefore1 the utmost possible strength1 which1 however1 cannot prevent it from being rent gradually by enormous curved fissures1 and separated into huge vertical flakes and chasms1 just at the lower promontory1 as seen in ,plate #df1 and 7in plan7 in ,fig4 #aje4 ,the whole of the upper surface of the promontory is wrought by the old glaciers into furrows and stri more notable than any ,i ever saw in the ,alps4 #cd4 ,now observe1 we have here a piece of ,nature's work which she has assuredly been long in executing1 and which is in peculiarly firm and stable material4 ,it is in her best rock 7slaty crystalline71 at a point important for all her geographical purposes1 and at the degree of mountain elevation especially adapted to the observation of mankind4 ,we shall therefore probably ascertain as much of ,nature's mind about these things in this piece of work as she usually allows us to see all at once4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #aje4 #ce4 ,if the reader will take a pencil1 and1 laying tracing paper over the plate1 follow a few of its lines1 he will 7unless before accustomed to accurate mountain-drawing7 be soon amazed by the complexity1 endlessness1 and harmony of the curvatures4 ,he will find that there is not one line in all that rock which is not an infinite curve1 and united in some intricate way with others1 and suggesting others unseen2 and if it were the reality1 instead of my drawing1 which he had to deal with1 he would find the infinity1 in a little while1 altogether overwhelm him4 ,but even in this imperfect sketch1 as he traces the multitudinous involution of flowing line1 passing from swift to slight curvature1 or slight to swift1 at every instant1 he will1 ,i think1 find enough to convince him of the truth of what has been advanced respecting the natural appointment of curvature as the first element of all loveliness in form4 #cf4 ,nay1 but there are hard and straight lines mingled with those curves continually4 ,true1 as we have said so often1 just as shade is mixed with light4 ,angles and undulations may rise and flow continually1 one through or over the other2 but the opposition is in quantity nearly always the same1 if the mass is to be pleasant to the eye4 ,in the example previously given 7,plate #dj71 the limestone bank above ,villeneuve1 it is managed in a different way1 but is equal in degree2 the lower portion of the hill is of soft rock in thin lamin2 the upper mass is a solid and firm bed1 yet not so hard as to stand all weathers4 ,the lower portion1 therefore1 is rounded into almost unbroken softness of bank2 the upper surmounts it as a rugged wall1 and the opposition of the curve and angle is just as complete as in the first example1 in which one was continually mingled with the other4 #cg4 ,next1 note the quantity in these hills4 ,it is an element on which ,i shall have to insist more in speaking of vegetation2 but ,i must not pass it by1 here1 since1 in fact1 it constitutes one of the essential differences between hills of first-rate magnificence1 and inferior ones4 ,not that there is want of quantity even in the lower ranges1 but it is a quantity of inferior things1 and therefore more easily represented or suggested4 ,on a ,highland hill side are multitudinous clusters of fern and heather2 on an ,alpine one1 multitudinous groves of chestnut and pine4 ,the number of the things may be the same1 but the sense of infinity is in the latter case far greater1 because the number is of nobler things4 ,indeed1 so far as mere magnitude of space occupied on the field of the horizon is the measure of objects1 a bank of earth ten feet high may1 if we stoop to the foot of it1 be made to occupy just as much of the sky as that bank of mountain at ,villeneuve2 nay1 in many respects its little ravines and escarpments1 watched with some help of imagination1 may become very sufficiently representative to us of those of the great mountain2 and in classing all water-worn mountain-ground under the general and humble term of ,banks1 ,i mean to imply this relationship of structure between the smallest eminences and the highest4 ,but in this matter of superimposed quantity the distinctions of rank are at once fixed4 ,the heap of earth bears its few tufts of moss or knots of grass2 the ,highland or ,cumberland mountain its honeyed heathers or scented ferns2 but the mass of the bank at ,martigny or ,villeneuve has a vineyard in every cranny of its rocks1 and a chestnut grove on every crest of them4 #ch4 ,this is no poetical exaggeration4 ,look close into that plate 7#df74 ,every little circular stroke in it among the rocks means1 not a clump of copse nor wreath of fern1 but a walnut tree1 or a ,spanish chestnut1 fifty or sixty feet high4 ,nor are the little curves1 thus significative of trees1 laid on at random4 ,they are not indeed counted1 tree by tree1 but they are most carefully distributed in the true proportion and quantity2 or if ,i have erred at all1 it was1 from mere fatigue1 on the side of sparingness4 ,the minute mounds and furrows scattered up the side of that great promontory1 when they are actually approached1 after three or four hours' climbing1 turn into independent hills with true parks of lovely pasture land enclosed among them1 and avenue after avenue of chestnuts1 walnuts1 and pines bending round their bases2 while in the deeper dingles1 unseen in the drawing1 nestle populous villages1 literally bound down to the rock by enormous trunks of vine1 which1 first trained lightly over the loose stone roofs1 have in process of years cast their fruitful net over the whole village1 and fastened it to the ground under their purple weight and wayward coils1 as securely as ever human heart was fastened to earth by the net of the ,flatterer4 #ci4 ,and it is this very richness of incident and detail which renders ,switzerland so little attractive in its subjects to the ordinary artist4 ,observe1 this study of mine in ,plate #df does not profess to be a picture at all4 ,it is a mere sketch or catalogue of all that there is on the mountain side1 faithfully written out1 but no more than should be put down by any conscientious painter for mere guidance1 before he begins his work1 properly so called2 and in finishing such a subject no trickery nor shorthand is of any avail whatsoever2 there are a certain number of trees to be drawn2 and drawn they must be1 or the place will not bear its proper character4 ,they are not misty wreaths of soft wood suggestible by a sweep or two of the brush2 but arranged and lovely clusters of trees1 clear in the mountain sunlight1 each specially grouped and as little admitting any carelessness of treatment1 though five miles distant1 as if they were within a few yards of us2 the whole meaning and power of the scene being involved in that one fact of quantity4 ,it is not large merely by multitudes of tons of rock1--the number of tons is not measurable2 it is not large by elevation of angle on the horizon1--a house-roof near us rises higher2 it is not large by faintness of aerial perspective1--in a clear day it often looks as if we could touch the summit with the hand4 ,but it is large by this one unescapable fact that1 from the summit to the base of it1 there are of timber trees so many countable thousands4 ,the scene differs from subjects not ,swiss by including hundreds of other scenes within itself1 and is mighty1 not by scale1 but by aggregation4 #dj4 ,and this is more especially and humiliatingly true of pine forest4 ,nearly all other kinds of wood may be reduced1 over large spaces1 to undetailed masses2 but there is nothing but patience for pines2 and this has been one of the principal reasons why artists call ,switzerland unpicturesque4 ,there may perhaps be1 in the space of a ,swiss valley which comes into a picture1 from five to ten millions of well grown pines4#id ,every one of these pines must be drawn before the scene can be4 ,and a pine cannot be represented by a round stroke1 nor by an upright one1 nor even by an angular one2 no conventionalism will express a pine2 it must be legitimately drawn1 with a light side and a dark side1 and a soft gradation from the top downwards1 or it does not look like a pine at all4 ,most artists think it not desirable to choose a subject which involves the drawing of ten millions of trees2 because1 supposing they could even do four or five in a minute1 and worked for ten hours a day1 their picture would still take them ten years before they had finished its pine forests4 ,for this1 and other similar reasons1 it is declared usually that ,switzerland is ugly and unpicturesque2 but that is not so2 it is only that we cannot paint it4 ,if we could1 it would be as interesting on the canvas as it is in reality2 and a painter of fruit and flowers might just as well call a human figure unpicturesque1 because it was to him unmanageable1 as the ordinary landscape-effect painter speak in depreciation of the ,alps4 #da4 ,it is not probable that any subjects such as we have just been describing1 involving a necessity of ten years' labor1 will be executed by the modern landscape school1--at least1 until its ,pre-,raphaelitic tendencies become much more developed than they are yet2 nor was it desirable that they should have been by ,turner1 whose fruitful invention would have been unwisely arrested for a length of time on any single subject1 however beautiful4 ,but with his usual certainty of perception1 he fastened at once on this character of quantity1 as the thing to be expressed1 in one way or another1 in all grand mountain-drawing2 and the subjects of his on which ,i have chiefly dwelt in the ,first ,volume 7chapter on the ,inferior ,mountains1 #af1 c47 are distinguished from the work of other painters in nothing so much as in this redundance4 ,beautiful as they are in color1 graceful in fancy1 powerful in execution1--in none of these things do they stand so much alone as in plain1 calculable quantity2 he having always on the average twenty trees or rocks where other people have only one1 and winning his victories not more by skill of generalship than by overwhelming numerical superiority4 #db4 ,i say his works are distinguished in this more than in anything else1 not because this is their highest quality1 but because it is peculiar to them4 ,invention1 color1 grace of arrangement1 we may find in ,tintoret and ,veronese in various manifestation2 but the expression of the infinite redundance of natural landscape had never been attempted until ,turner's time2 and the treatment of the masses of mountain in the ,daphne and ,leucippus1 ,golden ,bough1 and ,modern ,italy1 is wholly without precursorship in art4 ,nor1 observe1 do ,i insist upon this quantity merely as arithmetical1 or as if it were producible by repetition of similar things4 ,it would be easy to be redundant1 if multiplication of the same idea constituted fulness2 and since ,turner first introduced these types of landscape1 myriads of vulgar imitations of them have been produced1 whose perpetrators have supposed themselves disciples or rivals of ,turner1 in covering their hills with white dots for forest1 and their foregrounds with yellow sparklings for herbage4 ,but the ,turnerian redundance is never monotonous4 ,of the thousands of groups of touches which1 with him1 are necessary to constitute a single bank of hill1 not one but has some special character1 and is as much a separate invention as the whole plan of the picture4 ,perhaps this may be sufficiently understood by an attentive examination of the detail introduced by him in his ,st4 ,gothard subject1 as shown in ,plate #cg4 #dc4 ,i do not1 indeed1 know if the examples ,i have given from natural scenes1 though they are as characteristic as ,i could well choose1 are enough to accustom the reader to the character of true mountain lines1 and to enable him to recognize such lines in other instances2 but if not1 at all events they may serve to elucidate the main points1 and guide to more complete examination of the subject1 if it interests him1 among the hills themselves4 ,and if1 after he has pursued the inquiry long enough to feel the certitude of the laws which ,i have been endeavoring to illustrate1 he turns back again to art1 ,i am well assured it will be with a strange recognition of unconceived excellence1 and a newly quickened pleasure in the unforeseen fidelity1 that he will trace the pencilling of ,turner upon his hill drawings4 ,i do not choose to spend1 in this work1 the labor and time which would be necessary to analyze1 as ,i have done the drawing of the ,st4 ,gothard1 any other of ,turner's important mountain designs2 for the reader must feel the disadvantage they are under in being either reduced in scale1 or divided into fragments3 and therefore these chapters are always to be considered merely as memoranda for reference before the pictures which the reader may have it in his power to examine4 ,but this one drawing of the ,st4 ,gothard1 as it has already elucidated for us ,turner's knowledge of crest structure1 will be found no less wonderful in the fulness with which it illustrates his perception of the lower aqueous and other curvatures4 ,if the reader will look back to the etching of the entire subject1 ,plate #ba1 he will now discern1 ,i believe1 without the necessity of my lettering them for him1 the lines of fall1 rounded down from the crests until they plunge into the overhanging precipices2 the lines of projection1 where the fallen stones extend the long concave sweep from the couloir1 pushing the torrent against the bank on the other side2 in the opening of the ravine he will perceive the oblique and parallel inclination of its sides1 following the cleavage of the beds in the diagonal line ,a ,b of the reference figure2 and1 finally1 in the great slope and precipice on the right of it1 he will recognize one of the grandest types of the peculiar mountain mass which ,turner always chose by preference to illustrate1 the slope above wall of d in ,fig4 #ac1 p4 #adh2 compare also the last chapter1 #bf1 #bg4 ,it will be seen1 by reference to my sketch of the spot1 ,plate #bj1 that this conformation does actually exist there with great definiteness3 ,turner has only enlarged and thrown it into more numerous alternations of light and shade4 ,as these could not be shown in the etching1 ,i have given1 in the frontispiece1 this passage nearly of its real size3 the exquisite greys and blues by which ,turner has rounded and thrown it back are necessarily lost in the plate2 but the grandeur of his simple cliff and soft curves of sloping bank above is in some degree rendered4 ,we must yet dwell for a moment on the detail of the rocks on the left in ,plate #cg1 as they approach nearer the eye1 turning at the same time from the light4 ,it cost me trouble to etch this passage1 and yet half its refinements are still missed2 for ,turner has put his whole strength into it1 and wrought out the curving of the gneiss beds with a subtlety which could not be at all approached in the time ,i had to spare for this plate4 ,enough1 however1 is expressed to illustrate the points in question4 #dd4 ,we have first1 observe1 a rounded bank1 broken1 at its edges1 into cleavages by inclined beds4 ,i thought it would be well1 lest the reader should think ,i dwelt too much on this particular scene1 to give an instance of similar structure from another spot2 and therefore ,i daguerreotyped the cleavages of a slope of gneiss just above the ,cascade des ,plerins1 ,chamouni1 corresponding in position to this bank of ,turner's4 ,plate #dh 7facing p4 #cjc71 copied by ,mr4 ,armytage from the daguerreotype1 represents1 necessarily in a quite unprejudiced and impartial way1 the structure at present in question2 and the reader may form a sufficient idea1 from this plate1 of the complexity of descending curve and foliated rent1 in even a small piece of mountain foreground1#ie where the gneiss beds are tolerably continuous4 ,but ,turner had to add to such general complexity the expression of a more than ordinary undulation in the beds of the ,st4 ,gothard gneiss4 #de4 ,if the reader will look back to ,chapter ,,ii4 #ac1 he will find it stated that this scene is approached out of the defile of ,dazio ,grande1 of which the impression was still strong on ,turner's mind1 and where only he could see1 close at hand1 the nature of the rocks in a good section4 ,it most luckily happens that ,de ,saussure was interested by the rocks at the same spot1 and has given the following account of them1 ,voyages1 #ahja1 #ahjb3-- une lieue de ,fado1 l'on passe le ,tsin pour le repasser bientt aprs see the old bridge in ,turner's view1 carried away in mine1 et l'on trouve sur sa rive droite des couches d'une roche feuillete1 qui montent du ,ct du ,nord4 ,on voit clairement que depuis que les granits veins ont t remplacs par des pierres moins solides1 tantt les rochers se sont bouls et ont t recouverts par la terre vgtale1 tantt leur situation primitive a subi des changements irrguliers4 #ahjb4 ,mais bientt aprs1 on monte par un chemin en corniche au dessus du ,tsin1 qui se prcipite entre des rochers avec la plus grande violence4 ,ces rochers sont l si serrs1 qu'il n'y a de place que pour la rivire et pour le chemin1 et mme en quelques endroits1 celui-ci est entirement pris sur le roc4 ,je fis pied cette monte1 pour examiner avec soin ces beaux rochers1 dignes de toute l'attention d'un amateur4 ,les veins de ce granit forment en plusieurs endroits des zigzags redoubls1 prcisment comme ces anciennes tapisseries1 connues sous le nom de points d',hongrie2 et l1 on ne peut pas prononcer1 si les veins de la pierre1 sont ou ne sont pas parallles ses couches4 ,cependant ces veins reprennent aussi dans quelques places1 une direction constante1 et cette direction est bien la mme que celle des couches4 ,il parot mme qu'en divers endroits1 o ces veins ont la forme d'un sigma ou d'une ,m couche ,m1 ce sont les grandes jambes du sigma1 qui ont la direction des couches4 ,enfin1 j'observai plusieurs couches1 qui dans le milieu de leur paisseur paroissoient remplies de ces veins en zigzag1 tandis qu'auprs de leurs bords1 on les voyoit toutes en lignes droites4 #df4 ,if the reader will now examine ,turner's work at the point x in the reference figure1 and again on the stones in the foreground1 comparing it finally with the fragment of the rocks which happened fortunately to come into my foreground in ,plate #bj1 rising towards the left1 and of which ,i have etched the structure with some care1 though at the time ,i had quite forgotten ,saussure's notice of the peculiar ,m-shaped zigzags of the gneiss at the spot1 ,i believe he will have enough evidence before him1 taken all in all1 to convince him of ,turner's inevitable perception1 and of the entire supremacy of his mountain drawing over all that had previously existed4 ,and if he is able to refer1 even to the engravings 7though ,i desire always that what ,i state should be tested by the drawings only7 of any others of his elaborate hill-subjects1 and will examine their details with careful reference to the laws explained in this chapter1 he will find that the ,turnerian promontories and banks are always simply right1 and that in all respects2 that their gradated curvatures1 and nodding cliffs1 and redundant sequence of folded glen and feathery glade1 are1 in all their seemingly fanciful beauty1 literally the most downright plain speaking that has as yet been uttered about hills2 and differ from all antecedent work1 not in being ideal1 but in being1 so to speak1 pictorial casts of the ground4 ,such a drawing as that of the ,yorkshire ,richmond1 looking down the river1 in the ,england ,series1 is even better than a model of the ground1 because it gives the aerial perspective1 and is better than a photograph of the ground1 because it exaggerates no shadows1 while it unites the veracities both of model and photograph4 #dg4 ,nor let it be thought that it was an easy or creditable thing to treat mountain ground with this faithfulness in the days when ,turner executed those drawings4 ,in the ,encyclopdia ,britannica 7,edinburgh1 #agig71 under article ,drawing1 the following are the directions given for the production of a landscape3-- ,if he is to draw a landscape from nature1 let him take his station on a rising ground1 where he will have a large horizon1 and mark his tablet into three divisions1 downwards from top to the bottom2 and divide in his own mind the landscape he is to take into three divisions also4 ,then let him turn his face directly opposite to the midst of the horizon1 keeping his body fixed1 and draw what is directly before his eyes upon the middle division of the tablet3 then turn his head1 but not his body1#if to the left hand and delineate what he views there1 joining it properly to what he had done before2 and1 lastly1 do the same by what is to be seen upon his right hand1 laying down everything exactly1 both with respect to distance and proportion4 ,one example is given in plate clxviii4 ,the best artists of late1 in drawing their landscapes1 make them shoot away1 one part lower than another4 ,those who make their landscapes mount up higher and higher1 as if they stood at the bottom of a hill to take the prospect1 commit a great error2 the best way is to get upon a rising ground1 make the nearest objects in the piece the highest1 and those that are farther off to shoot away lower and lower till they come almost level with the line of the horizon1 lessening everything proportionably to its distance1 and observing also to make the objects fainter and less distinct the farther they are removed from the eye4 ,he must make all his lights and shades fall one way1 and let every thing have its proper motion3 as trees shaken by the wind1 the small boughs bending more and the large ones less2 water agitated by the wind1 and dashing against ships or boats1 or falling from a precipice upon rocks and stones1 and spirting up again into the air1 and sprinkling all about2 clouds also in the air now gathered with the winds2 now violently condensed into hail1 rain1 and the like1--always remembering1 that whatever motions are caused by the wind must be made all to move the same way1 because the wind can blow but one way at once4 ,such was the state of the public mind1 and of public instruction1 at the time when ,claude1 ,poussin1 and ,salvator were in the zenith of their reputation2 such were the precepts which1 even to the close of the century1 it was necessary for a young painter to comply with during the best part of the years he gave to study4 ,take up one of ,turner's views of our ,yorkshire dells1 seen from about a hawk's height of pause above the sweep of its river1 and with it in your hand1 side by side with the old ,encyclopdia paragraph1 consider what must have been the man's strength1 who1 on a sudden1 passed from such precept to such practice4 #dh4 ,on a sudden it was2 for1 even yet a youth1 and retaining profound respect for all older artist's ways of work1 he followed his own will fearlessly in choice of scene2 and already in the earliest of his coast drawings there are as daring and strange decisions touching the site of the spectator as in his latest works2 lookings down and up into coves and clouds1 as defiant of all former theories touching possible perspective1 or graceful componence of subject1 as1 a few years later1 his system of color was of the theory of the brown tree4 ,nor was the step remarkable merely for its magnitude1--for the amount of progress made in a few years4 ,it was much more notable by its direction4 ,the discovery of the true structure of hill banks had to be made by ,turner1 not merely in advance of the men of his day1 but in contradiction to them4 ,examine the works of contemporary and preceding landscapists1 and it will be found that the universal practice is to make the tops of all cliffs broken and rugged1 their bases smooth and soft1 or concealed with wood4 ,no one had ever observed the contrary structure1 the bank rounded at the top1 and broken on the flank4 ,and yet all the hills of any importance which are met with throughout ,lowland ,europe are1 properly speaking1 high banks1 for the most part following the courses of rivers1 and forming a step from the high ground1 of which the country generally consists1 to the river level4 ,thus almost the whole of ,france1 though1 on the face of it1 flat1 is raised from #cjj to #ejj feet above the level of the sea1 and is traversed by valleys either formed by1 or directing1 the course of its great rivers4 ,in these valleys lie all its principal towns1 surrounded1 almost without exception1 by ranges of hills covered with wood or vineyard4 ,ascending these hills1 we find ourselves at once in an elevated plain1 covered with corn and lines of apple trees1 extending to the next river side1 where we come to the brow of another hill1 and descend to the city and valley beneath it4 ,our own valleys in ,northumberland1 ,yorkshire1 ,derbyshire1 and ,devonshire1 are cut in the same manner through vast extents of elevated land2 the scenery which interests the traveller chiefly1 as he passes through even the most broken parts of those counties1 being simply that of the high banks which rise from the shores of the ,dart or the ,derwent1 the ,wharfe or the ,tees4 ,in all cases1 when these banks are surmounted1 the sensation is one of disappointment1 as the adventurer finds himself1 the moment he has left the edge of the ravine1 in a waste of softly undulating moor or arable land1 hardly deserving the title of hill country4 ,as we advance into the upper districts the fact remains still the same1 although the banks to be climbed are higher1 the ravines grander1 and the intermediate land more broken4 ,the majesty of an isolated peak is still comparatively rare1 and nearly all the most interesting pieces of scenery are glens or passes1 which1 if seen from a height great enough to command them in all their relations1 would be found in reality little more than trenches excavated through broad masses of elevated land1 and expanding at intervals into the wide basins which are occupied by the glittering lake or smiling plain4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ajf4 ,illustration3 ,j4 ,ruskin4 ,j4 ,h4 ,le ,keux4 #dg4 ,the ,quarries of ,carrara4 #di4 ,all these facts had been entirely ignored by artists2 nay1 almost by geologists1 before ,turner's time4 ,he saw them at once2 fathomed them to the uttermost1 and1 partly owing to early association1 partly1 perhaps1 to the natural pleasure of working a new mine discovered by himself1 devoted his best powers to their illustration1 passing by with somewhat less attention the conditions of broken-summited rock1 which had previously been the only ones known4 ,and if we now look back to his treatment of the crest of ,mont ,pilate1 in the figure given at the close of the last chapter1 we shall understand better the nature and strength of the instinct which compelled him to sacrifice the peaked summit1 and to bring the whole mountain within a lower enclosing line4 ,in that figure1 however1 the dotted peak interferes with the perception of the form finally determined upon1 which therefore ,i repeat here 7,fig4 #ajf71 as ,turner gave it in color4 ,the eye may not at first detect the law of ascent in the peaks1 but if the height of any one of them were altered1 the general form would instantly be perceived to be less agreeable4 ,fig4 #ajg shows that they are disposed within an infinite curve1 ,a c1 from which the last crag falls a little to conceal the law1 while the terminal line at the other extremity1 ,a b1 is a minor echo of the whole contour4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ajg4 #ej4 ,i must pause to make one exception to my general statement that this structure had been entirely ignored4 ,the reader was1 perhaps1 surprised by the importance ,i attached to the fragment of mountain background by ,masaccio1 given in ,plate #ac of the third volume4 ,if he looks back to it now1 his surprise will be less4 ,it was a complete recognition of the laws of the lines of aqueous sculpture1 asserted as ,turner's was1 in the boldest opposition to the principles of rock drawing of the time4 ,it presents even smoother and broader masses than any which ,i have shown as types of hill form2 but it must be remembered that ,masaccio had seen only the softer contours of the ,apennine limestone4 ,i have no memorandum by me of the hill lines near ,florence2 but ,plate #dg shows the development of limestone structure1 at a spot which has1 ,i think1 the best right to be given as an example of the ,italian hills1 the head of the valley of ,carrara4 ,the white scar on the hill side is the principal quarry2 and the peaks above deserve observation1 not so much for anything in their forms1 as for the singular barrenness which was noted in the fifteenth chapter of the last volume 7 #h7 as too often occurring in the ,apennines4 ,compare this plate with the previous one4 ,the peak drawn in ,plate #df rises at least #gejj feet above the sea1--yet is wooded to its top2 this ,carrara crag not above #ejjj1ig--yet it is wholly barren4 #ea4 ,masaccio1 however1 as we saw1 was taken away by death before he could give any one of his thoughts complete expression4 ,turner was spared to do his work1 in this respect at least1 completely4 ,it might be thought that1 having had such adverse influence to struggle with1 he would prevail against it but in part2 and1 though showing the way to much that was new1 retain of necessity some old prejudices1 and leave his successors to pursue in purer liberty1 and with happier power1 the path he had pointed out4 ,but it was not so3 he did the work so completely on the ground which he chose to illustrate1 that nothing is left for future artists to accomplish in that kind4 ,some classes of scenery1 as often pointed out in the preceding pages1 he was unfamiliar with1 or held in little affection1 and out of that scenery1 untouched by him1 new motives may be obtained2 but of such landscape as his favorite ,yorkshire ,wolds1 and banks of ,rhenish and ,french hill1 and rocky mountains of ,switzerland1 like the ,st4 ,gothard1 already so long dwelt upon1 he has expressed the power in what ,i believe to be for ever a central and unmatchable way4 ,i do not say this with positiveness1 because it is not demonstrable4 ,turner may be beaten on his own ground--so may ,tintoret1 so may ,shakespeare1 ,dante1 or ,homer3 but my belief is that all these first-rate men are lonely men2 that the particular work they did was by them done for ever in the best way2 and that this work done by ,turner among the hills1 joining the most intense appreciation of all tenderness with delight in all magnitude1 and memory for all detail1 is never to be rivalled1 or looked upon in similitude again4 ,,footnotes #hh ,quantity of curvature is as measurable as quantity of anything else2 only observe that it depends on the nature of the line1 not on its magnitude2 thus1 in simple circular curvature1 a b1 ,fig4 #if1 being the fourth of a large circle1 and b c the half of a smaller one1 the quantity of the element of circular curvature in the entire line a c is three fourths of that in any circle1--the the same as the quantity in the line e f4 ,illustration3 ,,fig #if4 #hi ,the catenary is not properly a curve capable of infinity1 if its direction does not alter with its length2 but it is capable of infinity1 implying such alteration by the infinite removal of the points of suspension4 ,it entirely corresponds in its effect on the eye and mind to the infinite curves4 ,i do not know the exact nature of the apparent curves of suspension formed by a high and weighty waterfall2 they are dependent on the gain in rapidity of descent by the central current1 where its greater body is less arrested by the air2 and ,i apprehend1 are catenary in character1 though not in cause4 #ij ,i am afraid of becoming tiresome by going too far into the intricacies of this most difficult subject2 but ,i say towards the bottom of the hill1 because1 when a certain degree of verticality is reached1 a counter protective influence begins to establish itself1 the stones and waterfalls bounding away from the brow of the precipice into the air1 and wearing it at the top only4 ,also it is evident that when the curvature falls into a vertical cliff1 as often happens1 the maximum of curvature must be somewhere above the brow of the cliff1 as in the cliff itself it has again died into a straight line4 #ia ,the following extract from my private diary1 giving an account of the destruction of the beauty of this waterfall in the year #ahdi1 which ,i happened to witness1 may be interesting to those travellers who remember it before that period4 ,the house spoken of as ,joseph's1 is that of the guide ,joseph ,coutet1 in a village about a mile below the cascade1 between it and the ,arve3 that noticed as of the old avalanche is a hollow in the forest1 cleft by a great avalanche which fell from the ,aiguille du ,midi in the spring of #ahdd4 ,it struck down about a thousand full-grown pines1 and left an open track in the midst of the wood1 from the cascade nearly down to the village4 ,evening1 ,thursday1 ,june #bhth4 ,i set out for the ,cascade des ,plerins as usual2 when we reached ,joseph's house1 we heard a sound from the torrent like low thunder1 or like that of a more distant and heavier fall4 ,a peasant said something to ,joseph1 who stopped to listen1 then nodded1 and said to me1 ',la cascade vient de se dborder4' ,thinking there would be time enough afterwards to ask for explanations1 ,i pushed up the hill almost without asking a question4 ,when we reached the place of the old avalanche1 ,joseph called to me to stop and see the torrent increase4 ,there was at this time a dark cloud on the ,aiguille du ,midi1 down to