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现代英语散文选读ModernEnglishEssaysIsortofrealizewhatwe’refightingfornow,andIneverdidbefore.It’sforwomenlikethatandtheirkids.—“HolyIreland”byJoyceKilmer当代英语散文选读

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2Contents1.AmericanLiteraturebyJohnMacy12.MaryWhitebyWilliamAllenWhite103.NiagaraFallsbyRupertBrooke144.TheAlmostPerfectStatebyDonMarquis18I18II205.“TheMan-o’-War’s’Er’Usband”byDavidW.Bone236.TheMarketbyWilliamMcFee287.HolyIrelandbyJoyceKilmer318.AFamiliarPrefacebyJosephConrad389.OnDrawingbyA.P.Herbert4410.O.HenrybyO.W.Firkins4711.TheMowingofaFieldbyHilaireBelloc5312.TheStudentLifebyWilliamOsler6013.TheDeclineoftheDramabyStephenLeacock6814.AmericaandtheEnglishTraditionbyHarryMorganAyres7215.TheRussianQuarterbyThomasBurke7516.AWordforAutumnbyA.A.Milne8117.“AClergyman”byMaxBeerbohm8318.SamuelButler:DiogenesoftheVictoriansbyStuartP.Sherman8819.Bed-BooksandNight-LightsbyH.M.Tomlinson9920.ThePreceptofPeacebyLouiseImogenGuiney10421.OnLyingAwakeatNightbyStewartEdwardWhite10922.AWoodlandValentinebyMarianStorm11223.TheElementsofPoetrybyGeorgeSantayana11524.NocturnebySimeonStrunsky11725.BeerandCiderbyGeorgeSaintsbury12026.AFreeMan’sWorshipByBertrandRussell12527.SomeHistoriansbyPhilipGuedalla132TheNightAttack135HowthePrussiansCameToGuitry-Le-Sec13528.WinterMistbyRobertPalfreyUtter13829.TriviabyLoganPearsallSmith141Stonehenge141TheStars141

3TheSpider142L’OiseauBleu142ISeetheWorld142TheChurchofEngland143Consolation143TheKaleidoscope143ThePoplar14430.BeyondLifebyJamesBranchCabell14531.TheFishReporterbyRobertCortesHolliday15132.SomeNonsenseaboutaDogbyHarryEstyDounce15833.TheFifty-FirstDragonbyHeywoodBroun161

41.AmericanLiteraturebyJohnMacyThisvigoroussurveyofAmericanlettersisthefirstchapterofJohnMacy’sadmirablevolumeTheSpiritofAmericanLiterature,publishedin1913—abookshrewd,penetratingandsalty,whichhasunfortunatelyneverreachedone-tenthofthemanyreaderswhowouldfinditpermanentlydelightfulandprofitable.Mr.Macyhasnoskillinvaudevilletrickstocallattentiontohimself:noshaftsoflimelighthavefollowedhimacrossthestage.Butthosewhohaveaneyeforcriticismthatisvivaciouswithoutbombast,austerewithoutbitterness,keenwithoutmalice,knowhimasoneofthetrulycompetentandliberal-mindedobserversoftheliteraryscene.Mr.MacywasborninDetroit,1877;graduatedfromHarvardin1899;dideditorialserviceontheYouth’sCompanionandtheBostonHerald;andnowadayslivespensivelyinGreenwichVillage,writingagooddealforTheFreemanandTheLiteraryReview.Perhaps,ifyouwerewanderingonFourthStreet,eastofSixthAvenue,youmightseehimtreadingthoughtfullyalong,withawidesombrerohat,andalwaystroubledbyaniron-grayforelockthatdroopsoverhisbrow.Youwouldknow,assoonasyousawhim,thatheisamangreatlylovable.IliketothinkofhimasIfirstsawhim,someyearsago,infrontofthebrighthearthofthecharmingSt.BotolphClubinBoston,wherehewasusuallythecenterofananimatedgroupofnocturnalphilosophers.Theessaywaswrittenin1912,beforetheveryrealreawakeningofAmericancreativeworkthatbeganinthe’teensofthiscentury.ThereaderwillfinditinterestingtoconsiderhowfarMr.Macy’sremarksmightbemodifiedifhewerewritingto-day. TheSpiritofAmericanLiteraturehasbeenreissuedinaninexpensiveeditionbyBoniandLiveright.Itisabookwellworthowning.AMERICANliteratureisabranchofEnglishliterature,astrulyasareEnglishbookswritteninScotlandorSouthAfrica.Ourliteratureliesalmostentirelyinthenineteenthcenturywhentheideasandbooksofthewesternworldwerefreelyinterchangedamongthenationsandbecameaccessibletoanincreasingnumberofreaders.Inliteraturenationalityisdeterminedbylanguageratherthanbybloodorgeography.M.Maeterlinck,bornasubjectofKingLeopold,belongstoFrenchliterature.Mr.JosephConrad,borninPoland,isalreadyanEnglishclassic.Geography,muchlessimportantinthenineteenthcenturythanbefore,wasnever,amongmodernEuropeannations,soimportantaswesometimesareaskedtobelieve.OftheancestorsofEnglishliterature“Beowulf”isscarcelymoresignificant,andratherlessgraceful,thanourtree-inhabitingforebearswithprehensiletoes;thetrueprogenitorsofEnglishliteratureareGreek,Latin,Hebrew,Italian,andFrench.1AmericanliteratureandEnglishliteratureofthenineteenthcenturyareparallelderivatives

5fromprecedingcenturiesofEnglishliterature.Literatureisasuccessionofbooksfrombooks.Artisticexpressionspringsfromlifeultimatelybutnotimmediately.Itmaybelikenedtoariverwhichisswollenthroughoutitscoursebynewtributariesandbytheseepagesofitsbanks;itreflectsthelifethroughwhichitflows,takingcolorfromtheshores;theshoresmodifyit,butitspowerandvolumedescendfromdistantheadwatersandaffluentfarupstream.Oritmaybelikenedtotherace-lifewhichourfoodnourishesorimpoverisheswhichourindividualcircumstancesfosterordamage,butwhichflowsonthroughus,strangelyimpersonalandbeyondourpowertokillorcreate.2Itiswellforawritertosay:“Awaywithbooks!Iwilldrawmyinspirationfromlife!”ForwehavetoomanybooksthataresimplybetterbooksdilutedbyJohnSmith.Atthesametime,literatureisnotbornspontaneouslyoutoflife.Everybookhasitsliteraryparentage,andstudentsfinditsoeasytotracegenealogiesthatmuchcriticismreadslikeanOldTestamentchapterof“begats.”Everynovelwassuckledatthebreastsofoldernovels,andgreatmothersareoftenprolificofanemicoffspring.Thestockfallsoffandrevives,goesa-wandering,andreturnslikeaprodigal.Thefamilyrecordsgetblurred.Butofthemainfactofdescentthereisnodoubt.3AmericanliteratureisEnglishliteraturemadeinthiscountry.Itsnineteenth-centurycharacteristicsareevidentandcanbeanalyzedanddiscussedwithsomedegreeofcertainty.Its“American”characteristics—nocriticthatIknowhasevergivenagoodaccountofthem.YoucandefinecertainpeculiaritiesofAmericanpolitics,Americanagriculture,Americanpublicschools,evenAmericanreligion.ButwhatisuniquelyAmericaninAmericanliterature?PoeisjustasAmericanasMarkTwain;LanierisjustasAmericanasWhittier.TheAmericanspiritinliteratureisamyth,likeAmericanvalorinwar,whichispreciselylikethevalorofItaliansandJapanese.TheAmerican,deludedbyafalselyidealizedimagewhichhecallsAmerica,cansaythatthepurityofLongfellowrepresentsthepurityofAmericanhomelife.AnIrishEnglishman,Mr.BernardShaw,withanotherfalselyidealizedimageofAmerica,surprisedthatafacedoesnotfithisimage,canask:“WhatisPoedoinginthatgalley?”Thereisnoanswer.Younevercantell.Poecouldnothelpit.HewasborninBoston,andlivedinRichmond,NewYork,Baltimore,Philadelphia.ProfessorvanDykesaysthatPoewasamakerof“decidedlyun-Americancameo,”butIdonotunderstandwhatthatmeans.Factsareuncomfortableconsortsofprejudicesandemotionalgeneralities;theyspoildomesticpeace,andwhenthereisaseparationtheysitsolidathomewhiletheotherpartygoes.Irving,ashy,sensitivegentleman,whowrotewithfastidiouscare,said:“Ithasbeenamatterofmarvel,toEuropeanreaders,thatamanfromthewildsofAmericashouldexpresshimselfintolerableEnglish.”Itisamatterofmarvel,justasitisamarvelthatBlakeandKeatsfloweredinthebrutalcityofLondonahundredyearsago.4Theliterarymindisstrengthenedandnurtured,isinfluencedandmastered,bytheaccumulatedrichesofliterature.InthelastcenturythestrongestthinkersinourlanguagewereEnglishmen,

6andnotonlythetraditionalbutthecontemporaryinfluencesonourthinkersandartistswereBritish.ThismayaccountforonenegativecharacteristicofAmericanliterature—itslackofAmericanquality.True,ourrecordsmustreflectourlife.Ourpoets,enamoredofnightingalesandPersiangardens,havenotaltogetherforgottenthemocking-birdandthewoodsofMaine.Fiction,writtenbyinhabitantsofNewYork,Ohio,andMassachusetts,doestellussomethingofthewaysoflifeinthosemightycommonwealths,justasEnglishfictionwrittenbyLancashiremenaboutLancashirepeopleissaturatedwiththedialect,thelocalhabitsandsceneryofthatcounty.ButwhereveranEnglish-speakingmanofimaginationmaydwell,inDorsetorCalcuttaorIndianapolis,heissubjecttothestrongarmoftheempireofEnglishliterature;hecannotescapeit;ittearshimoutofhisobscurebedandmakesahappyslaveofhim.Heisassignedtothedepartmentoftheserviceforwhichhisgiftsqualifyhim,andhisspecialeducationisundertakenbydrill-mastersandcaptainswhohailfromprovincesfarfromhisbirthplace.5Dickens,whowritesofLondon,influencesBretHarte,whowritesofCalifornia,andBretHarteinfluencesKipling,whowritesofIndia.Eachisintenselylocalinsubjectmatter.Theaffinitybetweenthemisamatteroftemperament,manifested,forexample,intheswaggerandexaggerationcharacteristicofallthree.Californiadidnot“produce”BretHarte;thepowerofDickenswasgreaterthanthatoftheSierrasandtheGoldenGate.BretHartecreatedaCaliforniathatneverexisted,andIndiangentlemen,CaucasianandHindoo,tellusthatKiplinginventedanarmyandanempireunknowntogeographersandwar-offices.6TheideasatworkamongtheseEnglishmenoflettersareworld-encirclingandflybetweenbookandbrain.ThedominantpowerisontheBritishIslands,andtheprevailingstreamofinfluenceflowswestacrosstheAtlantic.Sometimesitturnsandrunstheotherway.PoeinfluencedRossetti;WhitmaninfluencedHenley.ForacenturyCooperhasbeenincommandoftheBritishliterarymarine.Literatureisreprehensiblyunpatriotic,eventhoughitsvotariesare,asindividualcitizens,afflictedwithlocalpridesandhostilities.IttakesonlyadramaticinterestinthegunsofYorktown.ItsphilosophywasnoblyutteredbyGastonParisintheCollègedeFrancein1870,whenthecitywasbeleagueredbytheGermanarmies:“Commonstudies,pursuedinthesamespirit,inallcivilizedcountries,form,beyondtherestrictionsofdiverseandoftenhostilenationalities,agreatcountrywhichnowarprofanes,noconquerormenaces,wheresoulsfindthatrefugeandunitywhichinformertimeswasofferedthembythecityofGod.”ThecatholicityofEnglishlanguageandliteraturetranscendsthetemporalboundariesofstates.7What,then,ofthe“provincialism”oftheAmericanprovinceoftheempireofBritishliterature?Isitanobservablegeneralcharacteristic,andisitavirtueoravice?ThereisasenseinwhichAmericanliteratureisnotprovincialenough.ThemostprovincialofallliteratureistheGreek.TheGreeksknewnothingoutsideofGreeceandneededtoknownothing.TheOldTestamentistribalinitsprovinciality;itsgodisalocalgod,anditsvillagepoliceandsanitaryregulationsare

7erectedintoeternallaws.Ifthisraciallocalismisnotessentialtothegreatnessofearlyliteratures,itisinseparablefromthem;wefinditthere.itisnotpossibleinourcosmopolitanageandtherearefewtracesofitinAmericanbooks.NoAmericanpoethassungofhisneighborhoodwithnaivepassion,asifitwerealltheworldtohim.WhitmanispugnaciouslyAmerican,buthissympathiesareuniversal,hisvisioniscosmic;whenheseemstobestandinginacitystreetlookingatlife,heisintrance,andhisspiritisracingwiththewinds.8ThewelcomethatwegaveWhitmanbetraysthelackofanadmirablekindofprovincialism;itshowsusdefectiveinlocalsecurityofjudgment.SomeofushavebeensoanxiouslyabashedbyhighstandardsofEuropeanculturethatwecouldnotseeapoetinourownbackyarduntilEuropeanpoetsandcriticstoldushewasthere.ThisisqueerlycontradictorytoadispositionfoundinsomeAmericanstodisregardworldstandardsandproclaimathird-ratepoetastheMiltonofOshkoshortheShelleyofSanFrancisco.ThepassageinLowell’s“FableforCritics”about“TheAmericanBulwers,DisraelisandScotts”isaspoonfulofsaltinthemouthofthatsortofgapingvillagereverence.9Ofdignifiedandself-respectingprovincialismsuchasProfessorRoycesoeloquentlyadvocates,theremightwellbemoreinAmericanbooks.Ourpoetsdesertthedomesticlandscapetowritepseudo-ElizabethandramasandsonnetsaboutMontBlanc.TheysetupanartificialTennysonparkonthebanksoftheHudson.BesidetheshoresofLakeMichigantheycroontheloveaffairsofanArabinthedesertandhisnoblesteed.Thisisnotaverygraveoffence,forpoetsliveamongthestars,anditmakesnodifferencefromwhatpointoftheearth’ssurfacetheysetforthontheiraerialadventures.AWisconsinpoetmaywriteverybeautifullyaboutnightingales,andaNewEnglandUnitarianmaywritebeautifullyaboutcathedrals;ifitisbeautiful,itispoetry,andalliswell.10Thenovelistsaretheworstoffenders.Therehavebeenfewofthem;theyhavenotbeenadequateinnumbersoringeniustothetaskofdescribingthesectionsofthecountry,thevariedscenesandhabitsfromNewOrleanstothePortlands.Andyet,smallbandastheyare,withgreatdomesticopportunitiesandresponsibilities,theyhavedevotedvolumestoParis,whichhasanablenativecorpsofstory-makers,andtoItaly,wherethehometalentisfirst-rate.InthissenseAmericanliteratureistooglobe-trotting,ithastoolittlesavorofthesoil.11OfprovincialismofthenarrowesttypeAmericanwriters,likeothermenofimagination,arenotguiltytoanyreprehensibledegree.ItisavicesometimesimputedtothembyprovincialcriticswhoviewliteraturefromtheofficeofaLondonweeklyrevieworfromthelectureroomsofAmericancolleges.SomeAmericanwritersareparochial,forexample,Whittier.Others,likeMr.HenryJames,areprovincialinoutlook,butcosmopolitaninexperience,andrevealtheirprovincialitybyaself-consciousinternationalism.ProbablyEnglishandFrenchwritersmaybesimilarlyclassifiedasprovincialornot.Mr.JamessaysthatPoe’scollectionofcriticalsketches

8“isprobablythemostcompleteandexquisitespecimenofprovincialismeverpreparedfortheedificationofmen.”Itisnothinglikethat.Itisanexampleofwhathappenswhenahackreviewer’sworkinlocaljournalsiscollectedintoavolumebecauseheturnsouttobeagenius.ThelistofPoe’svictimsisnotmoreremarkableforthenumberofnonentitiesitincludesthan“TheLivesofthePoets”bythegreatDoctorJohnson,whowashackforabookseller,and“introduced”allthepoetsthatthetasteofthetimeencouragedthebooksellertoprint.Poewascosmopolitaninspirit;hisprejudiceswerepersonalandhighlyoriginal,usuallyagainsttheprejudicesofhismomentandmilieu.Hawthorneislessprovincial,inthederogatorysense,thanhischarmingbiographer,Mr.James,aswillbecomeevidentifonecomparesHawthorne’sAmericannotesonEngland,writteninlongagodaysofnationalrancor,withMr.James’sBritishnotesonAmerica(“TheAmericanScene”),writteninourhappydaysofspaciousvision.12Emerson’sencipheringuniversalityoverspreadsCarlyleliketheskyaboveavolcanicisland.IndeedCarlyle(whoknewmoreaboutAmericanlifeandaboutwhatotherpeopleoughttodothananyotherBritishwriterearlierthanMr.Chesterton)justlycomplainsthatEmersonisnotsufficientlylocalandconcrete;Carlylelongstosee“someEvent,Man’sLife,AmericanForest,orpieceofcreationwhichthisEmersonlovesandwondersat,wellEmersonized.”Longfellowwouldnotstayathomeandwritemoreabouttheexcellentvillageblacksmith;hemadepoeticaltoursofEuropeandtranslatedsongsandlegendsfromseverallanguagesforthedelightofthevillagerswhoremainedbehind.LowellwassoheartilycosmopolitanthatAmericannewspapersaccusedhimofAnglomania—whichprovestheirprovincialismbutacquitshim.Mr.HowellshaswrittenabetterbookaboutVenicethanaboutOhio.MarkTwainlivedineverypartofAmerica,fromConnecticuttoCalifornia,hewroteabouteverycountryunderthesun(andaboutsomecountriesbeyondthesun),heisreadbyallsortsandconditionsofmenintheEnglish-speakingworld,andheisanadoptedheroinVienna.ItisdifficulttocometoanyconclusionaboutprovincialismasacharacteristicofAmericanliterature.13Americanliteratureisonthewholeidealistic,sweet,delicate,nicelyfinished.ThereislittleofitwhichmightnothaveappearedintheYouth’sCompanion.Thenotableexceptionsareourmoststalwartmenofgenius,Thoreau,Whitman,andMarkTwain.AnychildcanreadAmericanliterature,andifitdoesnotmakeamanofhim,itatleastwillnotleadhimintoforbiddenrealms.Indeed,Americanbookstooseldomcometogripswiththeproblemsoflife,especiallythebookscastinartisticforms.Theessayists,expounders,andpreachersattacklifevigorouslyandwrestlewiththemeaningofit.Thepoetsarethin,moonshiny,meticulousintechnique.Novelistsarefewandfeebleanddramatistsarenon-existent.Thesegeneralities,subjecttoexceptions,areconfirmedbyareadingofthefirstfifteenvolumesoftheAtlanticMonthly,whichareatreasure-houseoftherichestperiodofAmericanliteraryexpression.Inthosevolumesonefindsasurprisingnumberofvigorous,distinguishedpapersonpolitics,philosophy,science,evenon

9literatureandart.Manytalentedmenandwomen,whosenamesarenotwellremembered,areclusteredthereaboutthehalfdozensalientmenofgenius;andthecollectiongivesoneasensethattheNewEnglandmind(aidedbytheoutlyingcontributors)was,initsoneAgeofThought,anabundantanddiversifiedpower.Butthepoetryisnotmemorable,exceptforsomeversesbythefewstandardpoets.Andthefictionisnaïve.EdwardEverettHale’s“TheManWithoutaCountry”isalmosttheonlystorytherethatonecomesonwithathrilleitherofrecognitionorofdiscovery.14ItishardtoexplainwhytheAmerican,exceptinhisexhortatoryandpassionatelyargumentativemoods,hasnotstruckdeepintoAmericanlife,whyhisstoriesandversesare,forthemostpart,onlyprettythings,nicelyunimportant.AnthonyTrollopehadatheorythattheabsenceofinternationalcopyrightthrewourmarketopentoounrestrictedlytotheBritishproduct,thattheAmericannovelwasanunprotectedinfantindustry;weprintedDickensandtherestwithoutpayingroyaltyandstarvedthedomesticmanufacturer.Thistheorydoesnotexplain.ForthereweremanyAmericannovelists,published,read,andprobablypaidfortheirwork.Thetroubleisthattheylackedgenius;theydealtwithtrivial,slightaspectsoflife;theydidnottakethenovelseriouslyintherightsenseoftheword,thoughnodoubttheywereinanothersenseseriousenoughabouttheirpoorproductions.“UncleTom’sCabin”and“HuckleberryFinn”arecolossalexceptionstotheprevailingweaknessandsuperficialityofAmericannovels.15WhydoAmericanwritersturntheirbacksonlife,missitsintensities,itssignificance?TheAmericanCivilWarwasthemosttremendousupheavalintheworldaftertheNapoleonicperiod.Theimaginativereactiononitconsistsofsomefineessays,Lincoln’saddresses,Whitman’swarpoetry,“UncleTom’sCabin”(whichcamebeforethewarbutispartofit),oneortwopassionatehymnsbyWhittier,thesecondseriesofthe“BiglowPapers,”Hale’s“TheManWithoutaCountry”—andwhatelse?Thenovelslaidinwar-timeareeithersanguinemelodramaorabsurdidylsofmaidenswhoseloversareatthefront—atragicthemeiftragicallyandnotsentimentallyconceived.PerhapsthebulletthatkilledTheodoreWinthropdeprivedusofourgreatnovelistoftheCivilWar,forhewasontherightroad.Inageneralspeculationsuchamight-have-beenisnotaltogetherfutile;ifMiltonhaddiedofwhoopingcoughtherewouldnothavebeenany“ParadiseLost”;thereverseofthisisthatsomegeniuseswhoseworksoughtinevitablytohavebeenproducedbythisorthatnationaldevelopmentmayhavediedtoosoon.Thissuggestion,however,neednotbegravelyargued.ThefactisthattheAmericanliteraryimaginationaftertheCivilWarwasalmoststerile.Ifnobookshadbeenwritten,thefailureofthatconflicttogetitselfembodiedinsomemasterpieceswouldbelessdisconcerting.Butthousandsofbookswerewrittenbypeoplewhoknewthewaratfirsthandandwhohadliteraryambitionandsomeskill,andfromallthesebooksnonerisestodistinction.16AnexampleofwhatseemstobetheAmericanhabitofwritingabouteverythingexcept

10Americanlife,istheworkofGeneralLewWallace.WallacewasoneoftheimportantsecondarygeneralsintheCivilWar,distinguishedatFortDonelsonandatShiloh.Afterthewarhewrote“Ben-Hur,”adoublyabominablebook,becauseitisnotbadlywrittenanditshowsalivelyimagination.Thereisnothinginitsovaluable,sodramaticallysignificantasaweekinWallace’swarexperiences.“Ben-Hur,”fitworkforacountryclergymanwithaprettyliterarygift,isaridiculousinanitytocomefromamanwhohasseenthethingsthatWallacesaw!Itisunderstandablethatthemanofexperiencemaynotwriteatall,and,ontheotherhand,thatthemanofsecludedlifemayhavetheimaginationtomakeamilitaryepic.Butforamancrammedwithexperienceofthemostdramaticsortanddiscoveringtheabilityandtheambitiontowrite—forhimtomakespuriousorientalromanceswhichachieveanenormouspopularity!Thecaseistoogrotesquetobetypical,yetitisexceptionalindegreeratherthaninkind.TheAmericanliteraryartisthaswrittenabouteverythingundertheskiesexceptwhatmattersmostinhisownlife.GeneralGrant’splainautobiography,notartandofcoursenotattemptingtobe,isbetterliteraturethanmostofourbooksinartisticforms,becauseofitsintellectualintegrityandtheprofoundimportanceofthesubject-matter.17Ourdreamershavedreamedaboutmanywonderfulthings,buttheirfaceshavebeenavertedfromthemightierissuesoflife.Theyhavebeenhigh-minded,fine-grained,eloquentinmanner,inoddcontrasttotherealorreputedvigorandcrudenessofthenation.InthehundredyearsfromIrving’sfirstromancetoMr.Howells’slatestunromanticnovel,mostofourbooksareeminentforjustthosevirtueswhichAmericaissupposedtolack.Theirphysiqueisfeminine;theyarefanciful,dainty,reserved;theyareliterose,sophisticatedincraftsmanship,butinnocentlyunawareoftheprofoundagitationsofAmericanlife,oflifeeverywhere.Thosewhostrikethedeepernotesofreality,Whitman,Thoreau,MarkTwain,Mrs.Stoweinheronegreatbook,Whittier,LowellandEmersonattheirbest,areapowerfulminority.Therest,beautifulandfineinspirit,tooseldomshowthattheyareconsciousofcontemporaneousrealities,tooseldomvibratewithatremendoussenseoflife.18TheJasonofWesternexplorationwritesasifhehadpassedhislifeinalibrary.TheUlyssesofgreatriversandperilousseasisaconnoisseurofJapaneseprints.Thewarriorof’Sixty-onerivalsMissMarieCorelli.Theminingengineercarvescherrystones.Hewhoisfiguredasgaunt,hardyandaggressive,conqueringthedesertwiththesteamlocomotive,singsofaprettylittleroseinaprettylittlegarden.Thejudge,haggardwithexperience,whopresidesoverthemosttragi-comicdivorcecourteverdevisedbyman,writeslovestoriesthatwouldhavemadeJaneAustensmile.19Mr.ArnoldBennettisreportedtohavesaidthatifBalzachadseenPittsburgh,hewouldhavecried:“Givemeapen!”Thetruthis,thewholecountryiscryingoutforthosewhowillrecordit,satirizeit,chantit.Asliterarymaterial,itisvirginland,ancientaslifeandfreshasawilderness.

11Americanliteratureisoneoccupationwhichisnotover-crowded,inwhich,indeed,thereisalltoolittlecompetitionforthenewcomertomeet.Therearesignsthatsomeearnestyoungwritersarediscoveringthefertilityofasoilthathasscarcelybeenscratched.20Americanfictionshowsallsortsofmerit,butthemeritsarenotassembled,concentrated;thefineisweak,andthestrongiscrude.ThestoriesofPoe,Hawthorne,Howells,James,Aldrich,BretHarte,areadmirableinmanner,buttheyarethininsubstance,notoflargevitality.Ontheotherhand,someofthestrongerAmericanfictionsfailinworkmanship;forexample,“UncleTom’sCabin,”whichisstillvividandmovinglongafteritstractarianinteresthasfaded;thenovelsofFrankNorris,amanofgreatvisionandhighpurpose,whoattemptedtoputnationaleconomicsintosomethinglikeanepicofdailybread;andHermanMelville’s“MobyDick,”amadlyeloquentromanceofthesea.AfewAmericannovelistshavefeltthemeaningofthelifetheyknewandhavetriedsincerelytosetitdown,buthaveforvariousreasonsfailedtomakefirst-ratenovels;forexample,EdwardEggleston,whosestoriesofearlyIndianahavethebreathofactualityinthem;Mr.E.W.Howe,authorof“TheStoryofaCountryTown”;HaroldFrederic,amanofgreatability,whoseworkwasgrowingdeeper,moresignificantwhenhedied;GeorgeW.Cable,whosenovelsareunsteadyandsentimental,butwhogivesagenuineimpressionofhavingportrayedacityanditspeople;andStephenCrane,who,deadatthirty,hadgivenin“TheRedBadgeofCourage”and“Maggie”thepromiseofbetterwork.OfgoodshortstoriesAmericahasbeenprolific.Mrs.Wilkins-Freeman,Mrs.AnnieTrumbullSlosson,SarahOrneJewett,RowlandRobinson,H.C.Bunner,EdwardEverettHale,FrankStockton,JoelChandlerHarris,and“O.Henry”aresomeofthosewhoseshortstoriesareperfectintheirseveralkinds.ButtheAmericannovel,whichmultipliespastcounting,remainsaninferiorproduction.21OnaprivateshelfofcontemporaryfictionanddramaintheEnglishlanguagearetheworksoftenBritishauthors,Mr.Galsworthy,Mr.H.G.Wells,Mr.ArnoldBennett,Mr.EdenPhillpotts,Mr.GeorgeMoore,Mr.LeonardMerrick,Mr.J.C.Snaith,MissMaySinclair,Mr.WilliamDeMorgan,Mr.MauriceHewlett,Mr.JosephConrad,Mr.BernardShaw,yes,andMr.RudyardKipling.BesidethemIfindbuttwoAmericans,Mrs.EdithWhartonandMr.TheodoreDreiser.Theremaybeothers,foronecannotpretendtoknowallthelivingnovelistsanddramatists.YetforeveryAmericanthatshouldbeadded,IwouldagreetoaddfourtotheBritishlist.However,acontemporaryliteraturethatincludesMrs.Wharton’s“EthanFrome”andMr.Dreiser’s“JennieGerhardt”bothpublishedlastyear,isnottobedespairedof.22InthecourseofacenturyafewAmericanshavesaidinmemorablewordswhatlifemeanttothem.Theirperformance,puttogether,isconsiderable,ifnotimposing.Anysenseofdissatisfactionthatonefeelsincontemplatingitisduetothedisproportionbetweenalimitedexpressionandthemultifariousimmensityofthecountry.Ourliterature,judgedbythegreatliteraturescontemporaneouswithit,isinsufficienttotheopportunityandtheneed.TheAmerican

12SpiritmaybefiguredaspetitioningtheMusesfortwelvenovelists,tenpoets,andeightdramatists,tobedeliveredattheearliestpossiblemoment.

132.MaryWhitebyWilliamAllenWhiteMaryWhite—oneseemstoknowherafterreadingthissketchwrittenbyherfatheronthedayshewasburied—wouldsurelyhavelaughedunbelievinglyiftoldshewouldbeinabookofthissort,togetherwithJosephConrad,oneofwhosebookslayonhertable.Butthepen,inthehonesthand,hasalwaysbeenmightierthanthegrave.Thisisnotthesortofthingonewishestomarwithclumsycomment.ItwaswrittenfortheEmporiaGazette,whichWilliamAllenWhitehaseditedsince1895.Heisoneofthebest-known,mostpublic-spiritedandmosttrulylovedofAmericanjournalists.Heandhisfellow-Kansan,E.W.HoweofAtchison,aretwocharacteristicfiguresinournewspaperworld,bothmastersofthatveinofcanny,straightforward,humaneandhumoroussimplicitythatseemstobeaKansasbirthright.Mr.WhitewasborninEmporiain1868.THEASSOCIATEDPRESSreportscarryingthenewsofMaryWhite’sdeathdeclaredthatitcameastheresultofafallfromahorse.Howshewouldhavehootedatthat!Sheneverfellfromahorseinherlife.Horseshavefallenonherandwithher—“I’malwaystryingtohold’eminmylap,”sheusedtosay.Butshewasproudoffewthings,andonewasthatshecouldrideanythingthathadfourlegsandhair.Herdeathresultednotfromafall,butfromablowontheheadwhichfracturedherskull,andtheblowcamefromthelimbofanoverhangingtreeontheparking.1Thelasthourofherlifewastypicalofitshappiness.Shecamefromaday’sworkatschool,toppedoffbyahardgrindwiththecopyontheHighSchoolAnnual,andfeltthataridewouldrefreshher.Sheclimbedintoherkhakis,chatteringtohermotherabouttheworkshewasdoing,andhurriedtogetherhorseandbeoutonthedirtroadsforthecountryairandtheradiantgreenfieldsofthespring.Assherodethroughthetownonaneasygallopshekeptwavingatpassers-by.Shekneweveryoneintown.Foradecadethelittlefigurewiththelongpig-tailandtheredhairribbonhasbeenfamiliaronthestreetsofEmporia,andshegotinthewayofspeakingtothosewhonoddedather.ShepassedtheKerrs,walkingthehorse,infrontoftheNormalLibrary,andwavedatthem;passedanotherfriendafewhundredfeetfurtheron,andwavedather.Thehorsewaswalkingand,assheturnedontoNorthMerchantStreetshetookoffhercowboyhat,andthehorseswungintoalope.ShepassedtheTriplettsandwavedhercowboyhatatthem,stillmovinggailynorthonMerchantStreet.AGazettecarrierpassed—aHighSchoolboyfriend—andshewavedathim,butwithherbridlehand;thehorseveeredquickly,plungedintotheparkingwherethelow-hanginglimbfacedher,and,whileshestilllookedbackwaving,theblowcame.Butshedidnotfallfromthehorse;sheslippedoff,dazedabit,staggeredandfellinafaint.Shenever

14quiterecoveredconsciousness.2Butshedidnotfallfromthehorse,neitherwassheridingfast.Ayearorsoagosheusedtogolikethewind.Butthathabitwasbroken,andsheusedthehorsetogetintotheopentogetfresh,hardexercise,andtoworkoffacertainsurplusenergythatwelledupinherandneededaphysicaloutlet.Thatneedhasbeeninherheartforyears.Itwasbackoftheimpulsethatkeptthedauntless,littlebrown-cladfigureonthestreetsandcountryroadsofthiscommunityandbuiltintoastrong,muscularbodywhathadbeenafrailandsicklyframeduringthefirstyearsofherlife.Buttheridinggavehermorethanabody.Itreleasedagayandhardysoul.Shewasthehappiestthingintheworld.Andshewashappybecauseshewasenlargingherhorizon.Shecametoknowallsortsandconditionsofmen;CharleyO’Brien,thetrafficcop,wasoneofherbestfriends.W.L.Holtz,theLatinteacher,wasanother.TomO’Connor,farmer-politician,andRev.J.H.J.Rice,preacherandpolicejudge,andFrankBeach,musicmaster,wereherspecialfriends,andallthegirls,blackandwhite,abovethetrackandbelowthetrack,inPepvilleandStringtown,wereamongheracquaintances.Andshebroughthomeriotousstoriesofheradventures.Shelovedtorollick;persiflagewashernaturalexpressionathome.Herhumorwasacontinualbubbleofjoy.Sheseemedtothinkinhyperboleandmetaphor.Shewasmischievouswithoutmalice,asfulloffaultsasanoldshoe.NoangelwasMaryWhite,butaneasygirltolivewith,forshenevernursedagrouchfiveminutesinherlife.3Withallhereagernessfortheout-of-doors,shelovedbooks.OnhertablewhensheleftherroomwereabookbyConrad,onebyGalsworthy,“CreativeChemistry”byE.E.Slosson,andaKiplingbeforeshewasten—alloftheirwritings.WellsandArnoldBennettparticularlyamusedanddivertedher.ShewasenteredasastudentinWellesleyin1922;wasassistanteditoroftheHighSchoolAnnualthisyear,andinlineforelectiontotheeditorshipoftheAnnualnextyear.ShewasamemberoftheexecutivecommitteeoftheHighSchoolY.W.C.A.4Withinthelasttwoyearsshehadbeguntobemovedbyanambitiontodraw.Shebeganasmostchildrendobyscribblinginherschoolbooks,funnypictures.Sheboughtcartoonmagazinesandtookacourse—rathercasually,naturally,forshewas,afterall,achildwithnostrongpurposes—andthisyearshetastedthefirstfruitsofsuccessbyhavingherpicturesacceptedbytheHighSchoolAnnual.ButthethrillofdelightshegotwhenMr.Ecord,oftheNormalAnnual,askedhertodothecartooningforthatbookthisspring,wastoobeautifulforwords.Shefelltoherworkwithallherenthusiasticheart.Herdrawingswereaccepted,andherpride—alwaysrepressedbyalivelysenseoftheridiculousnessofthefigureshewascutting—wasareallygorgeousthingtosee.Nosuccessfulartisteverdrankadeeperdraughtofsatisfactionthanshetookfromthelittlefameherworkwasgettingamongherschoolfellows.Inherglory,shealmostforgotherhorse—butneverhercar.5Forsheusedthecarasajitneybus.Itwashersociallife.Sheneverhada“party”inallher

15nearlyseventeenyears—wouldn’thaveone;butsheneverdroveablockinthecarinherlifethatshedidn’tbegintofillthecarwithpick-ups!EverybodyrodewithMaryWhite—Whiteandblack,oldandyoung,richandpoor,menandwomen.Shelikednothingbetterthantofillthecarfulloflong-leggedHighSchoolboysandanoccasionalgirl,andparadethetown.Sheneverhada“date,”norwenttoadance,exceptoncewithherbrother,Bill,andthe“boyproposition”didn’tinteresther—yet.Butyoungpeople—greatspring-breaking,varnish-cracking,fender-bending,door-saggingcarloadsof“kids”gavehergreatpleasure.Herzestswerekeen.Butthemostfunsheeverhadinherlifewasactingaschairmanofthecommitteethatgotupthebigturkeydinnerforthepoorfolksatthecountryhome;scoresofpies,gallonsofslaw;jam,cakes,preserves,orangesandawildernessofturkeywereloadedinthecarandtakentothecountryhome.And,beingofapracticalturnofmind,sheriskedherownChristmasdinnerbystayingtoseethatthepoorfolksactuallygotitall.Notthatshewasacynic;shejustdislikedtotemptfolks.Whilethereshefoundablindcoloreduncle,veryold,whocoulddonothingbutmakeragrugs,andsherustledupfromherschoolfriendsragsenoughtokeephimbusyforaseason.Thelastengagementshetriedtomakewastotaketheguestsatthecountryhomeoutforacarride.AndthelastendeavorofherlifewastotrytogetarestroomforcoloredgirlsintheHighSchool.Shefoundonegirlreadinginthetoilet,becausetherewasnobetterplaceforacoloredgirltoloaf,anditinflamedhersenseofinjusticeandshebecameanaggingharpietothosewho,shethought,couldremedytheevil.Thepoorshehadalwayswithher,andwasgladofit.Shehungeredandthirstedforrighteousness;andwasthemostimpiouscreatureintheworld.ShejoinedtheCongregationalChurchwithoutconsultingherparents;notparticularlyforhersoul’sgood.Sheneverhadathrillofpietyinherlife,andwouldhavehootedata“testimony.”Butevenasalittlechildshefeltthechurchwasanagencyforhelpingpeopletomoreoflife’sabundance,andshewantedtohelp.Sheneverwantedhelpforherself.Clothesmeantlittletoher.Itwasafighttogetanewrigonher;buteventuallyaharderfighttogetitoff.SheneverworeajewelandhadnoringbutherHighSchoolclassring,andneveraskedforanythingbutawristwatch.Sherefusedtohaveherhairup;thoughshewasnearlyseventeen.“Mother,”sheprotested,“youdon’tknowhowmuchIgetbywith,inmybraidedpigtails,thatIcouldnotwithmyhairup.”Aboveeveryotherpassionofherlifewasherpassionnottogrowup,tobeachild.Thetom-boyinher,whichwasbig,seemedtoloathetobeputawayforeverinskirts.ShewasaPeterPan,whorefusedtogrowup.6HerfuneralyesterdayattheCongregationalChurchwasasshewouldhavewishedit;nosinging,noflowerssavethebigbunchofredrosesfromherBrotherBill’sHarvardclassmen—Heavens,howproudthatwouldhavemadeher!andtheredrosesfromtheGazetteforce—invasesatherheadandfeet.Ashortprayer,Paul’sbeautifulessayon“Love”fromtheThirteenthChapterofFirstCorinthians,someremarksaboutherdemocraticspiritbyherfriend,

16JohnH.J.Rice,pastorandpolicejudge,whichshewouldhavedeprecatedifshecould,aprayersentdownforherbyherfriend,CarlNau,andopeningtheservicetheslow,poignantmovementfromBeethoven’sMoonlightSonata,whichsheloved,andclosingtheserviceacuttingfromthejoyouslymelancholyfirstmovementofTschaikowski’sPatheticSymphony,whichshelikedtohearincertainmoodsonthephonograph;thentheLord’sPrayerbyherfriendsintheHighSchool.7Thatwasall.8ForherPall-bearersonlyherfriendswerechosen;herLatinteacher—W.L.Holtz;herHighSchoolprincipal,RiceBrown;herdoctor,FrankFoncannon;herfriend,W.W.Finney;herpalattheGazetteoffice,WalterHughes;andherbrotherBill.Itwouldhavemadehersmiletoknowthatherfriend,CharleyO’Brien,thetrafficcop,hadbeentransferredfromSixthandCommercialtothecornernearthechurchtodirectherfriendswhocametobidhergood-by.9Ariftinthecloudsinagraydaythrewashaftofsunlightuponhercoffinashernervous,energeticlittlebodysanktoitslastsleep.Butthesoulofher,theglowing,gorgeous,ferventsoulofher,surelywasflamingineagerjoyuponsomeotherdawn.

