the spirit of place and other essays-第4章

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that　death　would　bring　an　end；　and　that　its　equalities　would　make

vain　the　differences　of　wit　and　wealth　which　they　took　apparently

more　seriously　than　to　us　seems　probable。　　They　never　wearied　of　the

wonder。　　The　poetry　of　our　day　has　an　entirely　different　emotion　for

death　as　parting。　　It　was　not　parting　that　the　lyrists　sang　of；　it

was　the　mere　simplicity　of　death。　　None　of　our　contemporaries　will

take　such　a　subject；　they　have　no　more　than　the　ordinary　conviction

of　the　matter。　　For　the　great　treatment　of　obvious　things　there　must

evidently　be　an　extraordinary　conviction。



But　whether　the　chief　Lady　of　the　lyrics　be　this；　or　whether　she　be

the　implacable　Elizabethan　feigned　by　the　love…songs；　she　has

equally　passed　from　before　the　eyes　of　poets。







JULY







One　has　the　leisure　of　July　for　perceiving　all　the　differences　of

the　green　of　leaves。　　It　is　no　longer　a　difference　in　degrees　of

maturity；　for　all　the　trees　have　darkened　to　their　final　tone；　and

stand　in　their　differences　of　character　and　not　of　mere　date。

Almost　all　the　green　is　grave；　not　sad　and　not　dull。　　It　has　a

darkened　and　a　daily　colour；　in　majestic　but　not　obvious　harmony

with　dark　grey　skies；　and　might　look；　to　inconstant　eyes；　as　prosaic

after　spring　as　eleven　o'clock　looks　after　the　dawn。



Gravity　is　the　wordnot　solemnity　as　towards　evening；　nor　menace　as

at　night。　　The　daylight　trees　of　July　are　signs　of　common　beauty；

common　freshness；　and　a　mystery　familiar　and　abiding　as　night　and

day。　　In　childhood　we　all　have　a　more　exalted　sense　of　dawn　and

summer　sunrise　than　we　ever　fully　retain　or　quite　recover；　and　also

a　far　higher　sensibility　for　April　and　April　eveningsa　heartache

for　them；　which　in　riper　years　is　gradually　and　irretrievably

consoled。



But；　on　the　other　hand；　childhood　has　so　quickly　learned　to　find

daily　things　tedious；　and　familiar　things　importunate；　that　it　has

no　great　delight　in　the　mere　middle　of　the　day；　and　feels　weariness

of　the　summer　that　has　ceased　to　change　visibly。　　The　poetry　of　mere

day　and　of　late　summer　becomes　perceptible　to　mature　eyes　that　have

long　ceased　to　be　sated；　have　taken　leave　of　weariness；　and　cannot

now　find　anything　in　nature　too　familiar；　eyes　which　have；　indeed；

lost　sight　of　the　further　awe　of　midsummer　daybreak；　and　no　longer

see　so　much　of　the　past　in　April　twilight　as　they　saw　when　they　had

no　past；　but　which　look　freshly　at　the　dailiness　of　green　summer；　of

early　afternoon；　of　every　sky　of　any　form　that　comes　to　pass；　and　of

the　darkened　elms。



Not　unbeloved　is　this　serious　tree；　the　elm；　with　its　leaf　sitting

close；　unthrilled。　　Its　stature　gives　it　a　dark　gold　head　when　it

looks　alone　to　a　late　sun。　　But　if　one　could　go　by　all　the　woods；

across　all　the　old　forests　that　are　now　meadowlands　set　with　trees；

and　could　walk　a　county　gathering　trees　of　a　single　kind　in　the

mind；　as　one　walks　a　garden　collecting　flowers　of　a　single　kind　in

the　hand；　would　not　the　harvest　be　a　harvest　of　poplars？　　A

veritable　passion　for　poplars　is　a　most　intelligible　passion。　　The

eyes　do　gather　them；　far　and　near；　on　a　whole　day's　journey。　　Not

one　is　unperceived；　even　though　great　timber　should　be　passed；　and

hill…sides　dense　and　deep　with　trees。　　The　fancy　makes　a　poplar　day

of　it。　　Immediately　the　country　looks　alive　with　signals；　for　the

poplars　everywhere　reply　to　the　glance。　　The　woods　may　be　all

various；　but　the　poplars　are　separate。



All　their　many　kinds　（and　aspens；　their　kin；　must　be　counted　with

them）　shake　themselves　perpetually　free　of　the　motionless　forest。