its base2 the upper part of the torrent was brown1 the lower white1 not larger than usual4 ,the brown part came down1 ,i thought1 with exceeding slowness1 reaching the cascade gradually2 as it did so1 the fall rose to about once and a half its usual height1 and in the five minutes' time that ,i paused 7it could not be more7 turned to the color of slate4 ,i then pushed on as hard as ,i could4 ,when ,i reached the last ascent ,i was obliged to stop for breath1 but got up before the fall could sensibly have diminished in body of water4 ,it was then nearly twice as far cast out from the rock as last night1 and the water nearly black in color2 and it had the appearance1 as it broke and separated at the outer part of the fall1 of a shower of fragments of flat slate4 ,the reason of this appearance ,i could not comprehend1 unless the water was so mixed with mud that it drew out flat and unctuously when it broke2 but so it was3 instead of spray it looked like a shower of dirty flat bits of slate--only with a lustre1 as if they had been wet first4 ,this1 however1 was the least of it1 for the torrent carried with it nearly as much weight of stone as water2 the stones varying in size1 the average being1 ,i suppose1 about that of a hen's egg2 but ,i do not suppose that at any instant the arch of water was without four or five as large as a man's fist1 and often came larger ones1--all vomited forth with the explosive power of a small volcano1 and falling in a continual shower as thick1 constant1 and1 had it not been mixed with the crash of the fall1 as loud as a heavy fire of infantry2 they bounded and leaped in the basin of the fall like hailstones in a thunder-shower4 ,as we watched the fall it seemed convulsively to diminish1 and suddenly showed1 as it shortened1 the rock underneath it1 which ,i could hardly see yesterday3 as ,i cried out to ,joseph it rose again1 higher than ever1 and continued to rise1 till it all but reached the snow on the rock opposite4 ,it then became very fantastic and variable1 increasing and diminishing in the space of two or three seconds1 and partially changing its direction4 ,after watching it for half an hour or so1 ,i determined to try and make some memoranda4 ,coutet brought me up a jug of water3 ,i stooped to dip my brush1 when ,coutet caught my arm1 saying1 ',tenez2' at the same instant ,i heard a blow1 like the going off of a heavy gun1 two or three miles away2 ,i looked up1 and as ,i did1 the cascade sank before my eyes1 and fell back to the rock4 ,neither of us spoke for an instant or two2 then ,coutet said1 ',c'est une pierre1 qui est loge dans le creux1' or words to that effect3 in fact1 he had seen the stone come down as he called to me4 ,i thought also that nothing more had happened1 and watched the destroyed fall only with interest1 until1 as suddenly as it had fallen1 it rose again1 though not to its former height2 and ,coutet1 stooping down1 exclaimed1 ',ce n'est pas a1 le roc est perc2' in effect1 a hole was now distinctly visible in the cup which turned the stream1 through which the water whizzed as from a burst pipe4 ,the cascade1 however1 continued to increase1 until this new channel was concealed1 and ,i was maintaining to ,coutet that he must have been mistaken 7and that the water only struck on the outer rock1 having changed its mode of fall above71 when again it fell2 and the two girls1 who had come up from the chlet1 expressed their opinion at once1 that the 'cascade est finie4' ,this time all was plain2 the water gushed in a violent jet d'eau through the new aperture1 hardly any of it escaping above4 ,it rose again gradually1 as the hole was choked with stones1 and again fell2 but presently sprang out almost to its first elevation 7the water being by this time in much less body71 and retained very nearly the form it had yesterday1 until ,i got tired of looking at it1 and went down to the little chlet1 and sat down before its door4 ,i had not been there five minutes before the cascade fell1 and rose no more4 #ib ,it might be thought at first that the line to which such curves would approximate would be the cycloid1 as the line of quickest descent4 ,but in reality the contour is modified by perpetual sliding of the dbris under the influence of rain2 and by the bounding of detached fragments with continually increased momentum4 ,i was quite unable to get at anything like the expression of a constant law among the examples ,i studied in the ,alps1 except only the great laws of delicacy and changefulness in all curves whatsoever4 #ic ,i owe ,mr4 ,le ,keux sincere thanks1 and not a little admiration1 for the care and skill with which he has followed1 on a much reduced scale1 the detail of this drawing4 #id ,allow ten feet square for average space to each pine2 suppose the valley seen only for five miles of its length1 and the pine district two miles broad on each side--a low estimate of breadth also3 this would give five millions4 #ie ,the white spots on the brow of the little cliff are lichens1 only four or five inches broad4 #if ,what a comfortable1 as well as intelligent1 operation1 sketching from nature must have been in those days6 #ig ,it is not one of the highest points of the ,carrara chain4 ,the chief summits are much more jagged1 and very noble4 ,see ,chap4 ,,xx4 #bj4 ,,chapter ,,xviii4 ,,resulting ,,forms3--,,fifthly1 ,,stones4 #a4 ,it is somewhat singular that the indistinctness of treatment which has been so often noticed as characteristic of our present art shows itself always most when there is least apparent reason for it4 ,modern artists1 having some true sympathy with what is vague in nature1 draw all that is uncertain and evasive without evasion1 and render faithfully whatever can be discerned in faithless mist or mocking vapors2 but having no sympathy with what is solid and serene1 they seem to become uncertain themselves in proportion to the certainty of what they see2 and while they render flakes of far-away cloud1 or fringes of inextricable forest1 with something like patience and fidelity1 give nothing but the hastiest indication of the ground they can tread upon or touch4 ,it is only in modern art that we find any complete representation of clouds1 and only in ancient art that1 generally speaking1 we find any careful realization of ,stones4 #b4 ,this is all the more strange1 because1 as we saw some time back1 the ruggedness of the stone is more pleasing to the modern than the medival1 and he rarely completes any picture satisfactorily to himself unless large spaces of it are filled with irregular masonry1 rocky banks1 or shingly shores3 whereas the medival could conceive no desirableness in the loose and unhewn masses2 associated them generally in his mind with wicked men1 and the ,martyrdom of ,st4 ,stephen2 and always threw them out of his road1 or garden1 to the best of his power4 ,yet with all this difference in predilection1 such was the honesty of the medival1 and so firm his acknowledgment of the necessity to paint completely whatever was to be painted at all1 that there is hardly a strip of earth under the feet of a saint1 in any finished work of the early painters1 but more1 and better painted1 stones are to be found upon it than in an entire exhibition full of modern mountain scenery4 #c4 ,not better painted in every respect4 ,in those interesting and popular treatises on the art of drawing1 which tell the public that their colors should neither be too warm nor too cold1 and that their touches should always be characteristic of the object they are intended to represent1 the directions given for the manufacture of stones usually enforce crispness of outline and roughness of texture4 ,and1 accordingly1 in certain expressions of frangibility1 irregular accumulation1 and easy resting of one block upon another1 together with some conditions of lichenous or mossy texture1 modern stone-painting is far beyond the ancient2 for these are just the characters which first strike the eye1 and enable the foreground to maintain its picturesque influence1 without inviting careful examination4 ,the medival painter1 on the other hand1 not caring for this picturesque general effect1 nor being in anywise familiar with mountain scenery1 perceived in stones1 when he was forced to paint them1 eminently the characters which they had in common with figures2 that is to say1 their curved outlines1 rounded surfaces1 and varieties of delicate color1 and1 accordingly1 was somewhat too apt to lose their angular and fragmentary character in a series of muscular lines resembling those of an anatomical preparation2 for1 although in large rocks the cleavable or frangible nature was the thing that necessarily struck him most1 the pebbles under his feet were apt to be oval or rounded in the localities of almost all the important schools of ,italy4 ,in ,lombardy1 the mass of the ground is composed of nothing but ,alpine gravel1 consisting of rolled oval pebbles1 on the average about six inches long by four wide--awkward building materials1 yet used in ingenious alternation with the bricks in all the lowland ,italian fortresses4 ,besides this universal rotundity1 the qualities of stones which rendered them valuable to the lapidary were forced on the painter's attention by the familiar arts of inlaying and mosaic4 ,hence1 in looking at a pebble1 his mind was divided between its roundness and its veins2 and ,leonardo covers the shelves of rock under the feet of ,st4 ,anne with variegated agates2 while ,mantegna often strews the small stones about his mountain caves in a polished profusion1 as if some repentant martyr princess had been just scattering her caskets of pearls into the dust4 #d4 ,some years ago1 as ,i was talking of the curvilinear forms in a piece of rock to one of our academicians1 he said to me1 in a somewhat despondent accent1 ,if you look for curves1 you will see curves2 if you look for angles1 you will see angles4 ,the saying appeared to me an infinitely sad one4 ,it was the utterance of an experienced man2 and in many ways true1 for one of the most singular gifts1 or1 if abused1 most singular weaknesses1 of the human mind is its power of persuading itself to see whatever it chooses2--a great gift1 if directed to the discernment of the things needful and pertinent to its own work and being2 a great weakness1 if directed to the discovery of things profitless or discouraging4 ,in all things throughout the world1 the men who look for the crooked will see the crooked1 and the men who look for the straight will see the straight4 ,but yet the saying was a notably sad one2 for it came of the conviction in the speaker's mind that there was in reality no crooked and no straight2 that all so called discernment was fancy1 and that men might1 with equal rectitude of judgment1 and good-deserving of their fellow-men1 perceive and paint whatever was convenient to them4 #e4 ,whereas things may always be seen truly by candid people1 though never completely4 ,no human capacity ever yet saw the whole of a thing2 but we may see more and more of it the longer we look4 ,every individual temper will see something different in it3 but supposing the tempers honest1 all the differences are there4 ,every advance in our acuteness of perception will show us something new2 but the old and first discerned thing will still be there1 not falsified1 only modified and enriched by the new perceptions1 becoming continually more beautiful in its harmony with them and more approved as a part of the ,infinite truth4 #f4 ,there are no natural objects out of which more can be thus learned than out of stones4 ,they seem to have been created especially to reward a patient observer4 ,nearly all other objects in nature can be seen1 to some extent1 without patience1 and are pleasant even in being half seen4 ,trees1 clouds1 and rivers are enjoyable even by the careless2 but the stone under his foot has for carelessness nothing in it but stumbling2 no pleasure is languidly to be had out of it1 nor food1 nor good of any kind2 nothing but symbolism of the hard heart and the unfatherly gift4 ,and yet1 do but give it some reverence and watchfulness1 and there is bread of thought in it1 more than in any other lowly feature of all the landscape4 #g4 ,for a stone1 when it is examined1 will be found a mountain in miniature4 ,the fineness of ,nature's work is so great1 that1 into a single block1 a foot or two in diameter1 she can compress as many changes of form and structure1 on a small scale1 as she needs for her mountains on a large one2 and1 taking moss for forests1 and grains of crystal for crags1 the surface of a stone1 in by far the plurality of instances1 is more interesting than the surface of an ordinary hill2 more fantastic in form and incomparably richer in color1--the last quality being1 in fact1 so noble in most stones of good birth 7that is to say1 fallen from the crystalline mountain-ranges71 that ,i shall be less able to illustrate this part of my subject satisfactorily by means of engraving than perhaps any other1 except the color of skies4 ,i say1 shall be less able1 because the beauty of stone surface is in so great a degree dependent on the mosses and lichens which root themselves upon it1 that ,i must place my richest examples in the section on vegetation4 ,for instance1 in the plate opposite1 though the mass of rock is large and somewhat distant1 the effect of it is as much owing to the white spots of silvery lichen in the centre and left1 and to the flowing lines in which the darker mosses1 growing in the cranny1 have arranged themselves beyond1 as to the character of the rock itself2 nor could the beauty of the whole mass be explained1 if we were to approach the least nearer1 without more detailed drawing of this vegetation4 ,for the present ,i shall only give a few examples of the drawing of stones roughly broken1 or worn so as not to be materially affected by vegetation4 ,illustration3 #dh4 ,bank of ,slaty ,crystallines4 #h4 ,we have already seen an example of ,titian's treatment of mountain crests as compared with ,turner's2 here is a parallel instance1 from ,titian1 of stones in the bed of a torrent 7,fig4 #ajh71 in many ways good and right1 and expressing in its writhed and variously broken lines far more of real stone structure than the common water-color dash of the moderns4 ,observe1 especially1 how ,titian has understood that the fracture of the stone more or less depends on the undulating grain of its crystalline structure1 following the cavity of the largest stone in the middle of the figure1 with concentric lines2 and compare in ,plate #ba the top of ,turner's largest stones on the left4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ajh4 #i4 ,if the reader sees nothing in this drawing 7,fig4 #ajh7 that he can like1--although1 indeed1 ,i would have him prefer the work of ,turner1--let him be assured that he does not yet understand on what ,titian's reputation is founded4 ,no painter's name is oftener in the mouth of the ordinary connoisseur1 and no painter was ever less understood4 ,his power of color is indeed perfect1 but so is ,bonifazio's4 ,titian's supremacy above all the other ,venetians1 except ,tintoret and ,veronese1 consists in the firm truth of his portraiture1 and more or less masterly understanding of the nature of stones1 trees1 men1 or whatever else he took in hand to paint2 so that1 without some correlative understanding in the spectator1 ,titian's work1 in its highest qualities1 must be utterly dead and unappealing to him4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #aji4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #aaj4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #aaa4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #aab4 #aj4 ,i give one more example from the lower part of the same print 7,fig4 #aji71 in which a stone1 with an eddy round it1 is nearly as well drawn as it can be in the simple method of the early wood-engraving4 ,perhaps the reader will feel its truth better by contrast with a fragment or two of modern ,idealism4 ,here1 for instance 7,fig4 #aaj71 is a group of stones1 highly entertaining in their variety of form1 out of the subject of ,christian vanquishing ,apollyon1 in the outlines to the ,pilgrim's ,progress1 published by the ,art-,union1 the idealism being here wrought to a pitch of extraordinary brilliancy by the exciting nature of the subject4 ,next 7,fig4 #aaa7 is another poetical conception1 one of ,flaxman's1 representing the eddies and stones of the ,pool of ,envy 7,flaxman's ,dante71 which may be conveniently compared with the ,titianesque stones and streams4 ,and1 finally1 ,fig4 #aab represents1 also on ,flaxman's authority1 those stones of an ,alpine character1 of which ,dante says that he ,climbed with heart of proof the adverse steep4 ,it seems at first curious that every one of the forms that ,flaxman has chanced upon should be an impossible one--a form which a stone never could assume3 but this is the ,nemesis of false idealism1 and the inevitable one4 #aa4 ,the chief incapacity in the modern work is not1 however1 so much in its outline1 though that is wrong enough1 as in the total absence of any effort to mark the surface roundings4 ,it is not the outline of a stone1 however true1 that will make it solid or heavy2 it is the interior markings1 and thoroughly understood perspectives of its sides4 ,in the opposite plate the upper two subjects are by ,turner1 foregrounds out of the ,liber ,studiorum 7,source of ,arveron1 and ,ben ,arthur72 the lower by ,claude1 ,liber ,veritatis1 ,no4 #e4 ,i think the reader cannot but feel that the blocks in the upper two subjects are massy and ponderous2 in the lower1 wholly without weight4 ,if he examine their several treatment1 he will find that ,turner has perfect imaginative conception of every recess and projection over the whole surface1 and feels the stone as he works over it2 every touch1 moreover1 being full of tender gradation4 ,but ,claude1 as he is obliged to hold to his outline in hills1 so also clings to it in the stones1--cannot round them in the least1 leaves their light surfaces wholly blank1 and puts a few patches of dark here and there about their edges1 as chance will have it4 ,illustration3 #di4 ,truth and ,untruth of ,stones4 #ab4 ,turner's way of wedging the stones of the glacier moraine together in strength of disorder1 in the upper subject1 and his indication of the springing of the wild stems and leafage out of the rents in the boulders of the lower one1 will hardly be appreciated unless the reader is fondly acquainted with the kind of scenery in question2 and ,i cannot calculate on this being often the case1 for few persons ever look at any near detail closely1 and perhaps least of all at the heaps of dbris which so often seem to encumber and disfigure mountain ground4 ,but for the various reasons just stated 7 #g71 ,turner found more material for his power1 and more excitement to his invention1 among the fallen stones than in the highest summits of mountains2 and his early designs1 among their thousand excellences and singularities1 as opposed to all that had preceded them1 count for not one of the least the elaborate care given to the drawing of torrent beds1 shaly slopes1 and other conditions of stony ground which all canons of art at the period pronounced inconsistent with dignity of composition2 a convenient principle1 since1 of all foregrounds1 one of loose stones is beyond comparison the most difficult to draw with any approach to realization4 ,the ,turnerian subjects1 ,junction of the ,greta and ,tees 7,yorkshire ,series1 and illustrations to ,scott72 ,wycliffe1 near ,rokeby 7,yorkshire72 ,hardraw ,fall 7,yorkshire72 ,ben ,arthur 7,liber ,studiorum72 ,ulleswater and the magnificent drawing of the ,upper ,fall of the ,tees 7,england ,series71 are sufficiently illustrative of what ,i mean4 #ac4 ,it is not1 however1 only1 in their separate condition1 as materials of foreground1 that we have to examine the effect of stones2 they form a curiously important element of distant landscape in their aggregation on a large scale4 ,it will be remembered that in the course of the last chapter we wholly left out of our account of mountain lines that group which was called ,lines of ,rest4 ,one reason for doing so was that1 as these lines are produced by dbris in a state of temporary repose1 their beauty1 or deformity1 or whatever character they may possess1 is properly to be considered as belonging to stones rather than to rocks4 #ad4 ,whenever heaps of loose stones or sand are increased by the continual fall of fresh fragments from above1 or diminished by their removal from below1 yet not in such mass or with such momentum as entirely to disturb those already accumulated1 the materials on the surface arrange themselves in an equable slope1 producing a straight line of profile in the bank or cone4 ,the heap formed by the sand falling in an hour-glass presents1 in its straight sides1 the simplest result of such a condition2 and any heap of sand thrown up by the spade will show the slopes here and there1 interrupted only by knotty portions1 held together by moisture1 or agglutinated by pressure1--interruptions which cannot occur to the same extent on a large scale1 unless the soil is really hardened nearly to the nature of rock4 ,as long as it remains incoherent1 every removal of substance at the bottom of the heap1 or addition of it at the top1 occasions a sliding disturbance of the whole slope1 which smooths it into rectitude of line2 and there is hardly any great mountain mass among the ,alps which does not show towards its foundation perfectly regular descents of this nature1 often two or three miles long without a break4 ,several of considerable extent are seen on the left of ,plate #df4 #ae4 ,i call these lines of rest1 because1 though the bulk of the mass may be continually increasing or diminishing1 the line of the profile does not change1 being fixed at a certain angle by the nature of the earth4 ,it is usually stated carelessly as an angle of about #de degrees1 but it never really reaches such a slope4 ,i measured carefully the angles of a very large number of slopes of mountain in various parts of the ,mont ,blanc district4 ,the few examples given in the note below are enough to exhibit the general fact that loose dbris lies at various angles up to about #cj or #cb2 dbris protected by grass or pines may reach #ce1 and rocky slopes #dj or #da1 but in continuous lines of rest ,i never found a steeper angle4#ih #af4 ,i speak of some rocky slopes as lines of rest1 because1 whenever a mountain side is composed of soft stone which splits and decomposes fast1 it has a tendency to choke itself up with the ruins1 and gradually to get abraded or ground down towards the dbris slope2 so that vast masses of the sides of ,alpine valleys are formed by ascents of nearly uniform inclination1 partly loose1 partly of jagged rocks1 which break1 but do not materially alter the general line of ground4 ,in such cases the fragments usually have accumulated without disturbance at the foot of the slope1 and the pine forests fasten the soil and prevent it from being carried down in large masses4 ,but numerous instances occur in which the mountain is consumed away gradually by its own torrents1 not having strength enough to form clefts or precipices1 but falling on each side of the ravines into even banks1 which slide down from above as they are wasted below4 #ag4 ,by all these various expedients1 ,nature secures1 in the midst of her mountain curvatures1 vast series of perfectly straight lines opposing and relieving them2 lines1 however1 which artists have almost universally agreed to alter or ignore1 partly disliking them intrinsically1 on account of their formality1 and partly because the mind instantly associates them with the idea of mountain decay4 ,turner1 however1 saw that this very decay having its use and nobleness1 the contours which were significative of it ought no more to be omitted than1 in the portrait of an aged man1 the furrows on his hand or brow2 besides1 he liked the lines themselves1 for their contrast with the mountain wildness1 just as he liked the straightness of sunbeams penetrating the soft waywardness of clouds4 ,he introduced them constantly into his noblest compositions2 but in order to the full understanding of their employment in the instance ,i am about to give1 one or two more points yet need to be noticed4 #ah4 ,generally speaking1 the curved lines of convex1 fall belong to mountains of hard rock1 over whose surfaces the fragments bound to the valley1 and which are worn by wrath of avalanches and wildness of torrents1 like that of the ,cascade des ,plerins1 described in the note above4 ,generally speaking1 the straight lines of rest belong to softer mountains1 or softer surfaces and places of mountains1 which1 exposed to no violent wearing from external force1 nevertheless keep slipping and mouldering down spontaneously or receiving gradual accession of material from incoherent masses above them4 #ai4 ,it follows1 rather1 that where the gigantic wearing forces are in operation1 the stones or fragments of rock brought down by the torrents and avalanches are likely1 however hard1 to be rounded on all their edges2 but where the straight shaly slopes are found1 the stones which glide or totter down their surfaces frequently retain all their angles1 and form jagged and flaky heaps at the bottom4 ,and farther1 it is to be supposed that the rocks which are habitually subjected to these colossal forces of destruction are in their own mass firm and secure1 otherwise they would long ago have given way2 but that where the gliding and crumbling surfaces are found without much external violence1 it is very possible that the whole framework of the mountain may be full of flaws2 and a danger exist of vast portions of its mass giving way1 or slipping down in heaps1 as the sand suddenly yields in an hour-glass after some moments of accumulation4 #bj4 ,hence1 generally1 in the mind of any one familiar with mountains1 the conditions will be associated1 on the one hand1 of the curved1 convex1 and overhanging bank or cliff1 the roaring torrent1 and the rounded boulder of massive stone2 and1 on the other1 of the straight and even slope of bank1 the comparatively quiet and peaceful lapse of streams1 and the sharp-edged and unworn look of the fallen stones1 together with a sense of danger greater1 though more occult1 than in the wilder scenery4 ,illustration3 ,j4 ,m4 ,w4 ,turner ,j4 ,cousen4 #ej4 ,goldau4 ,the drawing of the ,st4 ,gothard1 which we have so laboriously analyzed1 was designed1 as before mentioned1 from a sketch taken in the year #ahdc4 ,but with it was made another drawing4 ,turner brought home in that year a series of sketches taken in the neighborhood of the pass2 among others1 one of the ,valley of ,goldau1 covered as it is by the ruins of the ,rossberg4 ,knowing his fondness for fallen stones1 ,i chose this ,goldau subject as a companion to the ,st4 ,gothard4 ,the plate opposite will give some idea of the resultant drawing4 #ba4 ,some idea only4 ,it is a subject which1 like the ,st4 ,gothard1 is far too full of detail to admit of reduction2 and ,i hope1 therefore1 soon to engrave it properly of its real size4 ,it is1 besides1 more than usually difficult to translate this drawing into black and white1 because much of the light on the clouds is distinguished merely by orange or purple color from the green greys1 which1 though not darker than the warm hues1 have the effect of shade from their coldness1 but cannot be marked as shade in the engraving without too great increase of depth4 ,enough1 however1 has been done to give some idea of the elements of ,turner's design4 #bb4 ,detailed accounts of the ,rossberg ,fall may be found in any ordinary ,swiss ,guide2 the only points we have to notice respecting it are1 that the mountain was composed of an indurated gravel1 disposed in oblique beds sloping towards the valley4 ,a portion of one of these beds gave way1 and half filled the valley beneath1 burying five villages1 together with the principal one of ,goldau1 and partially choking up a little lake1 the streamlets which supplied it now forming irregular pools among the fallen fragments4 ,i call the rock1 and accurately1 indurated gravel2 but the induration is so complete that the mass breaks through the rolled pebbles chiefly composing it1 and may be considered as a true rock1 only always in its blocks rugged and formless when compared with the crystalline formations4 ,turner has chosen his position on some of the higher heaps of ruin1 looking down towards the ,lake of ,zug1 which is seen under the sunset1 the spire of the tower of ,aart on its shore just relieved against the light of the waves4 ,the ,rossberg itself1 never steep1 and still more reduced in terror by the fall of a portion of it1 was not available to him as a form explanatory of the catastrophe2 and even the slopes of the ,righi on the left are not1 in reality1 as uninterrupted in their slope as he has drawn them2 but he felt the connection of this structure with the ruin amidst which he stood1 and brought the long lines of danger clear against the sunset1 and as straight as its own retiring rays4 #bc4 ,if the reader will now glance back to the ,st4 ,gothard subject1 as illustrated in the two ,plates #ba and #cg1 and compare it with this of ,goldau1 keeping in mind the general conclusions about the two great classes of mountain scenery which ,i have just stated1 he will1 ,i hope1 at last cease to charge me with enthusiasm in anything that ,i have said of ,turner's imagination1 as always instinctively possessive of those truths which lie deepest1 and are most essentially linked together1 in the expression of a scene4 ,i have only taken two drawings 7though these of his best period7 for the illustration of all the structures of the ,alps which1 in the course of half a volume1 it has been possible for me to explain2 and all my half-volume is abstracted in these two drawings1 and that in the most consistent and complete way1 as if they had been made on purpose to contain a perfect summary of ,alpine truth4 #bd4 ,there are one or two points connected with them of yet more touching interest4 ,they are the last drawings which ,turner ever made with unabated power4 ,the one of the ,st4 ,gothard1 speaking with strict accuracy1 is the last drawing2 for that of ,goldau1 though majestic to the utmost in conception1 is less carefully finished1 and shows1 in the execution of parts of the sky1 signs of impatience1 caused by the first feeling of decline of strength4 ,therefore ,i called the ,st4 ,gothard 7,vol4 ,,iii4 ,ch4 ,,xv4 #e7 the last mountain drawing he ever executed with perfect power4 ,but the ,goldau is still a noble companion to it--more solemn in thought1 more sublime in color1 and1 in certain points of poetical treatment1 especially characteristic of the master's mind in earlier days4 ,he was very definitely in the habit of indicating the association of any subject with circumstances of death1 especially the death of multitudes1 by placing it under one of his most deeply crimsoned sunset skies4 ,the color of blood is this plainly taken for the leading tone in the storm-clouds above the ,slave-ship4 ,it occurs with similar distinctness in the much earlier picture of ,ulysses and ,polypheme1 in that of ,napoleon at ,st4 ,helena1 and1 subdued by softer hues1 in the ,old ,tmeraire4 ,the sky of this ,goldau is1 in its scarlet and crimson1 the deepest in tone of all that ,i know in ,turner's drawings4 ,another feeling traceable in several of its former works1 is an acute sense of the contrast between the careless interests and idle pleasures of daily life1 and the state of those whose time for labor1 or knowledge1 or delight is passed for ever4 ,there is evidence of this feeling in the introduction of the boys at play in the churchyard of ,kirkby ,lonsdale1 and the boy climbing for his kite among the thickets above the little mountain churchyard of ,brignal-banks2 it is in the same tone of thought that he has placed here the two figures fishing1 leaning against these shattered flanks of rock1--the sepulchral stones of the great mountain ,field of ,death4 #be4 ,another character of these two drawings1 which gives them especial interest as connected with our inquiries into medival landscape1 is1 that they are precisely and accurately illustrative of the two principal ideas of ,dante about the ,alps4 ,i have already explained the rise of the first drawing out of ,turner's early study of the ,male ,bolge of the ,splugen and ,st4 ,gothard4 ,the ,goldau1 on the other hand1 might have been drawn in purposeful illustration of the lines before referred to 7,vol4 ,,iii4 ,ch4 ,,xv4 #ac7 as descriptive of a loco ,alpestro4 ,i give now ,dante's own words3 ,qual' quella ruina1 che nel fianco ,di qu da ,trento l',adice percosse1 ,o per tremuoto1 o per sostegni manco1 ,che da cima del monte1 onde si mosse1 ,al piano s la roccia discoscesa ,che alcuna via darebbe a chi su fosse2 ,cotal di quel burrato era la scesa4 ,as is that landslip1 ere you come to ,trent1 ,that smote the flank of ,adige1 through some stay ,sinking beneath it1 or by earthquake rent2 ,for from the summit1 where of old it lay1 ,plainwards the broken rock unto the feet ,of one above it might afford some way2 ,such path adown this precipice we meet4 ,,cayley4 #bf4 ,finally1 there are two lessons to be gathered from the opposite conditions of mountain decay1 represented in these designs1 of perhaps a wider range of meaning than any which were suggested even by the states of mountain strength4 ,in the first1 we find the unyielding rock1 undergoing no sudden danger1 and capable of no total fall1 yet1 in its hardness of heart1 worn away by perpetual trampling of torrent waves1 