173.NiagaraFallsbyRupertBrookeThepoetusuallyisthebestreporter,forheisanobservernotmerelyaccuratebutimaginative,self-trainedtoseesubtlesuggestions,relationsandsimilarities.ThismagnificentbitofdescriptionwaswrittenbyRupertBrookeasoneoftheletterssenttotheWestminsterGazettedescribinghistripintheUnitedStatesandCanadain1913.ItisincludedinthevolumeLettersfromAmericatowhichHenryJamescontributedsoaffectionateanddesperatelyunintelligibleapreface—oneofthelastthingsJameswrote.Brooke’snotesonAmericaarewellworthreading:theyarefullofdelightfulandlivelycomments,thoughsometimesmuch(oh,verymuch!)toocondescending.Thelastparagraphinthisessayisinterestinginviewofsubsequenthistory. Brookewasbornin1887,sonofamasteratRugbySchool;wasatKing’sCollege,Cambridge;diedofblood-poisoningintheÆgean,April23,1915.SAMUELBUTLERhasalottoanswerfor.Butforhim,amoderntravelercouldspendhistimepeacefullyadmiringthesceneryinsteadoffeelinghimselfboundtodogthesimpleandgrotesqueoftheworldforthesakeoftheirtoo-humancomments.Itishisfaultifapeasant’snaïvetéhascometooutweighthebeautyofrivers,andtheremarksofclergymenaremorethanmountains.Itisveryrestfultogiveupalleffortatobservinghumannatureanddrawingsocialandpoliticaldeductionsfromtrifles,andtoletoneselfrelapseintowide-mouthedworshipofthewondersofnature.AndthisisveryeasyatNiagara.Niagarameansnothing.Itisnotleadinganywhere.Itdoesnotresultfromanything.ItthrowsnolightontheeffectsofProtection,norontheFacilityforDivorceinAmerica,noronCorruptioninPublicLife,noronCanadiancharacter,norevenontheNavyBill.Itismerelyagreatdealofwaterfallingoversomecliffs.Butitisveryremarkablythat.Thehumanrace,aptasachildtodestroywhatitadmires,hasdoneitsbesttosurroundtheFallswitheverydistraction,incongruity,andvulgarity.Hotels,powerhouses,bridges,trams,picturepost-cards,shamlegends,stalls,booths,rifle-galleries,andside-showsframethemabout.AndthereareTouts.Niagaraisthecentralhomeandbreeding-placeforallthetoutsofearth.Therearetoutsinsinuating,andtoutsraucous,greasytouts,brazentouts,andupper-class,refined,gentlemanly,take-you-by-the-arm-touts;toutswhointimidateandtoutswhowheedle;professionals,amateurs,anddilettanti,maleandfemale;toutswhowouldphotographyouwithyourarmroundayoungladyagainstafakedbackgroundofthesublimestcataract,toutswhowouldbullyyouintocars,char-à-bancs,elevators,ortunnels,ordeceiveyouintoacarriageandpair,toutswhowouldsellyoupicturepost-cards,moccasins,shamIndianbeadwork,blankets,tee-pees,andcrockery,andtouts,finally,whohavenoapparentobjectintheworld,butjustpurely,simply,merely,incessantly,indefatigably,andineffugiblytotout.Andinthemidstofallthis,overwhelmingitall,aretheFalls.Hewhoseestheminstantlyforgetshumanity.Theyarenotveryhigh,buttheyareoverpowering.Theyaredividedbyanislandintotwoparts,theCanadian

18andtheAmerican.1HalfamileorsoabovetheFalls,oneitherside,thewaterofthegreatstreambeginstorunmoreswiftlyandinconfusion.Itdescendswithever-growingspeed.Itbeginschatteringandleaping,breakingintoathousandripples,throwingupjoyfulfingersofspray.Sometimesitisdividedbyislandsandrocks,sometimestheeyecanseenothingbutawasteoflaughing,springing,foamywaves,turning,crossing,evenseemingtostandforaninstanterect,butalwaysborneimpetuouslyforwardlikeacrowdoftriumphantfeasters.Sitclosedownbyit,andyouseeafragmentofthetorrentagainstthesky,mottled,steely,andfoaming,leapingonwardinfar-flungcriss-crossstrandsofwater.Perpetuallytheeyeisonthepointofdescryingapatterninthisweaving,andperpetuallyitischeatedbychange.Inoneplacepartofthefloodplungesoveraledgeafewfeethighandaquarterofamileorsolong,inauniformandstablecurve.Itgivesanimpressionofalmostmilitaryconcertedmovement,grownsuddenlyoutofconfusion.Butitisswiftlylostagaininthemultitudinoustossingmerriment.Hereandtherearockclosetothesurfaceismarkedbyawhitewavethatfacesbackwardsandseemstoberushingmadlyup-stream,butisreallystationaryintheheadlongcharge.Butforthesesignsofreluctance,thewatersseemtoflingthemselvesonwithsomeforeknowledgeoftheirfate,inaneverwilderfrenzy.ButitisnoMaeterlinckianprescience.Theyprove,rather,thatGreekbeliefthatthegreatcrashesareprecededbyaloudermerrimentandawildergaiety.Leapinginthesunlight,careless,entwining,clamorouslyjoyful,thewavesriotontowardstheverge.2Buttheretheychange.Astheyturntothesheerdescent,thewhiteandblueandslatecolor,intheheartoftheCanadianFallsatleast,blendanddeepentoarich,wonderful,luminousgreen.Ontheedgeofdisastertheriverseemstogatherherself,topause,toliftaheadnobleinruin,andthen,withaslowgrandeur,toplungeintotheeternalthunderandwhitechaosbelow.Wherethestreamrunsshalloweritisakindofvioletcolor,butbothvioletandgreenfrayandfrilltowhiteastheyfall.Themassofwater,strikingsomeever-hiddenbaseofrock,leapsupthewholetwohundredfeetagaininpinnaclesanddomesofspray.Thesprayfallsbackintothelowerriveroncemore;allbutalittlethatfinestofoamandwhitemist,whichdriftsinlayersalongtheair,grainingit,andwandersoutonthewindoverthetreesandgardensandhouses,andsovanishes.3Themanagerofoneofthegreatpower-stationsonthebanksoftheriverabovetheFallstoldmethatthecenteroftheriverbedattheCanadianFallsisdeepandofasaucershape.Soitmaybepossibletofillthisuptoauniformdepth,anddivertalotofwaterforthepower-houses.Andthis,hesaid,wouldsupplytheneedformorepower,whichwillcertainlysoonarise,withouttakingawayfromthebeautyofNiagara.Thisisahandsomeconcessionoftheutilitarianstoordinarysight-seers.Yet,Idoubtifweshallbesatisfied.TherealsecretofthebeautyandterroroftheFallsisnottheirheightorwidth,butthefeelingofcolossalpowerandofunintelligibledisastercausedbytheplungeofthatvastbodyofwater.Ifthatweretakenaway,therewouldbelittle

19visiblechange,buttheheartwouldbegone.4TheAmericanFallsdonotinspirethisfeelinginthesamewayastheCanadian.Itisbecausetheyarelessinvolume,andbecausethewaterdoesnotfallsomuchintooneplace.Bycomparisontheirbeautyisalmostdelicateandfragile.Theyareextraordinarilylevel,onelongcurtainoflaceworkandwovenfoam.Seenfromopposite,whenthesunisonthem,theyareblindinglywhite,andthecloudsofsprayshowdarkagainstthem.WithbothFallsthecolorofthewateristheever-alteringwonder.Greensandblues,purplesandwhites,meltintooneanother,fade,andcomeagain,andchangewiththechangingsun.Sometimestheyareasrichlydiaphanousasapreciousstone,andglowfromwithinwithadeep,inexplicablelight.Sometimesthewhiteintricaciesofdroppingfoambecomeopaqueandcreamy.Andalwaystherearetherainbows.IfyoucomesuddenlyupontheFallsfromabove,agreatdoublerainbow,veryvivid,spanningtheextentofsprayfromtoptobottom,isthefirstthingyousee.Ifyouwanderalongthecliffopposite,abowspringsintobeingintheAmericanFalls,accompaniesyoucourteouslyonyourwalk,dwindlesanddiesasthemistends,andawakensagainasyoureachtheCanadiantumult.AndtheboldtravelerwhoattemptsthetripundertheAmericanFallssees,whenhedareopenhiseyestoanything,tinybabyrainbows,somefourorfiveyardsinspan,leapingfromrocktorockamongthefoam,andgambolingbesidehim,barelyoutofhand’sreach,ashegoes.OneIsawinthatplacewasacompletecircle,suchasIhaveneverseenbefore,andsonearthatIcouldputmyfootonit.Itisaterrifyingjourney,beneathandbehindtheFalls.Thesensesarebatteredandbewilderedbythethunderofthewaterandtheassaultofwindandspray;orrather,thesoundisnotoffallingwater,butmerelyoffalling;anoiseofunspecifiedruin.So,ifyouareclosebehindtheendlessclamor,thesightcannotrecognizeliquidinthemassesthathurlpast.Youaredimlyandpitifullyawarethatsheetsoflightanddarknessarefallingingreatcurvesinfrontofyou.Dullomnipresentfoamwashestheface.Fartheraway,intheroarandhissing,cloudsofsprayseemliterallytoslidedownsomeinvisibleplaneofair.5BeyondthefootoftheFallstheriverislikeaslippingfloorofmarble,greenwithveinsofdirtywhite,madebythescumthatwasfoam.Itslidesveryquietlyandslowlydownforamileortwo,sullenlyexhausted.Thenitturnstoadullsagegreen,andhurriesmoreswiftly,smoothandominous.Asthewallsoftheravineclosein,troublestirs,andthewatersboilandeddy.Thesearethelowerrapids,asightmoreterrifyingthantheFalls,becauselessintelligible.Closeinitsbandsofrocktheriversurgestumultuouslyforward,writhingandleapingasifinspiredbyademon.Itispressedbythestraitsintoavisiblyconvexform.Greatplanesofwaterslidepast.Sometimesitisthrownupintoapinnacleoffoamhigherthanahouse,orleapswithincrediblespeedfromthecrestofonevastwavetoanother,alongtheshiningcurvebetween,likethespringofawildbeast.Itsmotioncontinuallysuggestsmuscularaction.ThepowermanifestintheserapidsmovesonewithadifferentsenseofaweandterrorfromthatoftheFalls.Heretheinhumanlifeandstrength

20arespontaneous,active,almostresolute;masculinevigorcomparedwiththepassivegiganticpower,female,helplessandoverwhelming,oftheFalls.Aplaceoffear.6Oneisdrawnback,strangely,toacontemplationoftheFalls,ateveryhour,andespeciallybynight,whenthecloudofspraybecomesanimmensevisibleghost,strainingandwaveringhighabovetheriver,whiteandpatheticandtranslucent.TheVictorianliesveryclosebelowthesurfaceineveryman.Thereonecansitandletgreatcloudythoughtsofdestinyandthepassageofempiresdriftthroughthemind;forsuchdreamsareathomebyNiagara.Icouldnotgetoutofmymindthethoughtofafriend,whosaidthattherainbowsovertheFallswereliketheartsandbeautyandgoodness,withregardtothestreamoflife—causedbyit,thrownuponitsspray,butunabletostayordirectoraffectit,andceasingwhenitceased.Inallcomparisonsthatriseintheheart,theriver,withitsmultitudinouswavesanditssinglecurrent,likensitselftoalife,whetherofanindividualorofacommunity.Aman’slifeismanyflashingmoments,andyetonestream;anation’sflowsthroughallitscitizens,andyetismorethanthey.Insuchplaces,oneisaware,withanalmostinsupportableandyetcomfortingcertitude,thatbothmenandnationsarehurriedonwardstotheirruinorendingasinevitablyasthisdarkflood.Somegodowntoitunreluctant,andmeetit,liketheriver,notwithoutnobility.Andasincessant,asinevitable,andasunavailingasthespraythathangsovertheFalls,isthewhitecloudofhumancrying.…WithsomesuchthoughtsdoestheplatitudinousheartwinfromtheconfusionandthunderofaNiagarapeacethatthequietestplainsormoststablehillscannevergive.

214.TheAlmostPerfectStatebyDonMarquisDonMarquisisarealname,notapseudonym;itispronouncedMarkwiss,notMarkee.IreprintheretwoofMr.Marquis’samiablemeditationsonthe“AlmostPerfectState,”whichhaveappearedinthecolumn(TheSunDial)conductedbyhimfortenyearsintheNewYorkSun.Accordingtothetraditionalmottoofsun-dials,Mr.Marquis’shorologeusuallynumbersonlytheserenehours;butsometimes,whentheclearmoonlightofhisMuseisshining,itcastsdarkerandevenmorepreciousshadowsofsatireandmysticism.Hismanyreadersknowbythistimethedepthandreachofhisfunandfancy.Marquisisatruephilosopherandwit,hishumoradornsarichandmellowgravity.Whenstronglymovedhesometimesuttersanepigramthatringslikesteelleavingthescabbard.TherearemanythingstobesaidagainstAmericannewspapers,butmuchoftheindictmentisquashedwhenoneconsidersthateverynowandthentheydevelopawriterlikeDonMarquis.Theviolenthaste,pressureandinstanceofnewspaperroutine,purgatorialtosometemperaments,isagenuinestimulustoothers—particularlyiftheyareable,asinthecaseofthecolumnist,tofallbackuponoutsidecontributorsintheirintervalsofpessimismorsloth.Mr.Marquis’sTheOldSoak,apost-prohibitionportraitofagenialoldtippler,isperhapsthemostvitalbitofAmericanhumorsinceMr.Dooley—somesaysinceMarkTwain.HisPrefacesandhispoemswillalsobeconsideredbythejudicious.HewasborninIllinoisin1878,anddidnewspaperworkinPhiladelphiaandAtlantabeforecomingtotheSunin1912.INOmatterhownearlyperfectanAlmostPerfectStatemaybe,itisnotnearlyenoughperfectunlesstheindividualswhocomposeitcan,somewherebetweendeathandbirth,haveaperfectlycorkingtimeforafewyears.Themostwonderfulgovernmentalsystemintheworlddoesnotattractus,asasystem;weareafterasystemthatscarcelyknowsitisasystem;thegreatthingistohavethelargestnumberofindividualsashappyasmaybe,foralittlewhileatleast,sometimebeforetheydie.1Infancyisnotwhatitiscrackeduptobe.Thechildseemshappyallthetimetotheadult,becausetheadultknowsthatthechildisuntouchedbytherealproblemsoflife;iftheadultweresimilarlyuntouchedheissurethathewouldbehappy.Butchildren,notknowingthattheyarehavinganeasytime,haveagoodmanyhardtimes.Growingandlearningandobeyingtherulesoftheirelders,offightingagainstthem,arenoteasythingstodo.Adolescenceiscertainlyfarfromauniformlypleasantperiod.Earlymanhoodmightbethemostglorioustimeofallwereitnotthatthesheerexcessoflifeandvigorgetsafellowintocontinualscrapes.Ofmiddleagethebestthatcanbesaidisthatamiddleagedpersonhaslikelylearnedhowtohavealittlefuninspiteofhistroubles.2

22Itistooldagethatwelookforreimbursement,themostofus.Andmostofuslookinvain.Forthemostofushavebeenwrenchedandracked,inonewayoranother,untiloldageisthemosttryingtimeofall.3IntheAlmostPerfectStateeverypersonshallhaveatleasttenyearsbeforehediesofeasy,carefree,happyliving…thingswillbesoarrangedeconomicallythatthiswillbepossibleforeachindividual.4Personallywelookforwardtoanoldageofdissipationandindolenceandunreverenddisrepute.Infiftyyearsweshallbeninety-twoyearsold.Weintendtoworkratherhardduringthosefiftyyearsandaccumulateenoughtoliveonwithoutworkinganymoreforthenexttenyears,forwehavedeterminedtodieattheageofonehundredtwo.5Duringthelasttenyearsweshallindulgeourselfinmanythingsthatwehavebeenforcedbycircumstancestoforego.Wehavealwaysbeencompelled,andweshallbecompelledformanyyearstocome,tobeprudent,cautious,staid,sober,conservative,industrious,respectfulofestablishedinstitutions,amodelcitizen.Wehavenotlikedit,butwehavebeenunabletoescapeit.Ourmind,ourlogicalfaculties,ourobservation,informusthattheconservativeshavetherightsideoftheargumentinallhumanaffairs.Butthepeoplewhomwereallypreferasassociates,thoughwedonotapprovetheirideas,aretherebels,theradicals,thewastrels,thevicious,thepoets,theBolshevists,theidealists,thenuts,theLucifers,theagreeablegood-for-nothings,thesentimentalists,theprophets,thefreaks.Wehaveneverdaredtoknowanyofthem,farlessbecomeintimatewiththem.6Betweentheyearsofninety-twoandahundredandtwo,however,weshallbetheribald,useless,drunkenoutcastpersonwehavealwayswishedtobe.Weshallhavealongwhitebeardandlongwhitehair;weshallnotwalkatall,butreclineinawheelchairandbellowforalcoholicbeverages;inthewinterweshallsitbeforethefirewithourfeetinabucketofhotwater,withadecanterofcornwhiskeynearathand,andwriteribaldsongsagainstorganizedsociety;strappedtoonearmofourchairwillbeaforty-fivecaliberrevolver,andweshallshootoutthelightswhenwewanttogotosleep,insteadofturningthemoff;whenwewantairweshallthrowasilvercandlestickthroughthefrontwindowandbedamnedtoit;weshalladdresspublicmeetingstowhichwehavebeeninvitedbecauseofourwisdominaveinofjocundmalice.Weshall…butwedon’twishtomakeanyoneenviousofthegoodtimethatiscomingtous…welookforwardtoadisreputable,vigorous,unhonoredanddisorderlyoldage.7(Inthemeantime,ofcourse,youunderstandyoucan’thaveuspinchedanddeportedforouryearnings.)8WeshallknowthattheAlmostPerfectStateisherewhenthekindofoldageeachpersonwantsispossibletohim.Ofcourse,allofyoumaynotwantthekindwewant…someofyoumaypreferprunesandmoralitytothebitterend.Someofyoumaybedissolutenowandmay

23lookforwardtobecominglikeoneoftheniceoldfellowsinaWordsworthpoem.Butforourpartwehavealwaysbeenahypocriteandweshallhavetocontinuebeingahypocriteforagoodmanyyearsyet,andweyearntocomeoutinourtruecolorsatlast.Thepointis,thatnomatterwhatyouwanttobe,duringthoselasttenyears,thatyoumaybe,intheAlmostPerfectState.9Anysystemofgovernmentunderwhichtheindividualdoesallthesacrificingforthesakeofthegeneralgood,forthesakeofthecommunity,theState,getsoffonitswrongfoot.Wedon’twantthingsthatcostustoomuch.Wedon’twanttoomuchstrainallthetime.10Thebestgoodthatyoucanpossiblyachieveisnotgoodenoughifyouhavetostrainyourselfallthetimetoreachit.Athingisonlyworthdoing,anddoingagainandagain,ifyoucandoitrathereasily,andgetsomejoyoutofit.11Dothebestyoucan,withoutstrainingyourselftoomuchandtoocontinuously,andleavetheresttoGod.Ifyoustrainyourselftoomuchyou’llhavetoaskGodtopatchyouup.Andforallyouknow,patchingyouupmaytaketimethatitwasplannedtousesomeotherway.12BUT…overstrainyourselfnowandthen.Forthisreason:Thethingsyoucreateeasilyandjoyouslywillnotcontinuetocomeeasilyandjoyouslyunlessyouyourselfaregettingbiggerallthetime.Andwhenyouoverstrainyourselfyouareassistinginthecreationofanewself—ifyougetwhatwemean.Andifyoushouldaskussuddenlyjustwhatthishastodowiththepictureoftheoldguyinthewheelchairweshouldanswer:Hangedifweknow,butweseemedtosorto’runintoit,somehow.13IIInterplanetarycommunicationisoneofthepersistentdreamsoftheinhabitantsofthisoblatespheroidonwhichwemove,breatheandsufferforlackofbeer.ThereseemstobeafeelinginmanyquartersthatifwecouldgetspeechwiththeMartians,letussay,wemightlearnfromthemsomethingtoouradvantage.ThereisadispositiontoconcedethesuperiorityofthefellowsOutThere…justassomeAmericanscapitulatewithoutastruggletopoetsfromEngland,rugsfromConstantinople,songandsausagefromGermany,religiousenthusiastsfromHindustanandcheesefromSwitzerland,althoughtheyhavenottestedthegoodsofferedandreallylackthediscriminationtodeterminetheirquality.AlmosttheonlyforeignimportationsthatwereeversneezedatinthiscountrywereSwedishmatchesandSpanishinfluenza.14ButaretheMartians…ifMartianstherebe…anymorecapablethanthepersonsdwellingbetweentheWoolworthBuildingandtheGoldenHorn,betweenShweDagonandtheFirstChurch,Scientist,inBoston,Mass.?PerhapstheMartiansyearntowardearth,romantically,poetically,theRomeosswearingbyitslighttotheJuliets;theidealistsandphilosophersfablingthatalreadythereexistsuponitanALMOSTPERFECTSTATE—andnowandthenawanprophetliftinghishearttoitsgleams,asacuptobefilledfromHeavenwithfreshwatersofhopeandcourage.Forthisearth,itisalsoastar.15

24Weknowtheyarewrongaboutus,theloversinthefarstars,thephilosophers,poets,theprophets…oraretheywrong?16Theyarebothrightandwrong,asweareprobablybothrightandwrongaboutthem.IfwetumbledintoMarsorArcturusofSiriusthiseveningweshouldfindthepeopletherediscussingtheshimmy,thejazz,theinconstancyofcooksandtheiniquityofretailbutchers,nodoubt…andtheywouldbeequallydisappointedbythewayweflitter,frivol,flutterandflivver.17Andyet,thatotherthingwouldbetheretoo…thatthingthatmadethemlookatourstarasasymbolofgraceandbeauty.18MencouldnotthinkofTHEALMOSTPERFECTSTATEiftheydidnothaveitinthemultimatelytocreateTHEALMOSTPERFECTSTATE.19WeusedsometimestowalkovertheBrooklynBridge,thatsonginstoneandsteelofanengineerwhowasalsoagreatartist,atdusk,whenthetidesofshadowfloodinfromthelowerbaytobreakinasurfofgloryandmysteryandillusionagainstthetalltowersofManhattan.Seenfromthemiddlearchofthebridgeattwilight,NewYorkwithitsgirdleofshiftingwatersanditsdriftofpurplecloudanditsquickpulsationsofunstablelightisamiracleofsplendorandbeautythatlightsuptheheartlikethelaughterofagod.20But,descend.Godownintothecity.Minglewiththedetails.Thedirtyoldshedfromwhichthe“L”trainsandtrolleysputoutwiththeirjammedandmangledthousandsforflattestFlatbushandtheunknownbourneofulteriorBrooklynisstillthesamedirtyoldshed;onahot,dampnightthepastystreetsstinklikeapaperhanger’soveralls;youaretroddenandover-riddenbygreasylittleprofiteersandtheirhoppingvictims;youareencompassedroundaboutbytheuglyandthesordid,andtheobjectionableisexudeduponyoufromamyriadcandidpores;yourelationandyourillusionvanishlikeingenuoussnowflakesthathavekissedahotdogsandwichonitsfierybrow,andyousay:“Beauty?Aw,h—l!What’stheuse?”21Andyetyouhaveseenbeauty.Andbeautythatwascreatedbythesepeopleandpeoplelikethese.…YouhaveseenthetalltowersofManhattan,wonderfulunderthestars.Howdiditcomeaboutthatsuchgrowthscamefromsuchsoil—thatabreedlawlessandsordidandprosaichaswrittensuchamightyhieroglyphicagainstthesky?Thisglamoroutofapigsty…howcome?Howisitthatthishideous,half-brutecityisalsobeautifulandafithabitationfordemi-gods?Howcome?22Itcomesaboutbecausethewiseandsubtledeitiespermitnothingworthytobelost.Itwaswithnothoughtofbeautythatthebuilderslabored;noconsciousthought;theyweremastersorslavesinthebitterwarsofcommerce,andtheyneversawasawholewhattheyweremaking;nooneofthemdid.Buteachonehadhadhisdream.Andthebaffleddreamsandthebrokenvisionsandtheruinedhopesandthesecretdesiresofeachonelaboredwithhimashelabored;thethingsthatwerelostandbeatenandtrampleddownwentintothestoneandsteelandgaveitsoul;the

25aspirationdeniedandthehopeabandonedandthevisiondefeatedwerethethingsthatlived,andnottheapparentpurposeforwhicheachoneofallthemillionssweatandtoiledorcheated;thehiddenthings,thesilentthings,thewingedthings,soweaktheyareeasilykilled,theunacknowledgedthings,therejectedbeauty,thestrangledappreciation,theinchoateart,thesubmergedspirit—thesegropedandfoundeachotherandgatheredthemselvestogetherandworkedthemselvesintothetilesandmortaroftheedificeandmadeatownthatisaworthyfellowofthesunriseandtheseawinds.23Humanitytriumphsoveritsdetails.24Theindividualaspirationisalwaysdefeatedofitsperfectfruitionandexpression,butitisneverlost;itpassesintotheconglomeratebeingoftherace.25Thewaytoencourageyourselfaboutthehumanraceistolookatitfirstfromadistance;lookatthelightsonthehighspots.Comingcloser,youwillbeprofoundlydiscouragedatthenumberoflowspots,nottosaytwo-spots.Comingstillcloser,youwillbecomediscouragedoncemorebythereflectionthatthesamestuffthatisinthehighspotsisalsointhetwo-spots.26

265.“TheMan-o’-War’s’Er’Usband”byDavidW.BoneThosewhounderstandsomethingofasailor’sfeelingforhisshipwillappreciatetherestraintwithwhichCaptainBonedescribesthelossoftheCameronia,hiscommand,torpedoedintheMediterraneanduringtheWar.Youwillnotice(forgiveusforpointingoutthesethings)howquietlythequotedtitlepaystributetothegallantryofthedestroyersthatstoodbythesinkingship;andtheheroismofthechiefofficer’sdeathisnotlessmovingbecausetoldintwosentences.ThissuperbpictureofaseatragedyistakenfromMerchantmen-at-Arms,ahistoryoftheBritishMerchants’ServiceduringtheWar;abookofenthrallingpowerandtruth,illustratedbytheauthor’sbrother,MuirheadBone,oneofthegreatestoflivingetchers.DavidWilliamBonewasborninPatrick(nearGlasgow)in1873;hisfatherwasawell-knownGlasgowjournalist;hisgreat-grandfatherwasaboyhoodcompanionofRobertBurns.BonewenttoseaasanapprenticeintheCityofFlorence,anold-timesquare-rigger,attheageoffifteen;hehasbeenatseaeversince.HeisnowmasterofS.S.ColumbiaoftheAnchorLine,awell-knownshipinNewYorkHarbor,asshehascarriedpassengersbetweentheClydeandtheHudsonformorethantwentyyears.CaptainBone’sfineseatale,TheBrassbounder,publishedin1910,hasbecomeaclassicofthesquaresailera;hisBrokenStowage(1915)isacollectionofshorterseasketches.Inthelongrollofgreatwriterswhohavereflectedthesimplicityandseverityofsealife,CaptainBonewilltakeapermanentandhonorableplace.ASENSEofsecurityisdifficultofdefinition.Largely,itisfoundeduponhabitandassociation.Itisinducedandmaintainedbyfamiliarsurroundings.Onboardship,inasmallworldofourown,weseemtobecontainedbytheboundariesofthebulwarks,tobesailingbeyondtheinfluencesofthelandandofotherships.Theseaisthesamewehaveknownforsolong.Everyitemofourshipfitment—thetrimarrangementofthedecks,thesetandrakeofmastandfunnel,eventhefurnishingsofourcabins—hasthepowerofimpressingastablefeelingofcustom,normalshiplife,safety.Itrequiresaneffortofthoughttorecallthatintheirhomelypresenceweareendangered.Relatinghisexperiencesafterhavingbeenminedandhisshipsunk,amasterconfidedthatthepointthatimpressedhimmostdeeplywaswhenhewenttohisroomfortheconfidentialpapersandsawthecabinexactlyineverydayaspect—hislongshoreclothessuspendedfromthehooks,hisumbrellastandinginacornerashehadplaceditoncomingaboard.1Soldiersonservicearedeniedthisaidtoassurance.Unlikeus,theycannotcarrytheirhomewiththemtothebattlefields.Alltheirscenesandsurroundingsarenovel;theymayonlydrawarelianceandcomfortfromthefamiliarpresenceoftheircomrades.Atseainashipthereisayetgreaterincitementtotheirdisquiet.Themovement,thelimitlesssea,thedistancefromtheland,

27cannotbeignored.Theatmospherethatissofamiliarandcomfortingtous,istomanyofthemanenvironmentofdreadpossibilities.2Itiswithsomesmallmeasureofthissenseofsecurity—temperedbyourknowledgeofenemyactivityinthesewaters—wepacethebridge.Anxietyisnotwhollyabsent.Somehourspast,wesawsmallflotsamthatmayhavecomefromthedecksofaFrenchmailsteamer,torpedoedthreedaysago.Thepassingofthederelictfittingsarousedsomedisquiet,butthesteadyroutineofourprogressandtheconstantfriendlypresenceoffamiliarsurroundingshaseffectinallayingimmediatefears.Theroundsofthebridgegoon—thewritingofthelog,thetappingoftheglass,thesmallmeasuresthatmarkthepassingofoursea-hours.TwodaysoutfromMarseilles—andallwell!InanothertwodaysweshouldbeapproachingtheCanal,andthen—tobeclearof‘submarinewaters’foraterm.Fineweather!Alightwindandseaaccompanyusforthepresent,butthefilmyglareofthesun,nowlow,andabackwardmovementoftheglassforetellsabreakerelong.Wearesteamingathighspeedtomakethemostofthesmoothsea.Ahead,oneachbow,ourtwoescortingdestroyersconformtotheanglesofourzigzag—spurringoutandswervingwiththepeculiar“thrown-around”movementoftheirclass.Look-outisalertandinnumbers.Addedtothewatchoftheship’screw,militarysignalersareposted;theboatsswungoutboardhaveeachapartyoftroopsonguard.3Analarmedcryfromaloft—ahalf-utteredordertothesteersman—anexplosion,lowdowninthebowelsoftheship,thatsetsherreelinginherstride!4Theupthrowcomesswiftlyonthemomentofimpact.Hatches,coal,ahugecolumnofsolidwatergoskywardinahurtlingmasstofallintorrentonthebridge.Partofahumanbodystrikestheawningsparsandhangs—watch-keepersarebornetothedeckbytheweightofwater—thesteersmanfallslimplyoverthewheelwithbloodpouringfromagashonhisforehead.…Thensilenceforastunnedhalf-minute,withonlythethrustoftheenginesmarkingtheheartbeatsofthestrickenship.5Uproar!Mostofourmenareyoungrecruits:theyhavebeenbuttwodaysonthesea.Thetorpedohasgonehardhomeattheveryweakesthourofourcalculateddrill.Thetroopsareattheireveningmealwhentheblowcomes,theexplosionkillingmanyoutright.Wehadcountedonaproportionofthetroopsbeingonthedeck,asteadyingnumbertobalancethesuddenrushfrombelowthatweforesawinemergency.Hurryingfromthemess-decksasenjoined,thequickmovementgatherswayandintensity:thedecksbecomejammedbythepressure,thegangwaysandpassagesareblockedinthestruggle.Thereisthemakingofapanic—tunedbytheiroutcry,“God!OGod!OChrist!”Theswellingmurmurisneitherexcitednoragonized—ratherthedull,hopelessexpressionofdespair.6Theofficercommandingtroopshascomeonthebridgeatthefirstalarm.Hisjuniorshaveopportunitytotaketheirstationsbeforethestrugglingmassreachestotheboats.The

28impossibilityofgettingamongthemenonthelowerdecksmakesthemilitaryofficers’effortstorestoreconfidencedifficult.Theyareaidedfromanunexpectedquarter.Thebridge-boymakesunofficialuseofourmegaphone.“Hey!Steadyupyoumendoontherr,”heshouts.“Ye’llno’daeonyguidfuryerselscroodin’th’ledders!”7Wecouldnothavedoneitaswell.Theladisplainlyinsighttothecrowdonthedecks.Asmallboy,undersized.“Steadyupdoontherr!”Theeffectisinstant.Noisetherestillis,butthemovementisarrested.8Theenginesarestopped—wearenowbeyondrangeofasecondtorpedo—andsteamthundersinexhaust,makingoureffortstocontrolmovementsbyvoiceimpossible.Atthemomentoftheimpactthedestroyershaveswungroundandarecastinghereandtherelikehoundsonthescent:thedullexplosionofadepth-charge—thenanother,rousesafiercehopethatwearenotunavenged.Theforceoftheexplosionhasbrokenconnectionstothewirelessroom,buttheaerialstillholdsand,whenameasureoforderontheboatdeckallows,wesendamessageofourperilbroadcast.Thereisnodoubtinourmindsoftheoutcome.Ourbows,droopingvisibly,tellthatweshallnotfloatlong.Wehavenearlythreethousandonboard.Thereareboatsforsixteenhundred—thenrafts.Boats—rafts—andtheglassisfallingataratethatshowsbadweatheroverthewesternhorizon!9Ourdrill,thatprovidedforloweringtheboatswithonlyhalf-complementsinthem,willnotserve.Wepassorderstolowerawayinanycondition,howeverovercrowded.Thewayisofftheship,anditiswithsomeapprehensionwewatchthepackedboatsthatdropawayfromthedavitheads.Theshrillringoftheblock-sheavesindicatesatensionthatisnotfarfrombreaking-point.Manyofthelife-boatsreachthewatersafelywiththeirheavyburdens,butthestrainonthetackles—farbeyondtheirworkingload—istoogreatforalltostandtoit.Twoboatsgodownbytherun.Themeninthemarethrownviolentlytothewater,wheretheyfloatinthewashandshatteredplanking.Athirddanglesfromtheafterfall,havingshothermanningoutatpartingoftheforwardtackle.Loweredbythestern,therights,disengages,anddriftsaftwiththemenclingingtothelife-lines.Wecanmakenoattempttoreachthemeninthewater.Theirlife-beltsaresufficienttokeepthemafloat:theshipisgoingdownrapidlybythehead,andthereremainsthesecondlineofboatstobehoistedandswungover.Thechiefofficer,pausinginhisquickwork,lookstothebridgeinquiringly,asthoughtoask,“Howlong?”Thefingersoftwohandssufficetomarkourestimate.10Thedecksarenowangledtothedeepeningpitchofthebows.Pumpsareutterlyinadequatetomakeimpressionontheswiftinflow.Thechiefengineercomestothebridgewithahopelessreport.Itisonlyaquestionoftime.Howlong?Alreadythewaterislappingataleveloftheforedeck.Troopsmassedthereandontheforecastle-headareapprehensive:itisindeedawonderthattheirofficershaveheldthemforsolong.Thecommandingofficersetsexamplebyacool

29nonchalancethatweenvy.Postedwithusonthebridge,hisquickeyesnotethefloodsurginginthepent’tween-decksbelow,fromwhichhismenhaveremovedthefewwounded.Thedeadarelefttothesea.11Helpcomesaswehadexpecteditwould.LeavingNemesistosteamfastcirclesroundthesinkingship,Riflemanswingsinandbringsupalongsideattheforwardend.Eveninourfearandanxietyanddistress,wecannotbutadmiretheprecisionofthedestroyercaptain’smanœuver—theskilfulavoidanceofourcrowdedlife-boatsandthemeninthewater—thesuddenstoppageofherwayandthecantthatbringshertoastandstillatthelipofourbrimmingdecks.Thetroopswhohavestoodsowelltoordershavetheirrewardinaneasyleaptosafety.Quicklytheforedeckiscleared.Riflemanspurtsaheadinarushthatsetsthesurroundinglife-boatstoeddyinherwash.Shetakesupthecirclinghighspeedpatrolandallowshersistershiptoswinginandembarkanumberofourmen.12Itiswhenthemostofthelife-boatsaregonewerealizefullythegallantserviceofthedestroyers.Thereremaintherafts,butmanyofthesehavebeenlaunchedovertoaidthestrugglingmeninthewater.Halfanhourhaspassedsincewewerestruck—thirtyminutesoffranticendeavortodebarkourmen—yetstillthedecksarethrongedbyapackedmassthatseemsbutlittlereduced.Thecomingofthedestroyersalterstheoutlook.Rifleman’sactionhastakenoversixhundred.A’sensibleclearance!Nemesisswingsinwiththeprecisionofanexpress,andthethudandclatterofthetroopsjumpingtoherdecksetsupacontinuousdrummingnoteofdeliverance.Alertandconfident,thenavalmenacceptthegreatrisksoftheirposition.Theship’sbowsareenteredtothewateratasteepincline.Everyminutethebalanceisweighing,castinghersternhighintheair.Thebulkheadsarebynowtakingplaceofkeelandbearingthehugeweightofheronthewater.Atanymomentshemaygowithoutawarning,tocrashintothelighthullofthedestroyerandbearherdown.Forallthecirclingwatchofhersistership,thesubmarine—ifstillhelives—maygetinashotatthestandingtarget.Itiswithadeepreliefwesignalthecaptaintobearoff.Herdecksarejammedtothelimit.Shecancarrynomore.Nemesislistsheavilyunderherburdeneddecksasshegoesaheadandclears.13Fortyminutes!Thezigzagclockinthewheelhousegoesonringingtheanglesoftimeandcourseasthoughwewereyetunderhelmandspeed.Forashorttermwehavenotedthattheshipappearstohavereachedapointofarrestinherfounderingdroop.Sheremainsuprightasshehasbeensincerightingherselfafterthefirstinrushofwater.Liketheladyshealwayswas,shehasaddednofearsomelisttothesumofourdistress.Thefamiliarbridge,onwhichsomanyofoursafesea-dayshavebeenspent,iscantedatananglethatmakesfootholduneasy.Shecannotremainforlongafloat.Theendwillcomeswiftly,withoutwarning—asuddenruptureofthebulkheadthatissustainingherweight.Wearenotnowmanyleftonboard.Strivingandwrenchingtoman-handletheonlyremainingboat—renderedidleforwantofthetacklesthathave

30partedonserviceofitstwin—wesucceedinpointingheroutboard,andawaitafurtherdeepeningofthebowserelaunchingher.Ofthemilitary,theofficercommanding,somefewofhisjuniors,agroupofotherranks,standby.Theseniorofficersoftheship,amusterofseamen,afewstewards,arebandedwithusatthelast.Weexpectnofurtherserviceofthedestroyers.Thepositionoftheshipisover-menacingtoanyapproach.Theyhavealltheycancarry.Steamingatashortdistancetheyhavetheappearanceofbeingheavilyoverloaded;eachhasstaggeringlistandlieslowinthewaterundertheirdeckencumbrance.Wehaveonlythehazardofaquickout-throwoftheremainingboatandthechancesofagriponfloatingwreckagetocountupon.14Onasuddenswiftsheer,Riflemantakestherisk.Unheedingourwarninghail,shesteamsacrossthebowsandbacksatahighspeed:herroundedsternjarsonourhullplates,awhalerandthedavitscatchonaprojectionandgivewiththeringofbucklingsteel—sheturnsonthethrowofthepropellersandclosesaboardwitharesoundingimpactthatsetsherlivingdeck-loadtostagger.15Welosenotime.Scramblingdownthelife-ropes,oursmallcompanyendeavorstogetfootholdonherdecks.Thedestroyerwidensoffattherebound,butbyclutchoffriendlyhandsthemenaredraggedaboard.Onefailstoreachsafety.Asoldierlosesgripandgoestothewater.Thechiefofficerfollowshim.Tiredandunstrungashemustbebythedevotedlaborsofthelasthalf-hour,heisinnoconditiontoeffectarescue.Asuddendeeprumblefromwithinthesinkingshipwarnsthedestroyercaptaintogoahead.Wearegivennochancetoaidourshipmates:thepropellerstearthewaterinafuriousracethatsweepsthemaway,andwedrawoffswiftlyfromthesideoftheship.16WearelittlemorethanclearofthesettlingforeendwhenthelastbuoyantbreathofCameroniaisovercome.Noblyshehasheldafloattothedebarkingofthelastman.Thereisnofurtherlifeinher.Evenly,steadily,aswehadseenherleavethelaunchingwaysatMeadowside,shegoesdown.