It　is　easy　to　gather　them。　　Glances　sent　into　the　far　distance　pay

them　a　flash　of　recognition　of　their　gentle　flashes；　and　as　you

journey　you　are　suddenly　aware　of　them　close　by。　　Light　and　the

breezes　are　as　quick　as　the　eyes　of　a　poplar…lover　to　find　the

willing　tree　that　dances　to　be　seen。



No　lurking　for　them；　no　reluctance。　　One　could　never　make　for

oneself　an　oak　day　so　well。　　The　oaks　would　wait　to　be　found；　and

many　would　be　missed　from　the　gathering。　　But　the　poplars　are　alert

enough　for　a　traveller　by　express；　they　have　an　alarum　aloft；　and　do

not　sleep。　　From　within　some　little　grove　of　other　trees　a　single

poplar　makes　a　slight　sign；　or　a　long　row　of　poplars　suddenly　sweep

the　wind。　　They　are　salient　everywhere；　and　full　of　replies。　　They

are　as　fresh　as　streams。



It　is　difficult　to　realize　a　drought　where　there　are　many　poplars。

And　yet　their　green　is　not　rich；　the　coolest　have　a　colour　much

mingled　with　a　cloud…grey。　　It　does　but　need　fresh　and　simple　eyes

to　recognize　their　unfaded　life。　　When　the　other　trees　grow　dark　and

keep　still；　the　poplar　and　the　aspen　do　not　darkenor　hardlyand

the　deepest　summer　will　not　find　a　day　in　which　they　do　not　keep

awake。　　No　waters　are　so　vigilant；　even　where　a　lake　is　bare　to　the

wind。



When　Keats　said　of　his　Dian　that　she　fastened　up　her　hair　〃with

fingers　cool　as　aspen　leaves；〃　he　knew　the　coolest　thing　in　the

world。　　It　is　a　coolness　of　colour；　as　well　as　of　a　leaf　which　the

breeze　takes　on　both　sidesthe　greenish　and　the　greyish。　　The

poplar　green　has　no　glows；　no　gold；　it　is　an　austere　colour；　as

little　rich　as　the　colour　of　willows；　and　less　silvery　than　theirs。

The　sun　can　hardly　gild　it；　but　he　can　shine　between。　　Poplars　and

aspens　let　the　sun　through　with　the　wind。　　You　may　have　the　sky

sprinkled　through　them　in　high　midsummer；　when　all　the　woods　are

close。



Sending　your　fancy　poplar…gathering；　then；　you　ensnare　wild　trees；

beating　with　life。　　No　fisher's　net　ever　took　such　glancing　fishes；

nor　did　the　net　of　a　constellation's　shape　ever　enclose　more

vibrating　Pleiades。







WELLS







The　world　at　present　is　inclined　to　make　sorry　mysteries　or

unattractive　secrets　of　the　methods　and　supplies　of　the　fresh　and

perennial　means　of　life。　　A　very　dull　secret　is　made　of　water；　for

example；　and　the　plumber　sets　his　seal　upon　the　floods　whereby　we

live。　　They　are　covered；　they　are　carried；　they　are　hushed；　from　the

spring　to　the　tap；　and　when　their　voices　are　released　at　last　in　the

London　scullery；　why；　it　can　hardly　be　said　that　the　song　is

eloquent　of　the　natural　source　of　waters；　whether　earthly　or

heavenly。　　There　is　not　one　of　the　circumstances　of　this　capture　of

streamsthe　company；　the　water…rate；　and　the　restthat　is　not　a

sign　of　the　ill…luck　of　modern　devices　in　regard　to　style。　　For

style　implies　a　candour　and　simplicity　of　means；　an　action；　a

gesture；　as　it　were；　in　the　doing　of　small　things；　it　is　the

ignorance　of　secret　ways；　whereas　the　finish　of　modern　life　and　its

neatness　seem　to　be　secured　by　a　system　of　little　shufflings　and

surprises。



Dress；　among　other　things；　is　furnished　throughout　with　such

fittings；　they　form　its　very　construction。　　Style　does　not　exist　in

modern　arrayings；　for　all　their　prettiness　and　precision；　and　for

all　the　successeswhich　are　not　to　be　deniedof　their　outer　part；

the　happy　little　swagger　that　simulates　style　is　but　another　sign　of

its　absence；　being　prepared　by　mere　dodges　and　dexterities　beneath；

and　the　triumph　and　success　of　the　present　art　of　raiment〃fit〃

itselfis　but　the　result　of　a　masked　and　lurking　labour　and　device。