and stress of wandering storm4 ,its fragments1 fruitless and restless1 are tossed into ever-changing heaps3 no labor of man can subdue them to his service1 nor can his utmost patience secure any dwelling-place among them4 ,in this they are the type of all that humanity which1 suffering under no sudden punishment or sorrow1 remains stony ground1 afflicted1 indeed1 continually by minor and vexing cares1 but only broken by them into fruitless ruin of fatigued life4 ,of this ground not corn-giving1--this rough valley1 neither eared nor sown1#ii of the common world1 it is said1 to those who have set up their idols in the wreck of it-- ,among the smooth stones of the stream is thy portion4 ,they1 they are thy lot4#ajj ,but1 as we pass beneath the hills which have been shaken by earthquake and torn by convulsion1 we find that periods of perfect repose succeeded those of destruction4 ,the pools of calm water lie clear beneath their fallen rocks1 the water-lilies gleam1 and the reeds whisper among their shadows2 the village rises again over the forgotten graves1 and its church-tower1 white through the storm-twilight1 proclaims a renewed appeal to ,his protection in whose hand are all the corners of the earth1 and the strength of the hills is ,his also4 ,there is no loveliness of ,alpine valley that does not teach the same lesson4 ,it is just where the mountain falling cometh to naught1 and the rock is removed out of his place1 that1 in process of years1 the fairest meadows bloom between the fragments1 the clearest rivulets murmur from their crevices among the flowers1 and the clustered cottages1 each sheltered beneath some strength of mossy stone1 now to be removed no more1 and with their pastured flocks around them1 safe from the eagle's stoop and the wolf's ravin1 have written upon their fronts1 in simple words1 the mountaineer's faith in the ancient promise-- ,neither shalt thou be afraid of destruction when it cometh2 ,for thou shalt be in league with the ,stones of the ,field2 and the beasts of the field shall be at peace with thee4 ,,footnotes #ih ,small fragments of limestone1 five or six inches across1 and flattish1 sharp1 angular on edges1 and quite loose2 slope near fountain of ,maglans #ca ,somewhat larger stones1 nearer ,maglans2 quite loose #ca ,similar dbris1 slightly touched with vegetation #ce ,dbris on southern side of ,maglans #cc ,slope of ,montagne de la ,cte1 at the bottom1 as seen from the village of ,chamouni #dj ,average slope of ,montagne de ,taconay1 seen from ,chamouni #ch ,maximum slope of side of ,breven #da ,slope of dbris from ravine of ,breven down to the village of ,chamouni #ad ,slopes of dbris set with pines under ,aiguille ,verte1 seen from ,argentire #cf ,general slope of ,tapia1 from ,argentire #cd ,slopes of ,la ,cte and ,taconay1 from ,argentire #bg ,profile of ,breven1 from near the ,chapeau 7a point commanding the valley of ,chamouni in its truest longitude7 #cb ,average slope of ,montanvert1 from same point #ci ,slope of ,la ,cte1 same point #cf ,eastern slope of ,pain de ,sucre1 seen from ,vevay #cc ,western #cf ,slope of foot of ,dent de ,morcles1 seen from ,vevay #ch ,midi1 #dj #ii ,deut4 xxi4 #d4 ,so ,amos1 vi4 #ab3 ,shall horses run upon the rock2 will one plow here with oxen8 #ajj ,is4 lvii4 #e1 #f4 ,,chapter ,,xix4 ,,the ,,mountain ,,gloom4 #a4 ,we have now cursorily glanced over those conditions of mountain structure which appear constant in duration1 and universal in extent2 and we have found them1 invariably1 calculated for the delight1 the advantage1 or the teaching of men2 prepared1 it seems1 so as to contain1 alike in fortitude or feebleness1 in timeliness or in terror1 some beneficence of gift1 or profoundness of counsel4 ,we have found that where at first all seemed disturbed and accidental1 the most tender laws were appointed to produce forms of perpetual beauty2 and that where to the careless or cold observer it seemed severe or purposeless1 the well-being of man has been chiefly consulted1 and his rightly directed powers1 and sincerely awakened intelligence1 may find wealth in every falling rock1 and wisdom in every talking wave4 ,it remains for us to consider what actual effect upon the human race has been produced by the generosity1 or the instruction of the hills2 how far1 in past ages1 they have been thanked1 or listened to2 how far1 in coming ages1 it may be well for us to accept them for tutors1 or acknowledge them for friends4 #b4 ,what they have already taught us may1 one would think1 be best discerned in the midst of them1--in some place where they have had their own way with the human soul2 where no veil has been drawn between it and them1 no contradicting voice has confused their ministries of sound1 or broken their pathos of silence3 where war has never streaked their streams with bloody foam1 nor ambition sought for other throne than their cloud-courtiered pinnacles1 nor avarice for other treasure than1 year by year1 is given to their unlaborious rocks1 in budded jewels1 and mossy gold4 #c4 ,i do not know any district possessing more pure or uninterrupted fulness of mountain character 7and that of the highest order71 or which appears to have been less disturbed by foreign agencies1 than that which borders the course of the ,trient between ,valorsine and ,martigny4 ,the paths which lead to it out of the valley of the ,rhone1 rising at first in steep circles among the walnut trees1 like winding stairs among the pillars of a ,gothic tower1 retire over the shoulders of the hills into a valley almost unknown1 but thickly inhabited by an industrious and patient population4 ,along the ridges of the rocks1 smoothed by old glaciers into long1 dark1 billowy swellings1 like the backs of plunging dolphins1 the peasant watches the slow coloring of the tufts of moss and roots of herb which1 little by little1 gather a feeble soil over the iron substance2 then1 supporting the narrow strip of clinging ground with a few stones1 he subdues it to the spade2 and in a year or two a little crest of corn is seen waving upon the rocky casque4 ,the irregular meadows run in and out like inlets of lake among these harvested rocks1 sweet with perpetual streamlets1 that seem always to have chosen the steepest places to come down1 for the sake of the leaps1 scattering their handfuls of crystal this way and that1 as the wind takes them1 with all the grace1 but with none of the formalism1 of fountains2 dividing into fanciful change of dash and spring1 yet with the seal of their granite channels upon them1 as the lightest play of human speech may bear the seal of past toil1 and closing back out of their spray to lave the rigid angles1 and brighten with silver fringes and glassy films each lower and lower step of sable stone2 until at last1 gathered altogether again1--except1 perhaps1 some chance drops caught on the apple-blossom1 where it has budded a little nearer the cascade than it did last spring1--they find their way down to the turf1 and lose themselves in that silently2 with quiet depth of clear water furrowing among the grass blades1 and looking only like their shadow1 but presently emerging again in little startled gushes and laughing hurries1 as if they had remembered suddenly that the day was too short for them to get down the hill4 ,green field1 and glowing rock1 and glancing streamlet1 all slope together in the sunshine towards the brows of the ravines1 where the pines take up their own dominion of saddened shade2 and with everlasting roar in the twilight1 the stronger torrents thunder down pale from the glaciers1 filling all their chasms with enchanted cold1 beating themselves to pieces against the great rocks that they have themselves cast down1 and forcing fierce way beneath their ghastly poise4 ,the mountain paths stoop to these glens in forky zigzags1 leading to some grey and narrow arch1 all fringed under its shuddering curve with the ferns that fear the light2 a cross of rough-hewn pine1 iron-bound to its parapet1 standing dark against the lurid fury of the foam4 ,far up the glen1 as we pause beside the cross1 the sky is seen through the openings in the pines1 thin with excess of light2 and1 in its clear1 consuming flame of white space1 the summits of the rocky mountains are gathered into solemn crowns and circlets1 all flushed in that strange1 faint silence of possession by the sunshine which has in it so deep a melancholy2 full of power1 yet as frail as shadows2 lifeless1 like the walls of a sepulchre1 yet beautiful in tender fall of crimson folds1 like the veil of some sea spirit1 that lives and dies as the foam flashes2 fixed on a perpetual throne1 stern against all strength1 lifted above all sorrow1 and yet effaced and melted utterly into the air by that last sunbeam that has crossed to them from between the two golden clouds4 #d4 ,high above all sorrow3 yes2 but not unwitnessing to it4 ,the traveller on his happy journey1 as his foot springs from the deep turf and strikes the pebbles gayly over the edge of the mountain road1 sees with a glance of delight the clusters of nut-brown cottages that nestle among those sloping orchards1 and glow beneath the boughs of the pines4 ,here1 it may well seem to him1 if there be sometimes hardship1 there must be at least innocence and peace1 and fellowship of the human soul with nature4 ,it is not so4 ,the wild goats that leap along those rocks have as much passion of joy in all that fair work of ,god as the men that toil among them4 ,perhaps more4 ,enter the street of one of those villages1 and you will find it foul with that gloomy foulness that is suffered only by torpor1 or by anguish of soul4 ,here1 it is torpor--not absolute suffering1--not starvation or disease1 but darkness of calm enduring2 the spring known only as the time of the scythe1 and the autumn as the time of the sickle1 and the sun only as a warmth1 the wind as a chill1 and the mountains as a danger4 ,they do not understand so much as the name of beauty1 or of knowledge4 ,they understand dimly that of virtue4 ,love1 patience1 hospitality1 faith1--these things they know4 ,to glean their meadows side by side1 so happier2 to bear the burden up the breathless mountain flank1 unmurmuringly2 to bid the stranger drink from their vessel of milk2 to see at the foot of their low deathbeds a pale figure upon a cross1 dying also1 patiently2--in this they are different from the cattle and from the stones1 but in all this unrewarded as far as concerns the present life4 ,for them1 there is neither hope nor passion of spirit2 for them neither advance nor exultation4 ,black bread1 rude roof1 dark night1 laborious day1 weary arm at sunset2 and life ebbs away4 ,no books1 no thoughts1 no attainments1 no rest2 except only sometimes a little sitting in the sun under the church wall1 as the bell tolls thin and far in the mountain air2 a pattering of a few prayers1 not understood1 by the altar rails of the dimly gilded chapel1 and so back to the sombre home1 with the cloud upon them still unbroken--that cloud of rocky gloom1 born out of the wild torrents and ruinous stones1 and unlightened1 even in their religion1 except by the vague promise of some better thing unknown1 mingled with threatening1 and obscured by an unspeakable horror1--a smoke1 as it were1 of martyrdom1 coiling up with the incense1 and1 amidst the images of tortured bodies and lamenting spirits in hurtling flames1 the very cross1 for them1 dashed more deeply than for others1 with gouts of blood4 #e4 ,do not let this be thought a darkened picture of the life of these mountaineers4 ,it is literal fact4 ,no contrast can be more painful than that between the dwelling of any well-conducted ,english cottager1 and that of the equally honest ,savoyard4 ,the one1 set in the midst of its dull flat fields and uninteresting hedgerows1 shows in itself the love of brightness and beauty2 its daisy-studded garden beds1 its smoothly swept brick path to the threshold1 its freshly sanded floor and orderly shelves of household furniture1 all testify to energy of heart1 and happiness in the simple course and simple possessions of daily life4 ,the other cottage1 in the midst of an inconceivable1 inexpressible beauty1 set on some sloping bank of golden sward1 with clear fountains flowing beside it1 and wild flowers1 and noble trees1 and goodly rocks gathered round into a perfection as of ,paradise1 is itself a dark and plague-like stain in the midst of the gentle landscape4 ,within a certain distance of its threshold the ground is foul and cattle-trampled2 its timbers are black with smoke1 its garden choked with weeds and nameless refuse1 its chambers empty and joyless1 the light and wind gleaming and filtering through the crannies of their stones4 ,all testifies that to its inhabitant the world is labor and vanity2 that for him neither flowers bloom1 nor birds sing1 nor fountains glisten2 and that his soul hardly differs from the grey cloud that coils and dies upon his hills2 except in having no fold of it touched by the sunbeams4 #f4 ,is it not strange to reflect1 that hardly an evening passes in ,london or ,paris but one of those cottages is painted for the better amusement of the fair and idle1 and shaded with pasteboard pines by the scene-shifter2 and that good and kind people1--poetically minded1--delight themselves in imagining the happy life led by peasants who dwell by ,alpine fountains1 and kneel to crosses upon peaks of rock8 that nightly we lay down our gold to fashion forth simulacra of peasants1 in gay ribands and white bodices1 singing sweet songs1 and bowing gracefully to the picturesque crosses2 and all the while the veritable peasants are kneeling1 songlessly1 to veritable crosses1 in another temper than the kind and fair audiences dream of1 and assuredly with another kind of answer than is got out of the opera catastrophe2 an answer having reference1 it may be1 in dim futurity1 to those very audiences themselves8 ,if all the gold that has gone to paint the simulacra of the cottages1 and to put new songs in the mouths of the simulacra of the peasants1 had gone to brighten the existent cottages1 and to put new songs into the mouths of the existent peasants1 it might in the end1 perhaps1 have turned out better so1 not only for the peasants1 but for even the audience4 ,for that form of the ,false ,ideal has also its correspondent ,true ,ideal1--consisting not in the naked beauty of statues1 nor in the gauze flowers and crackling tinsel of theatres1 but in the clothed and fed beauty of living men1 and in the lights and laughs of happy homes4 ,night after night1 the desire of such an ideal springs up in every idle human heart2 and night after night1 as far as idleness can1 we work out this desire in costly lies4 ,we paint the faded actress1 build the lath landscape1 feed our benevolence with fallacies of felicity1 and satisfy our righteousness with poetry of justice4 ,the time will come when1 as the heavy-folded curtain falls upon our own stage of life1 we shall begin to comprehend that the justice we loved was intended to have been done in fact1 and not in poetry1 and the felicity we sympathized in1 to have been bestowed and not feigned4 ,we talk much of money's worth1 yet perhaps may one day be surprised to find that what the wise and charitable ,european public gave to one night's rehearsal of hypocrisy1--to one hour's pleasant warbling of ,linda or ,lucia1--would have filled a whole ,alpine ,valley with happiness1 and poured the waves of harvest over the famine of many a ,lammermoor4#aja #g4 ,nay1 perhaps the reader answers1 it is vain to hope that this could ever be4 ,the perfect beauty of the ideal must always be fictitious4 ,it is rational to amuse ourselves with the fair imagination2 but it would be madness to endeavor to put it into practice1 in the face of the ordinances of ,nature4 ,real shepherdesses must always be rude1 and real peasants miserable2 suffer us to turn away our gentle eyes from their coarseness and their pain1 and to seek comfort in cultivated voices and purchased smiles4 ,we cannot hew down the rocks1 nor turn the sands of the torrent into gold4 #h4 ,this is no answer4 ,be assured of the great truth--that what is impossible in reality is ridiculous in fancy4 ,if it is not in the nature of things that peasants should be gentle and happy1 then the imagination of such peasantry is ridiculous1 and to delight in such imagination wrong2 as delight in any kind of falsehood is always4 ,but if in the nature of things it be possible that among the wildness of hills the human heart should be refined1 and if the comfort of dress1 and the gentleness of language1 and the joy of progress in knowledge1 and of variety in thought1 are possible to the mountaineer in his true existence1 let us strive to write this true poetry upon the rocks before we indulge it in our visions1 and try whether1 among all the fine arts1 one of the finest be not that of painting cheeks with health rather than rouge4 #i4 ,but is such refinement possible8 ,do not the conditions of the mountain peasant's life1 in the plurality of instances1 necessarily forbid it8 ,as bearing sternly on this question1 it is necessary to examine one peculiarity of feeling which manifests itself among the ,european nations1 so far as ,i have noticed1 irregularly1--appearing sometimes to be the characteristic of a particular time1 sometimes of a particular race1 sometimes of a particular locality1 and to involve at once much that is to be blamed and much that is praiseworthy4 ,i mean the capability of enduring1 or even delighting in1 the contemplation of objects of terror--a sentiment which especially influences the temper of some groups of mountaineers1 and of which it is necessary to examine the causes1 before we can form any conjecture whatever as to the real effect of mountains on human character4 #aj4 ,for instance1 the unhappy alterations which have lately taken place in the town of ,lucerne have still spared two of its ancient bridges2 both of which1 being long covered walks1 appear1 in past times1 to have been to the population of the town what the ,mall was to ,london1 or the ,gardens of the ,tuileries are to ,paris4 ,for the continual contemplation of those who sauntered from pier to pier1 pictures were painted on the woodwork of the roof4 ,these pictures1 in the one bridge1 represent all the important ,swiss battles and victories2 in the other they are the well-known series of which ,longfellow has made so beautiful a use in the ,golden ,legend1 the ,dance of ,death4 ,imagine the countenances with which a committee1 appointed for the establishment of a new promenade in some flourishing modern town1 would receive a proposal to adorn such promenade with pictures of the ,dance of ,death4 #aa4 ,now just so far as the old bridge at ,lucerne1 with the pure1 deep1 and blue water of the ,reuss eddying down between its piers1 and with the sweet darkness of green hills1 and far-away gleaming of lake and ,alps alternating upon the eye on either side2 and the gloomy lesson frowning in the shadow1 as if the deep tone of a passing-bell1 overhead1 were mingling for ever with the plashing of the river as it glides by beneath2 just so far1 ,i say1 as this differs from the straight and smooth strip of level dust1 between two rows of round-topped acacia trees1 wherein the inhabitants of an ,english watering-place or ,french fortified town take their delight1--so far ,i believe the life of the old ,lucernois1 with all its happy waves of light1 and mountain strength of will1 and solemn expectation of eternity1 to have differed from the generality of the lives of those who saunter for their habitual hour up and down the modern promenade4 ,but the gloom is not always of this noble kind4 ,as we penetrate farther among the hills we shall find it becoming very painful4 ,we are walking1 perhaps1 in a summer afternoon1 up the valley of ,zermatt 7a ,german valley71 the sun shining brightly on grassy knolls and through fringes of pines1 the goats leaping happily1 and the cattle bells ringing sweetly1 and the snowy mountains shining like heavenly castles far above4 ,we see1 a little way off1 a small white chapel1 sheltered behind one of the flowery hillocks of mountain turf2 and we approach its little window1 thinking to look through it into some quiet home of prayer2 but the window is grated with iron1 and open to the winds1 and when we look through it1 behold--a heap of white human bones mouldering into whiter dust6 ,so also in that same sweet valley1 of which ,i have just been speaking1 between ,chamouni and the ,valais1 at every turn of the pleasant pathway1 where the scent of the thyme lies richest upon its rocks1 we shall see a little cross and shrine set under one of them2 and go up to it1 hoping to receive some happy thought of the ,redeemer1 by whom all these lovely things were made1 and still consist4 ,but when we come near--behold1 beneath the cross1 a rude picture of souls tormented in red tongues of hell fire1 and pierced by demons4 #ab4 ,as we pass towards ,italy the appearance of this gloom deepens2 and when we descend the southern slope of the ,alps we shall find this bringing forward of the image of ,death associated with an endurance of the most painful aspects of disease1 so that conditions of human suffering1 which in any other country would be confined in hospitals1 are permitted to be openly exhibited by the wayside2 and with this exposure of the degraded human form is farther connected an insensibility to ugliness and imperfection in other things2 so that the ruined wall1 neglected garden1 and uncleansed chamber1 seem to unite in expressing a gloom of spirit possessing the inhabitants of the whole land4 ,it does not appear to arise from poverty1 nor careless contentment with little3 there is here nothing of ,irish recklessness or humor2 but there seems a settled obscurity in the soul1--a chill and plague1 as if risen out of a sepulchre1 which partly deadens1 partly darkens1 the eyes and hearts of men1 and breathes a leprosy of decay through every breeze and every stone4 ,instead of well-set hair1 baldness1 and burning instead of beauty4 ,nor are definite proofs wanting that the feeling is independent of mere poverty or indolence4 ,in the most gorgeous and costly palace garden the statues will be found green with moss1 the terraces defaced or broken2 the palace itself partly coated with marble1 is left in other places rough with cementless and jagged brick1 its iron balconies bent and rusted1 its pavements overgrown with grass4 ,the more energetic the effort has been to recover from this state1 and to shake off all appearance of poverty1 the more assuredly the curse seems to fasten on the scene1 and the unslaked mortar1 and unfinished wall1 and ghastly desolation of incompleteness entangled in decay1 strike a deeper despondency into the beholder4 #ac4 ,the feeling would be also more easily accounted for if it appeared consistent in its regardlessness of beauty1--if what was done were altogether as inefficient as what was deserted4 ,but the balcony1 though rusty and broken1 is delicate in design1 and supported on a nobly carved slab of marble2 the window1 though a mere black rent in ragged plaster1 is encircled by a garland of vine and fronted by a thicket of the sharp leaves and aurora-colored flowers of the oleander2 the courtyard1 overgrown by mournful grass1 is terminated by a bright fresco of gardens and fountains2 the corpse1 borne with the bare face to heaven1 is strewn with flowers2 beauty is continually mingled with the shadow of death4 #ad4 ,so also is a kind of merriment1--not true cheerfulness1 neither careless nor idle jesting1 but a determined effort at gaiety1 a resolute laughter1 mixed with much satire1 grossness1 and practical buffoonery1 and1 it always seemed to me1 void of all comfort or hope1--with this eminent character in it also1 that it is capable of touching with its bitterness even the most fearful subjects1 so that as the love of beauty retains its tenderness in the presence of death1 this love of jest also retains its boldness1 and the skeleton becomes one of the standard masques of the ,italian comedy4 ,when ,i was in ,venice1 in #ahej1 the most popular piece of the comic opera was ,death and the ,cobbler1 in which the point of the plot was the success of a village cobbler as a physician1 in consequence of the appearance of ,death to him beside the bed of every patient who was not to recover2 and the most applauded scene in it was one in which the physician1 insolent in success1 and swollen with luxury1 was himself taken down into the abode of ,death1 and thrown into an agony of terror by being shown lives of men1 under the form of wasting lamps1 and his own ready to expire4 #ae4 ,i have also not the smallest doubt that this endurance or affronting of fearful images is partly associated with indecency1 partly with general fatuity and weakness of mind4 ,the men who applauded loudest when the actress put on1 in an instant1 her mask representing a skull1 and when her sharp and clear ,sono la ,morte rang through the theatre1 were just those whose disgusting habits rendered it impossible for women to pass through some of the principal streets in ,venice1--just those who formed the gaping audience1 when a mountebank offered a new quack medicine on the ,riva dei ,schiavoni4 ,and1 as fearful imagery is associated with the weakness of fever1 so it seems to me that imbecility and love of terror are connected by a mysterious link throughout the whole life of man4 ,there is a most touching instance of this in the last days of ,sir ,walter ,scott1 the publication of whose latter works1 deeply to be regretted on many accounts1 was yet1 perhaps1 on the whole1 right1 as affording a means of studying the conditions of the decay of overwrought human intellect in one of the most noble of minds4 ,among the many signs of this decay at its uttermost1 in ,castle ,dangerous1 not one of the least notable was the introduction of the knight who bears on his black armor the likeness of a skeleton4 #af4 ,the love of horror which is in this manner connected with feebleness of intellect1 is not1 however1 to be confounded with that shown by the vulgar in general4 ,the feeling which is calculated upon in the preparation of pieces full of terror and crime1 at our lower theatres1 and which is fed with greater art and elegance in the darker scenery of the popular ,french novelists1 however morally unhealthy1 is not unnatural2 it is not the result of an apathy to such horror1 but of a strong desire for excitement in minds coarse and dull1 but not necessarily feeble4 ,the scene of the murder of the jeweller in the ,count of ,monte ,cristo1 or those with the ,squelette in the ,mystres de ,paris1 appeal to instincts which are as common to all mankind as those of thirst and hunger1 and which are only debasing in the exaggerated condition consequent upon the dulness of other instincts higher than they4 ,and the persons who1 at one period of their life1 might take chief pleasure in such narrations1 at another may be brought into a temper of high tone and acute sensibility4 ,but the love of horror respecting which we are now inquiring appears to be an unnatural and feeble feeling2 it is not that the person needs excitement1 or has any such strong perceptions as would cause excitement1 but he is dead to the horror1 and a strange evil influence guides his feebleness of mind rather to fearful images than to beautiful ones1--as our disturbed dreams are sometimes filled with ghastliness which seem not to arise out of any conceivable association of our waking ideas1 but to be a vapor out of the very chambers of the tomb1 to which the mind1 in its palsy1 has approached4 #ag4 ,but even this imbecile revelling in terror is more comprehensible1 more apparently natural1 than the instinct which is found frequently connected with it1 of absolute joy in ugliness4 ,in some conditions of old ,german art we find the most singular insisting upon what is in all respects ugly and abortive1 or frightful2 not with any sense of sublimity in it1 neither in mere foolishness1 but with a resolute choice1 such as ,i can completely account for on no acknowledged principle of human nature4 ,for in the worst conditions of sensuality there is yet some perception of the beautiful1 so that men utterly depraved in principle and habits of thought will yet admire beautiful things and fair faces4 ,but in the temper of which ,i am now speaking there is no preference even of the lower forms of loveliness2 no effort at painting fair limbs or passionate faces1 no evidence of any human or natural sensation1--a mere feeding on decay and rolling in slime1 not apparently or conceivably with any pleasure in it1 but under some fearful possession of an evil spirit4 #ah4 ,the most wonderful instance of this feeling at its uttermost which ,i remember1 is the missal in the ,british ,museum1 ,harl4 ,,mss4 #ahib4 ,the drawings of the principal subjects in it appear to have been made first in black1 by ,martin ,schngauer 7at all events by some copyist of his designs71 and then another workman has been employed to paint these drawings over4 ,no words can describe the intensity of the plague of the heart in this man2 the reader should examine the manuscript carefully if he desires to see how low human nature can sink4 ,i had written a description of one or two of the drawings in order to give some conception of them to persons not able to refer to the book2 but the mere description so saddened and polluted my pages that ,i could not retain it4 ,i will only1 therefore1 name the principal characteristics which belong to the workman's mind4 #ai4 ,first1 perpetual tampering with death1 whether there be occasion to allude to it or not1--especially insisting upon its associations with corruption4 ,i do not pain the reader by dwelling on the details illustrative of this feeling4 ,secondly1 ,delight in dismemberment1 dislocation1 and distortion of attitude4 ,distortion1 to some extent1 is a universal characteristic of the ,german fifteenth and sixteenth century art2 that is to say1 there is a general aptitude for painting legs across1 or feet twisted round1 or bodies awkwardly bent1 rather than anything in a natural position2 and ,martin ,schngauer himself exhibits this defect in no small degree4 ,but here the finishing workman has dislocated nearly every joint which he has exposed1 besides knitting and twisting the muscles into mere knots of cordage4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #aac4 ,what1 however1 only amounts to dislocation in the limbs of the human figures1 becomes actual dismemberment in the animals4 ,fig4 #aac is a faithful copy of a tree with two birds1 one on its bough1 and one above it1 seen in the background1 behind a soldier's mace1 in the drawing of the ,betrayal4 ,in the engraving of this subject1 by ,schngauer himself1 the mace does not occur2 it has been put in by the finishing workman1 in order to give greater expression of savageness to the boughs of the tree1 which1 joined with the spikes of the mace1 form one mass of disorganized angles and thorns1 while the birds look partly as if being torn to pieces1 and partly like black spiders4 ,in the painting itself the sky also is covered with little detached and bent white strokes1 by way of clouds1 and the hair of the figures torn into ragged locks1 like wood rent by a cannon shot4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #aad4 ,this tendency to dismember and separate everything is one of the eminent conditions of a mind leaning to vice and ugliness2 just as to connect and harmonize everything is that of a mind leaning to virtue and beauty4 ,it is shown down to the smallest details2 as1 for instance1 in the spotted backgrounds1 which1 instead of being chequered with connected patterns1 as in the noble manuscripts 7see ,vol4 ,,iii4 ,plate #g71 are covered with disorderly dashes and circles executed with a blunt pen or brush1 ,fig4 #aad4 ,and one of the borders is composed of various detached heads cut off at the neck or shoulders without the slightest endeavor to conceal or decorate the truncation4 ,all this1 of course1 is associated with choice of the most abominable features in the countenance4 #bj4 ,thirdly1 ,pure ignorance4 ,necessarily such a mind as this must be incapable of perceiving the truth of any form2 and therefore together with the distortion of all studied form is associated the utter negation or imperfection of that which is less studied4 ,fourthly1 ,delight in blood4 ,i cannot use the words which would be necessary to describe the second#ajb painting of the ,scourging1 in this missal4 ,but ,i may generally notice that the degree in which the peculiar feeling we are endeavoring to analyze is present in any district of ,roman ,catholic countries1 may be almost accurately measured by the quantity of blood represented on the crucifixes4 ,the person employed to repaint1 in the ,campo ,santo of ,pisa1 the portion of ,orcagna's pictures representing the ,inferno1 has furnished a very notable example of the same feeling2 and it must be familiar to all travellers in countries thoroughly subjected to modern ,romanism1 a thing as different from thirteenth-century ,romanism as a prison from a prince's chamber4 ,lastly1 ,utter absence of inventive power4 ,the only ghastliness which this workman is capable of is that of distortion4 ,in ghastly combination he is impotent2 he cannot even understand it or copy it when set before him1 continually destroying any that exists in the drawing of ,schngauer4 #ba4 ,such appear to be the principal component elements in the mind of the painter of this missal1 and it possesses these in complete abstraction from nearly all others1 showing1 in deadly purity1 the nature of the venom which in ordinary cases is tempered by counteracting