316.TheMarketbyWilliamMcFeeWilliamMcFee’snameisassociatedwiththesea,butinhiswritinghetreatsthelifeofshipsandsailorsmoreasabackgroundthanastheessentialsubstanceofhistale.Ihavechosenthisbriefandcolorfullittlesketchtorepresenthistalentbecauseitisdifferentfromtheworkwithwhichmostofhisreadersarefamiliar,andbecauseitrepresentsamoodverycharacteristicofhim—animaginativeandobservanttreatmentoftheworkingsofcommerce.Hisinterestinfruitisintimate,ashehasbeenforsomeyearsanengineerintheseaserviceoftheUnitedFruitCompany,withaMediterraneaninterim—reflectedinmuchofhisrecentwriting—duringtheWar.ThepublicationofMcFee’sCasualsoftheSeain1916wassomethingofaneventintheworldofbooks,andintroducedtothereadingworldanewwriterofunquestionablestrengthandsubtlety.Hisearlierbooks,AnOceanTrampandAliens(bothrepublishedsince),hadgonealmostunnoticed—which,itissafetosay,willnothappenagaintoanythinghecarestopublish.HislaterbooksareCaptainMacedoine’sDaughter,HarboursofMemory,andAnEngineer’sNotebook.Hewasbornatseain1881,thesonofasea-captain;grewupinanorthernsuburbofLondon,servedhisapprenticeshipinabigengineeringshop,andhasbeeninshipsmostofthetimesince1905.THEREisasharp,imperativeraponmyouterdoor;araphavingwithinitsinsistenturgencyashadowofdelicatediffidence,asthoughthepersonresponsiblewereatriflescaredoftheperformanceandontiptoetorunaway.Irolloverandregardtheclock.Four-forty.Oneofthedubiousby-productsofcontinuousserviceasaseniorassistantatseaisthehabitofwakingautomaticallyabout4A.M.Thisgivesoneseveralhours,whenashore,tomeditateuponone’ssins,frailties,and(morerarely)triumphsandvirtues.Foramanwhogetsupatsayfour-thirtyisregardedwithaversionashore.Hisfamilyexpressthemselveswithsuperfluousvigor.Hemustliestillandmeditate,orsuffertheignominyofbeingaskedwhenheisgoingawayagain.1Butthismorning,intheseoldChambersinanancientInnburiedintheheartofLondonCity,Ihaveagreedtogetupandgoout.Thereasonforthismomentousdeparturefromalifeoftemporarybutdeliberateindolenceisalady.“Cherchezlafemme,”astheFrenchsaywiththedryanimosityofalogicalrace.Well,sheisnotfartoseek,beingontheoutsideofmyheavyoakdoor,tapping,asalreadyhinted,withasharpinsistentdelicacy.TothisromanticsummonsIreplywithanarticulategrowlofacquiescence,andproceedtogetready.Torelievetheanxietyofanyreaderwhoimaginesanimpendingelopementitmaybestatedinsuccincttruthfulnessthatweareboundonnosuchdesperateventure.WearegoingroundthecornerafewblocksuptheStrand,toCoventGardenMarket,toseethearrivalofthemetropolitansupplyofproduce.2Havingaccomplishedahastytoilet,almostasprimitiveasthatfavoredbygentlemenaroused

32togoonwatch,andplacatinganoccasionalrepetitionofthetappingbybriefprotestsandreportsofprogress,Itakehatandcane,anddrawingthehugeantiqueboltsofmydoor,discoverayoungwomanstandingbythewindowlookingoutuponthequadrangleoftheoldInn.Sheisaverydecidedyoungwoman,whoiscontinuallythinkingoutwhatshecalls“stunts”forarticlesinthepress.Thatisherprofession,oroneofherprofessions—writingarticlesforthepress.Theotherprofessionissellingmanuscripts,whichconstitutesthetenderbondbetweenus.Fortheusualagent’scommissionsheissellingoneofmymanuscripts.Beinganunattachedand,asitwere,unprotectedmale,sheplanslittleexcursionsaboutLondontokeepmeinstructedandentertained.HeresheisattiredintheflamboyantfineryofaLondonflowergirl.Sheisabouttogetthenecessarycopyforaspecialarticleinamorningpaper.WiththeexceptionofacertainexpectantflashofherbrightblackIrisheyes,sheisentirelybusinesslike.Commentingonthebeautyofanearlysummermorningintown,wedescend,andpassingoutundertheponderousancientarchway,wemakeourleisurelyprogresswestwarddowntheStrand.3Londonisalwaysbeautifultothosewholoveandunderstandthatextraordinarymicrocosm;butatfiveofasummermorningthereisaboutheranexquisitequalityofyouthfulfragranceanddebonairfreshnesswhichgoestotheheart.Thenewly-hosedstreetsareshininginthesunlightasthoughpavedwith“patinesofbrightgold.”Early’busesrumblebyfromneighboringbarnswheretheyhavespentthenight.And,aswenearthenewGaietyTheatre,thrustingforwardintothegreatriversoftrafficsoontopourrounditsbaselikesomeboldByzantinepromontory,weseeWaterlooBridgethrongedwithwagons,piledhigh.Fromallquarterstheyarecoming,pastCharingCrossthegreatwainsarearrivingfromPaddingtonTerminal,fromthemarket-gardensectionofMiddlesexandSurrey.DownWellingtonStreetcomecartsladenwithvegetablesfromBrentwoodandCoggeshall,andneatvanspackedwithcratesofwatercresswhichgrowsinthelushlowlandsofSuffolkandCambridgeshire,andbehindusarethunderinghugefourhorsevehiclesfromthedocks,vehicleswithpeachesfromSouthAfrica,potatoesfromtheCanaryIslands,onionsfromFrance,applesfromCalifornia,orangesfromtheWestIndies,pineapplesfromCentralAmerica,grapesfromSpainandbananasfromColombia.4Weturninunderanarchwaybehindatheatreandadjacenttothestage-dooroftheOperaHouse.Theboothsarerapidlyfillingwithproduce.Gentlemeninlongalpacacoatsandcarryingformidablemarblednote-bookswalkaboutwithanimportantair.Amountainrangeofpumpkinsrisesbehindahillofcabbages.Festoonsofonionsarebeingsuspendedfromrails.Theheadsofbarrelsarebeingknockedin,disclosingpurplegrapesburiedincorkdust.Pearsandfigs,grownunderglassforwealthypatrons,reposeinsofttissue-linedboxes.Abrokencrateoftangerineorangeshasspilleditscontentsinasplashofruddygoldontheplankrunway.Awagonisdrivenin,aheavyloadofbeets,andthebroadwheelscrushthroughthesoftfruitsothattheairisheavywiththeacridsweetness.5

33Wepickourwayamongtheboothsandstallsuntilwefindtheflowers.Hereisacrowdofladies,young,so-soandsomequitematronly,andalldressedinthissameflamboyantfineryofwhichIhavespoken.Theyaregroupedaboutanalmostoverpoweringmassofblooms.Rosesjustnowpredominate.Thereisasatisfyingsolidityaboutthebunches,agloriousabundancewhich,inacommoditysoeasilyenjoyedwithoutownership,isscarcelycredible.Ifeelnodesiretoownthesehugeaggregationsofodorousbeauty.Itwouldbelikeowningaharem,oneimagines.Violets,solidpatchesofvividblueinroundbaskets,eglantineindaintyboxes,provideafoiltothemajesticblazonryoftherosesandthedewspangledforestofmaiden-hairfernnearby.6“Andwhatarethosethingsatall?”demandsmycompanion,divertedforamomentfromtheflowers.Shenodstowardsamassofdull-greenaffairspiledonmatsorbeingliftedfrombigvans.SheisaCockneyanddisplayssurprisewhensheistoldthosethingsarebananas.Sheshrugsandturnsagaintothemusk-roses,andforgets.Buttome,astheharsh,penetratingodorofthegreenfruitcutsacrosstheheavyperfumeoftheflowers,comesapictureofthefarmsindistantColombiaorperhapsCostaRica.Thereisnothinglikeanodortostirmemories.Iseethetimberpierandthelonglineofracketyopenslattedcarsjanglingintothedarkshed,pushedbyanoisy,squealinglocomotive.Iseetheboyslyingasleepbetweenshifts,theirenormousstrawhatscoveringtheirfacesastheysprawl.Inthedistancerisethebluemountains;behindisthemotionlessbluesea.Ihearthewhineoftheelevators,themonotonousclickofthecounters,theharshcriesofirresponsibleandargumentativenatives.Ifeeltheheatofthetropicday,andseethegleamofthewhitewavesbreakingonyellowsandsbelowtallpalms.Irecallthemysteriousimpenetrablesolitudeofthejungle,asolitudealive,ifoneisequippedwithknowledge,withaceaselesswarfareofwingedandcrawlinghosts.AndwhilemycompanionisbusilyengagedingettingcopyforaspecialarticleabouttheMarket,IstepnimblyoutofthewayofaswarthygentlemanfromCalabria,whowithhistwo-wheeledbarrowisthelastlinkintheimmensechainoftransportationconnectingthefarmerinthedistanttropicsandthecockneypedestrianwhohaltsonthesidewalkandpurchasesabananaforacoupleofpennies.

347.HolyIrelandbyJoyceKilmerThisechooftheA.E.F.isprobablythebestthingJoyceKilmereverwrote,andshowstheveinofrealtendernessandinsightthatlaybeneathhislivelyandversatilecareeronGrubStreet.Inhim,asinmanyidealists,theIrishthemehadbecomelegendary,itwaspartofhisreligionandhisdream-life,andhetreateditwithrealaffectionandhumor.Youwillfinditcroppingoutmanytimesinhisverses.TheIrishproblemasitisreflectedinthiscountryisnotalwaysclearlyunderstood.Ireland,inthemindsofourpoets,isamysticallandofgreenhills,saintsandleprechauns,anditspoliticalproblemsareeasy.JoyceKilmerwasborninNewBrunswickin1886;studiedatRutgersCollegeandColumbiaUniversity;taughtschool;workedonthestaffoftheStandardDictionary;passedthroughphasesofsocialismandAnglicanismintotheCatholiccommunion,andjoinedtheSundaystaffoftheNewYorkTimesin1913.HewaskilledfightinginFrancein1918.ThissketchistakenfromthesecondofthethreevolumesinwhichRobertCortesHolliday,hisfriendandexecutor,hascollectedJoyceKilmer’swork.WEhadhikedseventeenmilesthatstormyDecemberday—thethirdofafourdays’journey.Thesnowwaspiledhighonourpacks,ourrifleswerecrustedwithice,theleatherofourhob-nailedbootswasfrozenstiffoverourlamedfeet.Thewearylieutenantledustothedoorofalittlehouseinasidestreet.1“Nexttwelvemen,”hesaid.Adozenofusdroppedoutoftheranksanddraggedourselvesoverthethreshold.Wetrackedsnowandmudoveraspotlessstonefloor.BeforeanopenfirestoodMadameandthethreechildren—agirlofeightyears,aboyoffive,aboyofthree.TheystaredwithroundfrightenedeyesatlessoldatsAmericans,thefirsttheyhadeverseen.Weweretootiredtostareback.Weatonceclimbedtothechillattic,ourbillet,ourlodgingforthenight.Firstweliftedthepacksfromoneanother’sachingshoulders:then,withoutspreadingourblankets,welaydownonthebareboards.2Fortenminutestherewassilence,brokenbyanoccasionalgroan,anoath,thestrikingofamatch.Cigarettesglowedlikefirefliesinaforest.Thenavoicecamefromthecorner:3“WhereisSergeantReilly?”itsaid.Welazilysearched.TherewasnoSergeantReillytobefound.4“I’llbettheoldbumhasgoneoutafterapint,”saidthevoice.AndwiththecuriosityoftheAmericanandtheenthusiasmoftheIrishwelumbereddownstairsinquestofSergeantReilly.5Hewassittingonalowbenchbythefire.Hisshoeswereoffandhisbruisedfeetwereinapailofcoldwater.Hewastoogoodasoldiertoexposethemtotheheatatonce.Thelittlegirlwasonhislapandthelittleboysstoodbyandenviedhim.Andinavoicethattwentyyearsofsoldiering

35andoceansofwhiskyhadfailedtorobofitsCelticsweetness,hewassoftlysinging:“IrelandIsn’tIrelandAnyMore.”Welistenedrespectfully.6“TheycheertheKingandthensalutehim,”saidSergeantReilly.7“AregularIrishmanwouldshoothim,”andwealljoinedinthechorus,“IrelandIsn’tIrelandAnyMore.”8“Ooh,la,la!”exclaimedMadame,andsheandallthechildrenbegantotalkatthetopoftheirvoices.WhattheysaidHeavenknows,butthetoneswerefriendly,evenadmiring.9“Gentlemen,”saidSergeantReillyfromhispostofhonor,“theladywhorunsthisbilletisaveryniceladyindeed.Shesaysyezcanalltakeoffyourshoesanddryyoursocksbythefire.Buttaketurnsanddon’tcrowdorI’llturnyezallupstairs.”10NowMadame,awomanofsomefortyyears,wasatruebourgeoise,withallthethriftofherclass.Andbythetermsofheragreementwiththeauthoritiesshewasrequiredtoletthesoldiershaveforonenighttheatticofherhousetosleepin—nothingmore;nolight,noheat.Also,woodisveryexpensiveinFrance—forreasonsthatareengraveninlettersofbloodonthepagesofhistory.Nevertheless—11“Asseyez-vous,s’ilvousplait,”saidMadame.Andshebroughtnearertothefireallthechairstheestablishmentpossessedandsomechestsandboxestobeusedasseats.Andsheandthelittlegirl,whosenamewasSolange,wentoutintothesnowandcamebackwithheapingarmfulsofsmalllogs.Thefireblazedmerrily—moremerrilythanithadblazedsinceAugust,1914,perhaps.Wesurroundedit,andsoontheairwasthickwithsteamfromourdryingsocks.12MeanwhileMadameandtheSergeanthadgenerouslyadmittedallelevenofusintotheirconversation.Aspiritedconversationitwas,too,inspiteofthefactthatsheknewnoEnglishandtheextentofhisFrenchwas“dupain,”“duvin,”“cognac”and“bonjour.”Thoseofuswhoknewalittlemoreofthelanguageofthecountryactedasinterpretersfortheothers.Welearnedthenamesofthechildrenandtheirages.Welearnedthatourhostesswasawidow.Herhusbandhadfalleninbattlejustonemonthbeforeourarrivalinherhome.Sheshoweduswithsimpleprideandaffectionandrestrainedgriefhispicture.Thensheshowedusthoseofhertwobrothers—onenowfightingatSalonica,theotheraprisonerofwar—ofhermotherandfather,ofherselfdressedforFirstCommunion.13Thislastpicturesheshowedsomewhatshyly,asifdoubtingthatwewouldunderstandit.ButwhenoneofusaskedinhaltingFrenchifSolange,herlittledaughter,hadyetmadeherFirstCommunion,thenMadame’sfacecleared.14“Maisoui!”sheexclaimed,“Etvous,mafoi,vousêtesCatholiques,n’est-cepas?”15Atoncerosarybeadswereflourishedtoproveourrighttoanswerthisquestionaffirmatively.Tatteredprayer-booksandsomewhatdingyscapularswerebroughttolight.Madameandthechildrenchatteredtheirsurpriseanddelighttoeachother,andeveryexhibitcalledforanew

36outburst.16“Ah,lebonS.Benoit!Ah,voilà,leConceptionImmacule!Oohlala,leSacréCœur!(whichlastexclamationsoundedinnowiseasirreverentasitlooksinprint).17Nowothertreasures,too,wereshown—treasureschieflyphotographic.Therewerefamilygroups,therewereConeyIslandsnapshots.AndMadameandthechildrenwereagratifyinglyappreciativeaudience.Theyadmiredandsympathized;theyexclaimedappropriatelyatthebeautyofeverygirl’sface,thetendernessofeverypicturedmother.WehadbecometheintimatesofMadame.Shehadadmittedusintoherfamilyandweherintoours.18Soldiers—AmericansoldiersofIrishdescent—havesoulsandhearts.Theseorgans(ifthesoulmaybesotermed)hadbeensatisfied.Butourstomachsremained—andthattheyyearnedwasevidenttous.Wehadmadeourhikeonamealofhardtackand“cornedwilly.”Messcallwouldsoundsoon.Shouldweforceourwetshoesonagainandplodthroughthesnowystreetstothetemporarymess-shack?Weknewoursupplywagonshadnotsucceededinclimbingthelasthillintotown,andthatthereforebreadandunsweetenedcoffeewouldbeourportion.Agreatdepressionsettleduponus.19ButSergeantReillyrosetotheoccasion.20“Boys,”hesaid,“thishereladyhasgotagoodfiregoing,andI’llbetshecancook.Whatdoyousaywegethertofixusupameal?”21Theproposalwasreceivedjoyouslyatfirst.Thensomeonesaid:22“ButIhaven’tgotanymoney.”“NeitherhaveI—notadamnsou!”saidanother.Andagainthespiritualtemperatureoftheroomfell.23AgainSergeantReillyspoke:24“Ihaven’tgotanymoneytospeakof,meself,”hesaid.“Butlet’shaveashow-down.Iguesswe’vegotenoughtobuysomethin’toeat.”25Itwaslongafterpay-day,andwewerenothopefuloftheresultsofthesearch.Butthewealthy(thatis,thosewhohadtwofrancs)madeupforthepoor(thatis,thosewhohadtwosous).AndamongthecoinsonthetableInoticedanAmericandime,anEnglishhalf-crownandaChinesepiecewithasquareholeinthecenter.Innegotiabletenderthemoneycameinalltoeightfrancs.26IttakesmoremoneythantofeedtwelvehungrysoldiersthesedaysinFrance.Buttherewasnoharmintrying.Soanex-seminarian,anex-bookkeeperandanex-street-carconductoraidedSergeantReillyinexplaininginFrenchthathadbothabrogueandaYankeetwangthatwewerehungry,thatthiswasallthemoneywehadintheworld,andthatwewantedhertocookussomethingtoeat.27NowMadamewaswhattheycallinNewEnglanda“capable”woman.InajiffyshehadthemoneyinSolange’shandandhadthatadmirablechildcloakedandwooden-shodforthestreet,

37andfullyinformedastowhatshewastobuy.WhatMadameandthechildrenhadintendedtohaveforsupperIdonotknow,fortherewasnothinginthekitchenbutthefire,thestove,thetable,someshelvesofdishesandanenormousbed.Nothinginthewayofafoodcupboardcouldbeseen.Andtheonlyotherroomofthehousewasthebareattic.28WhenSolangecamebackshecarriedinabasketbiggerthanherselfthesearticles:(1)twoloavesofwar-bread;(2)fivebottlesofredwine;(3)threecheeses;(4)numerouspotatoes;(5)alumpoffat;(6)abagofcoffee.Thewholerepresented,aswasafterwarddemonstrated,exactlythesumoftenfrancs,fiftycentimes.29Well,weallsettoworkpeelingpotatoes.ThenwithaveritableFrenchtrench-knifeMadamecutthepotatoesintolongstrips.MeanwhileSolangehadputthelumpoffatintothebigblackpotthathungbyachainoverthefire.Intheboilinggreasethepotatoeswereplaced,Madamestandingbywithabigladlepunchedfullofholes(IregretthatIdonotknowthetechnicalnameforthisinstrument)andkeepingthepotato-stripsswimming,zealouslyfrustratinganyattemptontheirparttolielazilyatthebottomofthepot.30Weforgotallaboutthehikeaswesatatsupperthatevening.Theonlyabsenteeswerethetwolittleboys,MichaelandPaul.Andtheywerereallyabsentonlyfromourboard—theywereintheroom,inthegreatbuilt-inbedthatwaslatertoholdalsoMadameandSolange.Theirlittlebodieswerecoveredbythethree-footthickmattress-likeredsilkquilt,buttheirtousledheadsprotrudedandtheywatchedusunblinkinglyalltheevening.31Butjustaswesatdown,beforeSergeantReillybeganhistaskofdishingoutthepotatoesandstartingthebottlesontheirway,MadamestoppedherchatteringandlookedatSolange.AndSolangestoppedherchatteringandlookedatMadame.Andtheybothlookedrathersearchinglyatus.Wedidn’tknowwhatwasthematter,butwefeltratherembarrassed.32ThenMadamebegantotalk,slowlyandloudly,asonetalkstomakeforeignersunderstand.AndthegistofherremarkswasthatshewassurprisedtoseethatAmericanCatholicsdidnotsaygracebeforeeatinglikeFrenchCatholics.33Wesprangtoourfeetatonce.ButitwasnotSergeantReillywhosavedthesituation.Instead,theex-seminarian(heisonlytemporarilyanex-seminarian;he’llbepreachingmissionsandgivingretreatsyetifabitofshrapneldoesn’thastenhisjourneytoHeaven)said,afterwehadblessedourselves:“Benedicite;nosetquaesumussumpturibenedicatDeus,PateretFiliusetSpiritusSanctus.Amen.”34MadameandSolange,obviouslyrelieved,joinedusintheAmen,andwesatdownagaintoeat.35Itwasamemorablefeast.Therewasnotmuchconversation—exceptonthepartofMadameandSolange—buttherewasplentyofgoodcheer.Alsotherewasenoughcheeseandbreadandwineandpotatoesforallofus—halfstarvedaswewerewhenwesatdown.EvenbigConsidine,

38whodrainsacanofcondensedmilkatagulpandhasbeenknowntoeatanapplepiewithoutstoppingtotakebreath,wassatisfied.Thereweretoasts,also,allproposedbySergeantReilly—toaststoMadame,andtothechildren,andtoFrance,andtotheUnitedStates,andtotheOldGrayMare(thislasttoasthavinganesotericsignificanceapparentonlytoilluminatiofSergeantReilly’scircle).36Thetableclearedandthe“agimustibigratias”dulysaid,wesatbeforethefire,mostofusonthefloor.Wewerewarmandhappyandfullofgoodfoodandgoodwine.IspiedaslipofpaperonthefloorbySolange’sfootandunashamedlyreadit.Itwasanaccountingfortheevening’sexpenditures—totalingexactlytenfrancsandfiftycentimes.37Nowwhensoldiersareunhappy—duringalong,hardhike,forinstance—theysingtokeepuptheirspirits.Andwhentheyarehappy,asontheeveningnowunderconsideration,theysingtoexpresstheirsatisfactionwithlife.Wesang“SweetRosieO’Grady.”Weshookthekitchen-bedroomwiththeechoesof“TakeMebacktoNewYorkTown.”WeinformedMadame,Solange,Paul,Michael,infact,thewholevillage,thatwehadneverbeenawandererandthatwelongedforourIndianahome.Wegrewsentimentalover“MotherMachree.”AndSergeantReillyobligedwithareel—inhissocks—toanaccomplishmentofwhistlingandhandclapping.38Now,itwasourhostess’sturntoentertain.Weintimatedasmuch.Sheresponded,firstbymuchtalk,muchconsultationwithSolange,andfinallybygoingtooneoftheshelvesthatheldthepansandtakingdownsomepaper-coveredbooks.39Therewasmoreconsultation,whisperedthistime,andmuchturningofpages.Then,aftersomepreliminarycoughingandhumming,themusicbegan—thewoman’srichaltoblendingwiththechild’sshrillbutsweetnotes.Andwhattheysangwas“TantumergoSacramentum.”40WhysheshouldhavethoughtthatanappropriatesongtoofferthiscompanyofroughsoldiersfromadistantlandIdonotknow.Andwhywefounditappropriateitisharderstilltosay.Butitdidseemappropriatetoallofus—toSergeantReilly,toJim(whousedtodriveatruck),toLarry(whosoldcigars),toFrank(whotendedabaronFourteenthStreet).Itseemed,forsomereason,eminentlyfitting.Notoneofusthenorlaterexpressedanysurprisethatthishymn,familiartomostofussinceourmothersfirstledustotheParishChurchdownthepavementsofNewYorkoracrosstheIrishhills,shouldbesungtousinthisstrangelandandinthesestrangecircumstances.41SincethegraciousLatinoftheChurchwasinorderandsincetheseasonwasappropriate,oneofussuggested“AdesteFideles”forthenextitemontheevening’sprogram.MadameandSolangeandourex-seminarianknewallthewordsandtherestofuscameinstrongwith“Venite,adoremusDominum.”42Then,asiftoshowthatpietyandmirthmaylivetogether,theladiesobligedwith“AuClairdelaLune”andothersimpleballadsofoldFrance.Andaftertapshadsoundedinthestreetoutside

39ourdoor,andtherewasyawning,andwrist-watcheswerebeingscanned,theevening’sentertainmentended,bygeneralconsent,withpatrioticselections.Wesang—asbestwecould—the“Star-SpangledBanner,”Solangeandhermotherhummingtheairandapplaudingattheconclusion.Thenweattempted“LaMarseillaise.”Ofcourse,wedidnotknowthewords.Solangecametoourrescuewithtwolittlepamphletscontainingthesong,sowelookedovereachother’sshouldersandgottoworkinearnest.Madamesangwithus,andSolange.ButduringthefinalstanzaMadamedidnotsing.Sheleanedagainstthegreatfamilybedsteadandlookedatus.Shehadtakenoneofthebabiesfromundertheredcomforterandheldhimtoherbreast.Oneofherredandtoil-scarredhandshalfcoveredhisfatlittleback.Therewasagentledignityaboutthatplain,hard-workingwoman,thatsoldier’swidow—weallfeltit.Andsomeofussawthetearsinhereyes.43Therearemists,faintandbeautifulandunchanging,thathangoverthegreenslopesofsomemountainsIknow.IhaveseenthemontheIrishhillsandIhaveseenthemonthehillsofFrance.Ithinkthattheyaremadeofthetearsofgoodbravewomen.44BeforeIwenttosleepthatnightIexchangedafewwordswithSergeantReilly.Welaysidebysideonthefloor,nowpiledwithstraw.Blankets,shelterhalves,slickersandovercoatsinsuredwarmsleep.SergeantReilly’shardoldfacewaswrappedroundwithhismuffler.Thefinalcigaretteofthedayburnedlazilyinacornerofhismouth.45“Thatwasaprettygoodevening,Sarge,”Isaid.“Wesurewereinluckwhenwestruckthisbillet.”46Hegruntedaffirmatively,thenpuffedinsilenceforafewminutes.Thenhedeftlyspatthecigaretteintoastrawlessportionofthefloor,whereitglowedforafewsecondsbeforeitwentout.47“Yousaidit,”heremarked.“Wewereinluckisright.Whatdoyouknowaboutthatlady,anyway?”48“Why,”Ianswered,“Ithoughtshetreatedusprettywhite.”49“Joe,”saidSergeantReilly,“doyourealizehowmuchtroublethatwomantooktomakethisbunchofroughneckscomfortable?Shedidn’tmakeadamncentonthatfeed,youknow.Thekidspentallthemoneywegiveher.Andshe’soutaboutsixfrancsforfirewood,too—IwishtoGodIhadthemoneytopayher.Ibetshe’llgocoldforaweeknow,andhungry,too.50“Andthatain’tall,”hecontinued,afterapausebrokenonlybyanoccasionalsnorefromourblissfulneighbors.“Lookatthewayshecookedthempommedeterresandfixedthingsupforusandletussitdowntherewithherlikewewasherfamily.AndlookatthewaysheandthelittleSallietheresungforus.51“Itellyou,Joe,itmakesmethinkofoldtimestohearawomansingthemchurchhymnstomethatway.It’sfortyyearssinceIheardahymnsunginakitchen,anditwasmymother,Godrest

40her,thatsangthem.Isortofrealizewhatwe’refightingfornow,andIneverdidbefore.It’sforwomenlikethatandtheirkids.52“Itgavemeaturntoseehera-sittingtheresingingthemhymns.IrememberedwhenIwasaboyinShangolden.Iwonderifthere’smanywomenlikethatinFrancenow—tellingtheirbeadsandsingingtheoldhymnsandtreatingpoortravelingmenthewayshe’sjustaftertreatingus.ThereusedtobelotsofwomenlikethatintheOldCountry.AndIthinkthat’swhyitwascalled‘HolyIreland.’”

418.AFamiliarPrefacebyJosephConradThisgloriousexpressionofthecredoofallartists,inwhateverformofcreation,lastinglyenrichestheEnglishtongue.ItisfromtheprefacetoAPersonalRecord,thatfascinatingautobiographicalvolumeinwhichConradtellsthecuriousstoryofaPolishboywhoranawaytoseaandbegantowriteinEnglish.Asacompanionpiece,thosewhohavethehonerofthewriter’scraftatheartshouldreadConrad’sprefacetoTheNiggeroftheNarcissus.“Allambitionsarelawfulexceptthosewhichclimbupwardonthemiseriesorcredulitiesofmankind.”Isitpermissibletowonderwhatsomenewspaperowners–sayMr.Hearst—wouldreplytothat?Mr.Conrad’scareeristoowellknowntobeannotatedhere.Ifbyanychancethereaderisnotacquaintedwithit,itwillbetohissoul’sadvantagetogotoapubliclibraryandlookitup.ASageneralrulewedonotwantmuchencouragementtotalkaboutourselves;yetthislittlebook1istheresultofafriendlysuggestion,andevenofalittlefriendlypressure.Idefendedmyselfwithsomespirit;but,withcharacteristictenacity,thefriendlyvoiceinsisted,“Youknow,youreallymust.”1Itwasnotanargument,butIsubmittedatonce.Ifonemust!…2Youperceivetheforceofaword.Hewhowantstopersuadeshouldputhistrustnotintherightargument,butintherightword.Thepowerofsoundhasalwaysbeengreaterthanthepowerofsense.Idon’tsaythisbywayofdisparagement.Itisbetterformankindtobeimpressionablethanreflective.Nothinghumanelygreat—great,Imean,asaffectingawholemassoflives—hascomefromreflection.Ontheotherhand,youcannotfailtoseethepowerofmerewords;suchwordsasGlory,forinstance,orPity.Iwon’tmentionanymore.Theyarenotfartoseek.Shoutedwithperseverance,withardor,withconviction,thesetwobytheirsoundalonehavesetwholenationsinmotionandupheavedthedry,hardgroundonwhichrestsourwholesocialfabric.There’s“virtue”foryouifyoulike!…Ofcourse,theaccentmustbeattendedto.Therightaccent.That’sveryimportant.Thecapaciouslung,thethunderingorthetendervocalchords.Don’ttalktomeofyourArchimedes’lever.Hewasanabsent-mindedpersonwithamathematicalimagination.Mathematicscommandsallmyrespect,butIhavenouseforengines.GivemetherightwordandtherightaccentandIwillmovetheworld.3Whatadreamforawriter!Becausewrittenwordshavetheiraccent,too.Yes!Letmeonlyfindtherightword!Surelyitmustbelyingsomewhereamongthewreckageofalltheplaintsandalltheexultationspouredoutaloudsincethefirstdaywhenhope,theundying,camedownonearth.Itmaybethere,closeby,disregarded,invisible,quiteathand.Butit’snogood.Ibelievetherearemenwhocanlayholdofaneedleinapottleofhayatthefirsttry.Formyself,Ihaveneverhadsuchluck.4

42Andthenthereisthataccent.Anotherdifficulty.Forwhoisgoingtotellwhethertheaccentisrightorwrongtillthewordisshouted,andfailstobeheard,perhaps,andgoesdown-wind,leavingtheworldunmoved?Onceuponatimetherelivedanemperorwhowasasageandsomethingofaliteraryman.Hejotteddownonivorytabletsthoughts,maxims,reflectionswhichchancehaspreservedfortheedificationofposterity.Amongothersayings—Iamquotingfrommemory—Irememberthissolemnadmonition:“Letallthywordshavetheaccentofheroictruth.”Theaccentofheroictruth!Thisisveryfine,butIamthinkingthatitisaneasymatterforanaustereemperortojotdowngrandioseadvice.Mostoftheworkingtruthsonthiseartharehumble,notheroic;andtherehavebeentimesinthehistoryofmankindwhentheaccentsofheroictruthhavemovedittonothingbutderision.5Nobodywillexpecttofindbetweenthecoversofthislittlebookwordsofextraordinarypotencyoraccentsofirresistibleheroism.Howeverhumiliatingformyself-esteem,ImustconfessthatthecounselsofMarcusAureliusarenotforme.Theyaremorefitforamoralistthanforanartist.TruthofamodestsortIcanpromiseyou,andalsosincerity.Thatcomplete,praiseworthysinceritywhich,whileitdeliversoneintothehandsofone’senemies,isaslikelyasnottoembroilonewithone’sfriends.6“Embroil”isperhapstoostronganexpression.Ican’timagineamongeithermyenemiesormyfriendsabeingsohardupforsomethingtodoastoquarrelwithme.“Todisappointone’sfriends”wouldbenearerthemark.Most,almostall,friendshipsofthewritingperiodofmylifehavecometomethroughmybooks;andIknowthatanovelistlivesinhiswork.Hestandsthere,theonlyrealityinaninventedworld,amongimaginarythings,happenings,andpeople.Writingaboutthem,heisonlywritingabouthimself.Butthedisclosureisnotcomplete.Heremains,toacertainextent,afigurebehindtheveil;asuspectedratherthanaseenpresence—amovementandavoicebehindthedraperiesoffiction.Inthesepersonalnotesthereisnosuchveil.AndIcannothelpthinkingofapassageinthe“ImitationofChrist”wheretheasceticauthor,whoknewlifesoprofoundly,saysthat“therearepersonsesteemedontheirreputationwhobyshowingthemselvesdestroytheopiniononehadofthem.”Thisisthedangerincurredbyanauthoroffictionwhosetsouttotalkabouthimselfwithoutdisguise.7WhilethesereminiscentpageswereappearingseriallyIwasremonstratedwithforbadeconomy;asifsuchwritingwereaformofself-indulgencewastingthesubstanceoffuturevolumes.ItseemsthatIamnotsufficientlyliterary.Indeed,amanwhoneverwrotealineforprinttillhewasthirty-sixcannotbringhimselftolookuponhisexistenceandhisexperience,uponthesumofhisthoughts,sensations,andemotions,uponhismemoriesandhisregrets,andthewholepossessionofhispast,asonlysomuchmaterialforhishands.Oncebefore,somethreeyearsago,whenIpublished“TheMirroroftheSea,”avolumeofimpressionsandmemories,thesameremarksweremadetome.Practicalremarks.But,truthtosay,Ihaveneverunderstoodthe

43kindofthrifttheyrecommend.Iwantedtopaymytributetothesea,itsshipsanditsmen,towhomIremainindebtedforsomuchwhichhasgonetomakemewhatIam.ThatseemedtometheonlyshapeinwhichIcouldofferittotheirshades.Therecouldnotbeaquestioninmymindofanythingelse.ItisquitepossiblethatIamabadeconomist;butitiscertainthatIamincorrigible.8Havingmaturedinthesurroundingsandunderthespecialconditionsofsealife,Ihaveaspecialpietytowardthatformofmypast;foritsimpressionswerevivid,itsappealdirect,itsdemandssuchascouldberespondedtowiththenaturalelationofyouthandstrengthequaltothecall.Therewasnothinginthemtoperplexayoungconscience.Havingbrokenawayfrommyoriginsunderastormofblamefromeveryquarterwhichhadthemerestshadowofrighttovoiceanopinion,removedbygreatdistancesfromsuchnaturalaffectionsaswerestilllefttome,andevenestranged,inameasure,fromthembythetotallyunintelligiblecharacterofthelifewhichhadseducedmesomysteriouslyfrommyallegiance,Imaysafelysaythatthroughtheblindforceofcircumstancestheseawastobeallmyworldandthemerchantservicemyonlyhomeforalongsuccessionofyears.Nowonder,then,thatinmytwoexclusivelyseabooks—“TheNiggeroftheNarcissus,”and“TheMirroroftheSea”(andinthefewshortseastorieslike“Youth”and“Typhoon”)—Ihavetriedwithanalmostfilialregardtorenderthevibrationoflifeinthegreatworldofwaters,intheheartsofthesimplemenwhohaveforagestraverseditssolitudes,andalsothatsomethingsentientwhichseemstodwellinships—thecreaturesoftheirhandsandtheobjectsoftheircare.9One’sliterarylifemustturnfrequentlyforsustenancetomemoriesandseekdiscoursewiththeshades,unlessonehasmadeupone’smindtowriteonlyinordertoreprovemankindforwhatitis,orpraiseitforwhatitisnot,or—generally—toteachithowtobehave.Beingneitherquarrelsome,noraflatterer,norasage,Ihavedonenoneofthesethings,andIampreparedtoputupserenelywiththeinsignificancewhichattachestopersonswhoarenotmeddlesomeinsomewayorother.Butresignationisnotindifference.Iwouldnotliketobeleftstandingasamerespectatoronthebankofthegreatstreamcarryingonwardsomanylives.Iwouldfainclaimformyselfthefacultyofsomuchinsightascanbeexpressedinavoiceofsympathyandcompassion.10Itseemstomethatinone,atleast,authoritativequarterofcriticismIamsuspectedofacertainunemotional,grimacceptanceoffacts—ofwhattheFrenchwouldcallséchereseducœur.Fifteenyearsofunbrokensilencebeforepraiseorblametestifysufficientlytomyrespectforcriticism,thatfineflowerofpersonalexpressioninthegardenofletters.Butthisismoreofapersonalmatter,reachingthemanbehindthework,andthereforeitmaybealludedtoinavolumewhichisapersonalnoteinthemarginofthepublicpage.NotthatIfeelhurtintheleast.Thecharge—ifitamountedtoachargeatall—wasmadeinthemostconsiderateterms;inatoneofregret.11

44Myansweristhatifitbetruethateverynovelcontainsanelementofautobiography—andthiscanhardlybedenied,sincethecreatorcanonlyexpresshimselfinhiscreation—thentherearesomeofustowhomanopendisplayofsentimentisrepugnant.Iwouldnotundulypraisethevirtueofrestraint.Itisoftenmerelytemperamental.Butitisnotalwaysasignofcoldness.Itmaybepride.Therecanbenothingmorehumiliatingthantoseetheshaftofone’semotionmissthemarkofeitherlaughterortears.Nothingmorehumiliating!Andthisforthereasonthatshouldthemarkbemissed,shouldtheopendisplayofemotionfailtomove,thenitmustperishunavoidablyindisgustorcontempt.Noartistcanbereproachedforshrinkingfromariskwhichonlyfoolsruntomeetandonlygeniusdareconfrontwithimpunity.Inataskwhichmainlyconsistsinlayingone’ssoulmoreorlessbaretotheworld,aregardfordecency,evenatthecostofsuccess,isbuttheregardforone’sowndignitywhichisinseparablyunitedwiththedignityofone’swork.12Andthen—itisverydifficulttobewhollyjoyousorwhollysadonthisearth.Thecomic,whenitishuman,soontakesuponitselfafaceofpain;andsomeofourgriefs(someonly,notall,foritisthecapacityforsufferingwhichmakesmanaugustintheeyesofmen)havetheirsourceinweaknesseswhichmustberecognizedwithsmilingcompassionasthecommoninheritanceofusall.Joyandsorrowinthisworldpassintoeachother,minglingtheirformsandtheirmurmursinthetwilightoflifeasmysteriousasanovershadowedocean,whilethedazzlingbrightnessofsupremehopesliesfaroff,fascinatingandstill,onthedistantedgeofthehorizon.13Yes!I,too,wouldliketoholdthemagicwandgivingthatcommandoverlaughterandtearswhichisdeclaredtobethehighestachievementofimaginativeliterature.Only,tobeagreatmagicianonemustsurrenderoneselftooccultandirresponsiblepowers,eitheroutsideorwithinone’sbreast.Wehaveallheardofsimplemensellingtheirsoulsforloveorpowertosomegrotesquedevil.Themostordinaryintelligencecanperceivewithoutmuchreflectionthatanythingofthesortisboundtobeafool’sbargain.Idon’tlayclaimtoparticularwisdombecauseofmydislikeanddistrustofsuchtransactions.Itmaybemyseatrainingactinguponanaturaldispositiontokeepgoodholdontheonethingreallymine,butthefactisthatIhaveapositivehorroroflosingevenforonemovingmomentthatfullpossessionofmyselfwhichisthefirstconditionofgoodservice.AndIhavecarriedmynotionofgoodservicefrommyearlierintomylaterexistence.I,whohaveneversoughtinthewrittenwordanythingelsebutaformoftheBeautiful—Ihavecarriedoverthatarticleofcreedfromthedecksofshipstothemorecircumscribedspaceofmydesk,andbythatact,Isuppose,Ihavebecomepermanentlyimperfectintheeyesoftheineffablecompanyofpureesthetes.14Asinpoliticalsoinliteraryactionamanwinsfriendsforhimselfmostlybythepassionofhisprejudicesandbytheconsistentnarrownessofhisoutlook.ButIhaveneverbeenabletolovewhatwasnotlovableorhatewhatwasnothatefuloutofdeferenceforsomegeneralprinciple.WhethertherebeanycourageinmakingthisadmissionIknownot.Afterthemiddleturnoflife’s

45wayweconsiderdangersandjoyswithatranquilmind.SoIproceedinpeacetodeclarethatIhavealwayssuspectedintheefforttobringintoplaytheextremitiesofemotionsthedebasingtouchofinsincerity.Inordertomoveothersdeeplywemustdeliberatelyallowourselvestobecarriedawaybeyondtheboundsofournormalsensibility—innocentlyenough,perhaps,andofnecessity,likeanactorwhoraiseshisvoiceonthestageabovethepitchofnaturalconversation—butstillwehavetodothat.Andsurelythisisnogreatsin.Butthedangerliesinthewriterbecomingthevictimofhisownexaggeration,losingtheexactnotionofsincerity,andintheendcomingtodespisetruthitselfassomethingtoocold,toobluntforhispurpose—as,infact,notgoodenoughforhisinsistentemotion.Fromlaughterandtearsthedescentiseasytosnivellingandgiggles.15Thesemayseemselfishconsiderations;butyoucan’tinsoundmorals,condemnamanfortakingcareofhisownintegrity.Itishisclearduty.Andleastofallcanyoucondemnanartistpursuing,howeverhumblyandimperfectly,acreativeaim.Inthatinteriorworldwherehisthoughtandhisemotionsgoseekingfortheexperienceofimaginedadventures,therearenopolicemen,nolaw,nopressureofcircumstanceordreadofopiniontokeephimwithinbounds.WhothenisgoingtosayNaytohistemptationsifnothisconscience?16Andbesides—this,remember,istheplaceandthemomentofperfectlyopentalk—Ithinkthatallambitionsarelawfulexceptthosewhichclimbupwardonthemiseriesorcredulitiesofmankind.Allintellectualandartisticambitionsarepermissible,uptoandevenbeyondthelimitofprudentsanity.Theycanhurtnoone.Iftheyaremad,thensomuchtheworsefortheartist.Indeed,asvirtueissaidtobe,suchambitionsaretheirownreward.Isitsuchaverymadpresumptiontobelieveinthesovereignpowerofone’sart,totryforothermeans,forotherwaysofaffirmingthisbeliefinthedeeperappealofone’swork?Totrytogodeeperisnottobeinsensible.Ahistorianofheartsisnotahistorianofemotions,yethepenetratesfurther,restrainedashemaybe,sincehisaimistoreachtheveryfountoflaughterandtears.Thesightofhumanaffairsdeservesadmirationandpity.Theyareworthyofrespect,too.Andheisnotinsensiblewhopaysthemtheundemonstrativetributeofasighwhichisnotasob,andofasmilewhichisnotagrin.Resignation,notmystic,notdetached,butresignationopen-eyed,conscious,andinformedbylove,istheonlyoneofourfeelingsforwhichitisimpossibletobecomeasham.17NotthatIthinkresignationthelastwordofwisdom.Iamtoomuchthecreatureofmytimeforthat.ButIthinkthattheproperwisdomistowillwhatthegodswillwithout,perhaps,beingcertainwhattheirwillis—oreveniftheyhaveawilloftheirown.AndinthismatteroflifeandartitisnottheWhythatmatterssomuchtoourhappinessastheHow.AstheFrenchmansaid,“Ilyatoujourslamanière.”Verytrue.Yes.Thereisthemanner.Themannerinlaughter,intears,inirony,inindignationsandenthusiasms,injudgments—andeveninlove.Themannerinwhich,as

46inthefeaturesandcharacterofahumanface,theinnertruthisforeshadowedforthosewhoknowhowtolookattheirkind.18Thosewhoreadmeknowmyconvictionthattheworld,thetemporalworld,restsonafewverysimpleideas;sosimplethattheymustbeasoldasthehills.Itrestsnotably,amongothers,ontheideaofFidelity.AtatimewhennothingwhichisnotrevolutionaryinsomewayorothercanexpecttoattractmuchattentionIhavenotbeenrevolutionaryinmywritings.Therevolutionaryspiritismightyconvenientinthis,thatitfreesonefromallscruplesasregardsideas.Itshard,absoluteoptimismisrepulsivetomymindbythemenaceoffanaticismandintoleranceitcontains.Nodoubtoneshouldsmileatthesethings;but,imperfectEsthete,IamnobetterPhilosopher.Allclaimtospecialrighteousnessawakensinmethatscornandangerfromwhichaphilosophicalmindshouldbefree.