The　masters　of　fine　manners；　moreover；　seem　to　be　always　aware　of

the　beauty　that　comes　of　pausing　slightly　upon　the　smaller　and

slighter　actions；　such　as　meaner　men　are　apt　to　hurry　out　of　the

way。　　In　a　word；　the　workman；　with　his　finish　and　accomplishment；　is

the　dexterous　provider　of　contemporary　things；　and　the　ready；　well…

appointed；　and　decorated　life　of　all　towns　is　now　altogether　in　his

hands；　whereas　the　artist　craftsman　of　other　times　made　a

manifestation　of　his　means。　　The　first　hides　the　streams；　under

stress　and　pressure；　in　paltry　pipes　which　we　all　must　make　haste　to

call　upon　the　earth　to　cover；　and　the　second　lifted　up　the　arches　of

the　aqueduct。



The　search　of　easy　ways　to　live　is　not　always　or　everywhere　the　way

to　ugliness；　but　in　some　countries；　at　some　dates；　it　is　the　sure

way。　　In　all　countries；　and　at　all　dates；　extreme　finish　compassed

by　hidden　means　must　needs；　from　the　beginning；　prepare　the

abolition　of　dignity。　　This　is　easy　to　understand；　but　it　is　less

easy　to　explain　the　ill…fortune　that　presses　upon　the　expert

workman；　in　search　of　easy　ways　to　live；　all　the　ill…favoured

materials；　makes　them　cheap　for　him；　makes　them　serviceable　and

effectual；　urges　him　to　use　them；　seal　them；　and　inter　them；　turning

the　trim　and　dull　completeness　out　to　the　view　of　the　daily　world。

It　is　an　added　mischance。　　Nor；　on　the　other　hand；　is　it　easy　to

explain　the　beautiful　good　luck　attending　the　simpler　devices　which

are；　after　all；　only　less　expert　ways　of　labour。　　In　those　happy

conditions；　neither　from　the　material；　suggesting　to　the　workman；

nor　from　the　workman　looking　askance　at　his　unhandsome　material；

comes　a　first　proposal　to　pour　in　cement　and　make　fast　the

underworld；　out　of　sight。　　But　fate　spares　not　that　suggestion　to

the　able　and　the　unlucky　at　their　task　of　making　neat　work　of　the

means；　the　distribution；　the　traffick　of　life。



The　springs；　then；　the　profound　wells；　the　streams；　are　of　all　the

means　of　our　lives　those　which　we　should　wish　to　see　open　to　the

sun；　with　their　waters　on　their　progress　and　their　way　to　us；　but；

no；　they　are　lapped　in　lead。



King　Pandion　and　his　friends　lie　not　under　heavier　seals。



Yet　we　have　been　delighted；　elsewhere；　by　open　floods。　　The　hiding…

place　that　nature　and　the　simpler　crafts　allot　to　the　waters　of

wells　are；　at　their　deepest；　in　communication　with　the　open　sky。　　No

other　mine　is　so　visited；　for　the　noonday　sun　himself　is　visible

there；　and　it　is　fine　to　think　of　the　waters　of　this　planet；　shallow

and　profound；　all　charged　with　shining　suns；　a　multitude　of　waters

multiplying　suns；　and　carrying　that　remote　fire；　as　it　were；　within

their　unalterable　freshness。　　Not　a　pool　without　this　visitant；　or

without　passages　of　stars。　　As　for　the　wells　of　the　Equator；　you　may

think　of　them　in　their　last　recesses　as　the　daily　bathing…places　of

light；　a　luminous　fancy　is　able　so　to　scatter　fitful　figures　of　the

sun；　and　to　plunge　them　in　thousands　within　those　deeps。



Round　images　lie　in　the　dark　waters；　but　in　the　bright　waters　the

sun　is　shattered　out　of　its　circle；　scattered　into　waves；　broken

across　stones；　and　rippled　over　sand；　and　in　the　shallow　rivers　that

fall　through　chestnut　woods　the　image　is　mingled　with　the　mobile

figures　of　leaves。　　To　all　these　waters　the　agile　air　has　perpetual

access。　　Not　so　can　great　towns　be　watered；　it　will　be　said　with

reason；　and　this　is　precisely　the　ill…luck　of　great　towns。



Nevertheless；　there　are　towns；　not；　in　a　sense；　so　great；　that　have

the　grace　of　visible　wells；　such　as　Venice；　where　every　campo　has

its　circle　of　carved　stone；　its　clashing　of　dark　copper　o