elements4 ,there are even certain feelings1 evil enough themselves1 but more natural than these1 of which the slightest mingling would here be a sort of redemption4 ,vanity1 for instance1 would lead to a more finished execution1 and more careful copying from nature1 and of course subdue the ugliness by fidelity2 love of pleasure would introduce occasionally a graceful or sensual form2 malice would give some point and meaning to the bordering grotesques1 nay1 even insanity might have given them some inventive horror4 ,but the pure mortiferousness of this mind1 capable neither of patience1 fidelity1 grace1 or wit1 in any place1 or from any motive1--this horrible apathy of brain1 which cannot ascend so high as insanity1 but is capable only of putrefaction1 save us the task of all analysis1 and leave us only that of examining how this black aqua ,tophana mingles with other conditions of mind4 #bb4 ,for ,i have led the reader over this dark ground1 because it was essential to our determination of the influence of mountains that we should get what data we could as to the extent in other districts1 and derivation from other causes1 of the horror which at first we might have been led to connect too arbitrarily with hill scenery4 ,and ,i wish that my knowledge permitted me to trace it over wider ground1 for the observations hitherto stated leave the question still one of great difficulty4 ,it might appear to a traveller crossing and recrossing the ,alps between ,switzerland and ,italy1 that the main strength of the evil lay on the south of the chain1 and was attributable to the peculiar circumstances and character of the ,italian nation at this period4 ,but as he examined the matter farther he would note that in the districts of ,italy generally supposed to be healthy1 the evidence of it was less1 and that it seemed to gain ground in places exposed to malaria1 centralizing itself in the ,val d',aosta4 ,he would then1 perhaps1 think it inconsistent with justice to lay the blame on the mountains1 and transfer his accusation to the marshes1 yet would be compelled to admit that the evil manifested itself most where these marshes were surrounded by hills4 ,he would next1 probably1 suppose it produced by the united effect of hardships1 solitude1 and unhealthy air2 and be disposed to find fault with the mountains1 at least so far as they required painful climbing and laborious agriculture2--but would again be thrown into doubt by remembering that one main branch of the feeling1--the love of ugliness1 seemed to belong in a peculiar manner to ,northern ,germany4 ,if at all familiar with the art of the ,north and ,south1 he would perceive that the endurance of ugliness1 which in ,italy resulted from languor or depression 7while the mind yet retained some apprehension of the difference between fairness and deformity1 as above noted in #ab71 was not to be confounded with that absence of perception of the ,beautiful1 which introduced a general hard-featuredness of figure into all ,german and ,flemish early art1 even when ,germany and ,flanders were in their brightest national health and power4 ,and as he followed out in detail the comparison of all the purest ideals north and south of the ,alps1 and perceived the perpetual contrast existing between the angular and bony sanctities of the one latitude1 and the drooping graces and pensive pieties of the other1 he would no longer attribute to the ruggedness1 or miasma1 of the mountains the origin of a feeling which showed itself so strongly in the comfortable streets of ,antwerp and ,nuremberg1 and in the unweakened and active intellects of ,van ,eyck and ,albert ,durer4 ,conditions which produce the ,mountain gloom4 #bc4 ,as ,i think over these various difficulties1 the following conclusions seem to me deducible from the data ,i at present possess4 ,i am in no wise confident of their accuracy1 but they may assist the reader in pursuing the inquiry farther4 ,general power of intellect4 ,i4 ,it seems to me1 first1 that a fair degree of intellect and imagination is necessary before this kind of disease is possible4 ,it does not seize on merely stupid peasantries1 but on those which belong to intellectual races1 and in whom the faculties of imagination and the sensibilities of heart were originally strong and tender4 ,in flat land1 with fresh air1 the peasantry may be almost mindless1 but not infected with this gloom4 ,romanism4 ,,ii4 ,in the second place1 ,i think it is closely connected with the ,romanist religion1 and that for several causes4 ,a4 ,the habitual use of bad art 7ill-made dolls and bad pictures71 in the services of religion1 naturally blunts the delicacy of the senses1 by requiring reverence to be paid to ugliness1 and familiarizing the eye to it in moments of strong and pure feeling2 ,i do not think we can overrate the probable evil results of this enforced discordance between the sight and imagination4 ,b4 ,the habitually dwelling on the penances1 tortures1 and martyrdoms of the ,saints1 as subjects of admiration and sympathy1 together with much meditation on ,purgatorial suffering2 rendered almost impossible to ,protestants by the greater fearfulness of such reflections1 when the punishment is supposed eternal4 ,c4 ,idleness1 and neglect of the proper duties of daily life1 during the large number of holidays in the year1 together with want of proper cleanliness1 induced by the idea that comfort and happy purity are less pleasing to ,god than discomfort and self-degradation4 ,this insolence induces much despondency1 a larger measure of real misery than is necessary under the given circumstances of life1 and many forms of crime and disease besides4 ,d4 ,superstitious indignation4 ,i do not know if it is as a result of the combination of these several causes1 or if under a separate head1 that ,i should class a certain strange awe which seems to attach itself to ,romanism like its shadow1 differing from the coarser gloom which we have been examining1 in that it can attach itself to minds of the highest purity and keenness1 and1 indeed1 does so to these more than to inferior ones4 ,it is an undefinable pensiveness1 leading to great severity of precept1 mercilessness in punishment1 and dark or discouraging thoughts of ,god and man4#ajc ,it is connected partly with a greater belief in the daily presence and power of evil spirits than is common in ,protestants 7except the more enthusiastic1 and also gloomy1 sects of ,puritans71 connected also with a sternness of belief in the condemnatory power and duty of the ,church1 leading to persecution1 and to less tempered indignation at oppositions of opinion than characterizes the ,protestant mind ordinarily1 which1 though waspish and bitter enough1 is not liable to the peculiar heart-burning caused in a ,papist by any insult to his ,church1 or by the aspect of what he believes to be heresy4 #bd4 ,for all these reasons1 ,i think ,romanism is very definitely connected with the gloom we are examining1 so as without fail to produce some measure of it in all persons who sincerely hold that faith2 and if such effect is ever not to be traced1 it is because the ,romanism is checked by infidelity4 ,the atheism or dissipation of a large portion of the population in crowded capitals prevents this gloom from being felt in full force2 but it resumes its power1 in mountain solitudes1 over the minds of the comparatively ignorant and more suffering peasantry2 so that it is not an evil inherent in the hills themselves1 but one result of the continuance in them of that old religious voice of warning1 which1 encouraging sacred feeling in general1 encourages also whatever evil may essentially belong to the form of doctrine preached among them4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #aae4 ,disease of body4 #be4 ,,iii4 ,it is assuredly connected also with a diseased state of health4 ,cheerfulness is just as natural to the heart of a man in strong health as color to his cheek2 and wherever there is habitual gloom1 there must be either bad air1 unwholesome food1 improperly severe labor1 or erring habits of life4 ,among mountains1 all these various causes are frequently found in combination4 ,the air is either too bleak1 or it is impure2 generally the peasants are exposed to alternations of both4 ,great hardship is sustained in various ways1 severe labor undergone during summer1 and a sedentary and confined life led during winter4 ,where the gloom exists in less elevated districts1 as in ,germany1 ,i do not doubt1 though ,i have not historical knowledge enough to prove this1 that it is partly connected with habits of sedentary life1 protracted study1 and general derangement of the bodily system in consequence2 when it exists in the gross form exhibited in the manuscript above examined1 ,i have no doubt it has been fostered by habits of general vice1 cruelty1 and dissipation4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #aaf4 ,rudeness of life4 #bf4 ,,iv4 ,considered as a natural insensibility to beauty1 it is1 ,i imagine1 indicative of a certain want of cultivation in the race among whom it is found1 perhaps without corporal or mental weakness1 but produced by rudeness of life1 absence of examples of beautiful art1 defects in the mould of the national features1 and such other adversities1 generally belonging to northern nations as opposed to southern4 ,here1 however1 again my historical knowledge is at fault1 and ,i must leave the reader to follow out the question for himself1 if it interests him4 ,a single example maybe useful to those who have not time for investigation1 in order to show the kind of difference ,i mean4 ,fig4 #aae is a ,st4 ,peter1 from a ,german fifteenth-century ,,ms41 of good average execution2 and ,fig4 #aaf a ,madonna1 either of the best ,english1 or second-rate ,french1 work1 from a service-book executed in #abij4 ,the reader will1 ,i doubt not1 perceive at once the general grace and tenderness of sentiment in the lines of the drapery of the last1 and the comparatively delicate type of features4 ,the hardnesses of line1 gesture1 and feature in the ,german example1 though two centuries at least later1 are1 ,i think1 equally notable4 ,they are accompanied in the rest of the ,,ms4 by an excessive coarseness in choice of ornamental subject3 beneath a female figure typical of the ,church1 for instance1 there is painted a carcass1 just butchered1 and hung up with skewers through the legs4 #bg4 ,v4 ,in many high mountain districts1 not only are the inhabitants likely to be hurt by hardship of life1 and retarded by roughness of manners1 but their eyes are familiarized with certain conditions of ugliness and disorder1 produced by the violence of the elements around them4 ,once accustomed to look upon these conditions as inevitable in nature1 they may easily transfer the idea of inevitableness and fitness to the same appearances in their own houses4 ,i said that mountains seem to have been created to show us the perfection of beauty2 but we saw in the tenth chapter that they also show sometimes the extreme of ugliness3 and to the inhabitants of districts of this kind it is almost necessary to their daily comfort that they should view without dislike aspects of desolation which would to others be frightful4 ,and can we blame them1 if1 when the rivers are continually loading their fields with heaps of black slime1 and rolling1 in time of flood1 over the thickets on their islets1 leaving1 when the flood is past1 every leaf and bough dim with granite-dust1--never more to be green through all the parching of summer2 when the landslip leaves a ghastly scar among the grassy mounds of the hill side2--the rocks above are torn by their glaciers into rifts and wounds that are never healed2 and the ice itself blackened league after league with loose ruin cast upon it as if out of some long and foul excavation2--can we blame1 ,i say1 the peasant1 if1 beholding these things daily as necessary appointments in the strong nature around him1 he is careless that the same disorders should appear in his household or his farm2 nor feels discomforted1 though his walls should be full of fissures like the rocks1 his furniture covered with dust like the trees1 and his garden like the glacier in unsightliness of trench and desolation of mound8 #bh4 ,under these five heads are embraced1 as far as ,i am able to trace them1 the causes of the temper which we are examining2 and it will be seen that only the last is quite peculiar to mountain and marsh districts1 although there is a somewhat greater probability that the others also may be developed among hills more than in plains4 ,when1 by untoward accident1 all are associated1 and the conditions described under the fifth head are very distinct1 the result is even sublime in its painfulness4 ,of places subjected to such evil influence1 none are quite so characteristic as the town of ,sion in the ,valais4 ,in the first place 7see #bc71 the material on which it works is good2 the race of peasantry being there both handsome and intelligent1 as far as they escape the adverse influences around them2 so that on a fte-day or a ,sunday1 when the families come down from the hill chlets1 where the air is healthier1 many very pretty faces may be seen among the younger women1 set off by somewhat more pains in adjustment of the singular ,valaisan costume than is now usual in other cantons of ,switzerland4 #bi4 ,secondly1 it is a bishopric1 and quite the centre of ,romanism in ,switzerland1 all the most definite ,romanist doctrines being evidently believed sincerely1 and by a majority of the population2 ,protestantism having no hold upon them at all2 and republican infidelity1 though active in the councils of the commune1 having as yet1 so far as ,i could see1 little influence in the hearts of households4 ,the prominence of the ,valais among ,roman ,catholic states has always been considerable4 ,the ,cardinal of ,sion was1 of old1 one of the personages most troublesome to the ,venetian ambassadors at the ,english ,court4#ajd #cj4 ,thirdly1 it is in the midst of a marshy valley1 pregnant with various disease2 the water either stagnant1 or disgorged in wild torrents charged with earth2 the air1 in the morning1 stagnant also1 hot1 close1 and infected2 in the afternoon1 rushing up from the outlet at ,martigny in fitful and fierce whirlwind2 one side of the valley in almost continual shade1 the other 7it running east and west7 scorched by the southern sun1 and sending streams of heat into the air all night long from its torrid limestones2 while less traceable plagues than any of these bring on the inhabitants1 at a certain time of life1 violent affections of gotre1 and often1 in infancy1 cretinism4 ,agriculture is attended with the greatest difficulties and despondencies2 the land which the labor of a life has just rendered fruitful is often buried in an hour2 and the carriage of materials1 as well as the traversing of land on the steep hill sides1 attended with extraordinary fatigue4 #ca4 ,owing to these various influences1 ,sion1 the capital of the district1 presents one of the most remarkable scenes for the study of the particular condition of human feeling at present under consideration that ,i know among mountains4 ,it consists of little more than one main street1 winding round the roots of two ridges of crag1 and branching1 on the sides towards the rocks1 into a few narrow lanes1 on the other1 into spaces of waste ground1 of which part serve for military exercises1 part are enclosed in an uncertain and vague way2 a ditch half-filled up1 or wall half-broken down1 seeming to indicate their belonging1 or having been intended to belong1 to some of the unfinished houses which are springing up amidst their weeds4 ,but it is difficult to say1 in any part of the town1 what is garden-ground or what is waste2 still more1 what is new building and what old4 ,the houses have been for the most part built roughly of the coarse limestone of the neighboring hills1 then coated with plaster1 and painted1 in imitation of ,palladian palaces1 with grey architraves and pilasters1 having draperies from capital to capital4 ,with this false decoration is curiously contrasted a great deal of graceful1 honest1 and original ironwork1 in bulging balconies1 and floreted gratings of huge windows1 and branching sprays1 for any and every purpose of support or guard4 ,the plaster1 with its fresco1 has in most instances dropped away1 leaving the houses peeled and scarred2 daubed into uncertain restoration with new mortar1 and in the best cases thus left2 but commonly fallen also1 more or less1 into ruin1 and either roofed over at the first story when the second has fallen1 or hopelessly abandoned2--not pulled down1 but left in white and ghastly shells to crumble into heaps of limestone and dust1 a pauper or two still inhabiting where inhabitation is possible4 ,the lanes wind among these ruins2 the blue sky and mountain grass are seen through the windows of their rooms and over their partitions1 on which old gaudy papers flaunt in rags3 the weeds gather1 and the dogs scratch about their foundations2 yet there are no luxuriant weeds1 for their ragged leaves are blanched with lime1 crushed under perpetually falling fragments1 and worn away by listless standing of idle feet4 ,there is always mason's work doing1 always some fresh patching and whitening2 a dull smell of mortar1 mixed with that of stale foulness of every kind1 rises with the dust1 and defiles every current of air2 the corners are filled with accumulations of stones1 partly broken1 with crusts of cement sticking to them1 and blotches of nitre oozing out of their pores4 ,the lichenous rocks and sunburnt slopes of grass stretch themselves hither and thither among the wreck1 curiously traversed by stairs and walls and half-cut paths1 that disappear below starkly black arches1 and cannot be followed1 or rise in windings round the angles1 and in unfenced slopes along the fronts1 of the two masses of rock which bear1 one the dark castle1 the other the old church and convent of ,sion2 beneath1 in a rudely inclosed square at the outskirts of the town1 a still more ancient ,lombardic church raises its grey tower1 a kind of esplanade extending between it and the ,episcopal palace1 and laid out as a plot of grass1 intersected by gravel walks2 but the grass1 in strange sympathy with the inhabitants1 will not grow as grass1 but chokes itself with a network of grey weeds1 quite wonderful in its various expression of thorny discontent and savageness2 the blue flower of the borage1 which mingles with it in quantities1 hardly interrupting its character1 for the violent black spots in the centre of its blue takes away the tenderness of the flower1 and it seems to have grown there in some supernatural mockery of its old renown of being good against melancholy4 ,the rest of the herbage is chiefly composed of the dwarf mallow1 the wild succory1 the wall-rocket1 goose-foot1 and milfoil2#aje plants1 nearly all of them1 jagged in the leaf1 broken and dimly clustered in flower1 haunters of waste ground and places of outcast refuse4 ,beyond this plot of ground the ,episcopal palace1 a half-deserted1 barrack-like building1 overlooks a neglected vineyard1 of which the clusters1 black on the under side1 snow-white on the other with lime-dust1 gather around them a melancholy hum of flies4 ,through the arches of its trelliswork the avenue of the great valley is seen in descending distance1 enlarged with line beyond line of tufted foliage1 languid and rich1 degenerating at last into leagues of grey ,maremma1 wild with the thorn and the willow2 on each side of it1 sustaining themselves in mighty slopes and unbroken reaches of colossal promontory1 the great mountains secede into supremacy through rosy depths of burning air1 and the crescents of snow gleam over their dim summits as--if there could be ,mourning1 as once there was ,war1 in ,heaven--a line of waning moons might be set for lamps along the sides of some sepulchral chamber in the ,infinite4 #cb4 ,i know not how far this universal grasp of the sorrowful spirit might be relaxed if sincere energy were directed to amend the ways of life of the ,valaisan4 ,but it has always appeared to me that there was1 even in more healthy mountain districts1 a certain degree of inevitable melancholy2 nor could ,i ever escape from the feeling that here1 where chiefly the beauty of ,god's working was manifested to men1 warning was also given1 and that to the full1 of the enduring of ,his indignation against sin4 ,it seems one of the most cunning and frequent of self-deceptions to turn the heart away from this warning and refuse to acknowledge anything in the fair scenes of the natural creation but beneficence4 ,men in general lean towards the light1 so far as they contemplate such things at all1 most of them passing by on the other side1 either in mere plodding pursuit of their own work1 irrespective of what good or evil is around them1 or else in selfish gloom1 or selfish delight1 resulting from their own circumstances at the moment4 ,of those who give themselves to any true contemplation1 the plurality1 being humble1 gentle1 and kindly hearted1 look only in nature for what is lovely and kind2 partly1 also1 ,god gives the disposition to every healthy human mind in some degree to pass over or even harden itself against evil things1 else the suffering would be too great to be borne2 and humble people1 with a quiet trust that everything is for the best1 do not fairly represent the facts to themselves1 thinking them none of their business4 ,so1 what between hard-hearted people1 thoughtless people1 busy people1 humble people1 and cheerfully minded people1--giddiness of youth1 and preoccupations of age1--philosophies of faith1 and cruelties of folly1--priest and ,levite1 masquer and merchantman1 all agreeing to keep their own side of the way1--the evil that ,god sends to warn us gets to be forgotten1 and the evil that ,he sends to be mended by us gets left unmended4 ,and then1 because people shut their eyes to the dark indisputableness of the facts in front of them1 their ,faith1 such as it is1 is shaken or uprooted by every darkness in what is revealed to them4 ,in the present day it is not easy to find a well-meaning man among our more earnest thinkers1 who will not take upon himself to dispute the whole system of redemption1 because he cannot unravel the mystery of the punishment of sin4 ,but can he unravel the mystery of the punishment of ,,no sin8 ,can he entirely account for all that happens to a cab-horse8 ,has he ever looked fairly at the fate of one of those beasts as it is dying1--measured the work it has done1 and the reward it has got1--put his hand upon the bloody wounds through which its bones are piercing1 and so looked up to ,heaven with an entire understanding of ,heaven's ways about the horse8 ,yet the horse is a fact--no dream--no revelation among the myrtle trees by night2 and the dust it dies upon1 and the dogs that eat it1 are facts2--and yonder happy person1 whose the horse was till its knees were broken over the hurdles1 who had an immortal soul to begin with1 and wealth and peace to help forward his immortality2 who has also devoted the powers of his soul1 and body1 and wealth1 and peace1 to the spoiling of houses1 the corruption of the innocent1 and the oppression of the poor2 and has1 at this actual moment of his prosperous life1 as many curses waiting round about him in calm shadow1 with their death's eyes fixed upon him1 biding their time1 as ever the poor cab-horse had launched at him in meaningless blasphemies1 when his failing feet stumbled at the stones1--this happy person shall have no stripes1--shall have only the horse's fate of annihilation2 or1 if other things are indeed reserved for him1 ,heaven's kindness or omnipotence is to be doubted therefore4 #cc4 ,we cannot reason of these things4 ,but this ,i know--and this may by all men be known--that no good or lovely thing exists in this world without its correspondent darkness2 and that the universe presents itself continually to mankind under the stern aspect of warning1 or of choice1 the good and the evil set on the right hand and the left4 ,and in this mountain gloom1 which weighs so strongly upon the human heart that in all time hitherto1 as we have seen1 the hill defiles have been either avoided in terror or inhabited in penance1 there is but the fulfilment of the universal law1 that where the beauty and wisdom of the ,divine working are most manifested1 there also are manifested most clearly the terror of ,god's wrath1 and inevitableness of ,his power4 ,nor is this gloom less wonderful so far as it bears witness to the error of human choice1 even when the nature of good and evil is most definitely set before it4 ,the trees of ,paradise were fair2 but our first parents hid themselves from ,god in medio ligni ,paradisi1 in the midst of the trees of the garden4 ,the hills were ordained for the help of man2 but1 instead of raising his eyes to the hills1 from whence cometh his help1 he does his idol sacrifice upon every high hill and under every green tree4 ,the mountain of the ,lord's house is established above the hills2 but ,nadab and ,abihu shall see under ,his feet the body of heaven in his clearness1 yet go down to kindle the censer against their own souls4 ,and so to the end of time it will be2 to the end1 that cry will still be heard along the ,alpine winds1 ,hear1 oh ye mountains1 the ,lord's controversy6 ,still1 their gulfs of thawless ice1 and unretarded roar of tormented waves1 and deathful falls of fruitless waste1 and unredeemed decay1 must be the image of the souls of those who have chosen the darkness1 and whose cry shall be to the mountains to fall on them1 and to the hills to cover them2 and still1 to the end of time1 the clear waters of the unfailing springs1 and the white pasture-lilies in their clothed multitude1 and the abiding of the burning peaks in their nearness to the opened heaven1 shall be the types1 and the blessings1 of those who have chosen light1 and of whom it is written1 ,the mountains shall bring peace to the people1 and the little hills1 righteousness4 ,,footnotes #aja ,as ,i was correcting this sheet for press1 the morning paper containing the account of the burning of ,covent ,garden theatre furnished the following financial statements1 bearing somewhat on the matter in hand2 namely1 ,that the interior fittings of the theatre1 in #ahdf1 cost #dj1jjj ,that it was opened on the #fth of ,april1 #ahdg2 and that in #ahdh the loss upon it was #cd1gef in #ahdi #be1dee ------ #ajj1baa ------ ,and that in one year the vocal department cost #cc1cdi the ballet #h1aje the orchestra #aj1jdh ------ #ea1ejb ------ ,mr4 ,albano afterwards corrected this statement1 substituting #bg1jjj for #dj1jjj3 and perhaps the other sums may also have been exaggerated1 but ,i leave the reader to consider what an annual expenditure of from #cj1jjjl4 to #ej1jjjl4 might effect in practical idealism in general1 whether in ,swiss valleys or elsewhere4 ,i am not one of those who regard all theatrical entertainment as wrong or harmful4 ,i only regret to see our theatres so conducted as to involve an expense which is worse than useless1 in leading our audiences to look for mere stage effect1 instead of good acting1 good singing1 or good sense4 ,if we really loved music1 or the drama1 we should be content to hear well-managed voices1 and see finished acting1 without paying five or six thousand pounds to dress the songsters or decorate the stage4 ,simple but well-chosen dresses1 and quiet landscape exquisitely painted1 would have far more effect on the feelings of any sensible audience than the tinsel and extravagance of our common scenery2 and our actors and actresses must have little respect for their own powers1 if they think that dignity of gesture is dependent on the flash of jewellery1 or the pathos of accents connected with the costliness of silk4 ,perfect execution of music by a limited orchestra is far more delightful1 and far less fatiguing1 than the irregular roar and hum of multitudinous mediocrity2 and finished instrumentation by an adequate number of performers1 exquisite acting1 and sweetest singing1 might be secured for the public at a fourth part of the cost now spent on operatic absurdities4 ,there is no occasion whatever for decoration of the house3 it is1 on the contrary1 the extreme of vulgarity4 ,no person of good taste ever goes to a theatre to look at the fronts of the boxes4 ,comfortable and roomy seats1 perfect cleanliness1 decent and fitting curtains and other furniture1 of good stuff1 but neither costly nor tawdry1 and convenient1 but not dazzling1 light1 are the proper requirements in the furnishing of an opera-house4 ,as for the persons who go there to look at each other--to show their dresses--to yawn away waste hours--to obtain a maximum of momentary excitement--or to say they were there1 at next day's three-o'clock breakfast 7and it is only for such persons that glare1 cost1 and noise are necessary71 ,i commend to their consideration1 or at least to such consideration as is possible to their capacities1 the suggestions in the text4 ,but to the true lovers of the drama ,i would submit1 as another subject of inquiry1 whether they ought not to separate themselves from the mob1 and provide1 for their own modest1 quiet1 and guiltless entertainment1 the truth of heartfelt impersonation1 and the melody of the unforced and delicate voice1 without extravagance of adjunct1 unhealthy lateness of hours1 or appeal to degraded passions4 ,such entertainment might be obtained at infinitely smaller cost1 and yet at a price which would secure honorable and permanent remuneration to every performer2 and ,i am mistaken in my notion of the best actors1 if they would not rather play at a house where people went to hear and to feel1 than weary themselves1 even for four times the pay1 before an audience insulting in its listlessness and ignorant in its applause4 #ajb ,there are1 unusually1 two paintings of this subject1 the first representing the preparations for the scourging1 the second its close4 #ajc ,this character has1 ,i think1 been traced in the various writings of ,mrs4 ,sherwood better than in any others2 she has a peculiar art of making it felt and of striking the deep tone of it as from a passing-bell1 contrasting it with the most cheerful1 lovely1 and sincere conditions of ,protestantism4 #ajd ,see ,four ,years at the ,court of ,henry ,,viii4 7,dispatches of the ,venetian ambassador ,giustinian1 translated by ,mr4 ,rawdon ,brown17 #ahed4 #aje ,malva rotundifolia1 ,cichorium ,intybus1 ,sisymbrium tenuifolium1 ,chenopodium urbicum1 ,achillea ,millefolium4 ,,chapter ,,xx4 ,,the ,,mountain ,,glory4 #a4 ,i have dwelt1 in the foregoing chapter1 on the sadness of the hills with the greater insistance that ,i feared my own excessive love for them might lead me into too favorable interpretation of their influences over the human heart2 or1 at least1 that the reader might accuse me of fond prejudice1 in the conclusions to which1 finally1 ,i desire to lead him concerning them4 ,for1 to myself1 mountains are the beginning and the end of all natural scenery2 in them1 and in the forms of inferior landscape that lead to them1 my affections are wholly bound up2 and though ,i can look with happy admiration at the lowland flowers1 and woods1 and open skies1 the happiness is tranquil and cold1 like that of examining detached flowers in a conservatory1 or reading a pleasant book2 and if the scenery be resolutely level1 insisting upon the declaration of its own flatness in all the detail of it1 as in ,holland1 or ,lincolnshire1 or ,central ,lombardy1 it appears to me like a prison1 and ,i cannot long endure it4 ,but the slightest rise and fall in the road1--a mossy bank at the side of a crag of chalk1 with brambles at its brow1 overhanging it1--a ripple over three or four stones in the stream by the bridge1--above all1 a wild bit of ferny ground under a fir or two1 looking as if1 possibly1 one might see a hill if one got to the other side of the trees1 will instantly give me intense delight1 because the shadow1 or the hope1 of the hills is in them4 #b4 ,and thus1 although there are few districts of ,northern ,europe1 however apparently dull or tame1 in which ,i cannot find pleasure1 though the whole of ,northern ,france 7except ,champagne71 dull as it seems to most travellers1 is to me a perpetual ,paradise2 and1 putting ,lincolnshire1 ,leicestershire1 and one or two such other perfectly flat districts aside1 there is not an ,english county which ,i should not find entertainment in exploring the cross-roads of1 foot by foot2 yet all my best enjoyment would be owing to the imagination of the hills1 coloring1 with their far-away memories1 every lowland stone and herb4 ,the pleasant ,french coteau1 green in the sunshine1 delights me1 either by what real mountain character it has in itself 7for in extent and succession of promontory the flanks of the ,french valleys have quite the sublimity of true mountain distances71 or by its broken ground and rugged steps among the vines1 and rise of the leafage above1 against the blue sky1 as it might rise at ,vevay or ,como4 ,there is not a wave of the ,seine but is associated in my mind with the first rise of the sandstones and forest pines of ,fontainebleau2 and with the hope of the ,alps1 as one leaves ,paris with the horses' heads to the south-west1 the morning sun1 flashing on the bright waves at ,charenton4 ,if there be no hope or association of this kind1 and if ,i cannot deceive myself into fancying that perhaps at the next rise of the road there may be seen the film of a blue hill in the gleam of sky at the horizon1 the landscape1 however beautiful1 produces in me even a kind of sickness and