479.OnDrawingbyA.P.HerbertA.P.HerbertisoneofthemostbrilliantoftheyoungerEnglishwriters,andhasdoneremarkableworkinfieldsapparentlyincompatible:lightverse,humorousdrolleries,andabeautifullywrittentragicnovel,TheSecretBattle.ThislastwasunquestionablyoneofthemostpowerfulbooksbornoftheWar,butitssalewastragicallysmall.TheHousebytheRiver,alaterbook,wasalsoanamazinglycompetentandoriginaltale,apparentlycastalongthelinesoftheconventional“mysterystory,”butreallyastudyofselfishnessandcowardicedonewithstartlingironyandintensity.Mr.HerbertwenttoWinchesterSchoolandNewCollege,Oxford,wherehetookhisdegreein1914.HesawmilitaryserviceattheDardanellesandinFrance,andisnowonthestaffofPunch.ThereisnoyoungwriterinEnglandfromwhomonemaymoreconfidentlyexpectacontinuanceoffinework.Thisairyanddeliciouslittleabsurdityisaperfectexampleofwhatagenuinehumoristcando.Ifthereisstillanyoneindoubtastothevalueoftheold-fashionedclassicaltraininginformingalustyprosestyle,lethimexamineMr.Herbert’sTheSecretBattle.ThisbookoftensoundsoddlylikeatranslationfromvigorousGreek—e.g.,Herodotus.Itislucid,compact,logical,richintellingepithet,informalandswift.Ifthesearenotthecardinalprosevirtues,whatare?ITiscommonlysaidthateverybodycansinginthebathroom;andthisistrue.Singingisveryeasy.Drawing,though,ismuchmoredifficult.IhavedevotedagooddealoftimetoDrawing,onewayandanother;Ihavetoattendagreatmanycommitteesandpublicmeetings,andatsuchfunctionsIfindthatDrawingisalmosttheonlyArtonecansatisfactorilypursueduringthespeeches.Onereallycannotsingduringthespeeches;soasaruleIdraw.IdonotsaythatIamanexpertyet,butafterafewmoremeetingsIcalculatethatIshallknowDrawingaswellasitcanbeknown.1Thefirstthing,ofcourse,istogetontoareallygoodcommittee;andbyagoodcommitteeImeanacommitteethatprovidesdecentmaterials.Anordinarydepartmentalcommitteeisnouse:generallytheyonlygiveyouacoupleofpagesoflinedfoolscapandnowhiteblotting-paper,andveryoftenthepencilsarequitesoft.Whiteblotting-paperisessential.Iknowofnomaterialthespoilingofwhichgivessomuchartisticpleasure—exceptperhapssnow.Indeed,ifIwasaskedtochoosebetweenmakingpencil-marksonasheetofwhiteblotting-paperandmakingfootmarksonasheetofwhitesnowIshouldbeinathingummy.2Muchthebestcommitteesfromthepointofviewofmaterialarecommitteesaboutbusinesswhichmeetatbusinesspremises—shippingoffices,forchoice.OneofthePacificLineshasthebestwhiteblotting-paperIknow;andthepencilsthereareadream.IamsurethedirectorsofthatfirmareDrawers;fortheyalwaysgiveyoutwopencils,onehardfordoingnoses,andonesoftfor

48doinghair.3Whenyouhaveselectedyourcommitteeandthespeechesarewellaway,theDrawingbegins.Mushthebestthingtodrawisaman.Notthechairman,orLordPommeryQuint,oranymemberofthecommittee,butjustAMan.ManynovicesmakethemistakeofselectingasubjectfortheirArtbeforetheybegin;usuallytheyselectthechairman.AndwhentheyfinditismorelikeMr.Gladstonetheyarediscouraged.IftheyhadwaitedalittleitcouldhavebeenMr.Gladstoneofficially.4AsaruleIbeginwiththeforeheadandworkdowntothechin(Fig.1.).[figure]5WhenIhavedonetheoutlineIputintheeye.ThisisoneofthemostdifficultpartsofDrawing;oneisneverquitesurewheretheeyegoes.If,however,itisnotagoodeye,ausefultipistogivethemanspectacles;thisgenerallymakeshimaclergyman,butithelpstheeye(Fig.2).[figure]6Nowyouhavetooutlinetherestofthehead,andthisisratheragamble.Personally,Igoinforstrongheads(Fig.3.).[figure]7Iamafraiditisnotastrongneck;Iexpectheisanauthor,andisnotwellfed.Butthatistheworstofstrongheads;theymakeitsodifficulttojoinupthechinandthebackoftheneck.8Thenextthingtodoistoputintheear;andonceyouhavedonethistherestiseasy.Earsaremuchmoredifficultthaneyes(Fig.4.).[figure]9Ihopethatisright.Itseemstometobealittletoofartothesouthward.Butitisdonenow.Andonceyouhaveputintheearyoucan’tgoback;notunlessyouareonaverygoodcommitteewhichprovidesindia-rubberaswellaspencils.10NowIdothehair.Hairmayeitherbeveryfuzzyorblack,orlightishandthin.Itdependschieflyonwhatsortofpencilsareprovided.FormyselfIpreferblackhair,becausethenthepartingshowsupbetter(Fig.5).[figure]11Untilonedrawshaironeneverrealizeswhatlargeheadspeoplehave.Doingthehairtakesthewholeofaspeech,usually,evenoneofthechairman’sspeeches.12Thisisnotoneofmybestmen;Iamsuretheearisinthewrongplace.AndIaminclinedtothinkheoughttohavespectacles.Onlythenhewouldbeaclergyman,andIhavedecidedthatheisMr.PhilipGibbsattheageoftwenty.Sohemustcarryonwithhiseyeasitis.13Ifindthatallmybestmenfacetothewest;itisacuriousthing.SometimesIdrawtwomenfacingeachother,buttheonefacingeastisalwaysadud.14There,yousee(Fig.6)?TheoneontherightisaBolshevik;hehasalowforeheadandbeetlingbrows—amostunpleasantman.Yethehasapowerfulface.TheoneontheleftwasmeanttobeanotherBolshevik,arguingwithhim.Buthehasturnedouttobealady,soIhavehadtogivehera“bun.”Sheisaladysolicitor;butIdon’tknowhowshecametobetalkingtotheBolshevik.[figure]

4915Whenyouhavelearnedhowtodomen,theonlyotherthingsinDrawingarePerspectiveandLandscape.16PERSPECTIVEisgreatfun:thebestthingtodoisalongFrenchroadwithtelegraphpoles(Fig.7).[figure]17Ihaveputinafenceaswell.18LANDSCAPEischieflycomposedofhillsandtrees.Treesarethemostamusing,especiallyfluffytrees.19HereisaLandscape.[figure]20Somehoworotheramanhasgotintothislandscape;and,asluckwouldhaveit,itisNapoleon.Apartfromthisitisnotabadlandscape.[figure]21Butittakesaverylongspeechtogetanambitiouspieceofworklikethisthrough.[figure]22ThereisoneotherthingIoughttohavesaid.Neverattempttodrawamanfront-face.Itcan’tbedone.

5010.O.HenrybyO.W.FirkinsSeveralyearsagoIturnedtoWho’sWhoinAmericainhopeoffindingsomeinformationaboutO.W.Firkins,whosebrilliantreviews—chieflyofpoetry—wereappearinginTheNation.Ifoundnoentry,buteveryfewmonthsIwouldagainrummagethatstoutredvolumewiththesameintention,forgettingthatIhaddonesobeforewithoutsuccess.Itseemedhardlycrediblethatacriticsobrillianthadbeenoverlookedbytheindustriouscompilersofthatwork,whichincludeshundredsofhacksandfourflushers.WhengatheringthecontentsofthisbookItriedWho’sWhoagain,stillwithoutresult.IwrotetoMr.Firkinspleadingforbiographicaldetails;modestly,butfirmly,hedeniedme.SoallIcantellyouisthis,thatMr.Firkinsistomymindoneofthehalf-dozenmostsparklingcriticsinthiscountry.Onesometimesfeelsthatheiscarriedalittlepasthisdestinationbythesheergustoandhilarityofhisantithesesandparadoxes.Thatisnotso,however,inthisessayaboutO.Henry,anauthorwhohasoftenbeengrotesquelymispraised(Ididnotsayoverpraised)bypeopleincompetenttoappreciatehistruegreatness.Mr.RobertCortesHolliday,inanessaycalled“TheAmazingFailureofO.Henry,”saidthatO.Henrycreatednomemorablecharacters.Mr.Firkinssuggeststheobviousbutsatisfyinganswer—NewYorkitselfishistriumph.TheNewYorkofO.Henry,alreadyalmosterasedphysically,remainsapersonalityandanidentity.Mr.FirkinsisprofessorofEnglishattheUniversityofMinnesota,andacontributingeditorofTheWeeklyReview,inwhichthisessayfirstappearedinSeptember,1919.Thefootnotesare,ofcourse,hisown.THEREaretwoopinionsconcerningO.Henry.Themiddleclassviewshimastheimpersonationofvigorandbrilliancy;partofthehighercriticismseesinhimlittlebutsensationandpersiflage.Betweentheseviewsthereisanaturalrelation;thegodsoftheheathensareipsofactothedemonsofChristianity.Unmixedassertions,however,arecommonlymixturesoftruthandfalsehood;thereisroomto-dayforanestimatewhichshallrespectbothopinionsandadoptneither.1ThereisoneliterarytraitinwhichIamunabletonameanywriteroftalesinanyliteraturewhosurpassesO.Henry.1Itisnotprimaryorevensecondaryamongliterarymerits;itislessavaluepersethantheconditionorfoundationofvalues.Butitsutilityismanifest,anditisrareamongmen:ChaucerandShakespeareprovethepossibilityofitsabsenceinmastersofthatverybranchofartinwhichitspresencewouldseemtobeimperative.Irefertothedesigningofstories—nottotheprimaryintuitionortoskillindevelopment,inbothofwhichfinerphasesofinventionO.Henryhasbeenlargelyandfrequentlysurpassed,buttothedispositionofmasses,totheblocking-outofplots.ThatahalfeducatedAmericanprovincialshouldhavebeenoriginalinafieldinwhichoriginalmenhavebeencopyistsisenoughofitselftomakehispersonality

51observable.2Illustration,evenofconcededtruth,israrelysuperfluous.Isupplytwoinstances.Twolads,partinginNewYork,agreetomeet“AfterTwentyYears”ataspecifiedhour,date,andcorner.Botharefaithful;buttheyearsinwhichtheirrelationhassleptinmutualsilenceandignorancehaveturnedtheoneintoadashingcriminal,theotherintoasoberofficerofthelaw.Behindthepicturesqueandcaptivatingrendezvouslurksapowerfuldramaticsituationandamoralproblemofarrestinggravity.Thisisdealtwithinsixpagesofthe“FourMillion.”The“FurnishedRoom,”twostoriesfurtheron,occupiestwelvepages.ThroughthewildernessofapartmentsonthelowerWestSideamantrailsawoman.Chanceleadshimtotheveryroominwhichthewomanendedherlifetheweekbefore.Betweenhimandthetruththeavariceofasordidlandladyinterposesthecurtainofalie.Inthebedinwhichthegirlsleptanddied,themansleepsanddies,andtheentranceofthedeadlyfumesintohisnostrilsshutsthesinisterandmournfulcoincidenceforeverfromtheknowledgeofmankind.O.Henrygavethesetalesneitherextensionnorprominence;sofarasIknow,theywerereceivedwithoutbravosorsalvos.Thedistinctionofabodyofworkinwhichsuchspecimensareundistinguishedhardlyrequirescomment.3Afewtypesamongthesestoriesmaybespecified.TherearetheSydneyCartonisms,definedinthename;love-storiesinwhichdividedhearts,orsimplydividedpersons,arebroughttogetherbythestrategyofchance;hoaxstories—deftpicturesofsmilingroguery;“princeandpauper”stories,inwhichwealthandpovertyfaceeachother,sometimesenacteachother;disguisestories,inwhichthewrongclothesoftendrawthewrongbullets;complementalstories,inwhichJimsacrificeshisbelovedwatchtobuycombsforDella,who,meanwhile,hassacrificedherbelovedhairtobuyachainforJim.4Thisimperfectlistiseloquentinitsway;itsmoothsourpathtotheassertionthatO.Henry’sspecialtyistheenlistmentoforiginalmethodintheserviceoftraditionalappeals.Theendsaretheendsoffiftyyearsago;O.Henrytransportsusbyaeroplanetheoldhomestead.25CriticismofO.Henryfallsintothosesuperlativesandantithesesinwhichhisownfacultydelighted.Inmechanicalinventionheisalmosttheleaderofhisrace.Inarelatedquality—adefect—hisleadershipisevenmoreconspicuous.Idoubtifthesenseoftheprobable,or,moreprecisely,oftheavailableintheimprobable,everbecameequallyweakenedordeadenedinamanwhomadehislivingbyitsexercise.Theimprobable,eventheimpossible,hasitsplaceinart,thoughthatplaceisrelativelylow;anditiscuriousthatworkssuchasthe“ArabianNights”andGrimm’sfairytales,whosestock-in-tradeistheincredible,aretheworkswhichgivealmostnotroubleonthescoreofverisimilitude.Thetruthisthatwerejectnotwhatitisimpossibletoprove,orevenwhatitispossibletodisprove,butwhatitisimpossibletoimagine.O.Henryasksustoimaginetheunimaginable—thatishiscrime.6Therightandwrongimprobabilitiesmaybeillustratedfromtwoburglarstories.“Sixesand

52Sevens”containsanexcellenttaleofaburglarandacitizenwhofraternize,inacomicmidnightinterview,onthescoreoftheircommonsufferingsfromrheumatism.Thisfeelinginpracticewouldnottriumphoverfearandgreed;butthefeelingisnatural,andeverybodywithagrainofnatureinhimcanimagineitstriumph.Naturetendstowardsthatimpossibility,andart,lifting,sotospeak,thelidwhichfactdropsuponnature,revealsnatureinbelyingfact.Inanotherstory,in“Whirligigs,”anocturnalinterviewtakesplaceinwhichaburglarandasmallboydiscusstheetiquetteoftheirmutualrelationbyformulasderivedfromshortstorieswithwhichbothareamazinglyconversant.Thisisthewronguseofimprobable.Evenanimaginationinuredtothevirtuesofburglarsandthematurityofsmallboyswillhavenaughttodowiththisinsanity.7ButO.Henrycangofurtheryet.Thereareinventionsinhistalestheveryutteranceofwhich—notthemeresubstancebuttheutterance—onthepartofamannotwritingfromBedlamorforBedlamimpressesthereaderasincredible.Ina“ComedyinRubber,”twopersonsbecomesousedtospectatorshipattransactionsinthestreetthattheydriftintothepartofspectatorswhenthetransactionistheirownwedding.Canhumandaringorhumanfollygofurther?O.Henryisonthespottoprovethattheycan.Inthe“RomanceofaBusyBroker,”abusyandforgetfulman,inafreakofabsent-mindedness,offershishandtothestenographerwhomhehadmarriedthenightbefore.8Theotherday,inthejournaloftheGoncourts,Icameuponthefollowingsentence:“Neverwilltheimaginationapproachtheimprobabilitiesandtheantithesesoftruth”(II,9).ThisisdatedFebruary21,1862.Truthhadstilltheadvantage.O.HenrywasnotborntillSeptemberofthesameyear.9Passingontostyle,wearestillinthelandofantithesis.Thestyleisgross—andfine.Oftheplenitudeofitsstimulus,therecanbenoquestion.In“SixesandSevens,”ayoungmansinkingunderaccidentalmorphia,iskeptawakeandalivebyshouts,kicks,andblows.O.Henry’spublicseemsimagedinthatyoungman.ButIdrawasharpdistinctionbetweenthetoneofthestyleanditspattern.Thetoneisbrazen,or,betterperhaps,brassy;itsself-advertisementisincorrigible;itreekswiththatairofperformancewhichisopposedtorealefficiency.Butthepatternisanothermatter.TheSouthroundsitsperiodslikeitsvowels;O.Henryhasread,notwidely,butwisely,inhisboyhood.Hissentencesarebuilt—ararethinginthebestwritersofto-day.Inconciseness,thatSpartanvirtue,hewasstrong,thoughitmustbeconfessedthatthetale-tellerwasnowandthenhustledfromtherostrumbyhisrivalandenemy,thetalker.HecanintroduceafelicitywithanoiselessnessthatnumbershimforaflyingsecondamongthesovereignsofEnglish.“Inoneofthesecond-floorfrontwindowsMrs.McCaskeyawaitedherhusband.Supperwascoolingonthetable.ItsheatwentintoMrs.McCaskey.”10Iregretthetomfoolery;Iwinceattheslang.Yetevenfortheselevitieswithwhichhispagesaresoliberallybesprinkledorbedaubed,somehalf-apologymaybecircumspectlyurged.In

53nonsensehiseaseisconsummate.Ahorsemanwhoshoulddismounttopickupabaublewouldbechildish;O.Henrypicksitupwithoutdismounting.Slang,again,ismostpardonableinthemanwithwhomitsuseisleastexclusiveandleastnecessary.Therearemenwho,goingforawalk,taketheirdogswiththem;thereareothermenwhogiveawalktotheirdogs.Substituteslangforthedog,andthesuperiorityofthefirstclasstothesecondwillexactlyillustratethesuperiorityofO.Henrytotheabjecttraffickersinslang.11Inthe“Pendulum”Katyhasanewpatchinhercrazyquiltwhichtheicemancutfromtheendofhisfour-in-hand.Inthe“DayWeCelebrate,”threadingthemazesofabananagroveiscomparedto“pagingthepalmroomofaNewYorkhotelforamannamedSmith.”O.Henry’sisthetypeofmindtowhichimageslikethisfour-in-handandthispalmroomarepresentedinexhaustlessabundanceandunflaggingcontinuity.Therewashardlyanobjectinthemerry-go-roundofcivilizedlifethathadnotofferedatleastanendoranedgetotheavidityofhisconsumingeyes.Nothingescapesfromthebesomofhisallusiveness,andthestyleisstreakedandpied,almosttomonotony,bytheaccumulationoflivelydetails.12IfO.Henry’sstylewascrude,itwasalsorare;butitispartofthegrimnessofthebargainthatdestinydriveswithusthatthemixtureofthecrudeandtherareshouldbeacrudemixture,asthesonsofwhitesandnegroesarenumberedwiththeblacks.InthekingdomofstyleO.Henry’sestateswereprincely,but,topayhisdebts,hemusthavesoldthemall.13Thusfarinourinquiryextraordinarymeritshavebeenoffsetbyextraordinarydefects.Toliftourauthoroutoftheclassofbrilliantandskilfulentertainers,moreisneeded.Ismoreforthcoming?Ishouldanswer,yes.InO.Henry,abovetheknowledgeofsetting,whichisclearandfirst-hand,butsubsidiary,abovetheorderofevents,whichis,generallyspeaking,fantastic,abovetheemotions,whicharesoundandwarm,butalmostpurelyderivative,thereisarathersmall,butimpressivebodyoffirsthandperspicacitiesandreactions.Onthesehisendurancemayhinge.14Iname,firstofall,O.Henry’sfeelingforNewYork.WiththeexceptionofhisNewOrleans,IcarelittleforhisSouthandWest,whichareaboyishSouthandWest,andaslittle,orevenless,forhisSpanish-Americancommunities.Myobjectiontohisoperaboufferepublicsis,notthattheyareinadequateasrepublics(forthatwewereentirelyprepared),butthattheyareinadequateasopera.Heletsusseehisshowfromthecoulisses.Thepretenselacksstandingevenamongpretenses,andafaithmustbeinducedbeforeitsremovalcanenlivenus.ButhisNewYorkhasquality.ItisofthefamilyofDickens’sLondonandHugo’sParis,thoughitisplainlyacadetinthefamily.Mr.Howells,inhisprofoundandvaluablestudyofthemetropolisina“HazardofNewFortunes,”ispenetrating;O.Henry,ontheotherhand,ispenetrated.HisNewYorkisintimateandclinging;itiscaughtinthemeshoftheimagination.15O.Henryhadrarebutpreciousinsightsintohumandestinyandhumannature.Inthesepictures

54heisnotformallyaccurate;hecouldneverorseldomsethistruthbeforeusinthatmoderationandproportionwhichtruthsacquireinthestringenciesofactuality.Hewasapttopresenthisinsightinasortofparableorallegory,toupraiseitbeforetheeyesofmankindonthemastorflagpoleofsomevehementexaggeration.Epigramshowsustruthintheembraceofalie,andtaleswhicharedramatizedepigramsaresubjecttoalikeconstraint.Theforce,however,isreal.Icouldscarcelynameanywhereamorepowerfulexpositionoffatalitythan“RoadsofDestiny,”theinitialstoryinthevolumewhichappropriatesitstitle.ItwantedonlytheskilledromantictouchofaGautierorStevensontoenrollthistaleamongthemasterpiecesofitskindincontemporaryletters.16Nowandthentheingredientofparableishardlyperceptible;wedrawclosetothebarefact.O.Henry,fortunateinplots,ispeculiarlyfortunateinhisrenunciationofplot.Ifcontrivanceislucrative,itisalsocostly.Thereisanadmirablelittlestorycalledthe“Pendulum”(inthe“TrimmedLamp”),thesimplicityofwhosefablewouldhavesatisfiedCoppéeorHawthorne.Amaninaflat,byforceofcustom,hascometoregardhiswifeasapieceoffurniture.Shedepartsforafewhours,and,bythebreakinusage,isrestored,inhisconsciousness,towomanhood.Shecomesback,andrelapsesintofurniture.Thatisall.O.Henrycouldnothavegivenusless—ormore.Farcical,clownish,ifyouwill,thestoryresemblesthoseclownswhocarrydaggersundertheirmotley.WhenJohnPerkinstakesupthatinauspicioushat,thereadersmiles,andquails.Iwillmentionafewotherexamplesofinsightswiththeprovisothattheyarenotspeciallycommendedtothemanwhosequestintheshortstoryistheelectrifyingorthecalorific.Theyincludethe“SocialTriangle,”the“MakingofaNewYorker,”andthe“ForeignPolicyofCompany99,”allinthe“TrimmedLamp,”the“BriefDébutofTildy”inthe“FourMillion,”andthe“CompleteLifeofJohnHopkins”inthe“VoiceoftheCity.”Icannotclosethissummaryofgoodpointswithoutapassingreferencetothenotunsuggestiveportrayalofhumaneandcheerfulscoundrelsinthe“GentleGrafter.”Thepicture,iffalsetospecies,isfaithfultogenus.17O.Henry’segregiousness,onthesuperficialside,bothinmeritsanddefects,remindsusofthoseparkbenchessocharacteristicofhistaleswhichareoccupiedbyamillionaireatoneendandamendicantattheother.But,tocompletetheimage,wemustaddasacasualvisitortothatbenchaseerorastudent,who,sittingdownbetweenthepreviouscomersandsuspendingtheflamboyanciesoftheirdialogue,shouldgazewiththepensiveeyeofGoldsmithorAddisonuponthepassingcrowd.18InO.HenryAmericanjournalismandtheVictoriantraditionmeet.Hismind,quicktodontheguiseofmodernity,wasimpervioustoitsspirit.Thespecificallymodernmovements,thescientificawakening,thereligiousupheavalandsubsidence,thesocialisticgospel,theenfranchisementofwomen—theseneverinterferedwithhisartlessandjoyouspursuitoftheoldromanticmotivesoflove,hate,wealth,poverty,gentility,disguise,andcrime.Ontwopointsa

55moralrecordwhich,inhisliterature,iseverywheresoundandstainless,risesalmosttonobility.Inanagewhensexualexcitementhadbecomeavailableandpermissible,thisworshiperofstimulusnevertouchedwithsomuchasafingertipthatinsidiousandmeretriciousfruit.Thesecondpointishisfeelingforunderpaidworking-girls.Hispassionateconcernforthiswrongderivesapeculiaremphasisfromthegeneralrefusalofhisbookstobestowcountenanceornoticeofphilanthropyinitscollectiveforms.When,inhisdreamofHeaven,heisasked:“Areyouoneofthebunch?”(meaningoneofthebunchofgraspingandgrindingemployers),theresponse,throughallitsslang,issoul-stirring.“‘Notonyourimmortality,’saidI.‘I’monlythefellowthatsetfiretoanorphanasylumandmurderedablindmanforhispennies.’”TheauthorofthatretortmayhavesomedifficultywiththesentriesthatwatchtheentranceofParnassus;hewillhavenonewiththegatekeeperoftheNewJerusalem.19Note1.WilliamSidneyPorter,1862–1910,sonofAlgernonSidneyPorter,physician,wasborn,bred,andmeagerlyeducatedinGreensboro,NorthCarolina.InGreensborohewasdrugclerk;inTexashewasamateurranchman,land-officeclerk,editor,andbankteller.Convictedofmisuseofbankfundsoninsufficientevidence(whichhesupplementedbytheinsanityofflight),hepassedthreeyearsandthreemonthsintheOhioStatePenitentiaryatColumbus.ReleasewasthepreludetolifeinNewYork,tostory-writing,torapidandwide-spreadfame.Latterly,hisstories,publishedinNewYorkjournalsandinbookform,wereconsumedbythepublicwithanaviditywhichhisprematuredeath,in1910,scarcelychecked.Thepen-name,O.Henry,isalmostcertainlyborrowedfromaFrenchchemist,Etienne-OssianHenry,whoseabridgednamehefelluponinhispharmacalresearches.Seetheinteresting“O.HenryBiography”byC.AlphonsoSmith.[back]Note2.OHenry’sstorieshavebeenknowntocoincidewithearlierworkinafashionwhichdimsthenoveltyofthetalewithoutcloudingtheoriginalityoftheauthor.Ithoughtthebrilliant“HarlemTragedy”(inthe“TrimmedLamp”)uniquethroughsheeraudacity,buttheotherdayIfounditsmotiverepeatedwithsingularexactnessinMontesquieu’s“LettresPersanes”(LetterLI).

5611.TheMowingofaFieldbyHilaireBellocWehavenothadinourtimeamorenatural-bornessayist,ofthescamperingsort,thanHilaireBelloc.Heisaninfectiousfellow:ifyoureadhimmuchyouwillfindyourselftryingtoimitatehim;thereisnoharmindoingso:hehimselfcaughtthetrickfromRabelais.IdonotproposetorehashheretheessayIwroteabouthiminabookcalledShandygaff.Youcanrefertoitthere,whichwillbegoodbusinessallround.Iknowitisaworthyessay,formuchofitwascribbedfromanarticlebyMr.ThomasSeccombe,whichanAmericanpaperliftedfromtheEnglishjournalwhich,presumably,paidMr.Seccombeforit.IwroteitfortheBostonTranscript,whereIknewthetheftwouldbeundetected;andinshovelingtogethersomestuffforabook(thatwasin1917,thecostoflivingwasrisingatanangleofforty-fivedegrees,assomanygraphshaveshown)Iputitin,forgetting(untiltoolate)thatsomeofitwasabsoluteplunder.Mr.Chestertononcesaidsomethinglikethis:“Itisamistaketothinkthatthievesdonotrespectproperty.Theyonlywishittobecometheirproperty,sothattheymaymoreperfectlyrespectit.”Andbytheway,MaxBeerbohm’sparodyofBelloc,inAChristmasGarland,issomethingnottobemissed.ItisoneofthebestproofsthatBellocisareallygreatartist.Beerbohmdoesnotwastehistimemimickingthesmallfry.HilaireBelloc—sonofaFrenchfatherandanEnglishmother;hishappyjunctionofbothEnglishandFrenchgeniusinproseishereditary—wasborninFrancein1870.HelivedinSussexasachild;servedintheFrenchfieldartillery;wasatBalliolCollege,Oxford,1893–95,andsatfouryears(1906–10)intheHouseofCommons.Certainlyyoumustread(amonghisgatheringsofessays)OnNothing,OnEverything,OnSomething,HillsandtheSea,FirstandLast;thenyoucanreadThePathtoRome,andTheFourMen,andCaliban’sGuidetoLettersandThePyreneesandMarieAntoinette.Ifyoudesirethebouillon(orbullion)ofhischarm,thereisAPickedCompany,aselection(byMr.E.V.Lucas)ofhismostrepresentativework.ItispublishedbyMethuenandCompany,36EssexStreetW.C.,London.Havingdoneso,comeagain:wewillgooffinacornerandtalkaboutMr.Belloc.THEREisavalleyinSouthEnglandremotefromambitionandfromfear,wherethepassageofstrangersisrareandunperceived,andwherethescentofthegrassinsummerisbreathedonlybythosewhoarenativetothatunvisitedland.TheroadstotheChanneldonottraverseit;theychooseuponeithersideeasierpassesovertherange.Onetrackaloneleadsupthroughittothehills,andthisischangeable:nowgreenwhereitnearsthehomesteadsandthebarns.Thewoodsgrowsteepabovetheslopes;theyreachsometimestheverysummitoftheheights,or,whentheycannotattainthem,fillinandclothethecoombes.And,inbetween,alongthefloorofthevalley,

57deeppasturesandtheirsilenceareborderedbylawnsofchalkygrassandthesmallyewtreesoftheDowns.1Thecloudsthatvisititsskyrevealthemselvesbeyondtheonegreatrise,andsail,whiteandenormoustotheother,andsinkbeyondthatother.ButtheplainsabovewhichtheyhavetraveledandtheWealdtowhichtheygo,thepeopleofthevalleycannotseeandhardlyrecall.Thewind,whenitreachessuchfields,isnolongeragalefromthesalt,butfruitfulandsoft,aninlandbreeze;andthosewhosebloodwasnourishedherefeelinthatwindthefruitfulnessofourorchardsandallthelifethatallthingsdrawfromtheair.2Inthisplace,whenIwasaboy,Ipushedthroughafringeofbeechesthatmadeacompletescreenbetweenmeandtheworld,andIcametoagladecalledNoMan’sLand.Iclimbedbeyondit,andIwassurprisedandglad,becausefromtheridgeofthatglade,Isawthesea.TothisplaceverylatelyIreturned.3ThemanythingsthatIrecoveredasIcameupthecountrysidewerenotlesscharmingthanwhenadistantmemoryhadenshrinedthem,butmuchmore.Whateverveilisthrownbyalongingrecollectionhadnotintensifiednorevenmademoremysteriousthebeautyofthathappyground;notinmyverydreamsofmorninghadI,inexile,seenitmorebelovedormorerare.MuchalsothatIhadforgottennowreturnedtomeasIapproached—agroupofelms,alittleturnoftheparson’swall,asmallpaddockbeyondthegraveyardclose,cherishedbyoneman,withalowwallofveryoldstoneguardingitallround.Andallthesethingsfulfilledandamplifiedmydelight,tilleventhegoodvisionoftheplace,whichIhadkeptsomanyyears,leftmeandwasreplacedbyitsbetterreality.“Here,”Isaidtomyself,“isasymbolofwhatsomesayisreservedforthesoul:pleasureofakindwhichcannotbeimaginedsaveinamomentwhenatlastitisattained.”4WhenIcametomyowngateandmyownfield,andhadbeforemethehouseIknew,Ilookedaroundalittle(thoughitwasalreadyevening),andIsawthatthegrasswasstandingasitshouldstandwhenitisreadyforthescythe.Forinthis,asineverythingthatamancando—ofthosethingsatleastwhichareveryold—thereisanexactmomentwhentheyaredonebest.Andithasbeenremarkedofwhateverrulesusthatitworksblunderingly,seeingthatthegoodthingsgiventoamanarenotgivenattheprecisemomentwhentheywouldhavefilledhimwithdelight.But,whetherthisbetrueorfalse,wecanchoosethejustturnoftheseasonsineverythingwedoofourownwill,andespeciallyinthemakingofhay.Manythinkthathayisbestmadewhenthegrassisthickest;andsotheydelayuntilitisrankandinflower,andhasalreadyheavilypulledtheground.Andthereisanotherfalsereasonfordelay,whichiswetweather.Forveryfewwillunderstand(thoughitcomesyearafteryear)thatwehaverainalwaysinSouthEnglandbetweenthesickleandthescythe,orsayjustaftertheweeksofeastwindareover.Firstwehaveaweekofsuddenwarmth,asthoughthesouthhadcometoseeusall;thenwehavetheweeksofeastandsoutheast

58wind;andthenwehavemoreorlessofthatrainofwhichIspoke,andwhichalwaysastonishestheworld.Nowitisjustbefore,orduring,orattheveryendofthatrain—butnotlater—thatgrassshouldbecutforhay.True,uplandgrass,whichisalwaysthin,shouldbecutearlierthanthegrassinthebottomsandalongthewatermeadows;butnoteventhelatest,eveninthewettestseasons,shouldbeleft(asitis)toflowerandeventoseed.Forwhatwegetwhenwestoreourgrassisnotaharvestofsomethingripe,butathingjustcaughtinitsprimebeforematurity:aswitnessthatourcornandstrawarebestyellow,butourhayisbestgreen.SoalsoDeathshouldberepresentedwithascytheandTimewithasickle;forTimecantakeonlywhatisripe,butDeathcomesalwaystoosoon.Inaword,then,itisalwaysmucheasiertocutgrasstoolatethantooearly;andIunderthateveningandcomebacktothesepleasantfields,lookedatthegrassandknewthatitwastime.Junewasinfulladvance;itwasthebeginningofthatseasonwhenthenighthasalreadylostherfootholdoftheearthandhoversoverit,neverquitedescending,butmixingsunsetwiththedawn.5Nextmorning,beforeitwasyetbroadday,Iawoke,andthoughtofthemowing.Thebirdswerealreadychatteringinthetreesbesidemywindow,allexceptthenightingale,whichhadleftandflownawaytotheWeald,wherehesingsallsummerbydayaswellasbynightintheoaksandthehazelspinneys,andespeciallyalongthelittleriverAdur,oneoftheriversoftheWeald.Thebirdsandthethoughtofthemowinghadawakenedme,andIwentdownthestairsandalongthestonefloorstowhereIcouldfindascythe;andwhenItookitfromitsnail,Irememberedhow,fourteenyearsago,Ihadlastgoneoutwithmyscythe,justso,intothefieldsatmorning.Inbetweenthatdayandthisweremanythings,citiesandarmies,andaconfusionofbooks,mountainsandthedesert,andhorriblegreatbreadthsofsea.6WhenIgotoutintothelonggrassthesunwasnotyetrisen,buttherewerealreadymanycolorsintheeasternsky,andImadehastetosharpenmyscythe,sothatImightgettothecuttingbeforethedewshoulddry.Somesaythatitisbesttowaittillallthedewhasrisen,soastogetthegrassquitedryfromtheveryfirst.But,thoughitisanadvantagetogetthegrassquitedry,yetitisnotworthwhiletowaittillthedewhasrisen.For,inthefirstplace,youlosemanyhoursofwork(andthosethecoolest),andnext—whichismoreimportant—youlosethatgreateaseandthicknessincuttingwhichcomesofthedew.SoIatoncebegantosharpenmyscythe.7Thereisanartalsointhesharpeningofthescythe,anditisworthdescribingcarefully.Yourblademustbedry,andthatiswhyyouwillseemenrubbingthescythe-bladewithgrassbeforetheywhetit.Thenalsoyourrubbermustbequitedry,andonthisaccountitisagoodthingtolayitonyourcoatandkeepitthereduringallyourday’smowing.Thescytheyoustandupright,withthebladepointingawayfromyou,andputyourlefthandfirmlyonthebackoftheblade,graspingit:thenyoupasstherubberfirstdownonesideoftheblade-edgeandthendowntheother,beginningnearthehandleandgoingontothepointandworkingquicklyandhard.When

59youfirstdothisyouwill,perhaps,cutyourhand;butitisonlyatfirstthatsuchanaccidentwillhappentoyou.8Totellwhenthescytheissharpenoughthisistherule.Firstthestoneclangsandgrindsagainsttheironharshly;thenitringsmusicallytoonenote;then,atlast,itpurrsasthoughtheironandstonewereexactlysuited.Whenyouhearthis,yourscytheissharpenough;andI,whenIhearditthatJunedawn,witheverythingquitesilentexceptthebirds,letdownthescytheandbentmyselftomow.9Whenonedoesanythinganew,aftersomanyyears,onefearsverymuchforone’strickorhabit.Butallthingsoncelearntareeasilyrecoverable,andIverysoonrecoveredtheswingandpowerofthemower.Mowingwellandmowingbadly—orrathernotmowingatall—areseparatedbyverylittle;asisalsotrueofwritingverse,ofplayingthefiddle,andofdozensofotherthings,butofnothingmorethanofbelieving.Forthebadoryoungoruntaughtmowerwithouttradition,themowerPromethean,themoweroriginalandcontemptuousofthepast,doesallthesethings:Heleavesgreatcrescentsofgrassuncut.Hedigsthepointofthescythehardintothegroundwithajerk.Heloosensthehandlesandeventhefasteningoftheblade.Hetwiststhebladewithhisblundes,hebluntstheblade,hechipsit,dullsit,orbreaksitcleanoffatthetip.Ifanyoneisstandingbyhecutshimintheankle.Hesweepsupintotheairwildly,withnothingtoresisthisstroke.Hedragsupearthwiththegrass,whichislikemakingthemeadowbleed.Butthegoodmowerwhodoesthingsjustastheyshouldbedoneandhavebeenforahundredthousandyears,fallsintononeofthesefooleries.Hegoesforwardverysteadily,hisscythe-bladejustbarelymissingtheground,everygrassfalling;theswishandrhythmofhismowingarealwaysthesame.10Sogreatanartcanonlybelearntbycontinualpractice;butthismuchisworthwritingdown,that,asinallgoodwork,toknowthethingwithwhichyouworkisthecoreoftheaffair.Goodverseisbestwrittenongoodpaperwithaneasypen,notwithalumpofcoalonawhitewashedwall.Thepenthinksforyou;andsodoesthescythemowforyouifyoutreatithonorablyandinamannerthatmakesitrecognizeitsservice.Themanneristhis.Youmustregardthescytheasapendulumthatswings,notasaknifethatcuts.Agoodmowerputsnomorestrengthintohisstrokethanintohislifting.Again,standuptoyourwork.Thebadmower,eagerandfullofpain,leansforwardandtriestoforcethescythethroughthegrass.Thegoodmower,sereneandable,standsasnearlystraightastheshapeofthescythewilllethim,andfollowsupeverystrokeclosely,movinghisleftfootforward.Thenalsoleteverystrokegetwellaway.Mowingisathingofamplegestures,likedrawingacartoon.Then,again,getyourselfintoamechanicalandrepetitivemood:bethinkingofanythingatallbutyourmowing,andbeanxiousonlywhenthereseemssomeinterruptiontothemonotonyofthesound.Inthismowingshouldbelikeone’sprayers—allofasortandalwaysthesame,andsomadethatyoucanestablishamonotonyand

60workthem,asitwere,withhalfyourmind:thathappierhalf,thehalfthatdoesnotbother.11Inthisway,whenIhadrecoveredtheartaftersomanyyears,Iwentforwardoverthefield,cuttinglaneafterlanethroughthegrass,andbringingoutitsmostsecretessenceswiththesweepofthescytheuntiltheairwasfullofodors.AttheendofeverylaneIsharpenedmyscytheandlookedbackattheworkdone,andthencarriedmyscythedownagainuponmyshouldertobeginanother.So,longbeforethebellranginthechapelaboveme—thatis,longbeforesixo’clock,whichisthetimefortheAngelus—Ihadmanyswathesalreadylyinginorderparallellikesoldiery;andthehighgrassyetstanding,makingagreatcontrastwiththeshavenpart,lookeddenseandhigh.AsitsaysintheBalladofVal-es-Dunes,where—ThetallsonoftheSevenWindsCameridingoutofHither-hythe,andhishorse-hoofs(youwillremember)trampledintothepressandmadeagapinit,andhissword(asyouknow)waslikescytheInArcuswhenthegrassishighAndalltheswathesinorderlie,Andthere’sthebailiffstandingbyA-gatheringofthetithe.12SoImovedallthatmorning,tillthehousesawokeinthevalley,andfromsomeofthemrosealittlefragrantsmoke,andmenbegantobeseen.13Istoodstillandrestedonmyscythetowatchtheawakeningofthevillage,whenIsawcominguptomyfieldamanwhomIhadknowninoldertimes,beforeIhadlefttheValley.14Hewasofthatdarksilentraceuponwhichallthelearnedquarrel,butwhich,bywhatevermeaninglessnameitmaybecalled—Iberian,orCeltic,orwhatyouwill—isthepermanentrootofallEngland,andmakesEnglandwealthyandpreservesiteverywhere,exceptperhapsintheFensandinapartofYorkshire.Everywhereelseyouwillfinditactiveandstrong.Thesepeopleareintensive:theirthoughtsandtheirlaborsturninward.Itisonaccountoftheirpresenceintheseislandsthatourgardensaretherichestintheworld.Theyalsolovelowroomsandamplefiresandgreatwarmslopesofthatch.Theyhave,asIbelieve,anolderacquaintancewiththeEnglishairthananyotherofallthestrainsthatmakeupEngland.TheyhuntedintheWealdwithstones,andcampedinthepinesofthegreen-sand.Theylurkedundertheoaksoftheupperrivers,andsawthelegionariesgoup,upthestraightpavedroadfromthesea.Theyhelpedthefewpiratestodestroythetowns,andmixedwiththosepiratesandsharedthespoilsoftheRomanvillasandweregladtoseethecaptainsandthepriestsdestroyed.Theyremain;andnoadmixtureoftheFrisianpirates,ortheBreton,ortheAngevinandNormanconquerors,hasverymuchaffectedtheircunningeyes.15Tothisrace,Isay,belongedthemanwhonowapproachedme.Andhesaidtome,“mowing?”