pain2 and the whole view from ,richmond ,hill or ,windsor ,terrace1--nay1 the gardens of ,alcinous1 with their perpetual summer1--or of the ,hesperides 7if they were flat1 and not close to ,atlas71 golden apples and all--,i would give away in an instant1 for one mossy granite stone a foot broad1 and two leaves of lady-fern4#ajf #c4 ,i know that this is in great part idiosyncrasy2 and that ,i must not trust to my own feelings1 in this respect1 as representative of the modern landscape instinct2 yet ,i know it is not idiosyncrasy1 in so far as there may be proved to be indeed an increase of the absolute beauty of all scenery in exact proportion to its mountainous character1 providing that character be healthily mountainous4 ,i do not mean to take the ,col de ,bon ,homme as representative of hills1 any more than ,i would take ,romney ,marsh as representative of plains2 but putting ,leicestershire or ,staffordshire fairly beside ,westmoreland1 and ,lombardy or ,champagne fairly beside the ,pays de ,vaud or the ,canton ,berne1 ,i find the increase in the calculable sum of elements of beauty to be steadily in proportion to the increase of mountainous character2 and that the best image which the world can give of ,paradise is in the slope of the meadows1 orchards1 and corn-fields on the sides of a great ,alp1 with its purple rocks and eternal snows above2 this excellence not being in any wise a matter referable to feeling1 or individual preferences1 but demonstrable by calm enumeration of the number of lovely colors on the rocks1 the varied grouping of the trees1 and quantity of noble incidents in stream1 crag1 or cloud1 presented to the eye at any given moment4 #d4 ,for consider1 first1 the difference produced in the whole tone of landscape color by the introductions of purple1 violet1 and deep ultramarine blue1 which we owe to mountains4 ,in an ordinary lowland landscape we have the blue of the sky2 the green of grass1 which ,i will suppose 7and this is an unnecessary concession to the lowlands7 entirely fresh and bright2 the green of trees2 and certain elements of purple1 far more rich and beautiful than we generally should think1 in their bark and shadows 7bare hedges and thickets1 or tops of trees1 in subdued afternoon sunshine1 are nearly perfect purple1 and of an exquisite tone71 as well as in ploughed fields1 and dark ground in general4 ,but among mountains1 in addition to all this1 large unbroken spaces of pure violet and purple are introduced in their distances2 and even near1 by films of cloud passing over the darkness of ravines or forests1 blues are produced of the most subtle tenderness2 these azures and purples#ajg passing into rose-color of otherwise wholly unattainable delicacy among the upper summits1 the blue of the sky being at the same time purer and deeper than in the plains4 ,nay1 in some sense1 a person who has never seen the rose-color of the rays of dawn crossing a blue mountain twelve or fifteen miles away1 can hardly be said to know what tenderness in color means at all2 bright tenderness he may1 indeed1 see in the sky or in a flower1 but this grave tenderness of the far-away hill-purples he cannot conceive4 #e4 ,together with this great source of preeminence in mass of color1 we have to estimate the influence of the finished inlaying and enamel-work of the color-jewellery on every stone2 and that of the continual variety in species of flower2 most of the mountain flowers being1 besides1 separately lovelier than the lowland ones4 ,the wood hyacinth and wild rose are1 indeed1 the only supreme flowers that the lowlands can generally show2 and the wild rose is also a mountaineer1 and more fragrant in the hills1 while the wood hyacinth1 or grape hyacinth1 at its best cannot match even the dark bell-gentian1 leaving the light-blue star-gentian in its uncontested queenliness1 and the ,alpine rose and ,highland heather wholly without similitude4 ,the violet1 lily of the valley1 crocus1 and wood anemone are1 ,i suppose1 claimable partly by the plains as well as the hills2 but the large orange lily and narcissus ,i have never seen but on hill pastures1 and the exquisite oxalis is preeminently a mountaineer4#ajh #f4 ,to this supremacy in mosses and flowers we have next to add an inestimable gain in the continual presence and power of water4 ,neither in its clearness1 its color1 its fantasy of motion1 its calmness of space1 depth1 and reflection1 or its wrath1 can water be conceived by a lowlander1 out of sight of sea4 ,a sea wave is far grander than any torrent--but of the sea and its influences we are not now speaking2 and the sea itself1 though it can be clear1 is never calm1 among our shores1 in the sense that a mountain lake can be calm4 ,the sea seems only to pause2 the mountain lake to sleep1 and to dream4 ,out of sight of the ocean1 a lowlander cannot be considered ever to have seen water at all4 ,the mantling of the pools in the rock shadows1 with the golden flakes of light sinking down through them like falling leaves1 the ringing of the thin currents among the shallows1 the flash and the cloud of the cascade1 the earthquake and foam-fire of the cataract1 the long lines of alternate mirror and mist that lull the imagery of the hills reversed in the blue of morning1--all these things belong to those hills as their undivided inheritance4 #g4 ,to this supremacy in wave and stream is joined a no less manifest preeminence in the character of trees4 ,it is possible among plains1 in the species of trees which properly belong to them1 the poplars of ,amiens1 for instance1 to obtain a serene simplicity of grace1 which1 as ,i said1 is a better help to the study of gracefulness1 as such1 than any of the wilder groupings of the hills2 so also1 there are certain conditions of symmetrical luxuriance developed in the park and avenue1 rarely rivalled in their way among mountains2 and yet the mountain superiority in foliage is1 on the whole1 nearly as complete as it is in water2 for exactly as there are some expressions in the broad reaches of a navigable lowland river1 such as the ,loire or ,thames1 not1 in their way1 to be matched among the rock rivers1 and yet for all that a lowlander cannot be said to have truly seen the element of water at all2 so even in his richest parks and avenues he cannot be said to have truly seen trees4 ,for the resources of trees are not developed until they have difficulty to contend with2 neither their tenderness of brotherly love and harmony1 till they are forced to choose their ways of various life where there is contracted room for them1 talking to each other with their restrained branches4 ,the various action of trees rooting themselves in inhospitable rocks1 stooping to look into ravines1 hiding from the search of glacier winds1 reaching forth to the rays of rare sunshine1 crowding down together to drink at sweetest streams1 climbing hand in hand among the difficult slopes1 opening in sudden dances round the mossy knolls1 gathering into companies at rest among the fragrant fields1 gliding in grave procession over the heavenward ridges1--nothing of this can be conceived among the unvexed and unvaried felicities of the lowland forest3 while to all these direct sources of greater beauty are added1 first the power of redundance1--the mere quantity of foliage visible in the folds and on the promontories of a single ,alp being greater than that of an entire lowland landscape 7unless a view from some cathedral tower72 and to this charm of redundance1 that of clearer visibility1--tree after tree being constantly shown in successive height1 one behind another1 instead of the mere tops and flanks of masses1 as in the plains2 and the forms of multitudes of them continually defined against the clear sky1 near and above1 or against white clouds entangled among their branches1 instead of being confused in dimness of distance4 #h4 ,finally1 to this supremacy in foliage we have to add the still less questionable supremacy in clouds4 ,there is no effect of sky possible in the lowlands which may not in equal perfection be seen among the hills2 but there are effects by tens of thousands1 for ever invisible and inconceivable to the inhabitant of the plains1 manifested among the hills in the course of one day4 ,the mere power of familiarity with the clouds1 of walking with them and above them1 alters and renders clear our whole conception of the baseless architecture of the sky2 and for the beauty of it1 there is more in a single wreath of early cloud1 pacing its way up an avenue of pines1 or pausing among the points of their fringes1 than in all the white heaps that fill the arched sky of the plains from one horizon to the other4 ,and of the nobler cloud manifestations1--the breaking of their troublous seas against the crags1 their black spray sparkling with lightning2 or the going forth of the morning along their pavements of moving marble1 level-laid between dome and dome of snow2--of these things there can be as little imagination or understanding in an inhabitant of the plains as of the scenery of another planet than his own4 #i4 ,and1 observe1 all these superiorities are matters plainly measurable and calculable1 not in any wise to be referred to estimate of sensation4 ,of the grandeur or expression of the hills ,i have not spoken2 how far they are great1 or strong1 or terrible1 ,i do not for the moment consider1 because vastness1 and strength1 and terror1 are not to all minds subjects of desired contemplation4 ,it may make no difference to some men whether a natural object be large or small1 whether it be strong or feeble4 ,but loveliness of color1 perfectness of form1 endlessness of change1 wonderfulness of structure1 are precious to all undiseased human minds2 and the superiority of the mountains in all these things to the lowland is1 ,i repeat1 as measurable as the richness of a painted window matched with a white one1 or the wealth of a museum compared with that of a simply furnished chamber4 ,they seem to have been built for the human race1 as at once their schools and cathedrals2 full of treasures of illuminated manuscript for the scholar1 kindly in simple lessons to the worker1 quiet in pale cloisters for the thinker1 glorious in holiness for the worshipper4 ,and of these great cathedrals of the earth1 with their gates of rock1 pavements of cloud1 choirs of stream and stone1 altars of snow1 and vaults of purple traversed by the continual stars1--of these1 as we have seen1 it was written1 nor long ago1 by one of the best of the poor human race for whom they were built1 wondering in himself for whom their ,creator could have made them1 and thinking to have entirely discerned the ,divine intent in them--,they are inhabited by the ,beasts4 #aj4 ,was it then indeed thus with us1 and so lately8 ,had mankind offered no worship in their mountain churches8 ,was all that granite sculpture and floral painting done by the angels in vain8 ,not so4 ,it will need no prolonged thought to convince us that in the hills the purposes of their ,maker have indeed been accomplished in such measure as1 through the sin or folly of men1 ,he ever permits them to be accomplished4 ,it may not seem1 from the general language held concerning them1 or from any directly traceable results1 that mountains have had serious influence on human intellect2 but it will not1 ,i think1 be difficult to show that their occult influence has been both constant and essential to the progress of the race4 #aa4 ,consider1 first1 whether we can justly refuse to attribute to their mountain scenery some share in giving the ,greeks and ,italians their intellectual lead among the nations of ,europe4 ,there is not a single spot of land in either of these countries from which mountains are not discernible2 almost always they form the principal feature of the scenery4 ,the mountain outlines seen from ,sparta1 ,corinth1 ,athens1 ,rome1 ,florence1 ,pisa1 ,verona1 are of consummate beauty2 and whatever dislike or contempt may be traceable in the mind of the ,greeks for mountain ruggedness1 their placing the shrine of ,apollo under the cliffs of ,delphi1 and his throne upon ,parnassus1 was a testimony to all succeeding time that they themselves attributed the best part of their intellectual inspiration to the power of the hills4 ,nor would it be difficult to show that every great writer of either of those nations1 however little definite regard he might manifest for the landscape of his country1 had been mentally formed and disciplined by it1 so that even such enjoyment as ,homer's of the ploughed ground and poplar groves owes its intensity and delicacy to the excitement of the imagination produced1 without his own consciousness1 by other and grander features of the scenery to which he had been accustomed from a child2 and differs in every respect from the tranquil1 vegetative1 and prosaic affection with which the same ploughed land and poplars would be regarded by a native of the ,netherlands4 ,the vague expression which ,i have just used--intellectual lead1 may be expanded into four great heads2 lead in ,religion1 ,art and ,literature1 ,war1 and ,social ,economy4 #ab4 ,it will be right to examine our subject eventually under these four heads2 but ,i shall limit myself1 for the present1 to some consideration of the first two1 for a reason presently to be stated4 #ast4 ,influence of mountains on religious temperament4 ,i4 ,we have before had occasion to note the peculiar awe with which mountains were regarded in the middle ages1 as bearing continual witness against the frivolity or luxury of the world4 ,though the sense of this influence of theirs is perhaps more clearly expressed by the medival ,christians than by any other sect of religionists1 the influence itself has been constant in all time4 ,mountains have always possessed the power1 first1 of exciting religious enthusiasm2 secondly1 of purifying religious faith4 ,these two operations are partly contrary to one another3 for the faith of enthusiasm is apt to be impure1 and the mountains1 by exciting morbid conditions of the imagination1 have caused in great part the legendary and romantic forms of belief2 on the other hand1 by fostering simplicity of life and dignity of morals1 they have purified by action what they falsified by imagination4 ,but1 even in their first and most dangerous influence1 it is not the mountains that are to blame1 but the human heart4 ,while we mourn over the fictitious shape given to the religious visions of the anchorite1 we may envy the sincerity and the depth of the emotion from which they spring3 in the deep feeling1 we have to acknowledge the solemn influences of the hills2 but for the erring modes or forms of thought1 it is human wilfulness1 sin1 and false teaching1 that are answerable4 ,we are not to deny the nobleness of the imagination because its direction is illegitimate1 nor the pathos of the legend because its circumstances are groundless2 the ardor and abstraction of the spiritual life are to be honored in themselves1 though the one may be misguided and the other deceived2 and the deserts of ,osma1 ,assisi1 and ,monte ,viso are still to be thanked for the zeal they gave1 or guarded1 whether we find it in ,st4 ,francis and ,st4 ,dominic1 or in those whom ,god's hand hid from them in the clefts of the rocks4 #ac4 ,and1 in fact1 much of the apparently harmful influence of hills on the religion of the world is nothing else than their general gift of exciting the poetical and inventive faculties1 in peculiarly solemn tones of mind4 ,their terror leads into devotional casts of thought2 their beauty and wildness prompt the invention at the same time2 and where the mind is not gifted with stern reasoning powers1 or protected by purity of teaching1 it is sure to mingle the invention with its creed1 and the vision with its prayer4 ,strictly speaking1 we ought to consider the superstitions of the hills1 universally1 as a form of poetry2 regretting only that men have not yet learned how to distinguish poetry from well-founded faith4 ,and if we do this1 and enable ourselves thus to review1 without carping or sneering1 the shapes of solemn imagination which have arisen among the inhabitants of ,europe1 we shall find1 on the one hand1 the mountains of ,greece and ,italy forming all the loveliest dreams1 first of the ,pagan1 then of the ,christian mythology2 on the other1 those of ,scandinavia to be the first sources of whatever mental 7as well as military7 power was brought by the ,normans into ,southern ,europe4 ,normandy itself is to all intents and purposes a hill country2 composed1 over large extents1 of granite and basalt1 often rugged and covered with heather on the summits1 and traversed by beautiful and singular dells1 at once soft and secluded1 fruitful and wild4 ,we have thus one branch of the ,northern religious imagination rising among the ,scandinavian fiords1 tempered in ,france by various encounters with elements of ,arabian1 ,italian1 ,provenal1 or other ,southern poetry1 and then reacting upon ,southern ,england2 while other forms of the same rude religious imagination1 resting like clouds upon the mountains of ,scotland and ,wales1 met and mingled with the ,norman ,christianity1 retaining even to the latest times some dark color of superstition1 but giving all its poetical and military pathos to ,scottish poetry1 and a peculiar sternness and wildness of tone to the ,reformed faith1 in its manifestations among the ,scottish hills4 #ad4 ,it is on less disputable ground that ,i may claim the reader's gratitude to the mountains1 as having been the centres not only of imaginative energy1 but of purity both in doctrine and practice4 ,the enthusiasm of the persecuted ,covenanter1 and his variously modified claims to miraculous protection or prophetic inspiration1 hold exactly the same relation to the smooth proprieties of lowland ,protestantism1 that the demon-combats1 fastings1 visions1 and miracles of the mountain monk or anchorite hold to the wealth and worldliness of the ,vatican4 ,it might indeed happen1 whether at ,canterbury1 ,rheims1 or ,rome1 that a good bishop should occasionally grasp the crozier2 and a vast amount of prudent1 educated1 and admirable piety is to be found among the ranks of the lowland clergy4 ,but still the large aspect of the matter is always1 among ,protestants1 that formalism1 respectability1 orthodoxy1 caution1 and propriety1 live by the slow stream that encircles the lowland abbey or cathedral2 and that enthusiasm1 poverty1 vital faith1 and audacity of conduct1 characterize the pastor dwelling by the torrent side4 ,in like manner1 taking the large aspects of ,romanism1 we see that its worst corruptions1 its cunning1 its worldliness1 and its permission of crime1 are traceable for the most part to lowland prelacy2 but its self-denials1 its obediences1 humilities1 sincere claims to miraculous power1 and faithful discharges of pastoral duty1 are traceable chiefly to its anchorites and mountain clergy4 #ae4 ,it is true that the ,lady ,poverty of ,st4 ,francis may share the influence of the hills in the formation of character2 and that1 since the clergy who have little interest at court or conclave are those who in general will be driven to undertake the hill services1 we must often attribute to enforced simplicity of life1 or natural bitterness of feeling1 some of the tones of thought which we might otherwise have ascribed to the influence of mountain scenery4 ,such causes1 however1 affect the lowland as much as the highland religious character in all districts far from cities2 but they do not produce the same effects4 ,the curate or hermit of the field and fen1 however simple his life1 or painful his lodging1 does not often attain the spirit of the hill pastor or recluse3 we may find in him a decent virtue or a contented ignorance1 rarely the prophetic vision or the martyr's passion4 ,among the fair arable lands of ,england and ,belgium extends an orthodox ,protestantism or ,catholicism2 prosperous1 creditable1 and drowsy2 but it is among the purple moors of the highland border1 the ravines of ,mont ,genvre1 and the crags of the ,tyrol1 that we shall find the simplest ,evangelical faith1 and the purest ,romanist practice4 #af4 ,of course the inquiry into this branch of the hill influence is partly complicated with that into its operation on domestic habits and personal character1 of which hereafter3 but there is one curious witness borne to the general truth of the foregone conclusions1 by an apparently slight1 yet very significant circumstance in art4 ,we have seen1 in the preceding volume1 how difficult it was sometimes to distinguish between honest painters1 who truly chose to paint sacred subjects because they loved them1 and the affected painters1 who took sacred subjects for their own pride's sake1 or for merely artistical delight4 ,amongst other means of arriving at a conclusion in this matter1 there is one helpful test which may be applied to their various works1 almost as easily and certainly as a foot-rule could be used to measure their size2 and which remains an available test down to the date of the rise of the ,claudesque landscape schools4 ,nearly all the genuine religious painters use steep mountain distances4 ,all the merely artistical ones1 or those of intermediate temper1 in proportion as they lose the religious element1 use flat or simply architectural distances4 ,of course the law is liable to many exceptions1 chiefly dependent on the place of birth and early associations of painters2 but its force is1 ,i think1 strongly shown in this2--that1 though the ,flemish painters never showed any disposition to paint1 for its own sake1 other scenery than of their own land 7compare ,vol4 ,,iii4 ,chap4 ,,xiii4 #bj71 the sincerely religious ones continually used ,alpine distances1 bright with snow4 ,in like manner ,giotto1 ,perugino1 ,angelico1 the young ,raphael1 and ,john ,bellini1 always1 if1 with any fitness to their subject1 they can introduce them1 use craggy or blue mountain distances1 and this with definite expression of love towards them2 ,leonardo1 conventionally1 as feeling they were necessary for his sacred subjects1 while yet his science and idealism had destroyed his mountain sincerity2 ,michael ,angelo1 wholly an artist1 and ,raphael in later years1 show no love of mountains whatever1 while the relative depths of feeling in ,tintoret1 ,titian1 and ,veronese1 are precisely measurable by their affection to mountains4 ,tintoret1 though born in ,venice1 yet1 because capable of the greatest reaches of feeling1 is the first of the old painters who ever drew mountain detail rightly3#aji ,titian1 though born in ,cadore1 and recurring to it constantly1 yet being more worldly-minded1 uses his hills somewhat more conventionally1 though1 still in his most deeply felt pictures1 such as the ,st4 ,jerome1 in the ,brera1 giving to the rocks and forests a consummate nobleness2 and ,veronese1 in his gay grasp of the outside aspects of the world1 contentedly includes his philosophy within porticos and pillars1 or at the best overshadows it with a few sprays of laurel4 #ag4 ,the test fails1 however1 utterly1 when applied to the later or transitional landscape schools1 mountains being there introduced in mere wanton savageness by ,salvator1 or vague conventionalism by ,claude1 ,berghem1 and hundreds more4 ,this need not1 however1 in the least invalidate our general conclusions3 we surely know already that it is possible to misuse the best gifts1 and pervert the purest feelings2 nor need we doubt the real purpose1 or1 on honest hearts1 the real effect1 of mountains1 because various institutions have been founded among them by the banditti of ,calabria1 as well as by ,st4 ,bruno4 #ah4 ,i cannot leave this part of my subject without recording a slight incident which happened to myself1 singularly illustrative of the religious character of the ,alpine peasant when under favorable circumstances of teaching4 ,i was coming down one evening from the ,rochers de ,naye1 above ,montreux1 having been at work among the limestone rocks1 where ,i could get no water1 and both weary and thirsty4 ,coming to a spring at a turn of the path1 conducted1 as usual1 by the herdsmen into a hollowed pine-trunk ,i stooped to it and drank deeply3 as ,i raised my head1 drawing breath heavily1 some one behind me said1 ,celui qui boira de cette eau-ci1 aura encore soif4 ,i turned1 not understanding for the moment what was meant2 and saw one of the hill-peasants1 probably returning to his chlet from the market-place at ,vevay or ,villeneuve4 ,as ,i looked at him with an uncomprehending expression1 he went on with the verse3--,mais celui qui boira de l'eau que je lui donnerai1 n'aura jamais soif4 ,i doubt if this would have been thought of1 or said1 by even the most intelligent lowland peasant4 ,the thought might have occurred to him1 but the frankness of address1 and expectation of being at once understood without a word of preparative explanation1 as if the language of the ,bible were familiar to all men1 mark1 ,i think1 the mountaineer4 #bnd4 ,influence of mountain on artistical power4 #ai4 ,we were next to examine the influence of hills on the artistical power of the human race4 ,which power1 so far as it depends on the imagination1 must evidently be fostered by the same influences which give vitality to religious vision4 ,but1 so far as artistical productiveness and skill are concerned1 it is evident that the mountaineer is at a radical and insurmountable disadvantage4 ,the strength of his character depends upon the absence of luxury2 but it is eminently by luxury that art is supported4 ,we are not1 therefore1 to deny the mountain influence1 because we do not find finished frescoes on the timbers of chlets or delicate bas-reliefs on the bastion which protects the mountain church from the avalanche2 but to consider how far the tone of mind shown by the artists laboring in the lowland is dependent for its intensity on the distant influences of the hills1 whether during the childhood of those born among them1 or under the casual contemplation of men advanced in life4 #bj4 ,glancing broadly over the strength of the medival--that is to say1 of the peculiar and energetic--art of ,europe1 so as to discern1 through the clear flowing of its waves over ,france1 ,italy1 and ,england1 the places in the pool where the fountain-heads are1 and where the sand dances1 ,i should first point to ,normandy and ,tuscany4 ,from the cathedral of ,pisa1 and the sculpture of the ,pisans1 the course is straight to ,giotto1 ,angelico1 and ,raphael1--to ,orcagna and ,michael ,angelo2--the ,venetian school1 in many respects mightier1 being1 nevertheless1 subsequent and derivative4 ,from the cathedrals of ,caen and ,coutances the course is straight to the ,gothic of ,chartres and ,notre ,dame of ,paris1 and thence forward to all ,french and ,english noble art1 whether ecclesiastical or domestic4 ,now the mountain scenery about ,pisa is precisely the most beautiful that surrounds any great ,italian city1 owing to the wonderful outlines of the peaks of ,carrara4 ,milan and ,verona have indeed fine ranges in sight1 but rising farther in the distance1 and therefore not so directly affecting the popular mind4 ,the ,norman imagination1 as already noticed1 is ,scandinavian in origin1 and fostered by the lovely granite scenery of ,normandy itself4 ,but there is1 nevertheless1 this great difference between ,french art and ,italian1 that the ,french paused strangely at a certain point1 as the ,norman hills are truncated at the summits1 while the ,italian rose steadily to a vertex1 as the ,carrara hills to their crests4 ,let us observe this a little more in detail4 #ba4 ,the sculpture of the ,pisans was taken up and carried into various perfection by the ,lucchese1 ,pistojans1 ,sienese1 and ,florentines4 ,all these are inhabitants of truly mountain cities1 ,florence being as completely among the hills as ,inspruck is1 only the hills have softer outlines4 ,those around ,pistoja and ,lucca are in a high degree majestic4 ,giotto was born and bred among these hills4 ,angelico lived upon their slope4 ,the mountain towns of ,perugia and ,urbino furnish the only important branches of correlative art2 for ,leonardo1 however individually great1 originated no new school2 he only carried the executive delicacy of landscape detail so far beyond other painters as to necessitate my naming the fifteenth-century manner of landscape after him1 though he did not invent it2 and although the school of ,milan is distinguished by several peculiarities1 and definitely enough separable from the other schools of ,italy1 all its peculiarities are mannerisms1 not inventions4 ,correggio1 indeed1 created a new school1 though he himself is almost its only master4 ,i have given in the preceding volume the mountain outline seen from ,parma4 ,but the only entirely great group of painters after the ,tuscans are the ,venetians1 and they are headed by ,titian and ,tintoret1 on whom we have noticed the influence of hills already2 and although we cannot trace it in ,paul ,veronese1 ,i will not quit the mountain claim upon him2 for ,i believe all that gay and gladdening strength of his was fed by the breezes of the hills of ,garda1 and brightened by the swift glancing of the waves of the ,adige4#aaj #bb4 ,observe1 however1 before going farther1 of all the painters we have named1 the one who obtains most executive perfection is ,leonardo1 who on the whole lived at the greatest distance from the hills4 ,the two who have most feeling are ,giotto and ,angelico1 both hill-bred4 ,and generally1 ,i believe1 we shall find that the hill country gives its inventive depths of feeling to art1 as in the work of ,orcagna1 ,perugino1 and ,angelico1 and the plain country executive neatness4 ,the executive precision is joined with feeling in ,leonardo1 who saw the ,alps in the distance2 it is totally unaccompanied by feeling in the pure ,dutch schools1 or schools of the dead flats4 #bc4 ,i do not know if any writer on art1 or on the development of national mind1 has given his attention to what seems to me one of the most singular phenomena in the history of ,europe1--the pause of the ,english and ,french in pictorial art after the fourteenth century4 ,from the days of ,henry ,,iii4 to those of ,elizabeth1 and of ,louis ,,ix4 to those of ,louis ,,xiv41 the general intellect of the two nations was steadily on the increase4 ,but their art intellect was as steadily retrograde4 ,the only art work that ,france and ,england have done nobly is that which is centralized by the ,cathedral of ,lincoln1 and the ,sainte ,chapelle4 ,we had at that time 7we--,french and ,english--but the ,french first7 the incontestable lead among ,european nations2 no thirteenth-century work in ,italy is comparable for majesty of conception1 or wealth of imaginative detail1 to the cathedrals of ,chartres1 ,rheims1 ,rouen1 ,amiens1 ,lincoln1 ,peterborough1 ,wells1 or ,lichfield4 ,but every hour of the fourteenth century saw ,french and ,english art in precipitate decline1 ,italian in steady ascent2 and by the time that painting and sculpture had developed themselves in an approximated perfection1 in the work of ,ghirlandajo and ,mino of ,fsole1 we had in ,france and ,england no workman1 in any art1 deserving a workman's name2 nothing but skilful masons1 with more or less love of the picturesque1 and redundance of undisciplined imagination1 flaming itself away in wild and rich traceries1 and crowded bosses of grotesque figure sculpture1 and expiring at last in barbarous imitation of the perfected skill and erring choice of ,renaissance ,italy4 ,painting could not decline1 for it had not reached any eminence2 the exquisite arts of illumination and glass design had led to no effective results in other materials2 they themselves1 incapable of any higher perfection than they had reached in the thirteenth century1 perished in the vain endeavor to emulate pictorial excellence1 bad drawing being substituted1 in books1 for lovely writing1 and opaque precision1 in glass1 for transparent power2 nor in any single department of exertion did artists arise of such calibre or class as any of the great ,italians2 and yet all the while1 in literature1 we were gradually and steadily advancing in power up to the time of ,shakespere2 the ,italians1 on the contrary1 not advancing after the time of ,dante4 #bd4 ,of course ,i have no space here to pursue a question such as this2 but ,i may state my belief that one of the conditions involved in it was the mountain influence of ,italian scenery1 inducing a disposition to such indolent or enthusiastic reverie1 as could only express itself in the visions of art2 while the comparatively flat scenery and severer climate of ,england and ,france1 fostering less enthusiasm1 and urging to more exertion1 brought about a practical and rational temperament1 progressive in policy1 science1 and literature1 but wholly retrograde in art2 that is to say 7for great art may be properly so defined71 in the ,art of ,dreaming4 #crd4 ,influence of mountains on literary power4 #be4 ,,iii4 ,in admitting this1 we seem to involve the supposition that mountain influence is either unfavorable or inessential to literary power2 but for this also the mountain influence is still necessary1 only in a subordinate degree4 ,it is true1 indeed1 that the ,avon is no mountain torrent1 and that the hills round the vale of ,stratford are not sublime2 true1 moreover1 that the cantons ,berne or ,uri have never yet1 so far as ,i know1 produced a great poet2 but neither1 on the other hand1 has ,antwerp or ,amsterdam4 ,and1 ,i believe1 the natural scenery which will be found1 on the whole1 productive of most literary intellect is that mingled of hill and plain1 as all available light is of flame and darkness2 the flame being the active element1 and the darkness the tempering one4 #bf4 ,in noting such evidence as bears upon this subject1 the reader must always remember that the mountains are at an unfair disadvantage1 in being much out of the way of the masses of men employed in intellectual pursuits4 ,the position of a city is dictated by military necessity or commercial convenience2 it rises1 flourishes1 and absorbs into its activity whatever leading intellect is in the surrounding population4 ,the persons who are able and desirous to give their children education naturally resort to it2 the best schools1 the best society1 and the strongest motives assist and excite those born within its walls2 and youth after youth rises to distinction out of its streets1 while among the blue mountains1 twenty miles away1 the goatherds live and die in unregarded lowliness4 ,and yet this is no proof that the mountains have little effect upon the mind1 or that the streets have a helpful one4 ,the men who are formed by the schools1 and polished by the society of the capital1 may yet in many ways have their powers shortened by the absence of natural scenery2 and the mountaineer1 neglected1 ignorant1 and unambitious1 may have been taught things by the clouds and streams which he could not have learned in a college1 or a coterie4 #bg4 ,and in reasoning about the effect of mountains we are therefore under a difficulty like that which would occur to us if we had to determine the good or bad effect of light on the human constitution1 in some place where all corporal exercise was necessarily in partial darkness1 and only idle people lived in the light4 ,the exercise might give an advantage to the occupants of the gloom1 but we should neither be justified in therefore denying the preciousness of light in general1 nor the necessity to the workers of the few rays they possessed2 and thus ,i suppose the hills around ,stratford1 and such glimpses as ,shakespere had of sandstone and pines in ,warwickshire1 or of chalk cliffs in ,kent1 to have been essential to the development of his genius4 ,this supposition can only be proved false by the rising of a ,shakespere at ,rotterdam or ,bergen-op-,zoom1 which ,i think not probable2 whereas1 on the other hand1 it is confirmed by myriads of collateral evidences4 ,the matter could only be tested by placing for half a century the ,british universities at ,keswick1 and ,beddgelert1 and making ,grenoble the capital of ,france2 but if1 throughout the history of ,britain and ,france1 we contrast the general invention and pathetic power1 in ballads or legends1 of the inhabitants of the ,scottish ,border with those manifested in ,suffolk or ,essex2 and similarly the inventive power of ,normandy1 ,provence1 and the ,bearnois with that of ,champagne or ,picardy1 we shall obtain some convincing evidence respecting the operation of hills on the masses of mankind1 and be disposed to admit1 with less hesitation1 that the apparent inconsistencies in the effect of scenery on greater minds proceed in each case from specialities of education1 accident1 and original temper1 which it would be impossible to follow out in detail4 ,sometimes only1 when the original resemblance in character of intellect is very marked in two individuals1 and they are submitted to definitely contrary circumstances of education1 an approximation to evidence may be obtained4 ,thus ,bacon and ,pascal appear to be men naturally very similar in their temper and powers of mind4 ,one1 born in ,york ,house1 ,strand1 of courtly parents1 educated in court atmosphere1 and replying1 almost as soon as he could speak1 to the queen asking how old he was--,two years younger than ,your ,majesty's happy reign6--has the world's meanness and cunning engrafted into his intellect1 and remains smooth1 serene1 unenthusiastic1 and in some degree base1 even with all his sincere devotion and universal wisdom2 bearing1 to the end of life1 the likeness of a marble palace in the street of a great city1 fairly furnished within1 and bright in wall and battlement1 yet noisome in places about the foundations4 ,the other1 born at ,clermont1 in ,auvergne1 under the shadow of the ,puy de ,dme1 though taken to ,paris at eight years old1 retains for ever the impress of his birthplace2 pursuing natural philosophy with the same zeal as ,bacon1 he returns to his own mountains to put himself under their tutelage1 and by their help first discovers the great relations of the earth and the air3 struck at last with mortal disease2 gloomy1 enthusiastic1 and superstitious1 with a conscience burning like lava1 and inflexible like iron1 the clouds gather about the majesty of him1 fold after fold2 and1 with his spirit buried in ashes1 and rent by earthquake1 yet fruitful of true thought and faithful affection1 he stands like that mound of desolate scoria that crowns the hill ranges of his native land1 with its sable summit far in heaven1 and its foundations green with the ordered garden and the trellised vine4 #bh4 ,when1 however1 our inquiry thus branches into the successive analysis of individual characters1 it is time for us to leave it2 noting only one or two points respecting ,shakespere1 whom1 ,i doubt not1 the reader was surprised to find left out of all our comparisons in the preceding volume4 ,he seems to have been sent essentially to take universal and equal grasp of the human nature2 and to have been removed1 therefore1 from all influences which could in the least warp or bias his thoughts4 ,it was necessary that he should lean no way2 that he should contemplate1 with absolute equality of judgment1 the life of the court1 cloister1 and tavern1 and be able to sympathize so completely with all creatures as to deprive himself1 together with his personal identity1 even of his conscience1 as he casts himself into their hearts4 ,he must be able to enter into the soul of ,falstaff or ,shylock with no more sense of contempt or horror than ,falstaff or ,shylock themselves feel for or in themselves2 otherwise his own conscience and indignation would make him unjust to them2 he would turn aside from something1 miss some good1 or overlook some essential palliation4 ,he must be utterly without anger1 utterly without purpose2 for if a man has any serious purpose in life1 that which runs counter to it1 or is foreign to it1 will be looked at frowningly or carelessly by him4 ,shakespere was forbidden of ,heaven to have any plans4 ,to do any good or get any good1 in the common sense of good1 was not to be within his permitted range of work4 ,not1 for him1 the founding of institutions1 the preaching of doctrines1 or the repression of abuses4 ,neither he1 nor the sun1 did on any morning that they rose together1 receive charge from their ,maker concerning such things4 ,they were both of them to shine on the evil and good2 both to behold unoffendedly all that was upon the earth1 to burn unappalled upon the spears of kings1 and undisdaining1 upon the reeds of the river4 #bi4 ,therefore1 so far as nature had influence over the early training of this man1 it was essential to his perfectness that the nature should be quiet4 ,no mountain passions were to be allowed in him4 ,inflict upon him but one pang of the monastic conscience2 cast upon him but one cloud of the mountain gloom2 and his serenity had been gone for ever--his equity--his infinity4 ,you would have made another ,dante of him2 and all that he would have ever uttered about poor1 soiled1 and frail humanity would have been the quarrel between ,sinon and ,adam of ,brescia1--speedily retired from1 as not worthy a man's hearing1 nay1 not to be heard without heavy fault4 ,all your ,falstaffs1 ,slenders1 ,quicklys1 ,sir ,tobys1 ,lances1 ,touchstones1 and ,quinces would have been lost in that4 ,shakespere could be allowed no mountains2 nay1 not even any supreme natural beauty4 ,he had to be left with his kingcups and clover2--pansies--the passing clouds--the ,avon's flow--and the undulating hills and woods of ,warwick2 nay1 he was not to love even these in any exceeding measure1 lest it might make him in the least overrate their power upon the strong1 full-fledged minds of men4 ,he makes the quarrelling fairies concerned about them2 poor lost ,ophelia find some comfort in them2 fearful1 fair1 wise-hearted ,perdita trust the speaking of her good will and good hostess-ship to them2 and one of the brothers of ,imogen confide his sorrow to them1--rebuked instantly by his brother for wench-like words2#aaa but any thought of them in his mighty men ,i do not find3 it is not usually in the nature of such men2 and if he had loved the flowers the least better himself1 he would assuredly have been offended at this1 and given a botanical turn of mind to ,csar1 or ,othello4 #cj4 ,and it is even among the most curious proofs of the necessity to all high imagination that it should paint straight from the life1 that he has not given such a turn of mind to some of his great men2--,henry the ,fifth1 for instance4 ,doubtless some of my readers1 having been accustomed to hear it repeated thoughtlessly from mouth to mouth that ,shakespere conceived the spirit of all ages1 were as much offended as surprised at my saying that he only painted human nature as he saw it in his own time4 ,they will find1 if they look into his work closely1 as much antiquarianism as they do geography1 and no more4 ,the commonly received notions about the things that had been1 ,shakespere took as he found them1 animating them with pure human nature1 of any time and all time2 but inquiries into the minor detail of temporary feeling1 he despised as utterly as he did maps2 and wheresoever the temporary feeling was in anywise contrary to that of his own day1 he errs frankly1 and paints from his own time4 ,for instance in this matter of love of flowers2 we have traced already1 far enough for our general purposes1 the medival interest in them1 whether to be enjoyed in the fields1 or to be used for types of ornamentation in dress4 ,if ,shakespere had cared to enter into the spirit even of the early fifteenth century1 he would assuredly have marked this affection in some of his knights1 and indicated1 even then1 in heroic tempers1 the peculiar respect for loveliness of dress which we find constantly in ,dante4 ,but he could not do this2 he had not seen it in real life4 ,in his time dress had become an affectation and absurdity4 ,only fools1 or wise men in their weak moments1 showed much concern about it2 and the facts of human nature which appeared to him general in the matter were the soldier's disdain1 and the coxcomb's care of it4 ,hence ,shakespere's good soldier is almost always in plain or battered armor2 even the speech of ,vernon in ,henry the ,fourth1 which1 as far as ,i remember1 is the only one that bears fully upon the beauty of armor1 leans more upon the spirit and hearts of men--bated1 like eagles having lately bathed2 and has an under-current of slight contempt running through the following line1 ,glittering in golden coats1 like images2 while the beauty of the young ,harry is essentially the beauty of fiery and perfect youth1 answering as much to the ,greek1 or ,roman1 or ,elizabethan knight as to the medival one2 whereas the definite interest in armor and dress is opposed by ,shakespere in the ,french 7meaning to depreciate them71 to the ,english rude soldierliness3 ,con4 ,tut1 ,i have the best armor in the world4 ,would it were day6 ,orl4 ,you have an excellent armor1 but let my horse have his due4 ,and again3 ,my lord constable1 the armor that ,i saw in your tent to-night1 are those stars1 or suns1 upon it8 while ,henry1 half proud of his poorness of array1 speaks of armorial splendor scornfully2 the main idea being still of its being a gilded show and vanity-- ,our gayness and our gilt are all besmirched4 ,this is essentially ,elizabethan4 ,the quarterings on a knight's shield1 or the inlaying of his armor1 would never have been thought of by him as mere gayness or gilt in earlier days4#aab ,in like manner1 throughout every scale of rank or feeling1 from that of the ,french knights down to ,falstaff's ,i looked he should have sent me two-and-twenty yards of satin1 as ,i am true knight1 and he sends me security6 care for dress is always considered by ,shakespere as contemptible2 and ,mrs4 ,quickly distinguishes herself from a true fairy by her solicitude to scour the chairs of order--and each fair instalment1 coat1 and several crest2 and the association in her mind of the flowers in the fairy rings with the ,sapphire1 pearl1 and rich embroidery1 ,buckled below fair knighthood's bending knee2 while the true fairies1 in field simplicity1 are only anxious to sweep the dust behind the door2 and ,with this field dew consecrate1 ,every several chamber bless ,through this palace with sweet peace4 ,note the expression ,field dew consecrate4 ,shakespere loved courts and camps2 but he felt that sacredness and peace were in the dew of the ,fields only4 #ca4 ,there is another respect in which he was wholly incapable of entering into the spirit of the middle ages4 ,he had no great art of any kind around him in his own country1 and was1 consequently1 just as powerless to conceive the general influence of former art1 as a man of the most inferior calibre4 ,therefore it was1 that ,i did not care to quote his authority respecting the power of imitation1 in the second chapter of the preceding volume4 ,if it had been needful to add his testimony to that of ,dante 7given in #e71 ,i might have quoted multitudes of passages wholly concurring with that1 of which the fair ,portia's counterfeit1 with the following lines1 and the implied ideal of sculpture in the ,winter's ,tale1 are wholly unanswerable instances4 ,but ,shakespere's evidence in matters of art is as narrow as the range of ,elizabethan art in ,england1 and resolves itself wholly into admiration of two things1--mockery of life 7as in this instance of ,hermione as a statue71 or absolute splendor1 as in the close of ,romeo and ,juliet1 where the notion of gold as the chief source of dignity of aspect1 coming down to ,shakespere from the times of the ,field of the ,cloth of ,gold1 and1 as ,i said before1 strictly ,elizabethan1 would interfere seriously with the pathos of the whole passage1 but for the sense of sacrifice implied in it3 ,as rich shall ,romeo by his lady lie ,poor sacrifices of our enmity4 #cb4 ,and observe1 ,i am not giving these examples as proof of any smallness in ,shakespere1 but of his greatness2 that is to say1 of his contentment1 like every other great man who ever breathed1 to paint nothing but what he saw2 and therefore giving perpetual evidence that his sight was of the sixteenth1 and not of the thirteenth century1 beneath all the broad and eternal humanity of his imagination4 ,how far in these modern days1 emptied of splendor1 it may be necessary for great men having certain sympathies for those earlier ages1 to act in this differently from all their predecessors2 and how far they may succeed in the resuscitation of the past by habitually dwelling in all their thoughts among vanished generations1 are questions1 of all practical and present ones concerning art1 the most difficult to decide2 for already in poetry several of our truest men have set themselves to this task1 and have indeed put more vitality into the shadows of the dead than most others can give the presences of the living4 ,thus ,longfellow1 in the ,golden ,legend1 has entered more closely into the temper of the ,monk1 for good and for evil1 than ever yet theological writer or historian1 though they may have given their life's labor to the analysis3 and1 again1 ,robert ,browning is unerring in every sentence he writes of the ,middle ,ages2 always vital1 right1 and profound2 so that in the matter of art1 with which we have been specially concerned1 there is hardly a principle connected with the medival temper1 that he has not struck upon in those seemingly careless and too rugged rhymes of his4 ,there is a curious instance1 by the way1 in a short poem referring to this very subject of tomb and image sculpture2 and illustrating just one of those phases of local human character which1 though belonging to ,shakespere's own age1 he never noticed1 because it was specially ,italian and un-,english2 connected also closely with the influence of mountains on the heart1 and therefore with our immediate inquiries4 ,i mean the kind of admiration with which a southern artist regarded the stone he worked in2 and the pride which populace or priest took in the possession of precious mountain substance1 worked into the pavements of their cathedrals1 and the shafts of their tombs4 #cc4 ,observe1 ,shakespere1 in the midst of architecture and tombs of wood1 or freestone1 or brass1 naturally thinks of gold as the best enriching and ennobling substance for them2--in the midst also of the fever of the ,renaissance he writes1 as every one else did1 in praise of precisely the most vicious master of that school--,giulio ,romano2 but the modern poet1 living much in ,italy1 and quit of the ,renaissance influence1 is able fully to enter into the ,italian feeling1 and to see the evil of the ,renaissance tendency1 not because he is greater than ,shakespere1 but because he is in another element1 and has seen other things4 ,i miss fragments here and there not needed for my purpose in the passage quoted1 without putting asterisks1 for ,i weaken the poem enough by the omissions1 without spoiling it also by breaks4 ,the ,bishop orders his tomb in ,st4 ,praxed's ,church4 ,as here ,i lie ,in this state chamber1 dying by degrees1 ,hours1 and long hours1 in the dead night1 ,i ask1 ,do ,i live--am ,i dead8 ,peace1 peace1 seems all2 ,st4 ,praxed's ever was the church for peace4 ,and so1 about this tomb of mine4 ,i fought ,with tooth and nail to save my niche1 ye know2 ,old ,gandolf#aac cozened me1 despite my care4 ,shrewd was that snatch from out the corner south ,he graced his carrion with4 ,yet still my niche is not so cramped but thence ,one sees the pulpit o' the epistle side1 ,and somewhat of the choir1 those silent seats2 ,and up into the aery dome where live ,the angels1 and a sunbeam's sure to lurk4 ,and ,i shall fill my slab of basalt there1 ,and 'neath my tabernacle take my rest1 ,with those nine columns round me1 two and two1 ,the odd one at my feet1 where ,anselm#aad stands2 ,peach-blossom marble all4 ,swift as a weaver's shuttle fleet our years3 ,man goeth to the grave1 and where is he8 ,did ,i say basalt for my slab1 sons8 ,black-- ',twas ever antique-black#aae ,i meant6 ,how else ,shall ye contrast my frieze to come beneath8 ,the bas-relief in bronze ye promised me1 ,those ,pans and ,nymphs ye wot of1 and perchance ,some tripod1 thyrsus1 with a vase or so1 ,the ,saviour at his sermon on the mount1 ,st4 ,praxed in a glory1 and one ,pan1 ,and ,moses with the tables 444 but ,i know ,ye mark me not6 ,what do they whisper thee1 ,child of my bowels1 ,anselm8 ,ah1 ye hope ,to revel down my villas while ,i gasp1 ,bricked o'er with beggar's mouldy travertine1 ,which ,gandolf from his tomb-top chuckles at6 ,nay1 boys1 ye love me--all of jasper1 then6 ,there's plenty jasper somewhere in the world-- ,and have ,i not ,st4 ,praxed's ear to pray ,horses for ye1 and brown ,greek manuscripts4 ,that's if ye carve my epitaph aright1 ,choice ,latin1 picked phrase1 ,tully's every word1 ,no gaudy ware like ,gandolf's second line-- ,tully1 my masters8 ,ulpian serves his need4 #cd4 ,i know no other piece of modern ,english1 prose or poetry1 in which there is so much told1 as in these lines1 of the ,renaissance spirit1--its worldliness1 inconsistency1 pride1 hypocrisy1 ignorance of itself1 love of art1 of luxury1 and of good ,latin4 ,it is nearly all that ,i said of the central ,renaissance in thirty pages of the ,stones of ,venice put into as many lines1 ,browning's being also the antecedent work4 ,the worst of it is that this kind of concentrated writing needs so much solution before the reader can fairly get the good of it1 that people's patience fails them1 and they give the thing up as insoluble2 though1 truly1 it ought to be to the current of common thought like ,saladin's talisman1 dipped in clear water1 not soluble altogether1 but making the element medicinal4 #ce4 ,it is interesting1 by the way1 with respect to this love of stones in the ,italian mind1 to consider the difference necessitated in the ,english temper merely by the general domestic use of wood instead of marble4 ,in that old ,shakesperian ,england1 men must have rendered a grateful homage to their oak forests1 in the sense of all that they owed to their goodly timbers in the wainscot and furniture of the rooms they loved best1 when the blue of the frosty midnight was contrasted1 in the dark diamonds of the lattice1 with the glowing brown of the warm1 fire-lighted1 crimson-tapestried walls4 ,not less would an ,italian look with a grateful regard on the hill summits1 to which he owed1 in the scorching of his summer noonday1 escape into the marble corridor or crypt palpitating only with cold and smooth variegation of the unfevered mountain veins4 ,in some sort1 as1 both in our stubbornness and our comfort1 we not unfitly describe ourselves typically as ,hearts of ,oak1 the ,italians might in their strange and variegated mingling of passion1 like purple color1 with a cruel sternness1 like white rock1 truly describe themselves as ,hearts of ,stone4 #cf4 ,into this feeling about marble in domestic use1 ,shakespere1 having seen it even in northern luxury1 could partly enter1 and marks it in several passages of his ,italian plays4 ,but if the reader still doubts his limitation to his own experience in all subjects of imagination1 let him consider how the removal from mountain influence in his youth1 so necessary for the perfection of his lower human sympathy1 prevented him from ever rendering with any force the feelings of the mountain anchorite1 or indicating in any of his monks the deep spirit of monasticism4 ,worldly cardinals or nuncios he can fathom to the uttermost2 but where1 in all his thoughts1 do we find ,st4 ,francis1 or ,abbot ,samson8 ,the ,friar of ,shakespere's plays is almost the only stage conventionalism which he admitted2 generally nothing more than a weak old man who lives in a cell1 and has a rope about his waist4 #cg4 ,while1 finally1 in such slight allusions as he makes to mountain scenery itself1 it is very curious to observe the accurate limitation of his sympathies to such things as he had known in his youth2 and his entire preference of human interest1 and of courtly and kingly dignities to the nobleness of the hills4 ,this is most marked in ,cymbeline1 where the term mountaineer is1 as with ,dante1 always one of reproach2 and the noble birth of ,arviragus and ,guiderius is shown by their holding their mountain cave as ,a cell of ignorance2 travelling abed4 ,a prison for a debtor2 and themselves1 educated among hills1 as in all things contemptible3 ,we are beastly2 subtle as the fox1 for prey2 ,like warlike as the wolf1 for what we eat3 ,our valor is to chase what flies2 our cage ,we make our choir1 as doth the prisoned bird4 ,a few phrases occur here and there which might justify the supposition that he had seen high mountains1 but never implying awe or admiration4 ,thus ,demetrius3 ,these things seem small and indistinguishable1 ,like far-off mountains1 turned into clouds4 ,taurus snow1 and the frosty ,caucasus1 are used merely as types of purity or cold2 and though the avalanche is once spoken of as an image of power1 it is with instantly following depreciation3 ,rush on his host1 as doth the melted snow ,upon the valleys1 whose low vassal seat ,the ,alps doth spit and void his rheum upon4 #ch4 ,there was only one thing belonging to hills that ,shakespere seemed to feel as noble--the pine tree1 and that was because he had seen it in ,warwickshire1 clumps of pine occasionally rising on little sandstone mounds1 as at the place of execution of ,piers ,gaveston1 above the lowland woods4 ,he touches on this tree fondly again and again4 ,as rough1 ,their royal blood enchafed1 as the rud'st wind1 ,that by his top doth take the mountain pine1 ,and make him stoop to the vale4 ,the strong-based promontory ,have ,i made shake1 and by the spurs plucked up ,the pine and cedar4 ,where note his observance of the peculiar horizontal roots of the pine1 spurred as it is by them like the claw of a bird1 and partly propped1 as the aiguilles by those rock promontories at their bases which ,i have always called their spurs1 this observance of the pine's strength and animal-like grasp being the chief reason for his choosing it1 above all other trees1 for ,ariel's prison4 ,again3 ,you may as well forbid the mountain pines ,to wag their high tops1 and to make no noise ,when they are fretted with the gusts of heaven4 ,and yet again3 ,but when1 from under this terrestrial ball1 ,he fires the proud tops of the eastern pines4 ,we may judge1 by the impression which this single feature of hill scenery seems to have made on ,shakespere's mind1 because he had seen it in his youth1 how his whole temper would have been changed if he had lived in a more sublime country1 and how essential it was to his power of contemplation of mankind that he should be removed from the sterner influences of nature4 ,for the rest1 so far as ,shakespere's work has imperfections of any kind1--the trivialness of many of his adopted plots1 for instance1 and the comparative rarity with which he admits the ideal of an enthusiastic virtue arising out of principle2 virtue being with him for the most part founded simply on the affections joined with inherent purity in his women or on mere manly pride and honor in his men2#aaf--;in a word1 whatever difference1 involving inferiority1 there exists between him and ,dante1 in his conceptions of the relation between this world and the next1 we may partly trace as we did the difference between ,bacon and ,pascal1 to the less noble character of the scenes around him in his youth2 and admit that1 though it was necessary for his special work that he should be put1 as it were1 on a level with his race1 on those plains of ,stratford1 we should see in this a proof1 instead of a negation1 of the mountain power over human intellect4 ,for breadth and perfectness of condescending sight1 the ,shakesperian mind stands alone2 but in ascending sight it is limited4 ,the breadth of grasp is innate2 the stoop and slightness of it was given by the circumstances of scene2 and the difference between those careless masques of heathen gods1 or unbelieved though mightily conceived visions of fairy1 witch1 or risen spirit1 and the earnest faith of ,dante's vision of ,paradise1 is the true measure of the difference in influence between the willowy banks of ,avon1 and the purple hills of ,arno4 #ci4 ,our third inquiry1 into the influence of mountains on domestic and military character1 was1 we said1 to be deferred2 for this reason1 that it is too much involved with the consideration of the influence of simple rural life in unmountainous districts1 to be entered upon with advantage until we have examined the general beauty of vegetation1 whether lowland or mountainous4 ,i hope to pursue this inquiry1 therefore1 at the close of the next volume2 only desiring1 in the meantime1 to bring one or two points connected with it under the consideration of our ,english travellers4 #dj4 ,for1 it will be remembered1 we first entered on this subject in order to obtain some data as to the possibility of a ,practical ,ideal in ,swiss life1 correspondent1 in some measure1 to the poetical ideal of the same1 which so largely entertains the ,european public4 ,of which possibility1 ,i do not think1 after what we have even already seen of the true effect of mountains on the human mind1 there is any reason to doubt1 even if that ideal had not been presented to us already in some measure1 in the older life of the ,swiss republics4 ,but of its possibility1 under present circumstances1 there is1 ,i grieve to say1 the deepest reason to doubt2 and that the more1 because the question is not whether the mountaineer can be raised into a happier life by the help of the active nations of the plains2 but whether he can yet be protected from the infection of the folly and vanity of those nations4 ,i urged1 in the preceding chapter1 some consideration of what might be accomplished1 if we chose to devote to the help what we now devote to the mockery of the ,swiss4 ,but ,i would that the enlightened population of ,paris and ,london were content with doing nothing2--that they were satisfied with expenditure upon their idle pleasures1 in their idle way2 and would leave the ,swiss to their own mountain gloom of unadvancing independence4 ,i believe that every franc now spent by travellers among the ,alps tends more or less to the undermining of whatever special greatness there is in the ,swiss character2 and the persons ,i met in ,switzerland1 whose position and modes of life rendered them best able to give me true information respecting the present state of their country1 among many causes of national deterioration1 spoke with chief fear of the influx of ,english wealth1 gradually connecting all industry with the wants and ways of strangers1 and inviting all idleness to depend upon their casual help2 thus gradually resolving the ancient consistency and pastoral simplicity of the mountain life into the two irregular trades of innkeeper#aag and mendicant4 #da4 ,i could say much on this subject if ,i had any hope of doing good by saying anything4 ,but ,i have none4 ,the influx of foreigners into ,switzerland must necessarily be greater every year1 and the greater it is1 the larger1 in the crowd1 will be the majority of persons whose objects in travelling will be1 first1 to get as fast as possible from place to place1 and1 secondly1 at every place where they arrive1 to obtain the kind of accommodation and amusement to which they are accustomed in ,paris1 ,london1 ,brighton1 or ,baden4 ,railroads are already projected round the head of the ,lake of ,geneva1 and through the town of ,fribourg2 the head of the ,lake of ,geneva being precisely and accurately the one spot of ,europe whose character1 and influence on human mind1 are special2 and unreplaceable if destroyed1 no other spot resembling1 or being in any wise comparable to it1 in its peculiar way3 while the town of ,fribourg is in like manner the only medival mountain town of importance left to us2 ,inspruck and such others being wholly modern1 while ,fribourg yet retains much of the aspect it had in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries4 ,the valley of ,chamouni1 another spot also unique in its way1 is rapidly being turned into a kind of ,cremorne ,gardens2 and ,i can see1 within the perspective of but few years1 the town of ,lucerne consisting of a row of symmetrical hotels round the foot of the lake1 its old bridges destroyed1 an iron one built over the ,reuss1 and an acacia promenade carried along the lake-shore1 with a ,german band playing under a ,chinese temple at the end of it1 and the enlightened travellers1 representatives of ,european civilization1 performing before the ,alps1 in each afternoon summer sunlight1 in their modern manner1 the ,dance of ,death4 #db4 ,all this is inevitable2 and it has its good as well as its evil side4 ,i can imagine the zealous modernist replying to me that when all this is happily accomplished1 my melancholy peasants of the valley of ,trient will be turned into thriving shopkeepers1 the desolate streets of ,sion into glittering thoroughfares1 and the marshes of the ,valais into prosperous market-gardens4 ,i hope so2 and indeed am striving every day to conceive more accurately1 and regulate all my efforts by the expectation of1 the state of society1 not now1 ,i suppose1 much more than twenty years in advance of us1 when ,europe1 having satisfactorily effaced all memorials of the past1 and reduced itself to the likeness of ,america1 or of any other new country 7only with less room for exertion71 shall begin to consider what is next to be done1 and to what newness of arts and interests may best be devoted the wealth of its marts1 and the strength of its multitudes4 ,which anticipations and estimates1 however1 ,i have never been able1 as yet1 to carry out with any clearness1 being always arrested by the confused notion of a necessity for solitude1 disdain of buying and selling1 and other elements of that old medival and mountain gloom1 as in some way connected with the efforts of nearly all men who have either seen far into the destiny1 or been much helpful to the souls1 of their race4 ,and the grounds of this feeling1 whether right or wrong1 ,i hope to analyze more fully in the next volume2 only noting1 finally1 in this1 one or two points for the consideration of those among us with whom it may sometimes become a question1 whether they will help forward1 or not1 the turning of a sweet mountain valley into an abyss of factory-stench and toil1 or the carrying of a line of traffic through some green place of shepherd solitude4 #dc4 ,for1 if there be any truth in the impression which ,i have always felt1 and just now endeavored to enforce1 that the mountains of the earth are its natural cathedrals1 or natural altars1 overlaid with gold1 and bright with broidered work of flowers1 and with their clouds resting on them as the smoke of a continual sacrifice1 it may surely be a question with some of us1 whether the tables of the moneychanger1 however fit and commendable they may be as furniture in other places1 are precisely the thing which it is the whole duty of man to get well set up in the mountain temple4 #dd4 ,and perhaps it may help to the better determination of this question1 if we endeavor1 for a few patient moments1 to bear with that weakness of our forefathers