61AndIanswered,“Ar.”Thenhealsosaid“Ar,”asindutybound;forsowespeaktoeachotherintheStenesoftheDowns.16Nexthetoldmethat,ashehadnothingtodo,hewouldlendmeahand;andIthankedhimwarmly,or,aswesay,“kindly.”Foritisagoodcustomofoursalwaystotreatbargainingasthoughitwereacourteouspastime;andthoughwhathewasafterwasmoney,andwhatIwantedwashislaborattheleastpay,yetwebothplayedthecomedythatwewerefreemen,theonegrantingagraceandtheotheracceptingit.Forthedrybonesofcommerce,avariceandmethodandneed,areodioustotheValley;andwecoverthemupwithaprettybodyoffictionandobservances.Thus,whenitcomestobuyingpigs,thebuyerdoesnotbegintodecrythepigandthevendortopraiseit,asisthecustomwithlessermen;buttraditionmakesthemdobusinessinthisfashion:—17Firstthebuyerwillgouptothesellerwhenheseeshiminhisownsteading,and,lookingatthepigwithadmiration,thebuyerwillsaythatrainmayormaynotfall,orthatweshallhavesnoworthunder,accordingtothetimeoftheyear.Thentheseller,lookingcriticallyatthepig,willagreethattheweatherisashisfriendmaintains.Thereisnohasteatall;greatleisuremarksthedignityoftheirexchange.Andthenextstepis,thatthebuyersays:“That’safinepigyouhavethere,Mr.—”(givingtheseller’sname).“Ar,powerfulfinepig.”Thentheseller,sayingalso“Mr.”(fortwinbrothersrockedinonecradlegiveeachotherceremoniousobservancehere),theseller,Isay,admits,asthoughwithreluctance,thestrengthandbeautyofthepig,andfallsintodeepthought.Thenthebuyersays,asthoughmovedbyagreatdesire,thatheisreadytogivesomuchforthepig,naminghalftheproperprice,oralittleless.Thenthesellerremainsinsilenceforsomemoments;andatlastbeginstoshakehisheadslowly,tillhesays:“Idon’tbethinkingofsellingthepig,anyways.”HewillalsoaddthatapartyonlyWednesdayofferedhimsomuchforthepig—andhenamesaboutdoubletheproperprice.Thusallritualisdulyaccomplished;andthesolemnactisentereduponwithreverenceandinaspiritoftruth.Forwhenthebuyerusesthisphrase:“I’lltellyouwhatIwilldo,”andofferswithinhalfacrownofthepig’svalue,thesellerrepliesthathecanrefusehimnothing,andnameshalfacrownaboveitsvalue;thedifferenceissplit,thepigissold,andinthequietsoulofeachrunsthepeaceofsomethingaccomplished.18Thusdowebuyapigorlandorlaborormaltorlime,alwayswithelaborationandsetforms;andmanyaLondonmanhaspaiddoubleandmoreforhisviolenceandhisgreedyhasteandveryunchivalroushiggling.AshappenedwiththelandatUnderwaltham,whichthemortgageeshadbeggedandimploredtheestatetotakeattwelvehundredandhadprivatelyofferedtoalltheworldatathousand,butwhichasharpdirectman,ofthekindthatmakesgreatfortunes,amaninamotor-car,amaninafurcoat,amanoffewwords,boughtfortwothousandthreehundredbeforemyveryeyes,protestingthattheymighttakehisofferorleaveit;andallbecausehedid

62notbeginbypraisingtheland.19Wellthen,thismanIspokeofofferedtohelpme,andhewenttogethisscythe.ButIwentintothishouseandbroughtoutagallonjarofsmallaleforhimandforme;forthesunwasnowverywarm,andsmallalegoeswellwithmowing.Whenwehaddrunksomeofthisaleinmugscalled“Iseeyou,”wetookeachaswathe,healittlebehindmebecausehewasthebettermower;andsoformanyhoursweswung,onebeforetheother,mowingandmowingatthetallgrassofthefield.Andthesunrosetonoonandwewerestillatourmowing;andweatefood,butonlyforalittlewhile,andwetookagaintoourmowing.Andatlasttherewasnothingleftbutasmallsquareofgrass,standinglikeasquareoflinesmenwhokeeptheirformation,tallandunbroken,withallthedeadlyingaroundthemwhenthebattleisoveranddone.20ThenforsomelittletimeIrestedafterallthosehours;andthemanandItalkedtogether,andalongwayoffweheardinanotherfieldthemusicalsharpeningofascythe.21Thesunlightslantedpowderedandmellowoverthebreadthofthevalley;fordaywasnearingitsend.Iwenttofetchrakesfromthesteading;andwhenIhadcomebackthelastofthegrasshadfallen,andallthefieldlayflatandsmooth,withtheverygreenshortgrassinlanesbetweenthedeadandyellowswathes.22Theseswatheswerakedintocockstokeepthemfromthedewagainstourreturnatdaybreak;andwemadethecocksastallandsteepaswecould,forinthatshapetheybestkeepoffthedew,anditiseasieralsotospreadthemafterthesunhasrisen.Thenwerakedupeverystragglingblade,tillthewholefieldwasacleanfloorfortheteddingandthecarryingofthehaynextmorning.Thegrasswehadmownwasbutalittleovertwoacres;forthatisallthepastureonmylittletinyfarm.23Whenwehaddoneallthis,therefelluponusthebeneficentanddeliberateevening;sothataswesatalittlewhiletogetherneartherakes,wesawthevalleymoresolemnanddimaroundus,andallthetreesandhedgerowsquitestill,andheldbyacompletesilence.ThenIpaidmycompanionhiswage,andbadehimagoodnight,tillweshouldmeetinthesameplacebeforesunrise.24Hewentoffwithaslowandsteadyprogress,asallourpeasantsdo,makingtheirwalkingapartoftheeasybutcontinuallaboroftheirlives.ButIsaton,watchingthelightcreeparoundtowardsthenorthandchange,andthewaningmooncomingupasthoughbystealthbehindthewoodsofNoMan’sLand.

6312.TheStudentLifebyWilliamOslerSirWilliamOsler,oneofthebest-lovedandmostinfluentialteachersofhistime,wasborninCanadain1849.HebeganhiseducationinTorontoandatMcGillUniversity,Montreal,whereheservedasprofessorofmedicine,1874–84.Whereverheworkedhisgiftedanduniquepersonalitywasacenterofinspiration—attheUniversityofPennsylvania,1884–89;atJohnsHopkins,1889–1904.In1904hewenttoOxfordasRegiusProfessorofMedicine;hediedinEnglandin1919.Onlyourmedicalfriendshavearighttospeakofthegreatdoctor’splaceintheirownworld;butonewouldliketoseehishonorableplaceasamanoflettersmoregenerallyunderstood.Hisgenerouswisdomandinfectiousenthusiasmaredelightfullyexpressedinhiscollectedwritings.NoloveroftheessaycanaffordtooverlookÆquamitasandOtherAddresses,AnAlabamaStudentandOtherBiographicalEssays,ScienceandImmortalityandCounselsandIdeals,thislastananthologycollectedfromhisprofessionalpapersbyoneofhispupils.Hestandsinthehonorablelineofthosegreatmasterswhohavefoundtheirhighestusefulnessaskindlycounselorsoftheyoung.Hislucidandexquisiteprose,withitsextraordinarywealthofquotationfromtheliteratureofallages,andhisunfailinghumorandtenderness,puthiminthefirstrankofdidacticessayists.Onecouldgetaliberaleducationinliteraturemerelybyfollowingupallhisquotationsandreferences.HewasmoredeeplyversedintheclassicsthanmanyprofessorsofGreekandLatin;thewholemusicofEnglishpoetryseemedtobecurrentinhisblood.HisessayonKeats,takenwithKipling’swonderfulstoryViaWireless,tellsthestudentmoreaboutthatpoetthanmanyavolumeofbiography.WhenwasbiographymoredelightfullywrittenthaninhisvolumeAnAlabamaStudent?WaltWhitmansaid,whenDr.Oslerattendedhimyearsago,“Oslerbelievesinthegospelofencouragement—ofputtingthebestconstructiononthings—thebestfootforward.He’safinefellowandawiseone,Iguess.”Thegreatdoctor’sgospelofencouragementisindeedahappycompanionforthemidnightreader.Richineverygentlequalitythatmakeslifeendeared,hisbooksarethemostsagaciousandhelpfulofmodernwritingsfortheyoungstudent.Asonewhohasfoundthemanunfailingdelight,Iventuretohopethatourmedicalconfrèresmaynotbetheonlyreaderstoenjoytheirvivacityandcharm.EXCEPTitbealover,nooneismoreinterestingasanobjectofstudythanastudent.Shakespearemighthavemadehimafourthinhisimmortalgroup.Thelunaticwithhisfixedidea,thepoetwithhisfinefrenzy,theloverwithhisfranticidolatry,andthestudentaflamewiththedesireforknowledgeareof“imaginationallcompact.”Toanabsorbingpassion,awhole-souleddevotion,mustbejoinedanenduringenergy,ifthestudentistobecomeadevoteeofthe

64gray-eyedgoddesstowhoselawhisservicesarebound.LikethequestoftheHolyGrail,thequestofMinervaisnotforall.Fortheone,thepurelife;fortheother,whatMiltoncalls“astrongpropensityofnature.”Hereagainthestudentoftenresemblesthepoet—heisborn,notmade.Whiletheresultantoftwomoldingforces,theaccidental,externalconditions,andthehiddengerminalenergies,whichproduceineachoneofusnational,family,andindividualtraits,thetruestudentpossessesinsomemeasureadivinesparkwhichsetsatnaughttheirlaws.Likethesnark,hedefiesdefinition,buttherearethreeunmistakablesignsbywhichyoumayrecognizethegenuinearticlefromaBoojum—anabsorbingdesiretoknowthetruth,anunswervingsteadfastnessinitspursuit,andanopen,honestheart,freefromsuspicion,guile,andjealousy.1Attheoutsetdonotbeworriedaboutthisbigquestion—Truth.Itisaverysimplematterifeachoneofyoustartswiththedesiretogetasmuchaspossible.Nohumanbeingisconstitutedtoknowthetruth,thewholetruth,andnothingbutthetruth;andeventhebestofmenmustbecontentwithfragments,withpartialglimpses,neverthefullfruition.Inthisunsatisfiedquesttheattitudeofmind,thedesire,thethirst—athirstthatfromthesoulmustrise!—theferventlonging,arethebe-allandtheend-all.Whatisthestudentbutalovercourtingaficklemistresswhoevereludeshisgrasp?Inthisveryelusivenessisbroughtouthissecondgreatcharacteristic—steadfastnessofpurpose.Unlessfromthestartthelimitationsincidenttoourfrailhumanfacultiesarefranklyaccepted,nothingbutdisappointmentawaitsyou.Thetruthisthebestyoucangetwithyourbestendeavor,thebestthatthebestmenaccept—withthisyoumustlearntobesatisfied,retainingatthesametimewithduehumilityanearnestdesireforaneverlargerportion.Onlybykeepingthemindplasticandreceptivedoesthestudentescapeperdition.Itisnot,asCharlesLambremarks,thatsomepeopledonotknowwhattodowithtruthwhenitisofferedtothem,butthetragicfateistoreach,afteryearsofpatientsearch,aconditionofmind-blindnessinwhichthetruthisnotrecognized,thoughitstaresyouintheface.Thiscanneverhappentoamanwhohasfollowedstepbystepthegrowthofatruth,andwhoknowsthepainfulphasesofitsevolution.Itisoneofthegreattragediesoflifethateverytruthhastostruggletoacceptanceagainsthonestbutmind-blindstudents.Harveyknewhiscontemporarieswell,andfortwelvesuccessiveyearsdemonstratedthecirculationofthebloodbeforedaringtopublishthefactsonwhichthetruthwasbased.12Onlysteadfastnessofpurposeandhumilityenablethestudenttoshifthispositiontomeetthenewconditionsinwhichnewtruthsareborn,oroldonesmodifiedbeyondrecognition.And,thirdly,thehonestheartwillkeephimintouchwithhisfellowstudents,andfurnishthatsenseofcomradeshipwithoutwhichhetravelsanaridwastealone.Isayadvisedlyanhonestheart—thehonestheadispronetobecoldandstern,giventojudgement,notmercy,andnotalwaysabletoentertainthattruecharitywhich,whileitthinkethnoevil,isanxioustoputthebestpossible

65interpretationuponthemotivesofafellowworker.Itwillfoster,too,anattitudeofgenerous,friendlyrivalryuntingedbythegreenperil,jealousy,thatisthebestpreventiveofthegrowthofabastardscientificspirit,lovingseclusionandworkinginalock-and-keylaboratory,astimorousoflightasisathief.3Youhaveallbecomebrothersinagreatsociety,notapprentices,sincethatimpliesamaster,andnothingshouldbefurtherfromtheattitudeoftheteacherthanmuchthatismeantinthatword,usedthoughitbeinanothersense,particularlybyourFrenchbrethreninamostdelightfulway,signifyingabondofintellectualfiliations.Afraternalattitudeisnoteasytocultivate—thechasmbetweenthechairandthebenchisdifficulttobridge.Twothingshavehelpedtoputupacantileveracrossthegulf.Thesuccessfulteacherisnolongeronaheight,pumpingknowledgeathighpressureintopassivereceptacles.Thenewmethodshavechangedallthis.HeisnolongerSirOracle,perhapsunconsciouslybyhisverymannerantagonizingmindstowhoselevelhecannotpossiblydescend,butheisaseniorstudentanxioustohelphisjuniors.Whenasimple,earnestspiritanimatesacollege,thereisnoappreciableintervalbetweentheteacherandthetaught—bothareinthesameclass,theonealittlemoreadvancedthantheother.Soanimated,thestudentfeelsthathehasjoinedafamilywhosehonorishishonor,whosewelfareishisown,andwhoseinterestsshouldbehisfirstconsideration.4Thehardestconvictiontogetintothemindofabeginneristhattheeducationuponwhichheisengagedisnotacollegecourse,notamedicalcourse,butalifecourse,forwhichtheworkofafewyearsunderteachersisbutapreparation.Whetheryouwillfalterandfailintheraceorwhetheryouwillbefaithfultotheenddependsonthetrainingbeforethestart,andonyourstayingpowers,pointsuponwhichIneednotenlarge.Youcanallbecomegoodstudents,afewmaybecomegreatstudents,andnowandagainoneofyouwillbefoundwhodoeseasilyandwellwhatotherscannotdoatall,orverybadly,whichisJohnFerriar’sexcellentdefinitionofagenius.5Inthehurryandbustleofabusinessworld,whichisthelifeofthiscontinent,itisnoteasytotrainfirst-classstudents.Underpresentconditionsitishardtogettheneedfulseclusion,onwhichaccountitisthatoureducationalmarketissofullofwaysidefruit.IhavealwaysbeenmuchimpressedbytheadviceofSt.Chrysostom:“Departfromthehighwayandtransplantthyselfinsomeenclosedground,foritishardforatreewhichstandsbythewaysidetokeepherfruittillitberipe.”Thedilettanteisabroadintheland,themanwhoisalwaysventuringontasksforwhichheisimperfectlyequipped,ahabitofmindfosteredbythemultiplicityofsubjectsinthecurriculum:andwhilemanythingsarestudied,fewarestudiedthoroughly.Menwillnottaketimetogettotheheartofamatter.Afterall,concentrationisthepricethemodernstudentpaysforsuccess.Thoroughnessisthemostdifficulthabittoacquire,butitisthepearlofgreatprice,worthalltheworryandtroubleofthesearch.Thedilettantelivesaneasy,butterflylife,knowing

66nothingofthetoilandlaborwithwhichthetreasuresofknowledgearedugoutofthepast,orwrungbypatientresearchinthelaboratories.Take,forexample,theearlyhistoryofthiscountry—howeasyforthestudentoftheonetypetogetasmattering,evenafairlyfullacquaintancewiththeeventsoftheFrenchandSpanishsettlements.Putanoriginaldocumentbeforehim,anditmightaswellbeArabic.Whatweneedistheothertype,themanwhoknowstherecords,who,withabroadoutlookanddrilledinwhatmaybecalledtheembryologyofhistory,hasyetapowerfulvisionfortheminutiæoflife.Itisthesekitchenandbackstairmenwhoaretobeencouraged,themenwhoknowthesubjectinhandinallpossiblerelationships.Concentrationhasitsdrawbacks.Itispossibletobecomesoabsorbedintheproblemofthe“enclitic,”orthestructureoftheflagellaoftheTrichomonas,orofthetoesoftheprehistorichorse,thatthestudentlosesthesenseofproportioninhiswork,andevenwastesalifetimeinresearcheswhicharevaluelessbecausenotintouchwithcurrentknowledge.YourememberpoorCasaubon,in“Middlemarch,”whosepainfulscholarshipwaslostonthisaccount.Thebestpreventivetothisistogetdenationalizedearly.Thetruestudentisacitizenoftheworld,theallegianceofwhosesoul,atanyrate,istooprecioustoberestrictedtoasinglecountry.Thegreatminds,thegreatworkstranscendalllimitationsoftime,oflanguage,andofrace,andthescholarcanneverfeelinitiatedintothecompanyoftheelectuntilhecanapproachalloflife’sproblemsfromthecosmopolitanstandpoint.Icarenotinwhatsubjecthemaywork,thefullknowledgecannotbereachedwithoutdrawingonsuppliesfromlandsotherthanhisown—French,English,German,American,Japanese,Russian,Iralian—theremustbenodiscriminationbytheloyalstudentwhoshouldwillinglydrawfromanyandeverysourcewithanopenmindandasternresolvetorenderuntoalltheirdues.Icarenotonwhatstreamofknowledgehemayembark,followupitscourse,andtherivuletsthatfeeditflowfrommanylands.Iftheworkistobeeffectivehemustkeepintouchwithscholarsinothercountries.Howoftenhasithappenedthatyearsofprecioustimehavebeengiventoaproblemalreadysolvedorshowntobeinsoluble,becauseoftheignoranceofwhathadbeendoneelsewhere.Anditisnotonlybookknowledgeandjournalknowledge,butaknowledgeofmenthatisneeded.Thestudentwill,ifpossible,seethemeninotherlands.Travelnotonlywidensthevisionandgivescertaintiesinplaceofvaguesurmises,butthepersonalcontactwithforeignworkersenableshimtoappreciatebetterthefailingsorsuccessesinhisownlineofwork,perhapstolookwithmorecharitableeyesontheworkofsomebrotherwhoselimitationsandopportunitieshavebeenmorerestrictedthanhisown.Or,incontactwithamastermind,hemaytakefire,andtheglowoftheenthusiasmmaybetheinspirationofhislife.Concentrationmustthenbeassociatedwithlargeviewsontherelationoftheproblem,andaknowledgeofitsstatuselsewhere;otherwiseitmaylandhiminthesloughofaspecialismsonarrowthatithasdepthandnobreadth,orhemaybeledtomakewhathebelievestobeimportantdiscoveries,butwhichhavelongbeencurrentcoininotherlands.Itissadtothink

67thatthedayofthegreatpolymathicstudentisatanend;thatwemay,perhaps,neveragainseeaScaliger,aHaller,oraHumboldt—menwhotookthewholefieldofknowledgefortheirdomainandvieweditasfromapinnacle.Andyetagreatspecializinggeneralistmayarise,whocantell?Sometwentieth-centuryAristotlemaybenowtuggingathisbottle,aslittledreamingasarehisparentsorhisfriendsofaconquestofthemind,besidewhichthewonderfulvictoriesoftheStagiritewilllookpale.Thevalueofareallygreatstudenttothecountryisequaltohalfadozengrainelevatorsoranewtranscontinentalrailway.Heisacommoditysingularlyfickleandvariable,andnottobegrowntoorder.Sofarashisadventisconcernedthereisnotellingwhenorwherehemayarise.Theconditionsseemtobepresentevenunderthemostunlikelyexternals.Someofthegreateststudentsthiscountryhasproducedhavecomefromsmallvillagesandcountryplaces.Itisimpossibletopredictfromastudyoftheenvironment,whicha“strongpropensityofnature,”toquoteMilton’sphraseagain,willeasilybendorbreak.6Thestudentmustbeallowedfullfreedominhiswork,undisturbedbytheutilitarianspiritofthePhilistine,whocries,Cuibono?anddistrustspurescience.Thepresentremarkablepositioninappliedscienceandinindustrialtradesofallsortshasbeenmadepossiblebymenwhodidpioneerworkinchemistry,inphysics,inbiology,andinphysiology,withoutathoughtintheirresearchesofanypracticalapplication.Themembersofthishighergroupofproductivestudentsarerarelyunderstoodbythecommonspirits,whoappreciateaslittletheirunselfishdevotionastheirunworldlyneglectofthepracticalsideoftheproblems.7Everywherenowthemedicalstudentiswelcomedasanhonoredmemberoftheguild.Therewasatime,Iconfess,anditiswithinthememoryofsomeofus,when,likeFalstaff,hewasgivento“tavernsandsackandwineandmetheglins,andtodrinkingsandswearingsandstarings,pribblesandprabbles”;butallthathaschangedwiththecurriculum.Onaccountofthepeculiarcharacterofthesubject-matterofyourstudies,whatIhavesaiduponthegenerallifeandmentalattitudeofthestudentapplieswithtenfoldforcetoyou.Man,withallhismentalandbodilyanomaliesanddiseases—themachineinorder,themachineindisorder,andthebusinessyourstoputittorights.Throughallthephasesofitscareerthismostcomplicatedmechanismofthiswonderfulworldwillbethesubjectofourstudyandofyourcare—thenaked,new-borninfant,theartlesschild,theladandthelassiejustawareofthetreeofknowledgeoverhead,thestrongmanintheprideoflife,thewomanwiththebenedictionofmaternityonherbrow,andtheaged,peacefulinthecontemplationofthepast.Almosteverythinghasbeenrenewedinthescienceandintheartofmedicine,butallthroughthelongcenturiestherehasbeennovariablenessorshadowofchangeintheessentialfeaturesofthelifewhichisourcontemplationandourcare.Thesicklove-childofIsrael’ssweetsinger,theplague-strickenhopesofthegreatAthenianstatesman,Elpenor,bereftofhisbelovedArtemidora,and“Tully’sdaughtermournedsotenderly,”arenotofanyageoranyrace—theyareherewithusto-day,withtheHamlets,theOphelias,andtheLears.

68Amidaneternalheritageofsorrowandsufferingourworkislaid,andthiseternalnoteofsadnesswouldbeinsupportableifthedailytragedieswerenotrelievedbythespectacleoftheheroismanddevotiondisplayedbytheactors.Nothingwillsustainyoumorepotentlythanthepowertorecognizeinyourhumdrumroutine,asperhapsitmaybethought,thetruepoetryoflife—thepoetryofthecommonplace,oftheordinaryman,oftheplain,toilwornwoman,withtheirlovesandtheirjoys,theirsorrowsandtheirgriefs.Thecomedy,too,oflifewillbespreadbeforeyou,andnobodylaughsmoreoftenthanthedoctoratthepranksPuckplaysupontheTitaniasandtheBottomsamonghispatients.Thehumoroussideisreallyalmostasfrequentlyturnedtowardshimasthetragic.Liftuponehandtoheavenandthankyourstarsiftheyhavegivenyouthepropersensetoenableyoutoappreciatetheinconceivablydrollsituationsinwhichwecatchourfellowcreatures.Unhappily,thisisoneofthefreegiftsofthegods,unevenlydistributed,notbestowedonall,oronallinequalportions.Inunduemeasureitisnotwithoutrisk,andinanycaseinthedoctoritisbetterappreciatedbytheeyethanexpressedonthetongue.Hilarityandgoodhumor,abreezycheerfulness,anature“slopingtowardthesouthernside,”asLowellhasit,helpenormouslybothinthestudyandinthepracticeofmedicine.Tomanyofasomberandsourdispositionitishardtomaintaingoodspiritsamidthetrialsandtribulationsoftheday,andyetitisanunpardonablemistaketogoaboutamongpatientswithalongface.8Divideyourattentionsequallybetweenbooksandmen.Thestrengthofthestudentofbooksistositstill—twoorthreehoursatastretch—eatingtheheartoutofasubjectwithpencilandnotebookinhand,determinedtomasterthedetailsandintricacies,focussingallyourenergiesonitsdifficulties.Getaccustomedtotestallsortsofbookproblemsandstatementsforyourself,andtakeaslittleaspossibleontrust.TheHunterian“Donotthink,buttry”attitudeofmindistheimportantonetocultivate.Thequestioncameuponeday,whendiscussingthegroovesleftonthenailsafterfever,howlongittookforthenailtogrowout,fromroottoedge.Amajorityoftheclasshadnofurtherinterest;afewlookeditupinbooks;twomenmarkedtheirnailsattherootwithnitrateofsilver,andafewmonthslaterhadpositiveknowledgeonthesubject.Theyshowedtheproperspirit.Thelittlepointsthatcomeupinyourreadingtrytotestforyourselves.Withonefundamentaldifficultymanyofyouwillhavetocontendfromtheoutset—alackofproperpreparationforreallyhardstudy.Noonecanhavewatchedsuccessivegroupsofyoungmenpassthroughthespecialschoolswithoutprofoundlyregrettingthehaphazard,fragmentarycharacteroftheirpreliminaryeducation.Itdoesseemtoobadthatwecannothaveastudentinhiseighteenthyearsufficientlygroundedinthehumanitiesandinthesciencespreliminarytomedicine—butthisisaneducationalproblemuponwhichonlyaMiltonoraLockecoulddiscoursewithprofit.Withpertinacityyoucanovercomethepreliminarydefectsandoncethoroughlyinterested,theworkinbooksbecomesapastime.Aseriousdrawbackinthestudentlifeistheself-consciousness,bredoftooclosedevotiontobooks.Amangetsshy,“dysopic,”asoldTimothyBrightcallsit,andshuns

69thelooksofmen,andblusheslikeagirl.9Thestrengthofastudentofmenistotravel—tostudymen,theirhabits,character,modeoflife,theirbehaviorundervariedconditions,theirvices,virtues,andpeculiarities.Beginwithacarefulobservationofyourfellowstudentsandofyourteachers;then,everypatientyouseeisalessoninmuchmorethanthemaladyfromwhichhesuffers.Mixasmuchasyoupossiblycanwiththeoutsideworld,andlearnitsways.Cultivatedsystematically,thestudentsocieties,thestudents’union,thegymnasium,andtheoutsidesocialcirclewillenableyoutoconquerthediffidencesoapttogowithbookishnessandwhichmayproveaveryseriousdrawbackinafter-life.Icannottoostronglyimpressupontheearnestandattentivemenamongyouthenecessityofovercomingthisunfortunatefailinginyourstudentdays.Itisnoteasyforeveryonetoreachahappymedium,andthedistinctionbetweenaproperself-confidenceand“cheek,”particularlyinjuniorstudents,isnotalwaystobemade.Thelatterismetwithchieflyamongthestudentpilgrimswho,intravelingdowntheDelectableMountains,havegoneastrayandhavepassedtothelefthand,wherelieththecountryofConceit,thecountryinwhichyourememberthebriskladIgnorancemetChristian.10Iwishwecouldencourageonthiscontinentamongourbeststudentsthehabitofwandering.Idonotknowthatwearequitepreparedforit,asthereisstillgreatdiversityinthecurricula,evenamongtheleadingschools,butitisundoubtedlyagreatadvantagetostudyunderdifferentteachers,asthementalhorizoniswidenedandthesympathiesenlarged.Thepracticewoulddomuchtolessenthatnarrow“IamofPaulandIamofApollos”spiritwhichishostiletothebestinterestsoftheprofession.11ThereismuchthatIwouldliketosayonthequestionofwork,butIcanspareonlyafewmomentsforawordortwo.Whowillventuretosettleuponsosimpleamatterasthebesttimeforwork?Onewilltellusthereisnobesttime;allareequallygood;andtruly,alltimesarethesametoamanwhosesoulisabsorbedinsomegreatproblem.TheotherdayIaskedEdwardMartin,thewell-knownstory-writer,whattimehefoundbestforwork.“Notintheevening,andneverbetweenmeals!”washisanswer,whichmayappealtosomeofmyhearers.Oneworksbestatnight;another,inthemorning;amajorityofthestudentsofthepastfavorthelatter.Erasmus,thegreatexemplar,says,“Neverworkatnight;itdullsthebrainandhurtsthehealth.”Oneday,goingwithGeorgeRossthroughBedlam,Dr.Savage,atthattimethephysicianincharge,remarkedupontwogreatgroupsofpatients—thosewhoweredepressedinthemorningandthosewhowerecheerful,andhesuggestedthatthespiritsroseandfellwiththebodilytemperature—thosewithverylowmorningtemperaturesweredepressed,andviceversa.This,Ibelieve,expressesatruthwhichmayexplaintheextraordinarydifferenceinthehabitsofstudentsinthismatterofthetimewhichthebestworkcanbedone.Outsideoftheasylumtherearealsothetwogreattypes,thestudent-larkwholovestoseethesunrise,whocomestobreakfastwitha

70cheerfulmorningface,neverso“fit”asat6A.M.Weallknowthetype.Whatacontrasttothestudent-owlwithhissaturninemorningface,thoroughlyunhappy,cheatedbythewretchedbreakfastbellofthetwobesthoursofthedayforsleep,noappetite,andpermeatedwithanunspeakablehostilitytohisvis-à-vis,whosemorninggarrulityandgoodhumorareequallyoffensive.Onlygradually,asthedaywearsonandhistemperaturerises,doeshebecomeendurabletohimselfandtoothers.Butseehimreallyawakeat10P.M.whileourblithelarkisinhopelesscomaoverhisbooks,fromwhichitishardtorousehimsufficientlytogethisbootsoffforbed,ourleanowl-friend,Saturnnolongerintheascendant,withbrighteyesandcheeryface,isreadyforfourhoursofanythingyouwish—deepstudy,orHeartaffluenceindiscoursivetalk,andby2A.M.hewillundertaketounspherethespiritofPlato.Inneitheravirtue,inneitherafaultwemustrecognizethesetwotypesofstudents,differentlyconstituted,owingpossibly—thoughIhavebutlittleevidenceforthebelief—tothermalpeculiarities.12Note1.“Theseviews,asusual,pleasedsomemore,otherless;somechidandcalumniatedme,andlaidittomeasacrimethatIhaddaredtodepartfromthepreceptsandopinionsofallAnatomists.”—DeMotuCordis,chap.i.[back]

7113.TheDeclineoftheDramabyStephenLeacockNineteenhundredandtenwasanimportantyear.Halley’scometcamealong,andsomepredictedtheEndoftheWorld.AndStephenLeacock’sfirsthumorousbook—LiteraryLapses—waspublished.Firsthumorousbooks,Isaid,forMr.Leacock—whoisprofessorofpoliticaleconomyatMcGillUniversity,Montreal—hadpublishedhisElementsofPoliticalSciencein1906.ItseemstomethatIhaveheardthatLiteraryLapseswasobscurelyorprivatelypublishedinCanadabefore1910;thatMr.JohnLane,thefamousLondonpublisher,wasgivenacopybysomeoneashegotonasteamertogohometoEngland;thathereaditonthevoyageandcabledanofferforitassoonashelanded.Thisisveryvagueinmymind,butitsoundsprobable.Atanyrate,sincethattimeProfessorLeacock’shumorousvolumeshaveappearedwithgratifyingregularity—NonsenseNovels,BehindtheBeyond,etc.;adsomemoreseriousbookstoo,suchasEssaysandLiteraryStudiesandTheUnsolvedRiddleofSocialJustice.Oneoftheunsolvedriddlesofsocialinjusticeis,whyshouldProfessorLeacockbesomuchmoreamusingthanmostpeople?WeusuallythinkofhimasaCanadian,buthewasborninEnglandin1869.COMINGuphometheothernightinmycar(theGuyStreetcar),Iheardamanwhowashangingontoastrapsay:“Thedramaisjustturningintoabunchoftalk.”Thissetmethinking;andIwasgladthatitdid,becauseIambeingpaidbythispapertothinkonceaweek,anditiswearing.SomedaysIneverthinkfrommorningtillnight.1ThisdeclineofthedramaisathingonwhichIfeeldeeplyandbitterly;forIam,orIhavebeen,somethingofanactormyself.Ihaveonlybeeninamateurwork,Iadmit,butstillIhaveplayedsomemightyinterestingparts.IhaveactedinShakespeareasacitizen,Ihavebeenafairyin“AMidsummerNight’sDream,”andIwasonceoneend(choiceofends)ofacamelinapantomime.Ihavehadotherpartstoo,suchas“AVoiceSpeaksFromWithin,”or“ANoiseIsHeardWithout,”ora“BellRingsFromBehind,”andalotofthingslikethat.IplayedasANoiseforsevennights,beforecrowdedhouseswherepeoplewerebeingturnedawayfromthedoor;andIhavebeenaGroanandaSighandaTumult,andonceIwasa“VisionPassesBeforetheSleeper.”2SowhenItalkofactingandofthespiritoftheDrama,IspeakofwhatIknow.3Naturally,too,Iwasbroughtintocontact,veryoftenintoquiteintimatepersonalcontact,withsomeofthegreatestactorsoftheday.Idon’tsayitinanywayofboasting,butmerelybecausetothoseofuswholovethestagealldramaticsouvenirsareinteresting.Iremember,forexample,thatwhenWilsonBarrettplayed“TheBat”andhadtowearthequeersuitwiththescales,itwasI

72whoputtheglueonhim.4AndIrecallaconversationwithSirHenryIrvingonenightwhenhesaidtome,“Fetchmeaglassofwater,willyou?”andIsaid,“SirHenry,itisnotonlyapleasuretogetitbutitistome,asahumbledevoteeoftheartthatyouhaveennobled,ahighprivilege.Iwillgofurther—”“Do,”hesaid.Henrywaslikethat,quick,sympathetic,whatwecallinFrench“vibrant.”5ForbesRobertsonIshallneverforget:heowesme50cents.AndasforMartinHarvey—IsimplycannotcallhimSirJohn,wearesuchdearoldfriends—henevercomestothistownwithoutatoncecallinginmyservicestolendahandinhisproduction.Nodoubteverybodyknowsthatsplendidplayinwhichheappears,called“TheBreedoftheTreshams.”6Thereisatorturesceneinit,amostgruesomething.Harvey,asthehero,hastobetortured,notonthestageitself,butoffthestageinalittleroomattheside.Youcanhearhimhowlingasheistortured.Well,itwasIwhowastorturinghim.WearesousedtoworkingtogetherthatHarveydidn’twanttoletanybodydoitbutme.7SonaturallyIamakeenfriendandstudentoftheDrama:andIhatetothinkofitgoingalltopieces.8Thetroublewithitisthatitisbecomingameremassofconversationandreflection:nothinghappensinit;theactionisallgoingoutofitandthereisnothingleftbutthought.Whenactorsbegintothink,itistimeforachange.Theyarenotfittedforit.9Nowinmyday—ImeanwhenIwasattheapogeeofmyreputation(Ithinkthatistheword—itmaybeapologee—Iforget)—thingswereverydifferent.Whatwewantedwasaction—striking,climatic,catastrophicaction,inwhichthingsnotonlyhappened,buthappenedsuddenlyandallinalump.10Andwealwaystookcarethattheactionhappenedinsomeplacethatwasworthwhile,notsimplyinanordinaryroomwithordinaryfurniture,thewayitisinthenewdrama.Thescenewaslaidinalighthouse(tostory),orinamadhouse(atmidnight),orinapowerhouse,oradoghouse,orabathhouse,inshort,insomeplacewithadistinctlocalcolorandatmosphere.11IrememberinthecaseofthefirstplayIeverwrote(Iwriteplays,too)themanagertowhomIsubmitteditaskedmeatonce,themomentheglancedatit“Whereistheactionofthislaid?”“Itislaid,”Ianswered,“inthemainsewerofagreatcity.”“Good,good,”hesaid;“keepitthere.”12Inthecaseofanotherplaythemanagersaidtome,“Whatareyoudoingforatmosphere?”“Theopeningact,”Isaid,“isinasteamlaundry.”“Verygood,”heansweredasheturnedoverthepages,“andhaveyoubroughtinacondemnedcell?”ItoldhimthatIhadnot.“That’sratherunfortunate,”hesaid,“becauseweareespeciallyanxioustobringinacondemnedcell.Threeofthebigtheatershavegotthemthisseason,andIthinkweoughttohaveitin.Canyoudoit?”13

73“Yes,”Isaid,“Ican,ifit’swanted.I’lllookthroughthecast,andnodoubtIcanfindoneatleastofthemthatoughttobeputtodeath.”“Yes,yes,”saidthemanagerenthusiastically,“Iamsureyoucan.”14ButIthinkofallthesettingsthatweused,thelighthouseplayswerethebest.Thereissomethingaboutalighthousethatyoudon’tgetinamoderndrawingroom.Whatitis,Idon’tknow;butthere’sadifference.Ialwayshavelikedalighthouseplay,andneverhaveenjoyedactingsomuch,haveneverthrownmyselfintoactingsodeeply,asinaplayofthatsort.15Thereissomethingaboutalighthouse—thewayyouseeitintheearlierscenes—withthelanternshiningoutovertheblackwatersthatsuggestssecurity,fidelity,faithfulness,toatrust.Thestageusedgenerallytobediminthefirstpartoflighthouseplay,andyoucouldseethehuddledfiguresofthefishermenandtheirwivesontheforeshorepointingouttothesea(thebackofthestage).16“See,”onecriedwithhisarmextended,“thereislightninginyonsky.”(Iwasthelightningandthatmycueforit):“Godhelpallthepoorsoulsatseato-night!”Thenawomancried,“Look!Look!aboatuponthereef!”AndasshesaiditIhadtorushroundandworktheboattomakeitgoupanddownproperly.Thentherewasmorelightning,andsomeonescreamedout,“Look!See!there’sawomanintheboat!”17Therewasn’treally;itwasme;butinthedarknessitwasallthesame,andofcoursetheheroineherselfcouldn’tbethereyetbecauseshehadtobedownstairsgettingdressedtobedrowned.Thentheyallcriedout,“Poorsoul!she’sdoomed,”andallthefishermenranupanddownmakinganoise.18Fishermeninthoseplaysusedtogetfearfullyexcited;andwhatwiththeexcitementandthedarknessandthebrightbeamsofthelighthousefallingonthewetoilskins,andthethunderingoftheseauponthereef—ah!me,thosewereplays!Thatwasacting!Andtothinkthatthereisn’tasinglestreakoflightninginanyplayontheboardsthisyear!19Andthenthekindofclimaxthataplaylikethisusedtohave!Thesceneshiftedrightatthemomentoftheexcitement,andlo!weareinthetower,thetopstoryofthelighthouse,interiorscene.Allisstillandquietwithin,withthebrightlightofthereflectorsfloodingthelittleroom,andtheroarofthestormheardlikemuffledthunderoutside.20Thelighthousekeepertrimshislamps.Howfirmandquietandruggedhelooks.Thesnowsofsixtywintersareonhishead,buthiseyeisclearandhisgripstrong.Hearthehowlofthewindasheopensthedoorandstepsforthupontheironbalcony,eightyfeetabovethewater,andpeersoutuponthestorm.21“Godpityallthepoorsoulsatsea!”hesays.(Theyallsaythat.Ifyougetusedtoit,andgettolikeit,youwanttohearitsaid,nomatterhowoftentheysayit.)Thewavesragebeneathhim.(Ithrewitathim,really,buttheeffectwaswonderful.)22

74Andthen,ashecomesinfromthestormtothestillroom,theclimaxbreaks.Amanstaggersintotheroominoilskins,drenched,wet,breathless.(Theyallstaggeredintheseplays,andinthenewdramatheywalk,andtheeffectisfeeblenessitself.)Hepointstothesea.“Aboat!Aboatuponthereef!Withawomaninit.”23Andthelighthousekeeperknowsthatitishisonlydaughter—theonlyonethathehas—whoisbeingcasttodeathuponthereef.Thencomesthedilemma.Theywanthimforthelifeboat;noonecantakeitthroughthesurfbuthim.Youknowthatbecausetheothermansayssohimself.24Butifhegoesintheboatthenthegreatlightwillgoout.Untendeditcannotliveinthestorm.Andifitgoesout—ah!ifitgoesout—askoftheangrywavesandtheresoundingrocksofwhatto-night’slongtollofdeathmustbewithoutthelight!25Iwishyoucouldhaveseenit—youwhoonlyseethedrawing-roomplaysofto-day—thescenewhenthelighthousemandrawshimselfup,calmandresolute,andsays:“Myplaceishere.God’swillbedone.”Andyouknowthatashesaysitandturnsquietlytohislampsagain,theboatisdrifting,atthatverymoment,totherocks.26“Howdidtheysaveher?”Mydearsir,ifyoucanaskthatquestionyoulittleunderstandthedramaasitwas.Saveher?No,ofcoursetheydidn’tsaveher.WhatwewantedintheOldDramawasrealityandforce,nomatterhowwildandtragicitmightbe.Theydidnotsaveher.Theyfoundherthenextday,intheconcludingscene—allthatwasleftofherwhenshewasdashedupontherocks.Herribswerebroken.Herbottomboardshadbeensmashedin,hergunwalewasgone—inshort,shewasawreck.27Thegirl?Oh,yes,certainlytheysavedthegirl.Thatkindofthingwasalwaystakencareof.Youseejustasthelighthousemansaid“God’swillbedone,”hiseyefellonalongcoilofrope,hangingthere.Providential,wasn’tit?ButthenwewerenotashamedtouseProvidenceintheOldDrama.Sohemadeanooseinitandthrewitoverthebalconyandhauledthegirluponit.Iusedtohookherontoiteverynight.28Arottenplay?Oh,Iamsureitmusthavebeen.But,somehow,thoseofuswhowerebroughtuponthatsortofthing,stillsighforit.

7514.AmericaandtheEnglishTraditionbyHarryMorganAyresThisadmirablesummaryofAnglo-Americanhistoryfirstappeared(February,1920)asaneditorialintheWeeklyReview.Itseemedtomethen,andstilldoes,asamodelinthatformofwriting,perfectinlucidity,temperanceandgoodsense.Mr.AyresisamemberofthefacultyofColumbiaUniversity(DepartmentofEnglish)andalsooneoftheeditorsoftheWeeklyReview.Beowulf,Chaucer,ShakespeareandSenecaseemtobehisfavoritehobbies.TosumupthegistofAnglo-Americanrelationsinhalfadozenpages,asMr.Ayresdoeshere,issurelyaremarkableachievement.THERECENTLYestablishedchairinthehistory,literature,andinstitutionsoftheUnitedStateswhichistobesharedamongtheseveraluniversitiesofGreatBritain,isquitedifferentfromtheexchangeprofessorshipsofsometimesunhappymemory.Itisnotatalltheideatocarryoveroneofourprofessorseachyearandindoctrinatehimwiththetruecultureatitssource.Theoccupantofthechairwillbe,iftheannouncedintentioniscarriedout,quiteasoftenBritishasAmerican,andquiteaslikelyapublicmanasaprofessor.ThechiefobjectistobringtoEnglandabetterknowledgeoftheUnitedStates,andapurposemorelaudablecanscarcelybeimagined.PeaceandprosperitywillendureintheworldinsomeverypreciserelationtotheextenttowhichEnglandsucceedsinunderstandingus.1ItisnotanillusiontosupposethatourunderstandingoftheBritishisonthewholebetterthantheirsofus.TheBritishEmpireisalargeandcomparativelysimplefact,nowconspicuouslybeforetheworldforalongtime.TheUnitedStateswas,inBritisheyes,untilrecently,acomparativelyinsignificantfact,yetvastlymorecomplicatedthantheyimagined.Each,ofcourse,perfectlyknewthefaultsoftheother,assessedwithanunerringcousinlyeye.TheAmericanbraggedinanasalwhine,theBritonpatronizedinathroatyburble.Whoeveramongthestrugglingnationsoftheworldmightwin,Englandsawtoitthatsheneverlost;yourYankeewascontentwiththemoreignobletriumphsofmerchandising,willingtocheapenlifeifhecouldonlyaddtohisdollars.ButtheexcellenceofEnglishpoliticalinstitutionsandmethods,thecharmofEnglishlife,thetremendouspoweroftheEmpireforpromotingfreedomandcivilizationintheworld,thesearethingswhichAmericanshavelongrecognizedandinawayunderstood.AnythinglikeanequivalentBritishappreciationofAmericainthelargeseemsconfinedtoaveryfewhonorableexceptionsamongthem.AdmirationforNiagara,whichishalfBritishanyway,orenthusiasmforthe“WildWest”—yourbetter-classEnglishmanalwaysthrillstothefrontier—isnostepatalltowardrightlyappreciatingAmerica.2TonoinconsiderableextentthisisAmerica’sownfault.Shedoesnotpresenttotheworlda

76recordthatiseasilyread.Itisobvious,forinstance—andsoobviousthatitisnotoftenenoughstated—thatAmericahasandwillcontinuetohaveafundamentallyEnglishcivilization.Englishlawisthebasisofherlaw.Englishspeechisherspeech,andifwithadifference,itisadifferencethatthephilologist,allthingsconsidered,findsamazinglysmall.Englishliteratureisherliterature—ChaucerandShakespearehersbecauseherbloodthencoursedindistinguishablythroughtheEnglishhearttheyknewsowell;Milton,Dryden,andtheQueenAnnemenhers,becauseshewasstillapartofEngland;thelatermenhersbyvirtueofaffectionateacquaintanceshipandagenerousandnotinconsiderablerivalry.Englishhistory,inshort,isherhistory.Thestrugglesofthethirteenthcenturythroughwhichlawandparliamentcameintobeing,thestrugglesoftheseventeenthcenturythroughwhichlawandparliamentcametorule,areAmerica’sstrugglesuponwhichshecanlookbackwiththesatisfactionthatsomethingsthathavebeendoneintheworldneedneverbeundoneordoneoveragain,whatevertheroomforimprovementmaystillbe.Americans,nolessthanBritish,recognizethatindependencewaslargelyanaccidentalresultofawarwhichsprangoutofafalsetheoryofeconomics,butwhoseconclusioncarriedwithitalessoninthemanagementofempirewhichsubsequenthistoryshowstheBritishtohavelearnedthoroughlyandforthebenefitofallconcerned.Americanindependence,however,onceestablished,pointedawaytodemocraticfreedomwhichEnglandhastenedtofollow.Thisweknow.Andyet—3Andyetweallowtheseobviousandfundamentalconsiderationstobecomemarvelouslyobscured.WeallowEngland’sfailuretosolveaninsolubleIrishproblemtoarouseinusanattitudeofmindpossiblyexcusableinsomeIrishmen,butwhollyinexcusableinanyAmerican.WeallowasentimentalregardforsomeimmigrantfromEasternEurope,whocomestouswithaphilosophybornofconditionsthatinEnglish-speakinglandsceasedtobecenturiesago,tomakeuspretendtoseeinhimthetrueexpressionofAmerica’straditionalideals.Weallowourselvestobefartooeasywiththephrase,“Heisnotpro-German,heismerelyanti-British.”Whyaretheyanti-British?WhyshouldtheybepermittedtomakeitfalselyappearthatrecognitionoftheEnglishbasisofAmericainvolvesapprovalofeverythingthatEnglandinherhistorymayormaynothavedone?WhyshouldtheybeallowedtopretendthatdisapprovalofsomeparticularactofEnglandjustifiesrepudiationofmostofthethingsbyvirtueofwhichwearewhatweare?AmericafromthefirsthasbeenpartofthegreatEnglishexperiment—greatbecauseitiscapableoflearningfromexperience.4Theworldhasputabiginvestmentinbloodandtreasure,andallthattheyimply,intotheeducationofEngland.Itissatisfied—theworld’sresponsetoGeermany’insolentchallengeistheproofofit—thatitspainshavebeenwellbestowed.Englandismorenearlyfitthananyothernationtowieldthepowerthatishers.Thatisnottodenythepeculiarvirtuesofothernations;indeed,thesevirtueshavelargelycontributedtotheresult.Italyhaseducatedher;Francehas

77educatedher;wehavedonesomething;andGermany.Inresult,sheisnotperfect—theEnglishwouldperhapsleastofallassertthat—butshehaslearnedagreatdealandheldherselfsteadywhileshelearnedit.Itisabiggerjobthantheworldcarestoundertaketoteachanyothernationsomuch.Norwoulditbeatalllikelytosucceedsowell.ForwhatEnglandhastooffertheworldinreturnisnotsimplyherinstitutions;itisnotmerelyaformulafortheeffectivedischargeofpolicedutythroughouttheworld;itistheEnglishfreeman,whetherhehailfromCanada,Australia,Africa,ortheuttermostislesofthesea.5Amostadaptablefellow,thisfreeman,doingallsortsofworkeverywhere,andwithtremendouspowersofassimilation.Considerhiminhisorigins.HebeganbyassimilatingfullyhisownweightinDanes,whileremaininganEnglishfreeman.HethenperforceacceptedaNormanKing,ashehadacceptedaDanishone,hoping,asalways,thatthekindwouldnottroublehimtoomuch.ButwhenNormanWilliam,whowasveryill-informedaboutthebreed,killedoffmostofhisnaturalleadersandharriedtherestintovillainy,howdidhemanageinasmallmatteroftwohundredyearsorsotomakeanEnglishgentlemannotonlyofhimselfbutofalltherag-tagofadventurerswhohadcomeoverwithWilliamandsince?Howdidhecontrive,outofabandofexilesfleeingfromanEgyptofecclesiasticaltyranny,brokenyoungersons,artisansoutofajob,speculators,bondmen,Swedes,Dutchmen,andwhatnot,tomakeAmerica?IsheonelikelytolosehisbearingswheninhisAmericatheage-oldproblemagainheavesinview?Thisisajobhehasbeenworkingatprettysuccessfullyformorethanathousandyears.Granthimamomenttorealizehimselfafreshinthefaceofit.Don’texpecthimtostopandgiveacoherentexplanationofwhatheisdoing.Hewouldn’tbethetruesonoftheEnglishtraditionthatheisifhecoulddothat.Perhapstheoccupantsofthenewchaircandosomethingofthesortforhim.

7815.TheRussianQuarterbyThomasBurkeThomasBurke,ayoungnewspapermaninLondon,cameintoquickrecognitionwithhisfirstbook,NightsinTown(publishedinAmericaasNightsinLondon)in1915.Hisfirstreallypopularsuccess,however,wasLimehouseNights,lesssatisfactorytothosewhohadreadthefirstbook,asitwaslargelyarepetitionofthesamematerialinfictionform.(Infact,Mr.Burkeholdswhatmustbealmostarecordamongauthorsbyhavingworkedovernearlytheidenticalsubstanceinfourdifferentversions—asessaysandsketches,inNightsinTown;asshortstories,inLimehouseNights;asanovel,inTwinkletoes;aspoetry,inTheSongBookofQuongLeeofLimehouse.)Mr.BurkehasspecializedonLondon,andwithgreatability.IntheLimehouseserieshiscoloringsseemjustalittletooconsciouslyvivid,hisroguishnessalittletoostudied,tobequitesatisfying.TheOuterCircle,avolumeoframblesintheLondonsuburbs,istomemoretrulyaworkofart.IHADknownthequarterformanyyearsbeforeitinterestedme.ItwasnotuntilIwasprowlingaroundonaFleetStreetassignmentthatIlearnedtohateit.AmurderhadbeencommittedoveracaféinLupinStreet;apopularmurder,fruity,cleverlydone,andwithasexinterest.Ofcourseeverynewspaperandagencydevelopedavirtuousanxietytotracktheculprit,andallresourcesweredirectedtothatend.Journalismisperhapstheonlyprofessioninwhichsofineapublicspiritmaybefound.SoitwasthattheNorthCountrypaperofwhichIwasahanger-onflungeveryavailablemanintothefightingline,andtheeditortoldmethatImight,inplaceofthecasualparagraphsfortheLondonLetter,dosomethinggoodontheVassiloffmurder.1Itwasanightofcoldrain,andthepavementsweredashedwithsmearsoflightfromtheshopwindows.Throughthestreamingstreetsmyhansomleaped;andasIlookedfromthewindow,andnotedthedespondentbiliousnessofBethanalGreen,Irealizedthatthegrasswithereth,theflowerfadeth.2IdismissedthecabatBrickLane,and,continuingthetraditionwhichhadbeeninstilledintomebymypredecessorontheLondonLetter,Iturnedintooneofthehostelriesandhadavodkatokeepthecoldout.LittleRussiawasshuttingup.Theoldshawledwomen,whositateverycornerwithhugebasketsofblackbreadandsweetcakes,weredepartingbeneathumbrellas.ThestallsofOsbornStreet,usuallydressedwithforeign-lookingconfectionery,werealsoretiring.Indeed,everybodyseemedtobeslinkingaway,andasIsippedmyvodka,andfeltitburnmewithrawfire,Icursednewseditorsandallpublicswhichdesiredtoreadaboutmurders.IwasperfectlysurethatIshouldn’tdotheleastgood;soIhadanother,andgazedthroughthekaleidoscopicwindow,rushingwithrain,atthecheerfulworldthatheldme.3

79Oh,sosaditis,thisquarter!Bydaythestreetsareadepression,withtheirfrowzydoss-housesandtheirvapo-baths.Grayandsicklyisthelight.Grayandsickly,too,aretheleeringshops,andgrayandsicklyarethepeopleandthechildren.Everythinghasfollowedthegrassandtheflowers.Childhoodhasnoplace;soabovetheroofsyoumayseethesurlypointsofaCouncilSchool.Suchgamesashappenareplayedbutlistlessly,andeachlittlefaceissmirched.Thegauntwarehouseshardlysupporttheirloppingheads,andthelow,beetling,gabledhousesofthealleysseemforevertobroodonnightsofbitteradventure.Fitobjectsforcontemptbydaytheymaybe,butwhennightcreepsuponLondon,thehideousdarknessthatcanalmostbetouched,thentheirfacesbecomeverypowersofterror,andthecautioussoul,wanderedfromthecomfortofthemainstreets,walksandwalksinafrenzy,seekingoutletandfindingnone.Sometimesahoarselaughwillbreaksharponhisear.Thenheruns.4Well,Ifinishedmysecond,andthensaunteredout.AsIwaspassingacruel-lookingpassage,agirlsteppedforward.Shelookedatme.Ilookedather.ShehadthehauntingmelancholyofRussiainherface,buthervoicewasasthevoiceofCockaigne.Forshespokeandsaid:—5“Funny-lookinglittleguy,ain’tyou?”6IsupposeIwas.SoIsmiledandsaid:“WeareasGodmadeus,oldgirl.”7Shegiggled.…8IsaidIfeltsureIshoulddonogoodontheVassiloffmurder.Ididn’t.Forjustthentwoofherfriendscameoutofthecourt,eachwithaboy.Itwasapparentthatshehadnoboy.Ihadnoideawhattheoccasionmightbe,buttheotherfourmarchedahead,crying,“Comeon!”And,surprised,yetknowingofnogoodreasonforbeingsurprised,Ifeltthegirl’sarmslipintomine,andwejoinedthemaincolumn.…9ThatisoneofLondon’sgreatestcharms:itisalwaysreadytotossyoulittleencountersofthissort,ifyouareoutforthem.10Acrosstheroadwewent,throughmireandpuddle,anddownalong,windingcourt.Ataboutmidwayourfriendsdisappeared,and,suddenlydrawntotheright,Iwaspushedfrombehindupasteep,fustystair.ThenIknewwhereweweregoing.WeweregoingtothetenementswheremostoftheRussiansmeetofanevening.Theatmosphereintheseplacesisalittlemorecheerfulthanthatofthecafé—ifyoucanimagineaRussianeverrisingtocheerfulness.Mostofthegirlslodgeoverthemilliners’shops,andthithertheirfriendsresort.Everyestablishmentherehasapiano,formusic,withthem,isasomberpassionratherthanadiversion.Youwillnothearcomicopera,butifyouwanttoclimbthelostheightsofmelody,standinBellYard,andlistentoapiano,lostinthehighglooms,wailingtheheartofChopin,orRubinsteinorGlazounoffthroughthefingersofpale,moistgirls,whiletheghostofPeterthePainterparadesthenaphtha’dhighways.11AtthetopofthestairIwaspushedintoadark,fustyroom,andguidedtoalow,fustysofaorbed.Thensomeonestruckamatch,andalampwaslitandsetonthemantelshelf.Itflungasoft,

80caressingradianceonitsshabbyhome,andonitsmistress,andontheothergirlsandboys.Theboysweretoughyoungstersofthedistrict,evidentlyverymuchathome,smokingRussiancigarettesandsettlingthemselvesonthebedinamannerthatseemedcuriouslycontinentalinCockneytoughs.Idoubtifyouwouldhavelovedthegirlsatthatmoment;andyet…youknow…theirblackorbrassyhair,theiruntidiness,andthecottonblouseshalf-droppedfromtheirtumultuousbreasts.…12Thegirlwhohadcollaredmedisappearedforamoment,andthenbroughtatrayofRussiantea.“Help’selves,boys!”Wedidso,and,watchingtheothers,Idiscoveredthatitwasthecorrectthingtolemontheladies’teaforthemandstiritwellandlighttheircigarettes.IdidsoforKatarina—thatwashername—whileshewatchedmewithlittletruantlocksofhairrunningeverywhere,andaslow,alluringsmilethatseemedtoholdalltheagonyandmysteryofthesteppes.13Theroom,onwhichthewallpaperhungindankstrips,containedafull-sizedbedandachairbedstead,awashstand,asamovar,apotpourriofacarpet,andcertainmysteriesoffemininetoilet.Aricketythree-leggedtablestoodbythewindow,andKatarina’srobeshunginadaintyriotoffrillandcolorbehindthedoor,whichonlyshutwhenyouthrustapegofwoodthroughawiredcatch.14Oneoftheboyssprawledhimself,inclumsyluxury,onthebed,andhisgirlarrangedherselfathisside,andwhenshewassettledherhairtumbledinashowerofhairpins,andeverybodylaughedlikechildren.Theothergirlwenttothepiano,andherboysquatttedontheflooratherfeet.15Shebegantoplay.…Youwouldnotunderstand,Isuppose,theintellectualemotionofthesituation.Itismorethancurioustositintheserooms,inthefilthiestspotinLondon,andlistentoMoszkowsky,Tchaikowsky,andSibelius,playedbyafactorygirl.Itis…somethingindefinable.IhadvisitedsimilarplacesinStepneybefore,butthenIhadnothadacoupleofvodkas,andIhadnotbeentakenintowbyanunknowngirl.Theyplayandplay,whileteaandcigarettes,andsometimesvodkaorwhisky,goround;andastheroomgetswarmer.Sodoesone’ssenseofsmellgetsharper;sodothepalefacesgetmoister;andsodoesonelonemoreandmoreforabreathofcoldairfromtheUralMountains.Thebestyoucandoistoascendtotheflatroof,andtakeadeepbreathofSpitalifieldsozone.Thenbacktotheroomformoreteaandmoremusic.16Sanyaplayed.…Despitetheunventilatedroom,thegreasyappointments,andotherdetailsthatwouldhaveturnedthestomachofKensington,thatgirlatthepiano,herdresscunninglydisarranged,playing,asnoonewouldhavedreamedshecouldplay,thefinerintensitiesofWieniawskiandMoussorgsky,shookallsenseofresponsibilityfromme.Theburdensoflifevanished.Newseditorsandtheirassignmentsbedamned.Enjoyyourself,waswhatthecold,insidiousmusicsaid.Takeyourmomentswhenthefatessendthem;thatwaslife’sbestlesson.

81Snatchthejoyofthefleetingmoment.Whyponderontimeandtears?17Devilishlittlefingerstheywere,Sanya’s.Hertechniquewasnotperhapsallthatitmighthavebeen;shemightnothavewontheGoldMedalofourwhiteshirtedacademies,butshehadenoughtemperamenttomakehalfadozenBechsteinHallvirtuosi.Fromvalsetonocturne,fromsonatatoprelude,herfancyran.Withcrashingchordsshedroppedfrom“L’AutomneBacchanale”totheNocturneinEflat;scarcelymurmuredofthat,thentrippedelvishlyintoMoszkowsky’sWaltz,andfromthatshedroppedtoasongofTchaikowsky,almostheartbreakinginitschildishbeauty,andthentothelecherousmusicofthesecondactof“Tristan.”Mazurka,polonaise,andnocturnewailedinthestuffychamber;herlittlehandslituptheenchantedgloomoftheplacewithbrightthrills,untilthebedandthedingysurroundingsfadedintophantomsandleftonlytwostartledsoulsincolloquy:Katarina’sandmine.18Katarinahadsettled,Iforgethow,onthesofa,andwasrecliningverycomfortablywithherheadonmyshoulderandbotharmsaboutme.Wedidnottalk.Noquestionspassedastowhywehadpickedoneanotherup.Therewewere,warmedwithvodkaandtea,ateleveno’clockatnight,fivestoriesabovetheclamorousworld,whileherfriendshookthesillysoulsoutofus.Withtheshyboldnessofmynativecountry,Istretchedahandandinclosedherfingers.Shesmiled;acurioussmilethatnoothergirlinLondoncouldhavegiven;notaflushedsmile,orastartledsmile,orasatisfiedsmile,oracoysmile;butasmileofcompanionship,whichseemedtohaverealizedthetragedyofourliving.Soitwasthatshehad,byslowstages,reachedhercomfortableposition,forasmyhandwanderedfromfingertowrist,fromwristtosoft,roundedarm,andsoinclosedherneck,sheslippedandburiedmeinanavalancheofflaming,scentedtresses.19Sanyaatthepianoshotaglanceoverhershoulder,averysad-gayglance;shelaughed,curiously,Ialmostsaidforeignly.IfeltsomehowasthoughIhadbeentakencompletepossessionofbythesepeople.Ihardlybelongedtomyself.FleetStreetwasbutastreetofdream.Iseemednowtobeawakeandinanadorablecaptivity.20Withafinalvolleyofchords,thepianistslidfromthechair,andsatbyherboyonthecarpet,smoothinghisfacewithtobacco-stainedfingers,andlanguishingwhileherthick,over-ripelipstookhiskissesasababybirdtakesfoodfromitsmother.21Wetalked—allofus—injerksandsnatches.Thentheoilinthelampbegantogiveout,andtheroomgrewdim.Someonesaid:“Playsomething!”Andsomeonesaid:“Tootired!”Thegirlrecliningonthebedgrewsnappy.Shedidnotleanforcaresses.Sheseemedmorose,preoccupied,almostimpatient.Twiceshesnappedupherboyonacasualremark.IbelieveItalkedvodka’dnonsense.…22Butsuddenlytherecameawhisperofsoftfeetonthelanding,andasecrettapatthedoor.Someoneopenedit,andslippedout.Oneheardthelazyhumofvoicesinbusyconversation.Thensilence;andsomeoneenteredtheroomandshutthedoor.Oneoftheboysasked,casually,

82“What’sup?”Hisquestionwasnotanswered,butthegirlwhohadgonetothedoorsnappedsomethinginasharptonewhichmighthavebeeneitherRussianorYiddish.Katarinaloosenedherselffromme,andsatup.Thegirlonthebedsatup.Thethreeofthemspatangryphrasesabout,Icalledovertooneoftheboys:“What’sthejoke?AnythingWrong?”andreceivedareply:“Ownshdiknow?Iain’taruddyRussian,amI?”23Katarinasuddenlydrewbackherflamingface.“Here,”shesaid,“youbettergo.”24“Go?”25“Yes—fathead!Go’swhatIsaid.”26“But—”Ibegan,lookingandfeelinglikeaflabbergastedcat.27“Don’tIspeakplain?Go!”28Isupposeamanneverfeelsafineridiotthanwhenawomantellshimshedoesn’twanthim.Ifheeverdoes,itiswhenawomantellshimthatsheloveshim.Katarinahadgivenmethebullet,and,ofcourse,Ifeltafool;butIderivedsomeconsolationfromthefactthattheotherboyswerebeingtoldoff.Clearly,bigthingswereintheair,abouttohappen.Something,evidently,hadalreadyhappened.Iwondered.…ThenIsatdownonthesofa,andflatlytoldKatarinathatIwasnotgoingunlessIhadareason.29“Oh,”shesaid,blithely,“ain’tyou?Thisismyroom,ain’tit?Ibroughtyouhere,andyoustayherejustaslongasIchoose,andnolonger.Whod’youthinkyouare,sayingyouwon’tgo?Thisismyroom.Iletyoucomehereforadrink,andyoujustgottogowhenIsay.See?”30Iwasabouttomakeasecondstand,whenagaintherecameastealthytapatthedoor,andthewhisperingofslipperedfeet.Sanyaglidedtothedoor,openedit,anddisappeared.Inamomentshecameback,andcalled,“’Rina!”Katarinaslippedfrommyembrace,wenttothedoor,anddisappearedtoo.Onegirlandthreeboysremained—insilence.31NextmomentKatarinareappeared,andsaidsomethingtoSanya.Sanyapulledherboybythearm,andwentout.Theothergirlpushedherboyattheneckandliterallythrewhimout.Katarinacameovertome,andsaid:“Go,littlefool!”32Isaid:“Shan’tunlessIknowwhatthegameis.”33Shestoodoverme;glared;searchedforwordstomeettheoccasion;foundnone.Shegestured.Isatasrigidasanimmobilecomedian.Finally,sheflungherarms,andsweptaway.Atthedoorsheturned;“Blastedlittlefool!He’lldousbothinify’ain’tcareful.Youdon’tknowhim.Bothofushe’llhave.Serveyehright.”34Shedisappeared.Iwasalone.Iheardthesup-supofherslipperedfeetdownthestair.35Igotup,andmovedtothedoor.Iheardnothing.Istoodbythewindow,mythoughtsdancingaragtime.Iwonderedwhattodo,andhow,andwhether.Iwonderedwhatwasupexactly.Iwondered…well,Ijustwondered.Mythoughtsgotintoatangle,sank,andswam,andsankagain.Thentherewasasuddenstruggleandspurtfromthelamp,anditwentblackout.Froma

83roomacrossthelandingaclocktickedmenacingly.Isaw,bythethinlightfromthewindow,thesmokeofadiscardedcigarettecurlingupanduptotheceilinglikeasnake.36Iwentagaintothedoor,peereddownthesteepstairandoverthecrazybalustrade.Nobodywasabout;novoices.Islippedswiftlydownthefiveflights,metnobody.Istoodintheslobberedvestibule.FromafarIheardthesluckofthewatersagainstthestaplesofthewharves,andthewickedhootofthetugs.37Itwasthenthatasuddennamelessfearseizedme;itwasthatsimpleterrorthatcomesfromnothingbutourselves.Iamnotusuallyafraidofanymanorthing.Iamnormallynervous,andtherearethreeorfourthingsthathavepowertoterrifyme.ButIamnot,Ithink,afraid.Atthatmoment,however,Iwasafraidofeverything:oftheroomIhadleft,ofthehouse,ofthepeople,oftheinvitinglightsofthewarehousesandthethreateningshoalsofthealleys.38Istoodamomentlonger.ThenIracedintoBrickLane,andoutintothebrillianceofCommercialStreet.39

8416.AWordforAutumnbyA.A.MilneThisisthesortofurbanepleasantryinwhichBritishessayistsareprolificandgraceful.AlanAlexanderMilnewasbornin1882,wenttoTrinityCollege,Cambridge;waseditorofTheGranta(theleadingundergraduatepublicationatCambridgeatthattime);andplungedintothegreatwhirlpoolofLondonjournalism.HewasonthestaffofPunch,1906–14.Hehasnowcollectedseveralvolumesofcharmingessays,andhashadconsiderablesuccessasaplaywright:hiscomedy,Mr.PimPassesBy,recentlyplayedaprosperousruninNewYork.“AWordforAutumn”isfromhisvolumeNotThatItMatters.LASTnightthewaiterputtheceleryonwiththecheese,andIknewthatsummerwasindeeddead.Othersignsofautumntheremaybe—thereddeningleaf,thechillintheearly-morningair,themistyevenings—butnoneofthesecomeshometomesotruly.TheremaybecoolmorningsinJuly;inayearofdroughttheleavesmaychangebeforetheirtime;itisonlywiththefirstcelerythatsummerisover.1Iknewallalongthatitwouldnotlast.EveninAprilIwassayingthatwinterwouldsoonbehere.Yetsomehowithadbeguntoseempossiblelatelythatamiraclemighthappen,thatsummermightdriftonandonthroughthemonths—afinalupheavaltocrownawonderfulyear.Thecelerysettledthat.Lastnightwiththeceleryautumncameintoitsown.2ThereisacrispnessaboutcelerythatisoftheessenceofOctober.Itisasfreshandcleanasarainydayafteraspellofheat.Itcracklespleasantlyinthemouth.Moreoveritisexcellent,Iamtold,forthecomplexion.Oneisalwayshearingofthingswhicharegoodforthecomplexion,butthereisnodoubtthatcelerystandshighonthelist.Aftertheburnsandfrecklesofsummeroneisinneedofsomething.Howgoodthatceleryshouldbethereatone’selbow.3Aweekago—(“Alittlemorecheese,waiter”)—aweekagoIgrievedforthedyingsummer.IwonderedhowIcouldpossiblybearthewaiting—theeightlongmonthstillMay.InvaintocomfortmyselfwiththethoughtthatIcouldgetthroughmoreworkinthewinterundistractedbythoughtsofcricketgroundsandcountryhouses.Invain,equally,totellmyselfthatIcouldstayinbedlaterinthemornings.Eventhethoughtofafter-breakfastpipesinfrontofthefireleftmecold.Butnow,suddenly,Iamreconciledtoautumn.Iseequiteclearlythatallgoodthingsmustcometoanend.Thesummerhasbeensplendid,butithaslastedlongenough.ThismorningIwelcomedthechillintheair;thismorningIviewedthefallingleaveswithcheerfulness;andthismorningIsaidtomyself,“Why,ofcourse,I’llhaveceleryforlunch.”(“Morebread,waiter.”)4“Seasonofmistsandmellowfruitfulness,”saidKeats,notactuallypickingoutceleryinsomanywords,butplainlyincludingitinthegeneralblessingsoftheautumn.Yetwhatan

85opportunityhemissedbynotconcentratingonthatpreciousroot.Apples,grapes,nuts,andvegetablemarrowshementionsspecially—andhowpooraselection!Forapplesandgrapesarenottypicalofanymonth,soubiquitousarethey,vegetablemarrowsarevegetablespourrireandhavenoplaceinanyseriousconsiderationoftheseasons,whileasfornuts,havewenotanationalsongwhichassertsdistinctly,“HerewegogatheringnutsinMay”?Seasonofmistsandmellowcelery,thenletitbe.Apatofbutterunderneaththebough,awedgeofcheese,aloafofbreadand—Thou.5Howdelicatearethetendershootsunfoldedlayerbylayer.Ofwhatawhitenessisthelastbabyoneofall,ofwhatasweetnesshisflavor.Itiswellthatthisshouldbethelastriteofthemeal—finiscoronatopus—sothatwemaygostraightontothebusinessofthepipe.Celerydemandsapiperatherthanacigar,anditcanbeeatenbetterinaninnoraLondontavernthaninthehome.Yes,anditshouldbeeatenalone,foritistheonlyfoodwhichonereallywantstohearoneselfeat.Besides,incompanyonemayhavetoconsiderthewantsofothers.Celeryisnotathingtosharewithanyman.Aloneinyourcountryinnyoumaycallforthecelery;butifyouarewiseyouwillseethannoothertravelerwandersintotheroom,Takewarningfromonewhohaslearntalesson.OnedayIlunchedaloneataninn,finishingwithcheeseandcelery.Anothertravelercameinandlunchedtoo.Wedidnotspeak—Iwasbusywithmycelery.Fromtheotherendofthetablehereachedacrossforthecheese.Thatwasallright!itwasthepubliccheese.Buthealsoreachedacrossforthecelery—myprivateceleryforwhichIowed.Foolishly—youknowhowonedoes—Ihadleftthesweetestandcrispestshootstillthelast,tantalizingmyselfpleasantlywiththethoughtofthem.Horror!toseethemsnatchedfrommebyastranger.Herealizedlaterwhathehaddoneandapologized,butofwhatgoodisanapologyinsuchcircumstances?Yetatleastthetragedywasnotwithoutitsvalue.Nowonerememberstolockthedoor.6Yet,Icanfacethewinterwithcalm.IsupposeIhadforgottenwhatitwasreallylike.Ihadbeenthinkingofthewinterasahorridwet,drearytimefitonlyforprofessionalfootball.NowIcanseeotherthings—crispandsparklingdays,longpleasantevenings,cheeryfires.Goodworkshallbedonethiswinter.Lifeshallbelivedwell.Theendofthesummerisnottheendoftheworld.Here’stoOctober—and,waiter,somemorecelery.