in feeling an awe for the hills2 and1 divesting ourselves1 as far as may be1 of our modern experimental or exploring activity1 and habit of regarding mountains chiefly as places for gymnastic exercise1 try to understand the temper1 not indeed altogether exemplary1 but yet having certain truths and dignities in it1 to which we owe the founding of the ,benedictine and ,carthusian cloisters in the thin ,alpine air4 ,and this monkish temper we may1 ,i suppose1 best understand by considering the aspect under which mountains are represented in the ,monk's book4 ,i found that in my late lectures1 at ,edinburgh1 ,i gave great offence by supposing1 or implying1 that scriptural expressions could have any force as bearing upon modern practical questions2 so that ,i do not now1 nor shall ,i any more1 allude to such expressions as in any wise necessarily bearing on the worldly business of the practical ,protestant1 but only as necessary to be glanced at in order to understand the temper of those old monks1 who had the awkward habit of understanding the ,bible literally2 and to get any little good which momentary sympathy with the hearts of a large and earnest class of men may surely bring to us4 #de4 ,the monkish view of mountains1 then1 already alluded to1#aah was derived wholly from that ,latin ,vulgate of theirs2 and1 speaking as a monk1 it may perhaps be permitted me to mark the significance of the earliest mention of mountains in the ,mosaic books2 at least1 of those in which some ,divine appointment or command is stated respecting them4 ,they are first brought before us as refuges for ,god's people from the two judgments of water and fire4 ,the ark rests upon the mountains of ,ararat2 and man1 having passed through that great baptism unto death1 kneels upon the earth first where it is nearest heaven1 and mingles with the mountain clouds the smoke of his sacrifice of thanksgiving4 ,again3 from the midst of the first judgment by fire1 the command of the ,deity to ,his servant is1 ,escape to the mountain2 and the morbid fear of the hills1 which fills any human mind after long stay in places of luxury and sin1 is strangely marked in ,lot's complaining reply3 ,i cannot escape to the mountain1 lest some evil take me4 ,the third mention1 in way of ordinance1 is a far more solemn one3 ,abraham lifted up his eyes1 and saw the place afar off4 ,the ,place1 the ,mountain of ,myrrh1 or of bitterness1 chosen to fulfil to all the seed of ,abraham1 far off and near1 the inner meaning of promise regarded in that vow3 ,i will lift up mine eyes unto the hills1 from whence cometh mine help4 ,and the fourth is the delivery of the law on ,sinai4 #df4 ,it seemed1 then1 to the monks1 that the mountains were appointed by their ,maker to be to man1 refuges from ,judgment1 signs of ,redemption1 and altars of ,sanctification and obedience2 and they saw them afterwards connected1 in the manner the most touching and gracious1 with the death1 after his task had been accomplished1 of the first anointed ,priest2 the death1 in like manner1 of the first inspired ,lawgiver2 and1 lastly1 with the assumption of his office by the ,eternal ,priest1 ,lawgiver1 and ,saviour4 ,observe the connection of these three events4 ,although the time of the deaths of ,aaron and ,moses was hastened by ,god's displeasure1 we have not1 it seems to me1 the slightest warrant for concluding that the manner of their deaths was intended to be grievous or dishonorable to them4 ,far from this3 it cannot1 ,i think1 be doubted that in the denial of the permission to enter the ,promised ,land1 the whole punishment of their sin was included2 and that as far as regarded the manner of their deaths1 it must have been appointed for them by their ,master in all tenderness and love2 and with full purpose of ennobling the close of their service upon the earth4 ,it might have seemed to us more honorable that both should have been permitted to die beneath the shadow of the ,tabernacle1 the congregation of ,israel watching by their side2 and all whom they loved gathered together to receive the last message from the lips of the meek lawgiver1 and the last blessing from the prayer of the anointed priest4 ,but it was not thus they were permitted to die4 ,try to realize that going forth of ,aaron from the midst of the congregation4 ,he who had so often done sacrifice for their sin1 going forth now to offer up his own spirit4 ,he who had stood1 among them1 between the dead and the living1 and had seen the eyes of all that great multitude turned to him1 that by his intercession their breath might yet be drawn a moment more1 going forth now to meet the ,angel of ,death face to face1 and deliver himself into his hand4 ,try if you cannot walk1 in thought1 with those two brothers1 and the son1 as they passed the outmost tents of ,israel1 and turned1 while yet the dew lay round about the camp1 towards the slopes of ,mount ,hor2 talking together for the last time1 as step by step1 they felt the steeper rising of the rocks1 and hour after hour1 beneath the ascending sun1 the horizon grew broader as they climbed1 and all the folded hills of ,idumea1 one by one subdued1 showed amidst their hollows in the haze of noon1 the windings of that long desert journey1 now at last to close4 ,but who shall enter into the thoughts of the ,high ,priest1 as his eye followed those paths of ancient pilgrimage2 and1 through the silence of the arid and endless hills1 stretching even to the dim peak of ,sinai1 the whole history of those forty years was unfolded before him1 and the mystery of his own ministries revealed to him2 and that other ,holy of ,holies1 of which the mountain peaks were the altars1 and the mountain clouds the veil1 the firmament of his ,father's dwelling1 opened to him still more brightly and infinitely as he drew nearer his death2 until at last1 on the shadeless summit1--from him on whom sin was to be laid no more--from him1 on whose heart the names of sinful nations were to press their graven fire no longer1--the brother and the son took breastplate and ephod1 and left him to his rest4 #dg4 ,there is indeed a secretness in this calm faith and deep restraint of sorrow1 into which it is difficult for us to enter2 but the death of ,moses himself is more easily to be conceived1 and had in it circumstances still more touching1 as far as regards the influence of the external scene4 ,for forty years ,moses had not been alone4 ,the care and burden of all the people1 the weight of their woe1 and guilt1 and death1 had been upon him continually4 ,the multitude had been laid upon him as if he had conceived them2 their tears had been his meat1 night and day1 until he had felt as if ,god had withdrawn ,his favor from him1 and he had prayed that he might be slain1 and not see his wretchedness4#aai ,and now1 at last1 the command came1 ,get thee up into this mountain4 ,the weary hands that had been so long stayed up against the enemies of ,israel1 might lean again upon the shepherd's staff1 and fold themselves for the shepherd's prayer--for the shepherd's slumber4 ,not strange to his feet1 though forty years unknown1 the roughness of the bare mountain-path1 as he climbed from ledge to ledge of ,abarim2 not strange to his aged eyes the scattered clusters of the mountain herbage1 and the broken shadows of the cliffs1 indented far across the silence of uninhabited ravines2 scenes such as those among which1 with none1 as now1 beside him but ,god1 he had led his flocks so often2 and which he had left1 how painfully6 taking upon him the appointed power1 to make of the fenced city a wilderness1 and to fill the desert with songs of deliverance4 ,it was not to embitter the last hours of his life that ,god restored to him1 for a day1 the beloved solitudes he had lost2 and breathed the peace of the perpetual hills around him1 and cast the world in which he had labored and sinned far beneath his feet1 in that mist of dying blue2--all sin1 all wandering1 soon to be forgotten for ever2 the ,dead ,sea--a type of ,god's anger understood by him1 of all men1 most clearly1 who had seen the earth open her mouth1 and the sea his depth1 to overwhelm the companies of those who contended with his ,master--laid waveless beneath him2 and beyond it1 the fair hills of ,judah1 and the soft plains and banks of ,jordan1 purple in the evening light as with the blood of redemption1 and fading in their distant fulness into mysteries of promise and of love4 ,there1 with his unabated strength1 his undimmed glance1 lying down upon the utmost rocks1 with angels waiting near to contend for the spoils of his spirit1 he put off his earthly armor4 ,we do deep reverence to his companion prophet1 for whom the chariot of fire came down from heaven2 but was his death less noble1 whom his ,lord ,himself buried in the vales of ,moab1 keeping1 in the secrets of the eternal counsels1 the knowledge of a sepulchre1 from which he was to be called1 in the fulness of time1 to talk with that ,lord1 upon ,hermon1 of the death that ,he should accomplish at ,jerusalem8 ,and lastly1 let us turn our thoughts for a few moments to the cause of the resurrection of these two prophets4 ,we are all of us too much in the habit of passing it by1 as a thing mystical and inconceivable1 taking place in the life of ,christ for some purpose not by us to be understood1 or1 at the best1 merely as a manifestation of ,his divinity by brightness of heavenly light1 and the ministering of the spirits of the dead1 intended to strengthen the faith of ,his three chosen apostles4 ,and in this1 as in many other events recorded by the ,evangelists1 we lose half the meaning and evade the practical power upon ourselves1 by never accepting in its fulness the idea that our ,lord was perfect man1 tempted in all things like as we are4 ,our preachers are continually trying1 in all manner of subtle ways1 to explain the union of the ,divinity with the ,manhood1 an explanation which certainly involves first their being able to describe the nature of ,deity itself1 or1 in plain words1 to comprehend ,god4 ,they never can explain1 in any one particular1 the union of the natures2 they only succeed in weakening the faith of their hearers as to the entireness of either4 ,the thing they have to do is precisely the contrary of this--to insist upon the entireness of both4 ,we never think of ,christ enough as ,god1 never enough as ,man2 the instinctive habit of our minds being always to miss of the ,divinity1 and the reasoning and enforced habit to miss of the ,humanity4 ,we are afraid to harbor in our own hearts1 or to utter in the hearing of others1 any thought of our ,lord1 as hungering1 tired1 sorrowful1 having a human soul1 a human will1 and affected by events of human life as a finite creature is2 and yet one half of the efficiency of ,his atonement1 and the whole of the efficiency of ,his example1 depend on ,his having been this to the full4 #dh4 ,consider1 therefore1 the ,transfiguration as it relates to the human feelings of our ,lord4 ,it was the first definite preparation for ,his death4 ,he had foretold it to ,his disciples six days before2 then takes with ,him the three chosen ones into an high mountain apart4 ,from an exceeding high mountain1 at the first taking on ,him the ministry of life1 ,he had beheld1 and rejected the kingdoms of the earth1 and their glory3 now1 on a high mountain1 ,he takes upon ,him the ministry of death4 ,peter and they that were with him1 as in ,gethsemane1 were heavy with sleep4 ,christ's work had to be done alone4 ,the tradition is1 that the ,mount of ,transfiguration was the summit of ,tabor2 but ,tabor is neither a high mountain1 nor was it in any sense a mountain apart2 being in those years both inhabited and fortified4 ,all the immediately preceding ministries of ,christ had been at ,cesarea ,philippi4 ,there is no mention of travel southward in the six days that intervened between the warning given to ,his disciples1 and the going up into the hill4 ,what other hill could it be than the southward slope of that goodly mountain1 ,hermon1 which is indeed the centre of all the ,promised ,land1 from the entering in of ,hamath unto the river of ,egypt2 the mount of fruitfulness1 from which the springs of ,jordan descended to the valleys of ,israel4 ,along its mighty forest avenues1 until the grass grew fair with the mountain lilies1 ,his feet dashed in the dew of ,hermon1 ,he must have gone to pray ,his first recorded prayer about death2 and from the steep of it1 before ,he knelt1 could see to the south all the dwelling-place of the people that had sat in darkness1 and seen the great light1 the land of ,zabulon and of ,naphtali1 ,galilee of the nations2--could see1 even with ,his human sight1 the gleam of that lake by ,capernaum and ,chorazin1 and many a place loved by ,him1 and vainly ministered to1 whose house was now left unto them desolate2 and1 chief of all1 far in the utmost blue1 the hills above ,nazareth1 sloping down to ,his old home3 hills on which yet the stones lay loose1 that had been taken up to cast at ,him1 when ,he left them for ever4 #di4 ,and as he prayed1 two men stood by him4 ,among the many ways in which we miss the help and hold of ,scripture1 none is more subtle than our habit of supposing that1 even as man1 ,christ was free from the ,fear of ,death4 ,how could ,he then have been tempted as we are8 since among all the trials of the earth1 none spring from the dust more terrible than that ,fear4 ,it had to be borne by ,him1 indeed1 in a unity1 which we can never comprehend1 with the foreknowledge of victory1--as ,his sorrow for ,lazarus1 with the consciousness of the power to restore him2 but it had to be borne1 and that in its full earthly terror2 and the presence of it is surely marked for us enough by the rising of those two at ,his side4 ,when1 in the desert1 ,he was girding ,himself for the work of life1 angels of life came and ministered unto ,him2 now1 in the fair world1 when ,he is girding ,himself for the work of death1 the ministrants come to ,him from the grave4 ,but from the grave conquered4 ,one1 from that tomb under ,abarim1 which ,his own hand had sealed so long ago2 the other from the rest into which he had entered1 without seeing corruption4 ,there stood by ,him ,moses and ,elias1 and spake of ,his decease4 ,then1 when the prayer is ended1 the task accepted1 first1 since the star paused over ,him at ,bethlehem1 the full glory falls upon ,him from heaven1 and the testimony is borne to his everlasting ,sonship and power4 ,hear ye him4 ,if1 in their remembrance of these things1 and in their endeavor to follow in the footsteps of their ,master1 religious men of by-gone days1 closing themselves in the hill solitudes1 forgot sometimes1 and sometimes feared1 the duties they owed to the active world1 we may perhaps pardon them more easily than we ought to pardon ourselves1 if we neither seek any influence for good nor submit to it unsought1 in scenes to which thus all the men whose writings we receive as inspired1 together with their ,lord1 retired whenever they had any task or trial laid upon them needing more than their usual strength of spirit4 ,nor1 perhaps1 should we have unprofitably entered into the mind of the earlier ages1 if among our other thoughts1 as we watch the chains of the snowy mountains rise on the horizon1 we should sometimes admit the memory of the hour in which their ,creator1 among their solitudes1 entered on ,his travail for the salvation of our race2 and indulge the dream1 that as the flaming and trembling mountains of the earth seem to be the monuments of the manifesting of ,his terror on ,sinai1--these pure and white hills1 near to the heaven1 and sources of all good to the earth1 are the appointed memorials of that ,light of ,his ,mercy1 that fell1 snow-like1 on the ,mount of ,transfiguration4 ,,footnotes #ajf ,in tracing the whole of the deep enjoyment to mountain association1 ,i of course except whatever feelings are connected with the observance of rural life1 or with that of architecture4 ,none of these feelings arise out of the landscape1 properly so-called3 the pleasure with which we see a peasant's garden fairly kept1 or a ploughman doing his work well1 or a group of children playing at a cottage door1 being wholly separate from that which we find in the fields or commons around them2 and the beauty of architecture1 or the associations connected with it1 in like manner often ennobling the most tame scenery2--yet not so but that we may always distinguish between the abstract character of the unassisted landscape1 and the charm which it derives from the architecture4 ,much of the majesty of ,french landscape consists in its grand and grey village churches and turreted farmhouses1 not to speak of its cathedrals1 castles1 and beautifully placed cities4 #ajg ,one of the principal reasons for the false supposition that ,switzerland is not picturesque1 is the error of most sketchers and painters in representing pine forest in middle distance as dark green1 or grey green1 whereas its true color is always purple1 at distances of even two or three miles4 ,let any traveller coming down the ,montanvert look for an aperture1 three or four inches wide1 between the near pine branches1 through which1 standing eight or ten feet from it1 he can see the opposite forests on the ,breven or ,flegre4 ,those forests are not above two or two and a half miles from him2 but he will find the aperture is filled by a tint of nearly pure azure or purple1 not by green4 #ajh ,the ,savoyard's name for its flower1 ,pain du ,bon ,dieu1 is very beautiful2 from1 ,i believe1 the supposed resemblance of its white and scattered blossom to the fallen manna4 #aji ,see reference to his painting of stones in the last note to #bh of the chapter on ,imagination ,penetrative1 ,vol4 ,,ii4 #aaj ,in saying this ,i do not1 of course1 forget the influence of the sea on the ,pisans and ,venetians2 but that is a separate subject1 and must be examined in the next volume4 #aaa ,with fairest flowers ,while summer lasts1 and ,i live here1 ,fidele1 ,i'll sweeten thy sad grave4 ,thou shalt not lack ,the flower that's like thy face--pale primrose1 nor ,the azured harebell--like thy veins2 no1 nor ,the leaf of eglantine1 whom not to slander1 ,outsweetened not thy breath4 ,the ruddock would ,with charitable bill bring thee all this2 ,yea1 and furred moss besides1 when flowers are none1 ,to winter-ground thy corse4 ,gui4 ,prithee1 have done1 ,and do not play in wench-like words with that ,which is so serious4 ,imogen herself1 afterwards in deeper passion1 will give weeds--not flowers--and something more3 ,and when ,with wildwood leaves1 and weeds1 ,i have strewed his grave1 ,and on it said a century of prayers1 ,such as ,i can1 twice o'er1 ,i'll weep1 and sigh1 ,and1 leaving so his service1 follow you4 #aab ,if the reader thinks that in ,henry the ,fifth's time the ,elizabethan temper might already have been manifesting itself1 let him compare the ,english herald's speech1 act #b1 scene #b1 of ,king ,john2 and by way of specimen of ,shakespere's historical care1 or regard of medival character1 the large use of artillery in the previous scene4 #aac ,the last bishop4 #aad ,his favorite son2 nominally his nephew4 #aae ,nero ,antico is more familiar to our ears2 but ,browning does right in translating it2 as afterwards cipollino into onion-stone4 ,our stupid habit of using foreign words without translation is continually losing us half the force of the foreign language4 ,how many travellers hearing the term cipollino recognize the intended sense of a stone splitting into concentric coats1 like an onion8 #aaf ,i mean that ,shakespere almost always implies a total difference in nature between one human being and another2 one being from the birth1 pure and affectionate1 another base and cruel2 and he displays each1 in its sphere1 as having the nature of dove1 wolf1 or lion1 never much implying the government or change of nature by any external principle4 ,there can be no question that in the main he is right in this view of human nature2 still1 the other form of virtue does exist occasionally1 and was never1 as far as ,i recollect1 taken much note of by him4 ,and with this stern view of humanity1 ,shakespere joined a sorrowful view of ,fate1 closely resembling that of the ancients4 ,he is distinguished from ,dante eminently by his always dwelling on last causes instead of first causes4 ,dante invariably points to the moment of the soul's choice which fixed its fate1 to the instant of the day when it read no farther1 or determined to give bad advice about ,penestrino4 ,but ,shakespere always leans on the force of ,fate1 as it urges the final evil2 and dwells with infinite bitterness on the power of the wicked1 and the infinitude of result dependent seemingly on little things4 ,a fool brings the last piece of news from ,verona1 and the dearest lives of its noble houses are lost2 they might have been saved if the sacristan had not stumbled as he walked4 ,othello mislays his handkerchief1 and there remains nothing for him but death4 ,hamlet gets hold of the wrong foil1 and the rest is silence4 ,edmund's runner is a moment too late at the prison1 and the feather will not move at ,cordelia's lips4 ,salisbury a moment too late at the tower1 and ,arthur lies on the stones dead4 ,goneril and ,iago have on the whole1 in this world1 ,shakespere sees1 much of their own way1 though they come to a bad end4 ,it is a pin that ,death pierces the king's fortress wall with2 and ,carelessness and ,folly sit sceptred and dreadful1 side by side with the pin-armed skeleton4 #aag ,not the old hospitable innkeeper1 who honored his guests and was honored by them1 than whom ,i do not know a more useful or worthy character2 but the modern innkeeper1 proprietor of a building in the shape of a factory1 making up three hundred beds2 who necessarily regards his guests in the light of ,numbers #a1 #b1 #c-cjj1 and is too often felt or apprehended by them only as a presiding influence of extortion4 #aah ,vol ,,iii4 ,chap4 ,,xiv4 #aj4 #aai ,numbers1 xi4 #ab1 #ae4 ,,appendix4 ,i4 ,,modern ,,grotesque4 ,the reader may perhaps be somewhat confused by the different tone with which1 in various passages of these volumes1 ,i have spoken of the dignity of ,expression4 ,he must remember that there are three distinct schools of expression1 and that it is impossible1 on every occasion when the term is used1 to repeat the definition of the three1 and distinguish the school spoken of4 ,there is1 first1 the ,great ,expressional ,school1 consisting of the sincerely thoughtful and affectionate painters of early times1 masters of their art1 as far as it was known in their days4 ,orcagna1 ,john ,bellini1 ,perugino1 and ,angelico1 are its leading masters4 ,all the men who compose it are1 without exception1 colorists4 ,the modern ,pre-,raphaelites belong to it4 ,secondly1 the ,pseudo-,expressional ,school1 wholly of modern development1 consisting of men who have never mastered their art1 and are probably incapable of mastering it1 but who hope to substitute sentiment for good painting4 ,it is eminently characterized by its contempt of color1 and may be most definitely distinguished as the ,school of ,clay4 ,thirdly1 the ,grotesque ,expressional ,school1 consisting of men who1 having peculiar powers of observation for the stronger signs of character in anything1 and sincerely delighting in them1 lose sight of the associated refinements or beauties4 ,this school is apt1 more or less1 to catch at faults or strangenesses2 and1 associating its powers of observation with wit or malice1 produces the wild1 gay1 or satirical grotesque in early sculpture1 and in modern times1 our rich and various popular caricature4 ,i took no note of this branch of art in the chapter on the ,grotesque ,ideal2 partly because ,i did not wish to disturb the reader's mind in our examination of the great imaginative grotesque1 and also because ,i did not feel able to give a distinct account of this branch1 having never thoroughly considered the powers of eye and hand involved in its finer examples4 ,but assuredly men of strong intellect and fine sense are found among the caricaturists1 and it is to them that ,i allude in saying that the most subtle expression is often attained by slight studies2 while it is of the pseudo-expressionalist1 or high art school that ,i am speaking1 when ,i say that expression may sometimes be elaborated by the toil of the dull2 in neither case meaning to depreciate the work1 wholly different in every way1 of the great expressional schools4 ,i regret that ,i have not been able1 as yet1 to examine with care the powers of mind involved in modern caricature4 ,they are1 however1 always partial and imperfect2 for the very habit of looking for the leading lines by the smallest possible number of which the expression may be attained1 warps the power of general attention1 and blunts the perception of the delicacies of the entire form and color4 ,not that caricature1 or exaggeration of points of character1 may not be occasionally indulged in by the greatest men--as constantly by ,leonardo2 but then it will be found that the caricature consists1 not in imperfect or violent drawing1 but in delicate and perfect drawing of strange and exaggerated forms quaintly combined3 and even thus1 ,i believe1 the habit of looking for such conditions will be found injurious2 ,i strongly suspect its operation on ,leonardo to have been the increase of his non-natural tendencies in his higher works4 ,a certain acknowledgment of the ludicrous element is admitted in corners of the pictures of ,veronese--in dwarfs or monkeys2 but it is never caricatured or exaggerated4 ,tintoret and ,titian hardly admit the element at all4 ,they admit the noble grotesque to the full1 in all its quaintness1 brilliancy1 and awe2 but never any form of it depending on exaggeration1 partiality1 or fallacy4#abj ,i believe1 therefore1 whatever wit1 delicate appreciation of ordinary character1 or other intellectual power may belong to the modern masters of caricature1 their method of study for ever incapacitates them from passing beyond a certain point1 and either reaching any of the perfect forms of art themselves1 or understanding them in others4 ,generally speaking1 their power is limited to the use of the pen or pencil--they cannot touch color without discomfiture2 and even those whose work is of higher aim1 and wrought habitually in color1 are prevented by their pursuit of piquant expression from understanding noble expression4 ,leslie furnishes several curious examples of this defect of perception in his late work on ,art2--talking1 for instance1 of the insipid faces of ,francia4 ,on the other hand1 all the real masters of caricature deserve honor in this respect1 that their gift is peculiarly their own--innate and incommunicable4 ,no teaching1 no hard study1 will ever enable other people to equal1 in their several ways1 the works of ,leech or ,cruikshank2 whereas1 the power of pure drawing is communicable1 within certain limits1 to every one who has good sight and industry4 ,i do not1 indeed1 know how far1 by devoting the attention to points of character1 caricaturist skill may be laboriously attained2 but certainly the power is1 in the masters of the school1 innate from their childhood4 ,farther4 ,it is evident that many subjects of thought may be dealt with by this kind of art which are inapproachable by any other1 and that its influence over the popular mind must always be great2 hence it may often happen that men of strong purpose may rather express themselves in this way 7and continue to make such expression a matter of earnest study71 than turn to any less influential1 though more dignified1 or even more intrinsically meritorious1 branch of art4 ,and when the powers of quaint fancy are associated 7as is frequently the case7 with stern understanding of the nature of evil1 and tender human sympathy1 there results a bitter1 or pathetic spirit of grotesque1 to which mankind at the present day owe more thorough moral teaching than to any branch of art whatsoever4 ,in poetry1 the temper is seen1 in perfect manifestation1 in the works of ,thomas ,hood2 in art1 it is found both in various works of the ,germans1--their finest1 and their least thought of2 and more or less in the works of ,george ,cruikshank1#aba and in many of the illustrations of our popular journals4 ,on the whole1 the most impressive examples of it1 in poetry and in art1 which ,i remember1 are the ,song of the ,shirt1 and the woodcuts of ,alfred ,rethel1 before spoken of4 ,a correspondent1 though coarser work appeared some little time back in ,punch1 namely1 the ,general ,fvrier turned ,traitor4 ,the reception of the woodcut last named was in several respects a curious test of modern feeling4 ,for the sake of the general reader1 it may be well to state the occasion and character of it4 ,it will be remembered by all that early in the winter of #ahed-e1 so fatal by its inclemency1 and by our own improvidence1 to our army in the ,crimea1 the late ,emperor of ,russia said1 or was reported to have said1 that his best commanders1 ,general ,january and ,general ,february1 were not yet come4 ,the word1 if ever spoken1 was at once base1 cruel1 and blasphemous2 base1 in precisely reversing the temper of all true soldiers1 so nobly instanced by the son of ,saladin1 when he sent1 at the very instant of the discomfiture of his own army1 two horses to ,coeur de ,lion1 whose horse had been killed under him in the mle2 cruel1 inasmuch as he ought not to have exulted in the thought of the death1 by slow suffering1 of brave men2 blasphemous1 inasmuch as it contained an appeal to ,heaven of which he knew the hypocrisy4 ,he himself died in ,february2 and the woodcut of which ,i speak represented a skeleton in soldier's armor1 entering his chamber1 the driven sleet white on its cloak and crest2 laying its hand on his heart as he lay dead4 ,there were some points to be regretted in the execution of the design1 but the thought was a grand one2 the memory of the word spoken1 and of its answer1 could hardly in any more impressive way have been recorded for the people2 and ,i believe that to all persons accustomed to the earnest forms of art1 it contained a profound and touching lesson4 ,the notable thing was1 however1 that it offended all persons not in earnest1 and was loudly cried out against by the polite formalism of society4 ,this fate is1 ,i believe1 the almost inevitable one of thoroughly genuine work1 in these days1 whether poetry or painting2 but what added to the singularity in this ease was that coarse heartlessness was even more offended than polite heartlessness4 ,thus1 ,blackwood's ,magazine1--which from the time that1 with grace1 judgment1 and tenderness peculiarly its own1 it bid the dying ,keats back to his gallipots1#abb to that in which it partly arrested the last efforts1 and shortened the life of ,turner1 had with an infallible instinct for the wrong1 given what pain it could1 and withered what strength it could1 in every great mind that was in anywise within its reach2 and had made itself1 to the utmost of its power1 frost and disease of the heart to the most noble spirits of ,england1--took upon itself to be generously offended at this triumphing over the death of ,england's enemy1 because1 by proving that he is obliged to undergo the common lot of all1 his brotherhood is at once reasserted4#abc ,he was not1 then1 a brother while he was alive8 or is our brother's blood in general not to be acknowledged by us till it rushes up against us from the ground8 ,i know that this is a common creed1 whether a peculiarly wise or ,christian one may be doubted4 ,it may not1 indeed1 be well to triumph over the dead1 but perhaps it is less well that the world so often tries to triumph over the living4 ,and as for exultation over a fallen foe 7though there was none in the mind of the man who drew that monarch dead71 it may be remembered that there have been worthy persons1 before now1 guilty of this great wickedness1--nay1 who have even fitted the words of their exultation to timbrels1 and gone forth to sing them in dances4 ,there have even been those--women1 too1--who could make a mock at the agony of a mother weeping over her lost son1 when that son had been the enemy of their country2 and their mock has been preserved1 as worthy to be read by human eyes4 ,the mother of ,sisera looked out at a window4 ',hath he not sped8' ,i do not say this was right1 still less that it was wrong2 but only that it would be well for us if we could quit our habit of thinking that what we say of the dead is of more weight than what we say of the living4 ,the dead either know nothing1 or know enough to despise both us and our insults1 or adulation4 ,well1 but1 it is answered1 there will always be this weakness in our human nature2 we shall for ever1 in spite of reason1 take pleasure in doing funereal honor to the corpse1 and writing sacredness to memory upon marble4 ,then1 if you are to do this1--if you are to put off your kindness until death1--why not1 in ,god's name1 put off also your enmity8 and if you choose to write your lingering affections upon stones1 wreak also your delayed anger upon clay4 ,this would be just1 and1 in the last case1 little as you think it1 generous4 ,the true baseness is in the bitter reverse--the strange iniquity of our folly4 ,is a man to be praised1 honored1 pleaded for8 ,it might do harm to praise or plead for him while he lived4 ,wait till he is dead4 ,is he to be maligned1 dishonored1 and discomforted8 ,see that you do it while he is alive4 ,it would be too ungenerous to slander him when he could feel malice no more2 too contemptible to try to hurt him when he was past anguish4 ,make yourselves busy1 ye unjust1 ye lying1 ye hungry for pain6 ,death is near4 ,this is