8617.“AClergyman”byMaxBeerbohmMaxBeerbohm,Idaresay(andIbelieveithasbeensaidbefore),isthemostsubtlygiftedEnglishessayistsinceCharlesLamb.Itisnotsurprisingthathehas(nowformanyyears)beenreferredtoas“theincomparableMax,”forwhatothercontemporaryhasneveroncemissedfire,neverfailedtoachieveperfectioninthefieldofhischoice?Whetherincaricature,shortstory,fable,parody,oressay,hehasalwaysbeenconsummateingrace,tact,insouciantairyprecision.Ihopeyouwillnotmiss“No.2ThePines”(inAndEvenNow,fromwhichthisselectionalsocomes),areminiscenceofhisfirstvisittoSwinburnein1899.Thatbeautiful(thereisnootherword)essayshowsanevenamplerrangeofMr.Beerbohm’spowers:atendernessandlovelygracethatremindone,almostagainstbelief,thatthegayyouthofthe’90’snowmellowsdeliciouslywiththeendofthefifthdecade.Hewassoenormouslyoldin1896,whenhepublishedhisfirstbookandcalledithisWorks;heseemsmuchyoungernow:heishavinghisfirstchildhood.ThisportraitoftheunfortunateclericannihilatedbyDr.Johnsonisatriumphantexampleoftheskillwithwhichaperfectartistcanmaneuveratrifle,carvedlikeandivorytrinket;insuchhands,subtletyneverbecomesmeretenacity.MaxBeerbohmwasborninLondonin1872;studiedatCharterhouseSchoolandMertonCollege,Oxford;andwasabrilliantfigureintheSavoyandYellowBookcirclesbythetimehewastwenty-four.Hisgeniusisthatoftheessayinitspurestdistillation:aclearcross-sectionoflifeasseenthroughthelensofself;thepureculture(inthebiologicalsense)ofobservingpersonality.Ihaveoftenwonderedhowitcameabout(thoughthematteriswhollynopertinent)thatMr.BeerbohmmarriedanAmericanlady—quiteahabitwithEnglishessayists,bytheway:HillarieBellocandBertrandRusselldidlikewise.Who’sWhosaysshewasfromMemphis,whichaddslustertothatadmirablecity.HenowlivesinItaly.FRAGMENTARY,pale,momentary;almostnothing;glimpsedandgone;asitwere,afainthumanhandthrustup,nevertoreappear,frombeneaththerollingwatersofTime,heforeverhauntsmymemoryandsolicitsmyweakimagination.Nothingistoldofhimbutthatonce,abruptly,heaskedaquestion,andreceivedananswer.1ThiswasontheafternoonofApril7th,1778,atStratham,inthewell-appointedhouseofMr.Thrale.Johnson,onthemorningofthatday,hadentertainedBoswellatbreakfastinBoltCourt,andinvitedhimtodineatThraleHall.Thetwotookcoachandarrivedearly.ItseemsthatSirJohnPringlehadaskedBoswelltoaskJohnson“whatwerethebestEnglishsermonsforstyle.”In

87theintervalbeforedinner,accordingly,Boswellreeledoffthenamesofseveraldivineswhoseprosemightormightnotwincommendation.“Atterbury?”hesuggested.“JOHNSON:Yes,Sir,oneofthebest.BOSWELL:Tillotson?JOHNSON:Why,notnow.IshouldnotadviseanyonetoimitateTillotson’sstyle;thoughIdon’tknow;Ishouldbecautiousofcensuringanythingthathasbeenapplaudedbysomanysuffrages.—Southisoneofthebest,ifyouexcepthispeculiarities,andhisviolence,andsometimescoarsenessoflanguage.—Seedhasaveryfinestyle;butheisnotverytheological.Jortin’ssermonsareveryelegant.Sherlock’sstyle,too,isveryelegant,thoughhehasnotmadeithisprincipalstudy.—AndyoumayaddSmalridge.BOSWELL:IlikeOgden’sSermonsonPrayerverymuch,bothforneatnessofstyleandsubtilityofreasoning.JOHNSON:IshouldliketoreadallthatOgdenhaswritten.BOSWELL:WhatIwanttoknowis,whatsermonsaffordthebestspecimenofEnglishpulpiteloquence.”JOHNSON:Wehavenosermonsaddressedtothepassions,thataregoodforanything;ifyoumeanthatkindofeloquence.ACLERGYMAN,whosenameIdonotrecollect:WerenotDodd’ssermonsaddressedtothepassions?JOHNSON:Theywerenothing,Sir,betheyaddressedtowhattheymay.”2Thesuddennessofit!Bang!—andtherabbitthathadpoppedfromitsburrowwasnomore.3Iknownotwhichisthemorestartling—thedébutoftheunfortunateclergyman,ortheinstantaneousnessofhisend.Whyhadn’tBoswelltoldustherewasaclergymanpresent?Well,wemaybesurethatsocarefulandacuteanartisthadsomegoodreason.AndIsupposetheclergymanwaslefttotakeusunawaresbecausejustsodidhetakethecompany.Hadwebeentoldhewasthere,wemighthaveexpectedthatsoonerorlaterhewouldjoinintheconversation.Hewouldhavehadaplaceinourminds.WemayassumethatinthemindsofthecompanyaroundJohnsonhehadnoplace.Hesatforgotten,overlooked;sothathisself-assertionstartledeveryonejustasonBoswell’spageitstartlesus.InJohnson’smassiveandmagneticpresenceonlysomeveryremarkableman,suchasMr.Burke,wassharplydistinguishablefromtherest.Othersmight,iftheyhadsomethinginthem,standoutslightly.Thisunfortunateclergymanmayhavehadsomethinginhim,butIjudgethathelackedthegiftofseemingasifhehad.Thatdeficiency,however,doesnotaccountforthehorridfatethatbefellhim.OneofJohnson’sstrongestandmostinveteratefeelingswashisvenerationfortheCloth.ToanyoneinHolyOrdershehabituallylistenedwithagraceandcharmingdeference.To-day,moreover,hewasinexcellentgoodhumor.HewasattheThrales’,wherehesolovedtobe;thedaywasfine;afinedinnerwasincloseprospect;andhehadhadwhathealwaysdeclaredtobethesumofhumanfelicity—arideinacoach.Norwasthereinthequestionputbytheclergymananythinglikelytoenragehim.DoddwasonewhomJohnsonhadbefriendedinadversity;andithadalwaysbeenagreedthatDoddinhispulpitwasveryemotional.Whatdrewtheblastingflashmusthavebeennotthequestionitself,butthemannerinwhichitwasasked.AndIthinkwecanguesswhatthat

88mannerwas.4Saythewordsaloud:“WerenotDodd’ssermonsaddressedtothepassions?”Theyarewordswhich,ifyouhaveanydramaticandhistrionicsense,cannotbesaidexceptinahigh,thinvoice.5Youmay,fromsheerperversity,uttertheminarichandsonorousbaritoneorbass.Butifyoudoso,theysoundutterlyunnatural.Tomakethemcarrytheconvictionofhumanutterance,youhavenochoice:youmustpipethem.6Remember,now,Johnsonwasverydeaf.Eventhepeoplewhomheknewwell,thepeopletowhosevoiceshewasaccustomed,hadtoaddresshimveryloudly.Itisprobablethatthisunregarded,young,shyclergyman,whenatlengthhesuddenlymusteredcourageto‘cutin,’lethishigh,thinvoicesoartoohigh,insomuchthatitwasakindofscream.OnnootherhypothesiscanweaccountfortheferocitywithwhichJohnsonturnedandrendedhim.Johnsondidn’t,wemaybesure,meantobecruel.Theoldlion,started,juststruckoutblindly.Buttheforceofpawandclawswasnotthelesslethal.WehaveendlesstestimonytothestrengthofJohnson’svoice;andtheverycadenceofthosewords,“Theywerenothing,Sir,betheyaddressedtowhattheymay,”convincesmethattheoldlion’sjawsnevergaveforthalouderroar.Boswelldoesnotrecordthattherewasanyfurtherconversationbeforetheannouncementofdinner.Perhapsthewholecompanyhadbeentemporarilydeafened.ButIamnotbotheringaboutthem.Myheartgoesouttothepoordearclergymanexclusively.7Isaidamomentagothathewasyoungandshy;andIadmitthatIslippedthoseepithetsinwithouthavingjustifiedthemtoyoubydueprocessofinduction.YourquickmindwillhavealreadysuppliedwhatIomitted.Amanwithahigh,thinvoice,andwithoutpowertoimpressanyonewithasenseofhisimportance,amansonullineffectthateventheretentivemindofBoswelldidnotretainhisveryname,wouldassuredlynotbeaself-confidentman.Evenifhewerenotnaturallyshy,socialcouragewouldsoonhavebeensappedinhim,andwouldintimehavebeendestroyed,byexperience.Thathehadnotyetgivenhimselfupasabadjob,thathestillhadfaintwildhopes,isprovedbythefactthathedidsnatchtheopportunityforaskingthatquestion.Hemust,accordingly,havebeenyoung.Washethecurateoftheneighboringchurch?Ithinkso.Itwouldaccountforhishavingbeeninvited.IseehimashesitstherelisteningtothegreatDoctor’spronouncementonAtterburyandthoseothers.Hesitsontheedgeofachairinthebackground.Hehascolorlesseyes,fixedearnestly,andafacealmostaspaleastheclericalbandsbeneathhissomewhatrecedingchin.Hisforeheadishighandnarrow,hishairmouse-colored.Hishandsareclaspedtightbeforehim,theknucklesstandingoutsharply.Thisconstrictiondoesnotmeanthatheissteelinghimselftospeak.Hehasnopositiveintentionofspeaking.Verymuch,nevertheless,ishewishinginthebackofhismindthathecouldsaysomething—somethingwhereatthegreatDoctorwouldturnonhimandsay,afterapauseforthought,“Why,yes,Sir.Thatismostjustly

89observed”or“Sir,thishasneveroccurredtome.Ithankyou”—therebyfixingtheobserverforeverhighintheesteemofall.Andnowinaflashthechancepresentsitself.“Wehave,”shoutsJohnson,“nosermonsaddressedtothepassions,thataregoodforanything.”Iseethecurate’sframequiverwithsuddenimpulse,andhismouthflyopen,and—no,Ican’tbearit,Ishutmyeyesandears.Butaudible,evenso,issomethingshrill,followedbysomethingthunderous.8PresentlyIreopenmyeyes.Thecrimsonhasnotyetfadedfromthatyoungfaceyonder,andslowlydowneithercheekfallsaglisteningtear.ShadesofAtterburyandTillotson!SuchweaknessshamestheEstablishedChurch.WhatwouldJortinandSmalridgehavesaid?—whatSeedandSouth?And,bytheway,whowerethey,theseworthies?Itisasolemnthoughtthatsolittleisconveyedtousbynameswhichtothepalæo-Georgiansconveyedsomuch.Wediscernadim,compositepictureofabigmaninabigwigandabillowingblackgown,withabigcongregationbeneathhim.Butwearenotanxioustohearwhatheissaying.Weknowitisallveryelegant.Weknowitwillbeprintedandbeboundinfinely-tooledfullcalf,andnopalæo-Georgiangentleman’slibrarywillbecompletewithoutit.Literatepeopleinthosedayswerecomparativelyfew;but,batingthat,onemaysaythatsermonswereasmuchinrequestasnovelsareto-day.Iwonder,willmankindcontinuetobecapricious?Itisaverysolemnthoughtindeedthatnomorethanahundred-and-fiftyyearshencethenovelistsofourtime,withalltheirmoralandpoliticalandsociologicaloutlookandinfluence,willperhapsshineasindistinctlyasdothoseoldpreachers,withalltheirelegance,now.“Yes,Sir,”somegreatpunditmaybetellingadiscipleatthismoment,“Wellsisoneofthebest.Galsworthyisoneofthebest,ifyouexcepthisconcernfordelicacyofstyle.Mrs.Wardhasaveryfirmgraspofproblems,butisnotverycreational.—Caine’sbooksareveryedifying.IshouldliketoreadallthatCainehaswritten.MissCorelli,too,isveryedifying.—AndyoumayaddUptonSinclair.”“WhatIwanttoknow,”saysthedisciple,“is,whatEnglishnovelsmaybeselectedasspeciallyenthralling.”Thepunditanswers:“Wehavenonovelsaddressedtothepassionsthataregoodforanything,ifyoumeanthatkindofenthralment.”Andheresomepoorwretch(whosenamethedisciplewillnotremember)inquires:“ArenotMrs.Glyn’snovelsaddressedtothepassions?”andisindueformannihilated.Canitbethatatimewillcomewhenreadersofthispassageinourpundit’sLifewilltakemoreinterestinthepoornamelesswretchthaninallthebearersofthosegreatnamesputtogether,beingnomoreableoranxioustodiscriminatebetween(say)Mrs.WardandMr.SinclairthanwearetosetOgdenaboveSherlock,orSherlockaboveOgden?Itseemsimpossible.Butwemustrememberthatthingsarenotalwayswhattheyseem.9Everymanillustriousinhisday,howevermuchhemaybegratifiedbyhisfame,lookswithaneagereyetoposterityforacontinuanceofpastfavors,andwouldevenlivetheremainderofhislifeinobscurityifbysodoinghecouldinsurethatfuturegenerationswouldpreserveacorrectattitudetowardshimforever.Thisisverynaturalandhuman,but,likesomanyverynaturaland

90humanthings,verysilly.Tillotsonandtherestneednot,afterall,bepitiedforourneglectofthem.Theyeitherknownothingaboutit,orareabovesuchterrenetrifles.Letuskeepourpityfortheseethingmassofdivineswhowerenotelegantlyverbose,andhadnofunorglorywhiletheylasted.Andletuskeepaspeciallylargeportionforonewhoselotwassomuchworsethanmerelyundistinguished.IfthatnamelesscuratehadnotbeenattheThralesthatday,or,beingthere,hadkeptthesilencethatsowellbecamehim,hislifewouldhavebeendrabenough,inallconscience.Butatanyrateanunpromisingcareerwouldnothavebeennippedinthebud.Andthatiswhatinfacthappened,I’msureofit.Arobustmanmighthaveralliedundertheblow.Notsoourfriend.Thosewhoknewhimininfancyhadnotexpectedthathewouldbereared.Betterforhimhadtheybeenright.Itiswelltogrowupandbeordained,butnotifyouaredelicateandverysensitive,andshallhappentoannoythegreatest,themoststentorianandroughestofcontemporarypersonages.“AClergyman”neverhelduphisheadorsmiledagainafterthebriefencounterrecordedforusbyBoswell.Hesankintoarapiddecline.BeforethenextblossomingofThraleHall’salmondtreeshewasnomore.IliketothinkthathediedforgivingDr.Johnson.10

9118.SamuelButler:DiogenesoftheVictoriansbyStuartP.ShermanProfessorSherman’scoldcompress,appliedtotheButlercult,causedmuchsufferinginsomeregions,whereitwassaidtobemorethanacoolingbandage—infact,awetblanket.Inthegeneralrough-and-tumbleamongcriticalstandardsduringrecentyears,Mr.ShermanisoneofthosewhohavedealtsomeswingingblowsinfavoroftheVictoriansandtheliteraryOldGuard—whichwasoftensquarebutrarelyhollow.StuartPrattSherman,borninIowain1881,graduatedfromWilliamsin1903,hasbeensince1911professorofEnglishattheUniversityofIllinois.Hisownaccountofhisadventures,writtenwithoutintendedpublication,isworthconsideration.Hesays:“Mylifehasn’tbeenquiteasdryly‘academic,’norassimply‘middle-Western,’astherecordindicates.Forexample:IlivedinLosAngelesfrommy5thtomy13thyear,andthenwentonasevenmonths’adventureingoldminingintheBlackCañonofArizona,whereIhadsomeexperiencewithdrouthinthedesert,etc.Thatisnot‘literary.’“Recently,I’vebeenthinkingImightwritealittlepaperaboutsomecollegefriendsatWilliams.IwasincollegewithHarryJamesSmith(authorofMrs.BumpsteadLee),MaxEastman,and‘Go-to-Hell’Whittlesey.AseditoroftheWilliamsMonthlyIhaveacceptedandrejectedmanuscriptsofboththetwolatter,andhavereminiscencesoftheirliteraryyouth.“ThenIspentasummerinthePostandNationin1908,whichisapleasantchaptertoremember;anothersummerteachingatColumbia;thispastsummerteachingsattheUniversityofCalifornia.Myfavoriterecreationsareclimbinglittlemountains,choppingwood,andcanoeingonLakeMichigan.“ThissummerIhavebeenpickingoutaplacetodiein—orratherlookingoverthesitesofferedinCalifornia.IleantowardsthehighSierras,upabovetheYosemiteValley.“Myambitioninlifeistoretire—perhapsattheageofseventy—andwriteonlyforamusement.WhenIcanabandonthetaskofimprovingmycontemporaries,Ihopetobecomeapopularauthor.”ProfessorSherman,youwillnote,isalmostanexactcontemporaryofH.L.Mencken,withwhomhehascrossedswordsinmorethanonespiritedencounter;andShermanislikelytogiveasgoodashetakesinsuchscuffles,orevenratherbetter.Itishightimethathiscriticalsagacityandpowerfulreasoningwerebetterknowninthemarket-place.UNTILImettheButleriansIusedtothinkthatthereligiousspiritinourtimeswasveryprecious,therewassolittleofit.Ithoughtoneshouldholdone’sbreathbeforeitasabeforetheflickerofone’slastmatchonacoldnightinthewoods.“Whatifitshouldgoout?”Isaid;butmy

92apprehensionwasgroundless.Itcannevergoout.Thereligiousspiritisindestructibleandconstantinquantitylikethesumofuniversalenergyinwhichmatchesandsunsarealikebutmomentarysparklesandphases.ThisgreattruthIlearnedoftheButlerians:Thoughtheformsandobjectsofreligiousbeliefwaxoldasagarmentandarechanged,faith,whichis,afterall,thepreciousthing,enduresforever.Destroyaman’sfaithinGodandhewillworshiphumanity;destroyhisfaithinhumanityandhewillworshipscience;destroyhisfaithinscienceandhewillworshiphimself;destroyhisfaithinhimselfandhewillworshipSamuelButler.1WhatmakestheButleriancultsoimpressiveis,ofcourse,thatButler,poordear,astheEnglishsay,wastheleastworshipfulofmen.Hewasnoteven—tillhisposthumousdisciplesmadehimso—apersonofanyparticularimportance.Onewritingaprivatememorandumofhisdeathmighthaveproducedsomethinglikethis:SamuelButlerwasanunsociable,burry,crotchety,obstinateoldbachelor,adilettanteinartandscience,anunsuccessfulauthor,awittycynicofinquisitivetemperand,comprehensivelyspeaking,theunregardedDiogenesoftheVictorians.Sonofaclergymanandgrandsonofabishop,bornin1835,educatedatCambridge,hebegantoprepareforordination.But,aswearetold,becauseofscruplesregardinginfantbaptismheabandonedtheprospectofholyordersandin1859sailedforNewZealand,wherewithcapitalsuppliedbyhisfatherheengagedinsheepfarmingforfiveyears.In1864,returningtoEnglandwith£8,000,heestablishedhimselfforlifeatClifford’sInn,London.Hedevotedsomeyearstopainting,adoredHandelanddabbledinmusic,madeoccasionaltripstoSicilyandItaly,andwroteadozenbooks,whichgenerallyfelldeadfromthepress,onreligion,literature,artandscientifictheory.“Erewhon,”however,aUtopianromancepublishedin1872,hadby1899soldbetweenthreeandfourthousandcopies.Butlermadefewfriendsandapparentlynevermarried.Hediedin1902.Hislastwordswere:“Haveyoubroughtthechequebook,Alfred?”Hisbodywascrematedandtheasheswereburiedinagardenbyhisbiographerandhisman-servant,withnothingtomarkthespot.2Butler’sindifferencetothedisposalofhisearthlypartbetokensnocontemptforfame.DeniedContemporaryrenown,hehadfirmlysethisheartonimmortality,andquietly,persistently,cannilyprovidedforit.Ifhecouldnotgodowntoposteritybythesuffrageofhiscountrymen,hewouldgodownbytheshrewduseofhischequebook;hewouldbuyhiswayin.Heboughtthepublicationofmostofthebooksproducedinhislifetime.Hediligentlypreparedmanuscriptsforposthumouspublicationandaccumulatedandarrangedgreatmassesofmaterialsforabiographer.Heinsuredaninterestinhisliteraryremainsbybequeathingthemandallhiscopyrightstohisliteraryexecutor,R.A.Streatfield.HepurchasedaninterestinabiographerbypersuadingHenryFestingJones,afecklesslawyerofButlerianproclivities,toabandonthelawandbecomehismusicalandliterarycompanion.InreturnfortheseservicesMr.Jonesreceivedbetween1887and1900anallowanceof£200ayear,andatButler’sdeathabequestof£500,themusicalcopyrights

93andthemanifestresponsibilityandprivilegeofassistingStreatfeildwiththepropagationofButler’sfame,togetherwiththeirown,inthenextgeneration.3Thesegoodandfaithfulservantsperformedtheirdutieswithexemplaryzealandastuteness.In1903,theyearfollowingtheMaster’sdeath,Streatfeildpublished“TheWayofAllFlesh,”abookpackedwithsatiricalwit,thefirstsince“Erewhon”whichwascapableofwalkingoffonitsownlegsandexcitinggeneralcuriosityaboutitsauthor—curiosityintensifiedbytheannouncementthatthenovelhadbeenwrittenbetween1871and1884.Inthewakeofthissensationtherebeganthesystematicannualrelaunchingofoldworks,withfreshintroductionsandmemoirsandapiecemealfeedingoutofotherliteraryremains,culminatingin1917withthepublicationof“TheNote-Books,”askilfulcollectionandcondensationofthewholeofButler’sintellectuallife.Meanwhile,in1908,theErewhondinnerhadbeeninstituted.Inspiteofmilddeprecation,thisfeast,withitstwotoaststohisMajestyandtothememoryofSamuelButler,assumedfromtheoutsettheaspectofasolemnsacramentofbelievers.AmongthesewasconspicuousonthesecondoccasionMr.GeorgeBernardShaw,notquitecertain,perhaps,whetherhehadcometogiveortoreceivehonor,whetherhewashimselftoberegardedasthebeloveddiscipleorratherastheoneforwhomButler,preachingintheVictorianwilderness,hadpreparedthewaywith“freeandfuture-piercingsuggestions.”4By1914StreatfeildwasabletodeclarethatnofragmentofButler’swastooinsignificanttopublish.In1915and1916appearedextensivecriticalstudiesbyGilbertCannanandJohnF.Harris.In1919atlastarrivesHenryFestingJoneswiththeauthoritativememoirintwoenormousvolumeswithportraits,documentssumptuousindex,elaboratebibliographyandapiousaccountingtothepublicfortheoriginalmanuscripts,whichhavebeendepositedlikesacredrelicsatSt.John’sCollege,theBodleian,theBritishMuseum,theLibraryofCongressandatvariousshrinesinItalyandSicily.Herearematerialsforafreshconsiderationofthemaninrelationtohiswork.5Theunconvertedwillsaythatsuchamonumenttosuchamanisabsurdlydisproportionate.ButButlerisnowmorethanaman.Heisaspiritualancestor,leaderofamovement,moulderofyoungminds,founderofafaith.HismonumentifdesignednotmerelytopreservehismemorybuttomarkaswellthepresentimportanceoftheButleriansect.Thememoirappearstohavebeenwrittenprimarilyforthem.Thefaithfulwillnodoubtfinditdelicious;andI,thoughanoutsider,gotthroughitwithoutfatigueandwithakindofperversepleasureinitsperversity.6Itisveryinstructive,butitbynomeanssimplifiesitspuzzlingandcomplexsubject.Mr.Jonesisnotofthebiographerswholookintotheheartofaman,reducehimtoaformulaandrecreatehiminaccordancewithit.Heworksfromtheoutside,inward,andgraduallyachieveslifeandrealitybyanimmenseaccumulationofobjectivedetail,withouteverpluckingout,oreven

94pluckingat,theheartofthemystery.Whatwasheman’s“masterpassion”andhismasterfaculty?Butlerhimselfdidnotknow;consequentlyhecouldnotalwaysdistinguishhiswisdomfromhisfolly.Hewasanironistentangledinhisownnetandanegotistbittenwithself-distrust,concealinghiswoundsinself-assertionandhishesitanciesinanexternalaggressiveness.Mr.Jonespiercestheshellhereandthere,butneverremovesit.Consideringhisopportunities,heissparingincomposedstudiesofhissubjectbasedonhisowndirectobservation;and,withallhisingenuousnessandhisshockingbutilluminatingindiscretions,heisfrequentlysilentasatombwherehemustcertainlypossessinformationforwhicheveryreaderwillinquire,particularlythosereaderswhodonot,liketheButlerians,acceptSamuelButlerasthehappyreincarnationofmoderation,commonsenseandfearlesshonesty.7ThewholecaseoftheGeorgiansagainsttheVictoriansmightbefoughtoutoverhislifeandworks;andindeedtherehasalreadybeenmanyaskirmishinthatquarter.For,ofcourse,neitherStreatfeildnorMr.Jonesisultimatelyresponsibleforhisrevival.UltimatelyButler’svogueisduetothefactthatheisafriendoftheGeorgianrevolutionagainstidealismintheverycitadeloftheenemy;theextraordinaryacclaimwithwhichheisnowreceivedishisrewardforhavinglongagopreparedtobetraytheVictoriansintothehandsofaruthlessposterity.Hewasatraitortohisowntimes,andthereforeitfollowsthathewasamanprofoundlydisillusioned.Thequestionwhichwemayallreasonablyraisewithregardtoatraitorwhomwehavereceivedwithinourlinesiswhetherhewillmakeusagoodcitizen.Weshouldliketoknowprettythoroughlyhowhefelloutwithhiscountrymen—whetherthroughdefectsinhisowntemperandcharacterorthroughaclear-eyedandrighteousindignationwiththeincorrigibleviciousnessoftheirmannersandinstitutions.Weshouldliketoknowwhatvisionofreformationsucceededhisdisillusion.HithertotheGeorgianshavebeenmoreeloquentintheirdisillusionsthanintheirvisions,andhaveinclinedtowelcomeButlerasadissolvingagentwithoutmuchinspectinghissolution.8TheButleriansadmireButlerforhiswitheringattackonfamilylife,notablyin“TheWayofAllFlesh”;andmanyastudiousliterarymanwithatalkativewifeandeightrompingchildrenwould,ofcourse,admitanoccasionalflashofromanticenvyforButler’sbachelorapartments.Mr.JonestellsusthatTheobaldandChristinaPontifex,whosenakednessButleruncoversweredrawnwithoutexaggerationfromhisownfatherandmother.Hisworkonthemisamasterpieceofpitilesssatire.Butlerappearstohavehatedhisfather,despisedhismotherandloathedhissistersinalltruthandsincerity.Henursedhisvindictiveandcontemptuousfeelingstowardsthemallthroughhislife;hestudiedthesefeelings,madenotesonthem,jestedoutofthem,livedinthem,reducedthemtoaphilosophyofdomesticantipathy.9HewasfarmorelearnedthananyotherEnglishauthorinthepsychologyofimpiety.Whenheheardsomeonesay,“Twoarebetterthanone,”heexclaimed,“Yesbutthemanwhosaidthatdidnotknowmysister.”Whenhewasforty-eightyearsoldhewrotetoafriendthathisfatherwasin

95poorhealthandnotlikelytorecover;“butmayhangonformonthsorgooffwiththeN.E.windswhichwearesuretohavelateron.”Inthesameletterhewritesthatheisgoingtostrikeoutfortyweakpagesin“Erewhon”andstickinfortystrongeronesonthe“trialofamiddle-agedman‘fornothavinglosthisfatheratasuitableage.”’Hisfather’soneunpardonableoffensewasnotdyingearlyandsoenlarginghisson’sincome.Ifthishadbeenajest,itwouldhavebeenalittlecoarseforadeathbed.ButMr.Jones,whoappearstothinkitveryamusing,provesclearlyenoughthatitwasnotajest,butanobsession,andahorridobsessionitwas.Nowamanwhoattacksthefamilybecausehisfatherdoesnotdieaspromptlyascouldbedesiredisnotlikelytoproposeahappysubstitute:hismoodisnotreconstructive,funnythoughitmaybeintwooldboysoffifty,likeButlerandJones,livingalonglikespoiledchildrenonallowances,Butlerfromhisfather,Jonesfromhismother.10TheButleriansadmireButlerforhisbrilliantattackon“romantic”relationsbetweenthesexes.BeforetheadventofShawhepouredpoisonontherootsofthatimaginativeloveinwhichallnormalmenandmaidenswalkatleastonceinalifetimeasinarosycloudshotthroughwithgoldenlights.11Hisportraitsshowamanofvigorousphysique,capableofpassion,afacedistinctlyvirile,ratherharshlybearded,withbroadmasculineeyebrows.Washeeverinlove?Ifnot,whywashenot?Elementaryquestionswhichhisbiographerafterathousandpagesleavesunanswered.Mr.JonesassertsthatbothOvertonandErnestin“TheWayofAllFlesh”areinthemainaccuratelyautobiographical,andhefurnishesmuchevidenceforthepoint.Heremarksadivergenceinthisfact,thatButler,unlikehishero,wasneverinprison.DidButler,likehishero,havechildrenandfarmthemout?Thepointisofsomeinterestinthecaseofamanwhoishelpingustodestroytheconventionalfamily.12Mr.JonesleavesquiteinthedarkhisrelationswithsuchwomenasthelateQueenVictoriawouldnothaveapproved,relationswhichJ.B.Yeatshas,however,publiclydiscussed.Mr.Jonesisordinarilycynicalenough,candidenough,asweshallsee.Hetakespainstotellusthathisowngrandfatherwasnevermarried.Hedoesnothesitatetoacknowledgeabundanceofmoraluglinessinhissubject.WhythisaccessofVictorianreticenceatapointwhereplain-speakingistheorderofthedayandthespecialprideofcontemporaryErewhonians?WhydidayoungmanofButler’stastesleavethechurchandgointoexileinNewZealandforfiveyears?Couldamoreresolutebiographerperhapsfindamore“realistic”explanationthandifficultiesoverinfantbaptism?Mr.ShawtoldhispublisherthatButlerwas“ashyoldbird.”Insomerespectshewasalsoaslyoldbird.13Amongthe“future-piercingsuggestions”extolledbyMr.Shawwemaybesurethattheauthorof“ManandSuperman”waspleasedtoacknowledgeButler’sprediscoverythatwomanisthepursuer.ThisideawemaynowtracequitedefinitelytohisrelationswithMissSavage,awitty,

96sensible,presumablyvirtuouswomanofabouthisownage,livinginaclubinLondon,whourgedhimtowritefiction,readallhismanuscripts,knittedhimsocks,reviewedhisbooksinwomen’smagazinesandcorrespondedwithhimforyearstillshedied,withouthisknowledge,inhospitalfromcancer.HerlettersareMr.Jones’mainstayinhisfirstvolumeandsheis,exceptButlerhimself,altogetherhismostinterestingpersonality.MrJonessaysthatbeingunabletofindanyonewhocouldauthorizehimtouseherletters,hepublishesthemonhisownresponsibility.Butheadds,“Icannotimaginethatanyrelationofherswhomayreadherletterswillexperienceanyfeelingsotherthanprideanddelight.”Thislady,hetellsus,wastheoriginalofAletheaPontifex.Buthemarksadifference.Aletheawashandsome.MissSavage,hesays,wasshort,fat,hadhipdisease,and“thatkindofdowdinesswhichIusedtoassociatewithladieswhohadbeenatschoolwithmymother.”ButlerbecamepersuadedthatMissSavagelovedhim;thisboredhim;andthecorrespondencewouldlapsetillhefelttheneedofhercheeryfriendshipagain.Ononeoccasionshewrotetohim,“Iwishthatyoudidnotknowwrongfromright.”Mr.Jonesbelievesthatshewasalludingtohisscrupulousnessinmattersofbusiness.Butlerhimselfconstruedthewordsasanoverturetowhichhewasindisposedtorespond.ThedebateonthispointandtheprettyuncertaintyinwhichitisleftcansurelyarouseinMissSavage’srelationsnootherfeelingsthan“prideanddelight.”14ThisbringsustotheButleriansubstituteforthechivalrywhichusedtobepractisedbythosewhoborewhattheVictorianscalled“thegrandoldnameofgentleman.”Inhislateryears,afterthedeathofMissSavage,inperiodsofloneliness,depressionandill-health,Butlermadenotesonhiscorrespondencereproachinghimselfforhisill-treatmentofher.“Healso,”sayshisbiographer,“triedtoexpresshisremorse”intwosonnetsfromwhichIextractsomelines:Shewastookind,wooedtoopersistently,Wrotemovingletterstomedaybyday;HardthoughItriedtoloveItriedinvain,Forshewasplainandlameandfatandshort,Fortyandoverkind.’Tissaidthatifawomanwoo,nomanShouldleavehertillshehaveprevailed;and,true,Amanwillyieldforpityifhecan,Butifthefleshrebelwhatcanhedo?Icouldnot;henceIgrievemywholelifelongThewrongIdidinthatIdidnowrong.15

97IntheseButleriantimesonewhoshouldspeakof“goodtaste”wouldincurtheriskofbeingcalledaprig.Goodtasteisnolonger“in.”Yetevennow,inthefaceofthesesonnets,maynotoneexclaim,HeavenpreserveusfromtheremorsefulmomentsofaButlerianAdonisoffifty!16ThedescendantsofeminentVictoriansmaywellbethankfulthattheirfathershadnointimaterelationswithButler.ThereisafamiliarstoryofWhistler,thatwhensomeonepraisedhislatestportraitasequaltoVelasquez,hesnappedback,“Yes,butwhyluginVelasquez?”Butler,withsimilaraversionforrivals,butwithoutWhistler’sextemporewit,slowlyexcogitatedhiskillingsalliesandenteredtheminhisnote-booksorsenttheminalettertoMissSavage,preservingacopyforthedelectationofthenextage:“IdonotseehowIcanwellcallMr.DarwinthePecksniffofScience,thoughthisisexactlywhatheis;butIthinkImaycallLordBaconthePecksniffofhisageandthe,alittlelater,saythatMr.DarwinistheBaconoftheVictorianEra.”Tothisheaddsanothernoteremindinghimselftocall“TennysontheDarwinofPoetry,andDarwintheTennysonofScience.”Icanrecallbutoneworkofacontemporarymentionedfavorablyinthebiography;perhapstherearetwo.Thestapleofhiscommentrunsaboutasfollows:“Middlemarch”isa“longwindedpieceofstudiedbrag”;of“JohnInglesant,”“Iseldomwasmoredispleasedwithanybook”;of“AuroraLeigh,”“Idislikeitverymuch,butIlikeditbetterthanMrs.Browning,orMr.,either”;ofRossetti,“Idislikehisfaceandhismannerandhiswork,andIhatehispoetryandhisfriends”;ofGeorgeMeredith,“Nowonderifhisworkrepelsmethatmineshouldrepelhim”;“allIrememberisthatIdislikedanddistrustedMorley”;ofGladstone,“Whowasitsaidthathewas‘agoodmanintheveryworstsenseofthewords’?”Thehomicidalspirithereexhibitedmaybefairlyrelatedtohisanxietyforthedeathofhisfather.17ItwasonthewholecharacteristicofVictorianfree-thinkerstoattackChristianitywithreverenceanddiscriminationinanattempttopreserveitssubstancewhileremovingobstaclestotheacceptanceofitssubstance.ButlerwasVoltairean.Whenhedidnotattackmischievouslylikeagamin,heattackedvindictivelylikeanItalianlaborerwhosesweethearthasbeenfalsetohim.Ihaveseenitstatedthathewasabroadchurchmanandacommunicant;andMr.Jonesproducesaletterfromaclergymantestifyingtohis“saintliness.”ButthismustbesomeofMr.Jones’sfun.FromGibbon,readonthevoyagetoNewZealand,Butlerimbibed,hesays,inaletterof1861,“acalmandphilosophicspiritofimpartialandcriticalinvestigation.”In1862hewrites:“ForthepresentIrenounceChristianityaltogether.Yousaypeoplemusthavesomethingtobelievein.IcanonlysaythatIhavenotfoundmydigestionimpededsinceIleftoffbelievinginwhatdoesnotappeartobesupportedbysufficientevidence.”Whenin1865heprintedhis“EvidencefortheResurrectionofJesusChrist,”themannerofhisattackwasimpish;andsowasthegleefulexchangeofnotesbetweenhimandMissSavageoverthewaytheorthodoxswallowedthebait.

98Inhisnotebookhewrote:“Meadisthelowestoftheintoxicants,justasChurchisthelowestofthedissipations,andcarrawayseedthelowestofthecondiments.”Hewenttochurchoncein1883topleaseafriendandwasaskedwhetherithadnotboredhimasinconsistentwithhisprinciples.“Isaidthat,havinggivenupChristianity,Iwasnotgoingtobehamperedbyitsprinciples.ItwasthesubstanceofChristianity,andnotitsaccessoriesofexternalworship,thatIhadobjectedto…soIwenttochurchoutofpurecussedness.”Finally,inanoteof1889:“Therewillbenocomfortableandsafedevelopmentofoursocialarrangements—Imeanweshallnotgetinfanticide,andthepermissionofsuicide,norcheapandeasydivorce—tillJesusChrist’sghosthasbeenlaid;andthebestwaytolayitistobeamoderatechurchman.”18RobertBurnswasafree-thinker,buthewrotethe“Cotter’sSaturdayNight”;Renanwasafree-thinker,butheburiedhisGodinpurple;MatthewArnoldwasafree-thinker,buthegavenewlifetothereligiouspoetryoftheBible;HenryAdamsbelievedonlyinmathematicalphysics,buthewroteofMontSt.MichelandChartreswithchivalrousandalmostCatholictendernessfortheVirgin:forinallthesediversementherewasreverenceforwhatmenhaveadoredastheirhighest.Therewasrespectforatomb,evenforthetombofaGod.Butler,havingtransferredhisfaithtotheBankofEngland,divertedhimselflikeastreetArabwithaslingshotbypepperingthechurchwindows.HeestablishedmannersforthecontemporaryButlerianwho,comingdowntobreakfastonChristmasmorning,exclaimswithapleasedsmile,“Well,thisisthebirthdayofthehook-nosedNazarene!”19Butler’smoralnoteisratherattractivetoyoungandmiddle-agedpersons:“Wehaveallsinnedandcomeshortofthegloryofmakingourselvesascomfortableasweeasilymighthavedone.”Hisethicsisfoundedrealisticallyonphysiologyandeconomics;for“goodnessisnaughtunlessittendstowardsoldageandsufficiencyofmeans.”Pleasure,dressedlikeaquietmanoftheworld,isthebestteacher:“Thedevil,whenhedresseshimselfinangels’clothes,canonlybedetectedbyexpertsofexceptionalskill,andsooftendoesheadoptthisdisguisethatitishardlysafetobeseentalkingtoanangelatall,andprudentpeoplewillfollowafterpleasureasamorehomelybutmorerespectableandonthewholemoretrustworthyguide.”TherewehavesomethingofthetoneofourgenialFranklin;butButlerisaFranklinwithoutasingleimpulseofFranklin’swidebenevolenceandpracticalbeneficence,aFranklinshornofthespiritofhisgreatness,namely,hisimmenselyintelligentsocialconsciousness.20HavingdisposedofChristianity,orthodoxandotherwise,andhavingreducedthemoralityof“enlightenedselfishness”toitslowestterms,ButlerturnedinthesamespirittothedestructionoforthodoxVictorianscience.Wearelessconcernedforthemomentwithhissubstancethanwithhischaracterandmannerasscientificcontroversialist.“ItIcannot,”hewrote,“andIknowIcannot,gettheliteraryandscientificbigwigstogivemeashilling,Ican,andIknowIcan,heavebricksintothemiddleofthem.”Thoughsuchprofessionaltrainingashehadwasforthechurch

99andforpainting,heseemsnevertohavedoubtedthathismotherwitwassufficientequipment,supplementedbyreadingintheBritishMuseum,fortheoverthrowofmenlikeDarwin,WallaceandHuxley,whofromboyhoodhadgiventheirlivestocollecting,studyingandexperimentingwithscientificdata.“Iamquitereadytoadmit,”herecords,“thatIaminaconspiracyofoneagainstmenofscienceingeneral.”HavingfelthimselfcovertlyslightedinabookforwhichDarwinwasresponsible,hevindictivelyassailed,notmerelythework,butalsothecharacterofDarwinandhisfriends,who,naturallyinferringthathewasanunscrupulous“bounder”seekingnotoriety,generallyignoredhim.21Hisfirst“contribution”toevolutionarytheoryhadbeenahumorousskit,writteninNewZealand,ontheevolutionofmachines,suggestedby“TheOriginofSpecies,”andlaterincludedin“Erewhon.”ToSupportthiswhimsyhefounditusefultorevivetheabandoned“argumentfromdesign”;andmotherwit,stillworkingwhimsically,leapedtotheconceptionthattheorgansofourbodiesaremachines.Thereuponhecommencedseriousscientificspeculator,andproduced“LifeandHabit,”1878;“EvolutionOldandNew,”1879;“UnconsciousMemory,”1880;and“LuckorCunning,”1886.Thegermofallhisspeculations,containedinhisfirstvolume,isthenotionof“theonenessofpersonalityexistingbetweenparentsandoffspringuptothetimethattheoffspringleavestheparent’sbody”;thencedevelopshistheorythattheoffspring“unconsciously”rememberswhathappenedtotheparents;andthencehistheorythatavitalisticpurposefulcunning,asopposedtotheDarwinianchance,isthesignificantfactorinevolution.Histheoryhassomethingincommonwithcurrentphilosophicalspeculation,anditisinpart,asIunderstand,akindofadumbration,ashrewdguess,atthepresentattitudeofcytologists.IthasthusentitledButlertohalfadozenfootnotesinacentenaryvolumeonDarwin;butithardlyjustifieshistransferenceofDarwin’slaurelstoBuffon,Lamarck,ErasmusDarwinandhimself;nordoesitjustifyhisreiteratedcontentionthatDarwinwasaplagiarist,afraud,aPecksniffandaliar.Heswelledtheephemeralbodyofscientificspeculation;buthiscontributiontotheverifiedbodyofsciencewasnegligible,andtheinjuriesthatheinflicteduponthescientificspiritwereconsiderable.22Fortheirsymptomaticvalue,wemustglanceatButler’ssalliesintosomeotherfields.Heheldasaneducationalprinciplethatitishardlyworthwhiletostudyanysubjecttilloneisreadytouseit.Wheninhisfiftieshewishedtowritemusic,hetookupforthefirsttimethestudyofcounterpoint.Mr.GarnetthavinginquiredwhatsubjectButlerandJoneswouldtakeupwhentheyhadfinished“Narcissus,”Butlersaidthatthey“mightwriteanoratorioonsomesacredsubject”;andwhenGarnettaskedwhethertheyhadanythinginparticularinmind,herepliedthattheywerethinkingof“TheWomanTakeninAdultery.”InthesamedecadehecheerfullyappliedfortheSladeprofessorshipofartatCambridge;andhetookcreditfortherediscoveryofalostschoolofsculpture.23

100Attheageoffifty-fivehebrusheduphisGreek,whichhe“hadnotwhollyforgotten,”andreadthe“Odyssey”forthepurposesofhisoratorio,“Ulysses.”WhenhegottoCirceitsuddenlyflasheduponhimthathewasreadingtheworkofayoungwoman!Thereuponheproducedhisbook,“TheAuthoressoftheOdyssey,”withportraitoftheauthoress,Nausicaa,identificationofherbirthplaceinSicily,whichpleasedtheSicilians,andanaccountofthewayinwhichshewroteherpoem.ItwasthemoststartlingliterarydiscoverysinceDeliaBaconburstintothesilentseaonwhichColonelFabyanofthebiliteralcypheristhelatestnavigator.Thattheclassicalscholarslaughedatorignoredhimdidnotshakehisbeliefthattheworkwasasimportantasanythinghehaddone.“Perhapsitwas,”hewouldhaveremarked,ifanyoneelsehadwrittenit.“Iamaproseman,”hewrotetoRobertBridges,“and,exceptHomerandShakespeare”—heshouldhaveaddedNausicaa—“IhavereadabsolutelynothingofEnglishpoetryandverylittleofEnglishprose.”HisinacquaintancewithEnglishpoetry,however,didnotembarrasshim,whentwoyearsafterbringingouthisSicilianauthoress,heclearedupthemysteriesofShakespeare’ssonnets.NordiditpreventhisdismissingtheskepticalDr.Furnivall,afteradiscussionatanA.B.C.shop,asapooroldincompetent.“Nothing,”saidAletheaPontifex,speakingforhercreator,“iswelldonenorworthdoingunless,takeitallround,ithascomeprettyeasily.”Thepoorolddoctor,liketheGreekscholarsandtheprofessionalmenofscience,hadbluntedhiswitsbytoomuchresearch.24Butlermaintainedthateveryman’sworkisaportraitofhimself,andinhisowncasethefeaturesstandoutruggedlyenough.Whyshouldanyoneseeinthisinfatuatedpursuerofparadoxareincarnationofthepaganwisdom?Inhissmallpersonalaffairsheshowsacertainold-maidishtidinessandtheprudenceofanexperiencedoldbachelor,whomanageshislittlepleasureswithoutscandal.ButinhisintellectuallifewhatvestigedowefindoftheGreekorevenoftheRomansobriety,poiseanddecorum?InonerespectButlerwasconservative:herespectedtheestablishedpoliticalandeconomicorder.Butherespecteditonlybecauseitenabledhim,withoutbestirringhimselfabouthisbreadandbutter,tositquietlyinhisroomsatClifford’sInnandinventattacksoneveryotherformoforthodoxy.WithadesiretobeconspicuousonlysurpassedbyhisdesiretobeoriginalheworkedoutthecentralButlerianprinciple;videlicet:Thefactthatallthebestqualifiedjudgesagreethatathingistrueandvaluableestablishesanoverwhelmingpresumptionthatitisvaluelessandfalse.Withhisfeetfirmlyplantedonthisgrandradicalmaximheemployedhislivelywitwithlawyer-likeingenuitytomakeoutacaseagainstfamilylife,ofwhichhewasincapable;againstimaginativelove,ofwhichhewasignorant;againstchivalry,otherwisetheconventionsofgentlemen,whichhehadbutimperfectlylearned;againstVictorianmenofletters,whom,byhisownaccount,hehadneverread;againstaltruisticmoralityandthesubstanceofChristianity,whichwererepugnanttohisselfishnessandothervices;againstVictorianmenofscience,whoseresearcheshehadneverimitated;andagainstElizabethanand

101classicalscholarship,whichhetookupinanoddmomentasoneplaysagameofsolitairebeforegoingtobed.Tohisdiscipleshecouldnotbequeathhiscleverness;butheleftthemhisrecipefororiginality,hismannersandhisassurance,whichhasbeengatheringcompoundinteresteversince.Intheoriginalmanuscriptof“AlpsandSanctuaries”heconsigned“Raffael,alongwithSocrates,Virgil[thelasttwodisplacedlaterbyPlatoandDante],MarcusAureliusAntoninus,Goethe,Beethoven,andanother,tolimboastheSevenHumbugsofChristiandom.”Whowastheunnamedseventh?