your hour1 and the power of darkness4 ,wait1 ye just1 ye merciful1 ye faithful in love6 ,wait but for a little while1 for this is not your rest4 ,well1 but1 it is still answered1 is it not1 indeed1 ungenerous to speak ill of the dead1 since they cannot defend themselves8 ,why should they8 ,if you speak ill of them falsely1 it concerns you1 not them4 ,those lies of thine will hurt a man as thou art1 assuredly they will hurt thyself2 but that clay1 or the delivered soul of it1 in no wise4 ,ajacean shield1 seven-folded1 never stayed lance-thrust as that turf will1 with daisies pied4 ,what you say of those quiet ones is wholly and utterly the world's affair and yours4 ,the lie will1 indeed1 cost its proper price and work its appointed work2 you may ruin living myriads by it1--you may stop the progress of centuries by it1--you may have to pay your own soul for it1--but as for ruffling one corner of the folded shroud by it1 think it not4 ,the dead have none to defend them6 ,nay1 they have two defenders1 strong enough for the need--,god1 and the worm4 ,,ii4 ,,rock ,,cleavage4 ,i am well aware how insufficient1 and1 in some measure1 how disputable1 the account given in the preceding chapters of the cleavages of the slaty crystallines must appear to geologists4 ,but ,i had several reasons1 good or bad as they may be1 for treating the subject in such a manner4 ,the first was1 that considering the science of the artist as eminently the science of aspects 7see ,vol4 ,,iii4 ,chap4 ,,xvii4 #dc71 ,i kept myself in all my investigations of natural objects as much as possible in the state of an uninformed spectator of the outside of things1 receiving simply what impressions the external phenomena first induce4 ,for the natural tendency of accurate science is to make the possessor of it look for1 and eminently see1 the things connected with his special pieces of knowledge2 and as all accurate science must be sternly limited1 his sight of nature gets limited accordingly4 ,i observed that all our young figure-painters were rendered1 to all intents and purposes1 blind by their knowledge of anatomy4 ,they saw only certain muscles and bones1 of which they had learned the positions by rote1 but could not1 on account of the very prominence in their minds of these bits of fragmentary knowledge1 see the real movement1 color1 rounding1 or any other subtle quality of the human form4 ,and ,i was quite sure that if ,i examined the mountain anatomy scientifically1 ,i should go wrong1 in like manner1 touching the external aspects4 ,therefore in beginning the inquiries of which the results are given in the preceding pages1 ,i closed all geological books1 and set myself1 as far as ,i could1 to see the ,alps in a simple1 thoughtless1 and untheorizing manner2 but to see them1 if it might be1 thoroughly4 ,if ,i am wrong in any of the statements made after this kind of examination1 the very fact of this error is an interesting one1 as showing the kind of deception which the external aspects of hills are calculated to induce in an unprejudiced observer2 but1 whether wrong or right1 ,i believe the results ,i have given are those which naturally would strike an artist1 and ought to strike him1 just as the apparently domical form of the sky1 and radiation of the sun's light1 ought to be marked by him as pictorial phenomena1 though the sky is not domical1 and though the radiation of sunbeams is a perspective deception4 ,there are1 however1 one or two points on which my opinions might seem more adverse to the usual positions of geologists than they really are1 owing to my having left out many qualifying statements for fear of confusing the reader4 ,these ,i must here briefly touch upon4 ,and1 first1 ,i know that ,i shall be questioned for not having sufficiently dwelt upon slaty cleavages running transversely across series of beds1 and for generally speaking as if the slaty crystalline rocks were merely dried beds of micaceous sand1 in which the flakes of mica naturally lay parallel with the beds1 or only at such an angle to them as is constantly assumed by particles of drift4 ,now the reason of this is simply that my own mountain experience has led me always among rocks which induced such an impression2 that1 in general1 artists seeking for the noblest hill scenery1 will also get among such rocks1 and that therefore ,i judged it best to explain their structure completely1 merely alluding 7in ,chap4 ,x4 #g7 to the curious results of cross cleavage among the softer slates1 and leaving the reader to pursue the inquiry1 if he cared to do so2 although1 in reality1 it matters very little to the artist whether the slaty cleavage be across the beds or not1 for to him the cleavage itself is always the important matter1 and the stratification1 if contrary to it1 is usually so obscure as to be naturally1 and therefore properly1 lost sight of4 ,and touching the disputed question whether the micaceous arrangements of metamorphic rocks are the results of subsequent crystallization1 or of aqueous deposition1 ,i had no special call to speak3 the whole subject appeared to me only more mysterious the more ,i examined it2 but my own impressions were always strongly for the aqueous deposition2 nor in such cases as that of the beds of the ,matterhorn 7drawn in ,plate #ci71 respecting which1 somewhat exceptionally1 ,i have allowed myself to theorize a little1 does the matter appear to me disputable4 ,and ,i was confirmed in this feeling by ,de ,saussure2 the only writer whose help ,i did not refuse in the course of these inquiries4 ,his ,i received for this reason1--all other geological writers whose works ,i had examined were engaged in the maintenance of some theory or other1 and always gathering materials to support it4 ,but ,i found ,saussure had gone to the ,alps as ,i desired to go myself1 only to look at them1 and describe them as they were1 loving them heartily--loving them1 the positive ,alps1 more than himself1 or than science1 or than any theories of science2 and ,i found his descriptions1 therefore1 clear1 and trustworthy2 and that when ,i had not visited any place myself1 ,saussure's report upon it might always be received without question4 ,not but that ,saussure himself has a pet theory1 like other human beings2 only it is quite subordinate to his love of the ,alps3 ,he is a steady advocate of the aqueous crystallization of rocks1 and never loses a fair opportunity of a blow at the ,huttonians2 but his opportunities are always fair1 his description of what he sees is wholly impartial2 it is only when he gets home and arranges his papers that he puts in the little aqueously inclined paragraphs1 and never a paragraph without just cause4 ,he may1 perhaps1 overlook the evidence on the opposite side2 but in the ,alps the igneous alteration of the rocks1 and the modes of their upheaval1 seem to me subjects of intense difficulty and mystery1 and as such ,saussure always treats them2 the evidence for the original deposition by water of the slaty crystallines appears to him1 as it does to me1 often perfectly distinct4 ,now1 ,saussure's universal principle was exactly the one on which ,i have founded my account of the slaty crystallines3--,fidle mon principle1 de ne regarder comme des couches1 dans les montagnes schisteuses1 que les divisions parallles aux feuillets des schistes dont elles sont composes4--,voyages1 #agdg4 ,i know that this is an arbitrary1 and in some cases an assuredly false1 principle2 but the assumption of it by ,de ,saussure proves all that ,i want to prove1--namely1 that the beds of the slaty crystallines are in the ,alps in so large a plurality of instances correspondent in direction to their folia1 as to induce even a cautious reasoner to assume such correspondence to be universal4 ,the next point1 however1 on which ,i shall be opposed1 is one on which ,i speak with far less confidence1 for in this ,saussure himself is against me1--namely1 the parallelism of the beds sloping under the ,mont ,blanc4 ,saussure states twice1 #fef1 #fgg1 that they are arranged in the form of a fan4 ,i can only repeat that every measurement and every drawing ,i made in ,chamouni led me to the conclusions stated in the text1 and so ,i leave the subject to better investigators2 this one fact being indisputable1 and the only one on which for my purpose it is necessary to insist1 that1 whether in ,chamouni the beds be radiant or not1 to an artist's eye they are usually parallel2 and throughout the ,alps no phenomenon is more constant than the rounding of surfaces across the extremities of beds sloping outwards1 as seen in my plates #cg1 #dj1 and #dh1 and this especially in the most majestic mountain masses4 ,compare ,de ,saussure of the ,grimsel1 #agab3 ,toujours il est bien remarquable que ces feuillets1 verticaux au sommet1 s'inclinent ensuite1 comme ,chamouni1 contre le dehors de la montagne3 and again of the granite at ,guttannen1 #afgi3 ,ces couches ne sont pas tout-a-fait verticales2 elles s'appuyent un peu contre le ,nord-,est1 ou1 comme ,chamouni1 contre le dehors de la montagne4 ,again1 of the quartz micac of ,zumloch1 #agbc3 ,ces rochers sont en couches peu prs verticales1 dont les plans courent du ,nord-,est au ,sud-,ouest1 en s'appuyant1 suivant l'usage1 contre l'extrieur de la montagne1 ou contre la valle4 ,again1 on the ,pass of the ,gris1 #agch3 ,le rocher prsente des couches d'un schiste micac ray comme une toffe2 comme de l'autre ct ils surplombent vers le dehors de la montagne4 ,without referring to other passages ,i think ,saussure's simple words1 suivant l'usage1 are enough to justify my statement in ,chap4 ,,xiv4 #c2 only the reader must of course always remember that every conceivable position of beds takes place in the ,alps1 and all ,i mean to assert generally is1 that where the masses are most enormous and impressive1 and formed of slaty crystalline rocks1 there the run of the beds up1 as it were1 from within the mountain to its surface1 will1 in all probability1 become a notable feature in the scene as regarded by an artist4 ,one somewhat unusual form assumed by horizontal beds of slaty crystallines1 or of granite1 is described by ,saussure with unusual admiration2 and the passage is worth extracting1 as bearing on the terraced ideal of rocks in the middle ages4 ,the scene is in the ,val ,formazza4 ,indpendamment de l'intrt que ces couches prsentent au gologiste sous un nombre de rapports qu'il seroit trop long et peut-tre inutile de dtailler1 elles prsentent mme pour le peintre1 un superbe tableau4 ,je n'ai jamais vu de plus beaux rochers et distribus en plus grandes masses2 ici1 blancs2 l1 noircis par les lichens2 l1 peints de ces belles couleurs varies1 que nous admirions au ,grimsel1 et entremls d'arbres1 dont les uns couronnent le fate de la montagne1 et d'autres sont ingalement jets sur les corniches qui en sparent les couches4 ,vers le bas de la montagne l'oeil se repose sur de beaux vergers1 dans des prairies dont le terrein est ingal et vari1 et sur de magnifiques chtaigniers1 dont les branches tendues ombragent les rochers contre lesquels ils croissent4 ,en gnral1 ces granits en couches horizontals redent ce pays charmant2 car1 quoiqu'il y ait1 comme je l'ai dit1 des couches qui forment des saillies1 cependant elles sont pour l'ordinaire arranges en gradins1 ou en grandes assises poses en reculement les unes derrire les autres1 et les bords de ces gradins sont couverts de la plus belle verdure1 et d'arbres distribus de la manire la plus pittoresque4 ,on voit mme des montagnes trs-leves1 qui out la forme de pain de sucre1 et qui sont entoures et couronnes jusqu' leur sommet1 de guirlandes d'arbres assis sur les intervalles des couches1 et qui forment l'effet du monde le plus singulier4-,voyages1 #ageh4 ,another statement1 which ,i made generally1 referring1 for those qualifications which it is so difficult to give without confusing the reader1 to this appendix1 was that of the usually greater hardness of the tops of mountains as compared with their flanks4 ,my own experience among the ,alps has furnished me with few exceptions to this law2 but there is a very interesting one1 according to ,saussure1 in the range of the ,furca del ,bosco4 7,voyages1 #aggi47 ,lastly1 at page #ahf of this volume1 ,i have alluded to the various cleavages of the aiguilles1 out of which one only has been explained and illustrated4 ,i had not intended to treat the subject so partially2 and had actually prepared a long chapter1 explaining the relations of five different and important systems of cleavage in the ,chamouni aiguilles4 ,when it was written1 however1 ,i found it looked so repulsive to readers in general1 and proved so little that was of interest even to readers in particular1 that ,i cancelled it1 leaving only the account of what ,i might1 perhaps1 not unjustifiably 7from the first representation of it in the ,liber ,studiorum7 call ,turner's cleavage4 ,the following passage1 which was the introduction to the chapter1 may serve to show that ,i have not ignored the others1 though ,i found1 after long examination1 that ,turner's was the principal one3-- ,one of the principal distinctions between these crystalline masses and stratified rocks1 with respect to their outwardly apparent structure1 is the subtle complexity and number of ranks in their crystalline cleavages4 ,the stratified masses have always a simple intelligible organization2 their beds lie in one direction1 and certain fissures and fractures of those beds lie in other clearly ascertainable directions2 seldom more than two or three distinct directions of these fractures being admitted4 ,but if the traveller will set himself deliberately to watch the shadows on the aiguilles of ,chamouni as the sun moves round them1 he will find that nearly every quarter of an hour a new set of cleavages becomes visible1 not confused and orderless1 but a series of lines inclining in some one definite direction1 and that so positively1 that if he had only seen the aiguille at that moment1 he would assuredly have supposed its internal structure to be altogether regulated by the lines of bed or cleavage then in sight4 ,let him1 however1 wait for another quarter of an hour1 and he will see those lines fade entirely away as the sun rounds them2 and another set1 perhaps quite adverse to them and assuredly lying in another direction1 will as gradually become visible1 to die away in their turn1 and be succeeded by a third scheme of structure4 ,these 'dissolving views' of the geology of the aiguilles have often thrown me into despair of ever being able to give any account of their formation2 but just in proportion as ,i became aware of the infinite complexity of their framework1 the one great fact rose into more prominent and wonderful relief1--that through this inextricable complexity there was always manifested some authoritative principle4 ,it mattered not at what hour of the day the aiguilles were examined1 at that hour they had a system of structure belonging to the moment4 ,no confusion nor anarchy ever appeared amidst their strength1 but an ineffable order1 only the more perfect because incomprehensible4 ,they differed from lower mountains1 not merely in being more compact1 but in being more disciplined4 ,for1 observe1 the lines which cause these far-away effects of shadow1 are not1 as often in less noble rocks1 caused by real cracks through the body of the mountain2 for1 were this so1 it would follow1 from what has just been stated1 that these aiguilles were cracked through and through in every direction1 and therefore actually weaker1 instead of stronger1 than other rocks4 ,but the appearance of fracture is entirely external1 and the sympathy or parallelism of the lines indicates1 not an actual splitting through the rock1 but a mere disposition in the rock to split harmoniously when it is compelled to do so4 ,thus1 in the shell-like fractures on the flank of the ,aiguille ,blaitire1 the rock is not actually divided1 as it appears to be1 into successive hollow plates4 ,go up close to the inner angle between one bed of rock and the next1 and the whole mass will be found as firmly united as a piece of glass4 ,there is absolutely no crack between the beds1--no1 not so much as would allow the blade of a penknife to enter for a quarter of an inch2#abd but such a subtle disposition to symmetry of fracture in the heart of the solid rock1 that the next thunderbolt which strikes on that edge of it will rend away a shell-shaped fragment or series of fragments2 and will either break it so as to continue the line of one of the existing sides1 or in some other line parallel to that4 ,and yet this resolvedness to break into shell-shaped fragments running north and south is only characteristic of the rock at this spot1 and at certain other spots where similar circumstances have brought out this peculiar humor4 ,forty yards farther on it will be equally determined to break in another direction1 and nothing will persuade it to the contrary4 ,forty yards farther it will change its mind again1 and face its beds round to another quarter of the compass2 and yet all these alternating caprices are each parts of one mighty continuous caprice1 which is only masked for a time1 as threads of one color are in a patterned stuff by threads of another2 and thus from a distance1 precisely the same cleavage is seen repeated again and again in different places1 forming a systematic structure2 while other groups of cleavages will become visible in their turn1 either as we change our place of observation1 or as the sunlight changes the direction of its fall4 ,one part of these rocks1 ,i think1 no geologist interested in this subject should pass without examination2 viz41 the little spur of ,blaitire drawn in ,plate #bi1 ,fig4 #c4 ,it is seen1 as there shown1 from the moraine of the ,charmoz glacier1 its summit bearing ,s4 #dj ,w42 and its cleavage bed leaning to the left or ,s4,e41 against the aiguille ,blaitire4 ,if1 however1 we go down to the extremity of the rocks themselves1 on the right1 we shall find that all those thick beams of rock are actually sawn into vertical timbers by other cleavage1 sometimes so fine as to look almost slaty1 directed straight ,s4,e41 against the aiguille1 as if1 continued1 it would saw it through and through2 finally1 cross the spur and go down to the glacier below1 between it and the ,aiguille du ,plan1 and the bottom of the spur will be found presenting the most splendid mossy surfaces1 through which the true gneissitic cleavage is faintly traceable1 dipping at right angles to the beds in ,fig4 #c1 or under the ,aiguille ,blaitire1 thus concurring with the beds of ,la ,cte4 ,i forgot to note that the view of this ,aiguille ,blaitire1 given in ,plate #ci1 was taken from the station marked q in the reference figure1 p4 #afc2 and the sketch of the ,aiguille du ,plan at p4 #ahg1 from the station marked r in the same figure1 a highly interesting point of observation in many respects2 while the course of transition from the protogine into gneiss presents more remarkable phenomena on the descents from that point r to the ,tapia1 ,t1 than at any other easily accessible spot4 ,various interesting descriptions of granite cleavage will be found in ,de ,saussure1 chiefly in his accounts of the ,grimsel and ,st4 ,gothard4 ,the following summary of his observations on their positions of beds 7#aggd71 may serve to show the reader how long ,i should have detained him if ,i had endeavored to give a description of all the attendant phenomena3-- ,il est aussi bien curieux de voir ces gneiss1 et ces granits veins1 en couches verticales ,guttannen2 mlanges d'horizontals et de verticales au ,lauteraar2 toutes verticales au ,grimsel et au ,gris2 toutes horizontales dans le ,val ,formazza1 et enfin pour la troisime fois verticales la sortie des ,alpes l'entre du ,lac ,majeur4 ,,iii4 ,,logical ,,education4 ,in the ,preface to the third volume ,i alluded to the conviction1 daily gaining ground upon me1 of the need of a more accurately logical education of our youth4 ,truly among the most pitiable and practically hurtful weaknesses of the modern ,english mind1 its usual inability to grasp the connection between any two ideas which have elements of opposition in them1 as well as of connection1 is perhaps the chief4 ,it is shown with singular fatality in the vague efforts made by our divines to meet the objections raised by free-thinkers1 bearing on the nature and origin of evil2 but there is hardly a sentence written on any matter requiring careful analysis1 by writers who have not yet begun to perceive the influence of their own vanity 7and there are too many such among divines71 which will not involve some half-lamentable1 half-ludicrous1 logical flaw1--such flaws being the invariable consequence of a man's straining to say anything in a learned instead of an intelligible manner4 ,take a sentence1 for example1 from ,j4 ,a4 ,james's ,anxious ,inquirer3--,it is a great principle that subjective religion1 or in other words1 religion in us1 is produced and sustained by fixing the mind on objective religion1 or the facts and doctrines of the ,word of ,god4 ,cut entirely out the words ,i have put in italics1 and the sentence has a meaning 7though not by any means an important one74 ,but by its verbosities it is extended into pure nonsense2 for facts are neither objective nor subjective#abe religion2 they are not religion at all4 ,the belief of them1 attended with certain feelings1 is religion2 and it must always be religion in us1 for in whom else should it be 7unless in angels2 which would not make it less subjective74 ,it is just as rational to call doctrines objective religion1 as to call entreaties objective compassion2 and the only real fact of any notability deducible from the sentence is1 that the writer desired earnestly to say something profound1 and had nothing profound to say4 ,to this same defect of intellect must1 in charity1 be attributed many of the wretched cases of special pleading which we continually hear from the pulpit4 ,in the year #ahec1 ,i heard1 in ,edinburgh1 a sermon from a leading and excellent ,presbyterian clergyman1 on a subject generally grateful to ,protestant audiences1 namely the impropriety and wickedness of fasting4 ,the preacher entirely denied that there was any authority for fasting in the ,new ,testament2 declared that there were many feasts appointed1 but no fasts2 insisted with great energy on the words forbidding to marry1 and commanding to abstain from meats1 c41 as descriptive of ,romanism1 and never once1 throughout a long sermon1 ventured so much as a single syllable that might recall to his audience's recollection the existence of such texts as ,matthew iv4 #b and vi4 #af1 or ,mark ix4 #bi4 ,i have heard many sermons from ,roman ,catholic priests1 but ,i never yet heard1 in the strongest holds of ,romanism1 any so monstrous an instance of special pleading2 in fact1 it never could have occurred in a sermon by any respectable ,roman ,catholic divine2 for the ,romanists are trained to argument from their youth1 and are always to some extent plausible4 ,it is of course impossible to determine1 in such cases1 how far the preacher1 having conscientiously made up his mind on the subject by foregoing thought1 and honestly desiring to impress his conclusion on his congregation1 may think his object will be best1 and even justifiably attained1 by insisting on all that is in favor of his position1 and trusting to the weak heads of his hearers not to find out the arguments for the contrary2 fearing that if he stated1 in any proportionate measure1 the considerations on the other side1 he might not be able1 in the time allotted to him1 to bring out his conclusion fairly4 ,this1 though ,i hold it an entirely false view1 is nevertheless a comprehensible and pardonable one1 especially in a man familiar with the reasoning capacities of the public2 though those capacities themselves owe half their shortcomings to being so unworthily treated4 ,but1 on the whole1 and looking broadly at the way the speakers and teachers of the nation set about their business1 there is an almost fathomless failure in the results1 owing to the general admission of special pleading as an art to be taught to youth4 ,the main thing which we ought to teach our youth is to see something1--all that the eyes which ,god has given them are capable of seeing4 ,the sum of what we do teach them is to say something4 ,as far as ,i have experience of instruction1 no man ever dreams of teaching a boy to get to the root of a matter2 to think it out2 to get quit of passion and desire in the process of thinking2 or to fear no face of man in plainly asserting the ascertained result4 ,but to say anything in a glib and graceful manner1--to give an epigrammatic turn to nothing1--to quench the dim perceptions of a feeble adversary1 and parry cunningly the home thrusts of a strong one1--to invent blanknesses in speech for breathing time1 and slipperinesses in speech for hiding time1--to polish malice to the deadliest edge1 shape profession to the seemliest shadow1 and mask self-interest under the fairest pretext1--all these skills we teach definitely1 as the main arts of business and life4 ,there is a strange significance in the admission of ,aristotle's ,rhetoric at our universities as a class-book4 ,cheating at cards is a base profession enough1 but truly it would be wiser to print a code of gambler's legerdemain1 and give that for a class-book1 than to make the legerdemain of human speech1 and the clever shuffling of the black spots in the human heart1 the first study of our politic youth4 ,again1 the ,ethics of ,aristotle1 though containing some shrewd talk1 interesting for an old reader1 are yet so absurdly illogical and sophistical1 that if a young man has once read them with any faith1 it must take years before he recovers from the induced confusions of thought and false habits of argument4 ,if there were the slightest dexterity or ingenuity in maintaining the false theory1 there might be some excuse for retaining the ,ethics as a school-book1 provided only the tutor were careful to point out1 on first opening it1 that the ,christian virtues1--namely1 to love with all the heart1 soul1 and strength2 to fight1 not as one that beateth the air2 and to do with might whatsoever the hand findeth to do1--could not in anywise be defined as habits of choice in moderation4 ,but the ,aristotelian quibbles are so shallow1 that ,i look upon the retention of the book as a confession by our universities that they consider practice in shallow quibbling one of the essential disciplines of youth4 ,take1 for instance1 the distinction made between ,envy and ,rejoicing at ,evil 7,greek3 phthonos and ,greek3 epichairekakia71 in the second book of the ,ethics1 viz41 that envy is grieved when any one meets with good-fortune2 but the rejoicer at evil so far misses of grieving1 as even to rejoice 7the distinction between the good and evil1 as subjects of the emotion1 being thus omitted1 and merely the verbal opposition of grief and joy caught at72 and conceive the result1 in the minds of most youths1 of being forced to take tricks of words such as this 7and there are too many of them in even the best ,greek writers7 for subjects of daily study and admiration2 the theory of the ,ethics being1 besides1 so hopelessly untenable1 that even quibbling will not always face it out1--nay1 will not help it in exactly the first and most important example of virtue which ,aristotle has to give1 and the very one which we might have thought his theory would have fitted most neatly2 for defining temperance as a mean1 and intemperance as one relative extreme1 not being able to find an opposite extreme1 he escapes with the apology that the kind of person who sins in the other extreme has no precise name2 because1 on the whole1 he does not exist6 ,i know well the common censure by which objections to such futilities of so-called education are met1 by the men who have been ruined by them1--the common plea that anything does to exercise the mind upon4 ,it is an utterly false one4 ,the human soul1 in youth1 is not a machine of which you can polish the cogs with any kelp or brickdust near at hand2 and1 having got it into working order1 and good1 empty1 and oiled serviceableness1 start your immortal locomotive at twenty-five years old or thirty1 express from the ,strait ,gate1 on the ,narrow ,road4 ,the whole period of youth is one essentially of formation1 edification1 instruction1 ,i use the words with their weight in them2 intaking of stores1 establishment in vital habits1 hopes and faiths4 ,there is not an hour of it but is trembling with destinies1--not a moment of which1 once past1 the appointed work can ever be done again1 or the neglected blow struck on the cold iron4 ,take your vase of ,venice glass out of the furnace1 and strew chaff over it in its transparent heat1 and recover that to its clearness and rubied glory when the north wind has blown upon it2 but do not think to strew chaff over the child fresh from ,god's presence1 and to bring the heavenly colors back to him--at least in this world4 ,,footnotes #abj ,compare ,stones of ,venice1 vol4 iii4 chap4 iii4 #gd4 #aba ,taken all in all1 the works of ,cruikshank have the most sterling value of any belonging to this class1 produced in ,england4 #abb ,the notice in ,blackwood is still more scurrilous2 the circumstance of ,keats having been brought up a surgeon is the staple of the jokes of the piece4 ,he is told 'it is a better and wiser thing to be a starved apothecary than a starved poet4'--,milnes' ,life of ,keats1 vol4 i4 p4 #bjj1 and compare pp4 #aic1 #aid4 ,it may perhaps be said that ,i attach too much importance to the evil of base criticism2 but those who think so have never rightly understood its scope1 nor the reach of that stern saying of ,johnson's 7,idler1 ,no4 #c1 ,april #bi1 #ageh73 ,little does he 7who assumes the character of a critic7 think how many harmless men he involves in his own guilt1 by teaching them to be noxious without malignity1 and to repeat objections which they do not understand4 ,and truly1 not in this kind only1 but in all things whatsoever1 there is not1 to my mind1 a more woful or wonderful matter of thought than the power of a fool4 ,in the world's affairs there is no design so great or good but it will take twenty wise men to help it forward a few inches1 and a single fool can stop it2 there is no evil so great or so terrible but that1 after a multitude of counsellors have taken means to avert it1 a single fool will bring it down4 ,pestilence1 famine1 and the sword1 are given into the fool's hand as the arrows into the hand of the giant3 and if he were fairly set forth in the right motley1 the web of it should be sackcloth and sable2 the bells on his cap1 passing balls2 his badge1 a bear robbed of her whelps2 and his bauble1 a sexton's spade4 #abc ,by the way1 this doubt of the possibility of an emperor's death till he proves it1 is a curious fact in the history of ,scottish metaphysics in the nineteenth century4 #abd ,the following extract from my diary refers to the only instance in which ,i remember any appearance of a spring1 or welling of water through inner fissures1 in the aiguilles4 #bjth ,august4 ,ascended the moraine till ,i reached the base of ,blaitire2 the upper part of the moraine excessively loose and edgy2 covered with fresh snow3 the rocks were wreathed in mist1 and a light sleet1 composed of small grains of kneaded snow1 kept beating in my face2 it was bitter cold too1 though the thermometer was at #dc1 but the wind was like that of an ,english ,december thaw4 ,i got to the base of the aiguille1 however1 one of the most grand and sweeping bits of granite ,i have ever seen2 a small gurgling streamlet1 escaping from a fissure not wide enough to let in my hand1 made a strange hollow ringing in the compact rock1 and came welling out over its ledges with the sound1 and successive wave1 of water out of a narrow-necked bottle1 covering the rock with ice 7which must have been frozen there last night7 two inches thick4 ,i levelled the ,breven top1 and found it a little beneath me2 the ,charmoz glacier on the left1 sank from the moraine in broken fragments of nev1 and swept back under the dark walls of the ,charmoz1 lost in cloud4 #abe ,if these two unlucky words get much more hold in the language1 we shall soon have our philosophers refusing to call their dinner dinner1 but speaking of it always as their objective appetite4 ,,end ,,of ,,the ,,fourth ,,volume4 99 99 99 99 99 ,,corrections ,,made ,,to ,,the ,,original ,,text4 ,page #ca3 'his insistence upon this' corrected from 'insistance4' ,page #de3 'for in utter darkness the distinction is not visible' changed from 'darknes4' ,page #eb3 'sharks1 slugs1 bones1 fungi1 frogs' originally 'fogs4' ,page #fj3 'sitting about three yards from a bookcase' changed from 'yard4' ,page #hi3 ',we imagine the ,deity in like manner' originally 'maner4' ,page #adc3 'whatever their material may be1--tilted slightly up' changed from 'tited4' ,page #aee3 'action actually taking place' corrected from 'palce4' ,page #ahe3 'which in its beautifully curved outline7' extra '7' removed4 ,page #bfa3 'it seems partly to rebuke1 and partly to guard'corrected from 'and party4' ,page #bgi3 'partly of their own own gravity' removed duplicate 'own4' ,page #bhd3 7footnote #ia7 ',ce n'est pas c'a' changed to ',ce n'est pas a4' ,page #bia3 'are distinguished from the work of other painters' from 'distingushd4' ,page #cjj3 ',shakespere' changed to ',shakespeare4' ,page #cag3 ,,chapter ,,xix start added '#a' after the 4 ,page #ceb3 'its direction is illegitimate' from 'illegitmate4' ,page #cef3 ',celui qui boira' corrected from 'doira4' ,page #ceh3 'all its peculiarities are mannerisms' changed from 'peculiarites4'