10219.Bed-BooksandNight-LightsbyH.M.TomlinsonIshallnotforgetwithwhatathrillofdelightIcameuponH.M.Tomlinson’sOldJunk,thevolumeofessaysfromwhichthisisborrowed.Onefeels,instumblinguponsuchabook,muchassomehappyandastoundedreadersmusthavefeltin1878whenAnInlandVoyagecameout.Itmakesonewonder,submittingone’sselftothemovingmusicandmagicofthatprose,sosimpleandyetsosubtleinitsflavor,whetherpoetryisnot,afterall,aninferiorandmoremechanicform.“Thecoolelementofprose,”thatperfectphraseofMilton’s,comesbacktomind.HowdirectandsatisfyingapassagetothemindMr.Tomlinson’sparagraphshave.Howtheybuildandcumulate,howthesentencesshift,turnandmoveindelicateloopsandridgesundertheblowingwindofthought,likethesandofthedunesthathedescribesinoneessay.Andthroughitall,asintangiblebutasrealandbeautifyingasmoonlight,thereisthepervadingbrightnessofaparticularwayoflookingattheworld,somethingforwhichwehavenocatchword,theilluminationofaspiritatoncehumorous,melancholy,shrewd,lovelyandhumane.Somehow,whenoneiscaughtinthewebofthatexquisite,consideredprose,theawkwardsymbolsofspeechseemtransparent;wecomeclosetoaman’smind. InMr.Tomlinson’sthreebooks—TheSeaandtheJungle(1912),OldJunk(1920)andLondonRiver(1921)isrevealedoneofthemostsincereandperfectworkmenincontemporaryprose.H.M.Tomlinsonwasbornin1873;amonghisearlymemoriesherecords:“IwasanofficeboyandaclerkamongLondon’sships,inthelastdaysoftheclippers.AndIamforcedtorecallsomeofthethings—suchasbookkeepinginajamfactoryandstokingonatrampsteamer.”HejoinedthestaffoftheLondonMorningLeaderin1904;whichwaslatermergedwiththeDailyNews,andtothisjournalhewasattachedforseveralyears.DuringtheWarhewasacorrespondentinFrance;atthedangerofincurringhisanger(shouldheseethis)IquoteMr.S.K.Ratcliffeonthisphaseofhiswork:—“Onewhowasthefriendofall,asweetandfinespiritmovinguntouchedamidtheruinandterror,expressingitselfeverywherewithperfectsimplicity,andattimeswithashatteringcandor.”In1917hebecameassociateeditoroftheLondonNation,where,ifyouareinterested,youmayfindhisinitialsalmostweekly.THERAINflashedacrossthemidnightwindowwithamyriadfeet.Therewasagroaninouterdarkness,thevoiceofallnamelessdreads.Thenervouscandle-flameshudderedbymybedside.Thegroaningrosetoashriek,andthelittleflamejumpedinapanic,andnearlyleftitswhitecolumn.Outofthecornersoftheroomswarmedthereleasedshadows.Blackspectersdancedin

103ecstasyovermybed.Ilovefreshair,butIcannotallowittoslaytheshininganddelicatebodyofmylittlefriendthecandle-flame,thecomradewhoventureswithmeintothesolitudesbeyondmidnight.Ishutthewindow.1Theytalkofthecandle-powerofanelectricbulb.Whatdotheymean?Itcannothavethefaintestglimmeroftherealpowerofmycandle.Itwouldbeasrighttoexpress,inthesameinvertedandfoolishcomparison,theworthof“thosedelicatesisters,thePleiades.”Thatpinchofstardust,thePleiades,exquisitelyremoteindeepestnight,intheprofoundwherelightallbutfails,hasnotthepowerofasulphurmatch;yet,stillapprehensivetothemindthoughtremulousonthelimitofvision,andsometimesevenvanishing,itbringsintodistinctionthosedistantanddifficulthints—hiddenfarbehindallourverifiedthoughts—whichwerarelyproperlyview.Ishouldliketoknowofanygreatarc-lampwhichcoulddothat.Sothestar-likecandleforme.Nootherlightfollowssointimatelyanauthor’smostghostlysuggestion.Wesit,thecandleandI,inthemidstoftheshadesweareconquering,andsometimeslookupfromthelucentpagetocontemplatethedarkhostsoftheenemywithasmilebeforetheyoverwhelmus;astheywill,ofcourse.Likeme,thecandleismortal;itwillburnout.2Asthebed-bookitselfshouldbeasortofnight-light,toassistitsillumination,coarselampsareuseless.Theywoulddousethebook.Thelightforsuchabookmustaccordwithit.Itmustbe,likethebook,alimited,personal,mellow,andcompanionableglow;thesolitarytaperbesidetheonlyworshiperinasanctuary.Thatiswhynothingcancomparewiththeintimacyofcandle-lightforabed-book.Itisalivingheart,brightandwarmincentralnight,burningforusalone,holdingthegauntandtoweringshadowsatbay.Therethemonstrousspectersstandinourmid-nightroom,theadvanceguardofthedarknessoftheworld,heldoffbyourvaliantlittleglim,butreadytofloodinstantlyandfounderusinoriginalgloom.3Thewindmoanswithout;ancientevilsareatlargeandwanderingintorment.Therainshrieksacrossthewindow.Foramoment,forjustamoment,thesentinelcandleisshaken,andburnsbluewithterror.Theshadowsleapoutinstantly.Thelittleflamerecovers,andmerelylooksatitsfoethedarkness,andbacktoitsownplacegoestheoldenemyoflightandman.Thecandleforme,tiny,mortal,warm,andbrave,agoldenlilyonasilverstem!4“Almostanybookdoesforabed-book,”awomanoncesaidtome.Inearlyrepliedinahurrythatalmostanywomanwoulddoforawife;butthatisnotthewaytobringpeopletoconvictionofsin.Herideawasthatthebed-bookissoporific,andforthatreasonsheevenadvocatedthereadingofpoliticalspeeches.Thatwouldbeadissoluteact.Certainlyyouwouldgotosleep;butinwhataframeofmind!Youwouldenterintosleepwithyoureyesshut.Itwouldbelikedying,notonlyunshriven,butintheactofguilt.5Whatbookshallitshineupon?ThinkofPlato,orDante,orTolstoy,oraBlueBookforsuchanoccasion!Icannot.Theywillnotdo—theyarenogoodtome.Iamnotwritingaboutyou.Iknow

104thosemenIhavenamedaretranscendent,thegreaterlights.ButIamboundtoconfessattimestheyboreme.Thoughtheirfeetareclayandonearth,justasours,theirstellarbrowsaresometimesdiminremoteclouds.Formypart,theyaretoobigforbed-fellows.Icannotseemyself,carryingmyfeebleandrestrictedglim,following(inpajamas)thestatuesquefigureoftheFlorentinewhereitstalks,aloofinitsgarbofausterepity,thesonorousdeepsofHades.Hades!Notforme;notaftermidnight!Letthosegowholikeit.6AsfortheRussian,vastanddisquieting,Irefusetoleaveall,includingtheblanketsandthepillow,tofollowhimintothegelidtranquillityoftheupperair,whereeventhecolorsareprismaticspiculesofice,tobroodupontheerraticorbitofthepoormud-ballbelowcalledearth.Iknowitismyworldalso;butIcannothelpthat.Itistoolate,afterabusyday,andatthathour,tobeginovertimeonfashioninganewandbetterplanetoutofcosmicdust.Bybreakfast-time,nothingusefulwouldhavebeenaccomplished.Weshouldallbewherewewerethenightbefore.Thejobisfartoolong,oncethepillowisnicelyset.7Forthetruthis,therearetimeswhenwearetoowearytoremainattentiveandthankfulundertheimprovingeye,kindlybutsevere,oftheseers.Therearetimeswhenwedonotwishtobeanybetterthanweare.Wedonotwishtobeelevatedandimproved.Atmidnight,awaywithsuchbooks!Asfortheliterarypundits,thehighpriestsoftheTempleofLetters,itisinterestingandhelpfuloccasionallyforanacolytetoswingthemagoodhardonewithanincense-burner,andcutandrun,forachange,tosomethingoutsidetherubrics.Midnightisthetimewhenonecanrecall,withribalddelight,thenamesofalltheGreatWorkswhicheverygentlemanoughttohaveread,butwhichsomeofushavenot.Forthereisalmostasmuchclottednonsensewrittenaboutliteratureasthereisabouttheology.8Therearefewbookswhichgowithmidnight,solitude,andacandle.Itismucheasiertosaywhatdoesnotpleaseusthenthanwhatisexactlyright.Thebookmustbe,anyhow,somethingbenedictorybyasinningfellow-man.Clevernesswouldberepellentatsuchanhour.Cleverness,anyhow,isthelevelofmediocrityto-day;wearealltooinfernallyclever.Thefirstwittyandperverseparadoxblowsoutthecandle.Onlythesickinmindcravecleverness,asamorbidbodyturnstodrink.Thelatecandlethrowsitsbeamsagreatdistance;anditsraysmaketransparentmuchthatseemedmassyandimportant.Themindatrestbesidethatlight,whenthehouseisasleep,andtheconsequentialaffairsoftheurgentworldhavediminishedtotheirrightproportionsbecauseweseethemdistantlyfromanotherandamoretranquilplaceintheheavenswhereduty,honor,wittyarguments,controversiallogicongreatquestions,appearsuchaswillleavehardlyatraceoffossilintheinduratedmudwhichpresentlywillcoverthem—themindthencertainlysmilesatcleverness9Forthoughatthathourthebodymaybedog-tired,themindiswhiteandlucid,likethatofamanfromwhomafeverhasabated.Itisbareofillusions.Ithasasharpfocus,smallandstarlike,

105asaclearandlonelyflameleftburningbythealtarofashrinefromwhichallhavegonebutone.Abookwhichapproachesthatlightintheprivacyofthatplacemustcome,asitwere,withhonestandopenpages.10IlikeHeinethen,though.Highmockeryofthegraveandgreat,inthosesentenceswhichareasbraveaspennantsinabreeze,iscomfortableandsedative.One’sownsecretandawkwardconvictions,neverexpressedbecausenotlawfulandbecauseitishardtogetwordstobearthemlightly,seemthentobeheardaloudinthemild,easy,andconfidentdictionofanimmortalwhosevoicehastheblithenessofonewhowaswatched,amusedandirreverent,thehighgodsineagerandsecretdebateonthebestwaytokeepthegiltandtrappingsonthebodyoftheeviltheyhavecreated.11Thatfirst-rateexplorer,Gulliver,isalsofineinthelightoftheintimatecandle.HaveyoureadlatelyagainhisVoyagetotheHouyhnhnms?Tryitaloneagaininquite.Swiftknewallaboutourcontemporarytroubles.Hehasgotitalldown.Whywashecalledamisanthrope?ReadingthatlastvoyageofGulliverintheselectintimacyofmidnightIamforcedtowonder,notatSwift’shatredofmankind,notathissatireofhisfellows,notatthestrangeandterriblenatureofthisgeniuswhothoughtthatmuchofus,buthowitisthataftersuchawiseandsorrowfulrevealingofthethingsweinsistondoing,andourreasonsfordoingthem,andwhathappensafterwehavedonethem,mendonotchange.Itdoesseemimpossiblethatsocietycouldremainunaltered,afterthesurpriseitsappearanceshouldhavecauseditasitsawitsfaceinthatruthlessmirror.WepointinsteadtothefactthatSwiftlosthismindintheend.Well,thatisnotamatterforsurprise.12Suchbooks,andFrance’s“IsleofPenguins,”arenotdisturbingasbed-books.theyresolveone’sagitatedandoutragedsoul,relievingitwithsomefreeexpressionfortheaccusingandquestioningthoughtsengenderedbytheday’saffairs.Buttheydonotrestimmediatelytohandinthebook-shelfbythebed.Theydependonthekindofdayonehashad.Sterneiscloser.Onewouldratherbetransportedasfaraspossiblefromallthedisturbancesofearth’senvelopeofclouds,and“TristramShandy”issuretobefoundinthesun.13Butbestofallbooksformidnightaretravelbooks.OnceIwaslosteverynightformonthswithDoughtyInthe“ArabiaDeserta.”Heisacraggyauthor.Alongcourseoftheordinaryfacilestuff,suchasonegetsinthePresseveryday,thinkingitisEnglish,sendsonethoughtlessandheadlongamongthebitterherbsandstarkbouldersofDoughty’sburningandspaciousexpanse;onlytogetbewildered,andtheshinsbroken,andagreatfatigueatfirst,inastrangelandoffiercesun,hunger,glitteringspar,ancientplutonicrock,andveryAdamhimself.Butonceyouareacclimatized,andknowthelanguage—ittakestime—thereisnomoreLondonafterdark,till,awandererreturnedfromaforgottenhand,youemergefromtheinteriorofArabiaontheRedSeacoastagain,feelingasthoughyouhadlosttouchwiththeworldyouusedtoknow.Andifthatdoesn’tmeangoodwritingIknowofnoothertest.14

106BecauseoncetherewasafatherwhosehabititwastoreadwithboysnightlysomechaptersoftheBible—andcordiallytheyhatedthathabitofhis—IhavethatBooktoo;thoughIfearIhaveitfornoreasonthathe,therigidoldfaithful,wouldbepleasedtohearabout.HethoughtofthefuturewhenhereadtheBible;Ireaditforthepast.Thefamiliarnames,thefamiliarrhythmofitswords,itswonderfulwell-rememberedstoriesofthingslongpast—likethatofEsther,oneofthebestinEnglish—theeloquentangeroftheprophetsforthepeoplethenwholookedasthoughtheywerealive,butwerereallydeadatheart,allissolaceandhometome.AndnowIthinkofit,itisourhomeandsolacethatwewantinabed-book.

10720.ThePreceptofPeacebyLouiseImogenGuineyLouiseImogenGuiney(1861–1920),oneoftherarestpoetsandmostdelicatelypoisedessayiststhiscountryhasreared,hasbeenhithertoscantilyappreciatedbytheomnipotentGeneralReader.Herdaintyspoorisperhapstoolightlytroddenuponearthtobefollowedbythethrong.Andyetonehasfaithintheimperishabilityofsuchastar-dusttrack.Thislovelyandprofound“PreceptofPeace”ispeculiarlycharacteristicofher,andremindsoneofthehumoroustranquillitywithwhichshefacedthecompletefailure(financiallyspeaking)ofalmostallherbooks.Therewasacertainsadnessinlearning,whenthenewsofherdeathcame,thatmanyofourpresent-daycriticalSanhedrimhadneverevenbecomeawareofhername.Thereisnospace,inthisbriefnote,todojusticetoher.Thestudentwillrefertothenewlypublishedmemoirbyherfriend,AliceBrown.ShewasborninBostonin1861,daughterofGeneralPatrickGuineywhofoughtintheCivilWar.From1894–97shewaspostmistressinAuburndale,Mass.HerlateryearswerespentinEngland,mostlyatOxford:theBodleianLibrarywasacandleandshetheecstaticmoth.ACERTAINsortofvoluntaryabstractionistheoldestandchoicestofsocialattitudes.InFrance,whereallestheticdiscoveriesaremade,itwascrownedlongago:lasainteindiffèrenceis,ormaybe,acult,andlesaintindiffèrentanarticledpractitioner.FortheGallicmind,broughtupatthekneeofaconsistentparadox,hasfoundthatnottoappearconcernedaboutadesiredgoodistheonlymethodtopossessit;fullhappinessisgiven,inotherwords,totheverymanwhowillneversueforit.ThisisasecretneatasthatoftheSphinx:to“gosoftly”amongevents,yetdomineerthem.Withoutfear:notbecausewearebrave,butbecauseweareexempt:webearsocharmedalifethatnotevenBaldur’smistletoecantouchustoharmus.Withoutsolicitude:fortheessentialthingistrained,falcon-like,tolightfromaboveuponourwrists,andithasbecomewithusanautomaticmotiontoopenthehand,anddropwhatappertainstousnolonger.Beitrenownoranewhat,theshorterstickofcelery,or“Thefriendstowhomwehadnonaturalright,Thehomesthatwerenotdestinedtobeours,”itisallone:letitfallaway!sinceonlyso,bydepletions,canwebuyserenityandablithemien.Itisdivertingtostudy,atthefeetofAntisthenesandofSocrateshismaster,howmanyindispensablesmancanlivewithout;orhowmanyhecangathertogether,makeoverintoluxuries,andsoabrogatethem.Thoreausomewhereexpresseshimselfasfullofdivinepityforthe“mover,”whoonMay-Daycloudscitystreetswithhismelancholyhouseholdcaravans:fatalimpedimentaforanimmortal.No:furnitureisclearlyasuperstition.“Ihavelittle,Iwantnothing;allmytreasureisinMinerva’stower.”Notthatthenovicemaynotaccumulate.Rather,lethimcollectbeetlesandVenetianinterrogation-marks;ifsobethathemaydistinguishwhatistruly

108extrinsictohim,andbestowthesetoys,eventually,onthechildrenofSatanwhoclamoratthemonasterygate.Ofallhisstore,unconsciouslyincreased,hecanalwayspartwithsixteen-seventeenths,bywayofconcessiontohisindividuality,andthinkthesubtractionsomuchconcealingmarblechippedfromtheheroicfigureofhimself.Hewouldbeadonorfromthebeginning;beforehecanbeseentoown,hewilldisencumber,anddivide.Strangeandfearfulishisdiscovery,amidthebric-a-bracoftheworld,thatthisknowledge,orthismaterialbenefit,isforhimalone.Hewouldfainbegofffromtheacquisition,andshakethetouchofthetangiblefromhisimperiouswings.Itisnotenoughtoceasetostriveforpersonalfavor;yourtrueindifférentisEarlyFranciscan:caringnottohave,hefearstohold.Thingsusefulneedneverbecometohimthingsdesirable.Towardsallcommonly-accountedsinecures,hebearsthecoldestfrontinNature,likeamagicianwalkingamaze,andscornfulofitsflower-bordereddetentions.“Ienjoylife,”saysSeneca,“becauseIamreadytoleaveit.”Meanwhile,theywhoactwithtoojealousrespectfortheirmorrowofcivilizedcomfort,reaponlyindigestion,andcrow’s-foottraceriesfortheirdeludedeye-corners.1Nownothingisfartherfromlesaintindifférentthancheapindifferentism,so-called:thesicknessofsophomores.Hisbusinessistohide,nottodisplay,hislackofinterestinfripperies.Itisnothewholookslanguid,andtwiddleshisthumbsforsickmisplacedness,likeAchillesamonggirls.Onthecontrary,heisasmilingindustriouself,monstrousattentivetothecanonsofpolitesociety.Inrelationtoothers,heshowswhatpassesforanimationandenthusiasm;foratalltimeshischaracterisfoundedoncontrolofthesequalities,notontheabsenceofthem.Itflattershissenseofsuperioritythathemaythuspullwoolabouttheearsofjointandseveral.Hehassostrongawillthatitcanbecrossedandcounter-crossed,asbyhimself,sobyadozenoutsiders,withoutabreakinhisapparentphlegm.Hehasgonethroughvolition,andcomeoutattheothersideofit;everythingwithhimisaspecificact:hehasnohabits.Lesaintindifférentisadramaticwight:helovestorefuseyourprofferedsixpercent,when,byalittlehaggling,hemayobtainthree-and-a-half.Forsohegetsawaywithhisownmentalprocessesvirgin:itisinconceivabletoyouthat,beingsane,heshouldsocomporthimself.Amiable,perhaps,onlybypainfulpropulsionsandsorevigilance,lethimappearthemereinheritorofeasygood-nature.Unselfishoutofsheerpride,andevereagertoclaimtheslipperysideofthepavement,ortheendcutoftheroast(onthesecretground,beitunderstood,thatheisnotasCapuanmen,whowinceattrifles),lethimhavehisironicrewardinpassingforonewhosephysicalconnoisseurshipisyetintheraw.Thatsympathywhichhisruleforbidshisdevotingtotheusualobjects,heexpends,withsomebravado,upontheiropposites;forhewouldfainseemadecentpartizanofsomesort,notwhatheis,abivalveintelligence,TrosTyriusque.Heisknownhereandthere,forinstance,asvalorousintalk;yetheisbynatureasolitary,and,forthemost,part,somewhatlesscommunicativethan“thewindthatsingstohimselfashemakesstride,

109Lonelyandterrible,ontheAndeanheight.”Imaginingnothingidlerthanwordsinthefaceofgraveevents,hecondolesandcongratulateswiththegenteelestairintheworld.Inshort,whilethereisanythingexpectedofhim,whiletherearespectatorstobefooled,thestratagemsofthefellowproveinexhaustible.Itisonlywhenheisquitealonethathedropshisjaw,andstretcheshislegs;thenheigho!ariseslikeasmoke,andenvelopeshimbecomingly,thebeautifulnativewell-bredtorpidityofthegods,ofpoeticboredom,of“theOxfordmanner.”2“Howweary,stale,flat,andunprofitable!”sighedHamletofthismortaloutlook.Asitcamefromhiminthebeginning,thatplaint,initssincerity,cancomeonlyfromthemanofculture,whofeelsabouthimvastmentalspacesanddepths,andtowhomthefaceofcreationisbutcomparativeandsymbolic.Norwillhebreatheitinthecommonear,whereitmaywoomisapprehensions,andbreedignorantrebellion.Theunletteredmusteverloveorhatewhatisnearesthim,and,forlackofperspective,thinkhisownfistthesizeofthesun.Thesocialprizes,which,withmellowedobservers,rankastwelfthorthirteenthinorderofdesirability,suchaswealthandafootholdinaffairs,seemtohimfirstandsole;andtothemheclingslikeabarnacle.Buttoourindifférent,nothingissovulgarasclosesuction.Hewillnevertightenhisfingersonloanedopportunity;heisagentleman,theheroofthehabituallyrelaxedgrasp.Alightunprejudicedholdonhisprofitsstrikeshimasdecentandcomely,thoughhistrueartisticpleasureisstillin“fallingsfromus,vanishings.”Itcostshimlittletolooseandtoforego,tounlacehistentacles,andfromthemanywhopushhardbehind,toretire,asitwere,onanever-guessed-atcompetency,“richerthanuntemptedkings.”Hewouldnotbealife-prisoner,ineversocharmingabower.WhilethetranquilSabineFarmishisdelight,wellheknowsthatonthedarktrailaheadofhim,evenSabineFarmsarenotsequacious.Thushelearnsbetimestoplaytheguestunderhisowncedars,and,withdisciplinaryintent,goesoftenfromthem;and,hearinghisheart-stringssnapthirdnightheisaway,rejoicesthatheisagainafreedman.Wherehisfootisplanted(thoughitrootnotanywhere),hecallsthatspothome.NoUnitarianinlocality,itfollowsthatheisthebestoftravelers,tangentialmerely,andpleasedwitheachnewvistaofthehumanPast.Hesometimeswisheshisunderstandingless,thathemightitchdeliciouslywithaprejudice.Withcosmiccongruities,greatandgeneralforces,hekeeps,allalong,atacitunderstanding,suchasonehaswithbelovedrelativesatadistance;andhisfinger,airilyinsertedinhisouterpocket,isreallyuponthepulseofeternity.Hisvocation,however,istoburyhimselfintheminorandimmediatetask;andfromhisintentmanner,hegetsconfounded,promptlyandpermanently,withthevictimsofcommercialambition.3Thetrueuseofthemuch-praisedLuciusCary,ViscountFalkland,hashardlybeenapprehended:heissimplythepatronsaintofindifférents.Fromfirsttolast,almostaloneinthatdiscordanttime,heseemstohaveheardfar-offresolvingharmonies,andtohavebeenraptawaywith

110foreknowledge.Battle,towhichallknightswerebred,waspenitentialtohim.Itwasbutachildishmeans:andtowhatend?Hemeanwhile—andnomancarriedhiswillinbetterabeyancetotheschemeoftheuniverse—wantednodiligenceincamporcouncil.Caressathandsomelyonhimwhocarednotatall,whowonsmallcomfortfromthecausewhichhisconsciencefinallyespoused.Helaboredtobeadoer,tostandwellwithobservers;andnonesavehisintimatefriendsreadhisagitationandprofoundweariness.“Iamsomuchtakennoticeof,”hewrites,“foranimpatientdesireforpeace,thatitisnecessaryIshouldlikewisemakeitappearhowitisnotoutoffearfortheutmosthazardofwar.”Andso,drivenfromtheardorhehadtothesimulationoftheardorhelacked,loyallydaring,asacrificetooneoftwotransientopinions,andinlyimpartialasastar,LordFalklandfell:theyoungnever-to-be-forgottenmartyrofNewburgfield.Theimminentdeedhemadeaworkofart;andthestationofthemomenttheonlypostofhonor.Lifeanddeathmaybeallonetosuchaman:buthewillatleasttakethenoblestpainstodiscriminatebetweenTweedledumandTweedledee,ifhehastowriteabookaboutthevariationsoftheirantennæ.AndliketheCarolianexemplaristhedisciple.Theindifférentisagoodthinker,oragoodfighter.Heisno“immartialminion,”asdearoldChapmansuffersHectortocallTydides.Nevertheless,hissign-manualiscontentwithhumbleandstagnantconditions.TalkofscalingtheHimalayasoflifeaffectshim,verypalpably,as“talltalk.”Hedealsnotwiththings,butwiththeimpressionsandanalogiesofthings.Thematerialcountsfornothingwithhim:hehasmoulteditaway.Notsosureoftheidentityofthehighercourseofactionasheisofhisconsecratingdispositions,hefellsthathemaymakeheavenagain,outofsundries,ashegoes.Shallnotabeggarlyduty,dischargedwithperfecttemper,landhimin“theout-courtsofGlory,”quiteassuccessfullyasgrandSunday-schoolexcursiontofrontthecruelPaynimfoe?Hethinksso.Expertshavethoughtsobeforehim.FrancisDrake,withthenationalalaruminstantinhisears,desiredfirsttowinatbowls,ontheDevonsward,“andafterwardstosettlewiththeDon.”Noonewillclaimabuccaneeringheroforanindifférent,however.TheJesuitnoviceswereball-playingalmostatthatverytime,threehundredyearsago,whensometoospeculativecompanion,figuringtheendoftheworldinafewmoments(withjustleisureenough,between,tobeshriveninchapel,accordingtohisownthriftymind),askedLouisofGonzagahowhe,onhispart,shouldemploythepreciousinterval.“Ishouldgoonwiththegame,”saidthemostinnocentandmostasceticyouthamongthem.Buttocitethebehaviorofanyofthesaintsistostepovertheplayfullineallotted.Indifferenceofthemundanebrandisnottobeconfoundedwiththeirdetachment,whichisemancipationwroughtinthesoul,andtheineffableefflorescenceoftheChristianspirit.Likemostsupernaturalvirtues,ithasalaicshadow;thecounseltoabstain,andtobeunsolicitous,isonenotonlyofperfection,butalsoofpolity.Averylittlenonadhesiontocommonaffairs,alittlereserveofunconcern,andthegayspiritofsacrifice,providethemoralimmunitywhichistheonlyrealestate.Theindifférentbelievesinstorms:sincetalesofshipwreckencompasshim.But

111onceamonghisownkind,hewondersthatfolkshouldbecircumventedbymerelyextraneouspowers!Hisfavoritecatch,woveninamongescapeddangers,risesthroughtheroughestweather,anddauntsit:“Nowstrikeyoursailes,yejollymariners,Forwebecomeintoaquietrode.”Noslavetoanyvicissitude,hisimaginationis,onthecontrary,thecheerfulobstinatetyrantofallthatis.Helives,asKeatsoncesaidofhimself,“inathousandworlds,”withdrawingatwillfromonetoanother,oftencurtailinghiscircumferencetoenlargehisliberty.Hisuniverseisauniverseofballs,likethosewhichthecunningOrientalcarversmakeoutofivory;eachentiresurfaceperforatedwiththesamedelicatepattern,eachmovingprettilyandinextricablywithintheother,andallbuttheouteroneimpossibletohandle.Insomesuchinnermostasylumtherightsortofdare-devilsitssmiling,whilemenrageorweep.

11221.OnLyingAwakeatNightbyStewartEdwardWhiteThisisfromTheForest—oneofStewartEdwardWhite’smanydelightfulvolumes.AverylargepublichasenjoyedMr.White’swritings—manyofhisreaders,perhaps,withoutaccuratelyrealizinghowextraordinarilygoodtheyare.Mr.WhitewasborninGrandRapids,Michigan,1873;studiedattheUniversityofMichigan;hashuntedbiggameinAfrica;servedasmajoroffieldartillery,1917–18;andisaFellowoftheRoyalGeographicalSociety.Hisfirstbook,TheWesterners,waspublishedin1901,sincewhentheyhavefollowedregularly.“Whohathlainalonetohearwildgoosecry?”ABOUTonceinsooftenyouareduetolieawakeatnight.WhythisissoIhaveneverbeenabletodiscover.Itapparentlycomesfromnopredisposinguneasinessofindigestion,norashnessinthematteroftoomuchteaortobacco,noexcitationofunusualincidentorstimulatingconversation.Infact,youturninwiththeexpectationofratheragoodnight’srest.Almostatoncethelittlenoisesoftheforestgrowlarger,blendinthehollowbignessofthefirstdrowse;yourthoughtsdriftidlybackandforthbetweenrealityanddream;when—snap!—youarebroadawake!1Perhapsthereservoirofyourvitalforcesisfulltotheoverflowofalittlewaste;orperhaps,moresubtly,thegreatMotherinsiststhusthatyouenterthetempleofherlargermysteries.2For,unlikemereinsomnia,lyingawakeatnightinthewoodsispleasant.Theeager,nervousstrainingforsleepgiveswaytoadeliciousindifference.Youdonotcare.Yourmindiscradledinanexquisitepoppy-suspensionofjudgmentandofthought.Impressionsslipvaguelyintoyourconsciousnessandasvaguelyoutagain.Sometimestheystandstarkandnakedforyourinspection;sometimestheylosethemselvesinthemistofhalf-sleep.Alwaystheylaysoftvelvetfingersonthedrowsyimagination,sothatintheircaressingyoufellthevasterspacesfromwhichtheyhavecome.Peaceful-broodingyourfacultiesreceive.Hearing,sight,smell—allarepreternaturallykeentowhateverofsoundandsightandwoodsperfumeisabroadthroughthenight;andyetatthesametimeactiveappreciationdozes,sothesethingslieonitsweetandcloyinglikefallenrose-leaves.3Insuchcircumstanceyouwillhearwhatthevoyageurscallthevoicesoftherapids.Manypeopleneverhearthematall.Theyspeakverysoftandlowanddistinctbeneaththesteadyroaranddashing,beneatheventhelessertinklingsandgurglingswhosequalitysuperimposesthemovertheloudersounds.Theyarelikethetear-formsswimmingacrossthefieldofvision,whichdisappearsoquicklywhenyouconcentrateyoursighttolookatthem,andwhichreappearso

113magicallywhenagainyourgazeturnsvacant.Inthestillnessofyourhazyhalf-consciousnesstheyspeak;whenyoubendyourattentiontolisten,theyaregone,andonlythetumultsandthetinklingsremain.4Butinthemomentoftheiraudibilitytheyareverydistinct.Justasoftenanodorwillwakeallavanishedmemory,sothesevoices,bytheforceofalargeimpressionism,suggestwholescenes.Faroffarethecling-clag-clingofchimesandtheswell-and-fallmurmurofamultitudeenfête,sothatsubtlyyoufeelthegrayoldtown,withitswalls,thecrowdedmarketplace,thedecentpeasantcrowd,thebooths,themellowchurchbuildingwithitsbells,thewarm,dust-motedsun.Or,inthepausesbetweentheswish-dash-dashingsofthewaters,soundfaintandclearvoicessingingintermittently,callsdistantnotesoflaughter,asthoughmanycanoeswereworkingagainstthecurrent—onlytheflotillanevergetsanynearer,notthevoiceslouder.ThevoyageurscallthesemistpeopletheHuntsmen;andlookfrightened.Toeachishisvision,accordingtohisexperience.Thenationsoftheearthwhispertotheirexiledsonsthroughthevoicesoftherapids.Curiouslyenough,byallreports,theysuggestalwayspeacefulscenes—aharvest-field,astreetfair,aSundaymorninginacathedraltown,carelesstravelers—nevertheturmoilsandstruggles.PerhapsthisisthegreatMother’scompensationinaharshmodeoflife.5Nothingismorefantasticallyunrealtotellabout,nothingmoreconcretelyrealtoexperience,thanthisundernoteofthequickwater.Andwhenyoudolieawakeatnight,itisalwaysmakingitsunobtrusiveappeal.Graduallyitshypnoticspellworks.Thedistantchimesringlouderandnearerasyoucrosstheborderlandofsleep.Andthenoutsidethetentsomelittlewoodsnoisesnapsthethread.Anowlhoots,awhippoorwillcries,atwigcracksbeneaththecautiousprowlofsomenightcreature—atoncetheyellowsunlitFrenchmeadowspuffaway—youarestaringattheblurredimageofthemoonsprayingthroughthetextureofyourtent.6Thevoicesoftherapidshavedroppedintothebackground,ashavethedashingnoisesofthestream.Throughtheforestisagreatsilence,butnostillnessatall.Thewhippoorwillswingsdownanduptheshortcurveofhisregularsong;overandoveranowlsayshisrapidwhoo,whoo,whoo.These,withtheceaselessdashoftherapids,arethewebonwhichthenighttraceshermoredelicateembroideriesoftheunexpected.Distantcrashes,singleandimpressive;stealthyfootstepsnearathand;thesubduedscratchingofclaws;afaintsniff!sniff!sniff!ofinquiry;thesuddencleartin-hornko-ko-ko-óhofthelittleowl;theMournful,long-drawn-outcryoftheloon,instinctwiththespiritofloneliness;theetherealcall-noteofthebirdsofpassagehighintheair;apatter,patter,patter,amongthedeadleaves,immediatelystilled;andthenatthelast,fromthethicketcloseathand,thebeautifulsilverpurityofthewhite-throatedsparrow-thenightingaleoftheNorth-tremblingwiththeecstasyofbeauty,asthoughashimmeringmoonbeamhadturnedtosound;andallthewhiletheblurredfigureofthemoonmountingtotheridge-lineofyourtent—thesethingscombinesubtly,untilatlastthegreatSilenceofwhichtheyareapart

114overarchesthenightanddrawsyouforthtocontemplation.7Nobeverageismoregratefulthanthecupofspringwateryouatsuchatime;nomomentmorerefreshingthanthatinwhichyoulookaboutyouatthedarkenedforest.Youhavecastfromyouwiththewarmblanketthedrowsinessofdreams.Acoolness,physicalandspiritual,bathesyoufromheadtofoot.Allyoursensesarekeyedtothelastvibrations.Youhearthelittlernightprowlers;youglimpsethegreater.Afaint,searchingwoodsperfumeofdampnessgreetsyournostrils.Andsomehow,mysteriously,inamannernottobeunderstood,theforcesoftheworldseeminsuspense,asthoughatouchmightcrystallizeinfinitepossibilitiesintoinfinitepowerandmotion.Butthetouchlacks.Theforceshoverontheedgeofaction,unheedingthelittlenoises.Inallhumblenessandawe,youareadwelleroftheSilentPlaces.8Atsuchatimeyouwillmeetwithadventures.Onenightweputfourteeninquisitiveporcupinesoutofcamp.NearMcGregor’sBayIdiscoveredinthelargegrassparkofmycamp-siteninedeer,croppingtheherbagelikesomanybeautifulghosts.Afriendtellsmeofafawnthateverynightusedtosleepoutsidehistentandwithinafootofhishead,probablybywayofprotectionagainstwolves,Itsmotherhadinalllikelihoodbeenkilled.Theinstantmyfriendmovedtowardthetentopeningthelittlecreaturewoulddisappear,anditwasalwaysgonebyearliestdaylight.Nocturnalbearsinsearchofporkarenotuncommon.Buteventhoughyourinterestmeetsnothingbutthebatsandthewoodsshadowsandthestars,thatfewmomentsofthesleepingworldforcesisapsychicalexperiencetobegainedinnootherway.Youcannotknowthenightbysittingup;shewillsitupwithyou.Onlybycomingintoherpresencefromthebordersofsleepcanyoumeetherfacetofaceinherintimatemood.9Thenightwindfromtheriver,orfromtheopenspacesofthewilds,chillsyouafteratime.Youbegintothinkofyourblankets.Inafewmomentsyourollyourselfintheirsoftwool.Instantlyitismorning.10And,strangetosay,youhavenottopaybygoingthroughthedayunrefreshed.Youmayfeelliketurninginateightinsteadofnine,andyoumayfallasleepwithunusualpromptitude,butyourjourneywillbeginclear-headedly,proceedspringily,andendwithmuchinreserve.Nolanguor,nodullheadache,noexhaustion,followsyourexperience.Forthisonceyourtwohoursofsleephavebeenaseffectiveasnine.

11522.AWoodlandValentinebyMarianStormMarianStormwasborninStormville,N.Y.,andeducatedatPennHall,Chambersburg,Pa.,andatSmithCollege.Shedideditorialandfree-lanceworkinNewYorkaftergraduation,andlaterwenttoWashingtontobecameprivatesecretarytotheArgentineAmbassador.Since1918shehasbeenconnectedwiththeNewYorkEveningPost.ThisessaycomesfromMinstrelWeather,aseriesofopen-airvignetteswhichcirclethezodiacwiththeattentiveeyeofanaturalistandtheenchantedardorofapoet.FORCESastirinthedeepestrootsgrowrestlessbeneaththelockoffrost.Bulbstrythedoor.February’sstillnessischargedwithafaintanxiety,asifthepowersoflight,pressingupfromtheearth’scenterandstreamingdownfromthestrongersun,hadtroubledtheburiedseeds,whostrivetoanswertheirliberator,sothattheguardingmothermustwhisperoverandover,“Notyet,notyet!”Bettertostaybehindthefrozengatethantocometooearlyupintorealmswherethewolvesofcoldarestillaprowl.Wiselythesnowplacesawhitehandovereagerlifeunseen,butperceivedinFebruary’swoodsasaswimmerfeelsthechangingmoodsofwaterinalakefedbysprings.Onlythethickstars,closerandmorecompanionablethaninmonthsoffoliage,burnalertandserene.InFebruarytheMilkyWayisrevealeddivinelylucenttolonelypeoples—herdsmen,mountaineers,fishermen,trappers—whoareabroadinthestarlighthoursofthisgraveandsilenttimeofyear.Itisinthelong,frozennightsthattheskyhasmostredflowers.1Februaryknowsthebeatoftwilightwings.Driftingnorthagaincomebirdswhoonlypretendedtoforsakeus—adventurers,notsofondofsafetybutthattheydareriskfindinghowsnowbuntingandpinefinchhaveplunderedtheconesoftheevergreens,whilechickadees,sparrows,andcrowsaresupervisingfromestablishedstationsallthemoredomesticsuppliesavailable,asparrowoftenmakingitpossibletoannoyevenaduckoutofhershareofcrackedcorn.Rangedalongabrown-drapedoakbranchinthewaxinglight,crowsshowalordlyglisteningoffeathers.(Sunonasweepingwinginflighthasthequalityofsunonaripple.)Wherehemlocksgather,deepinsomberwoods,thegreathornedowlhasthussoon,perhapsworkingamidsnowsathertask,builtanestwhereinMarchwillfindsturdyballsoffluff.Thethunderouslovesongofhermatesoundsthroughthetimber.Bythetimethewrenhasnestedthesewinterbabieswillbesolemnwiththewisdomoftheirfamousrace.2ThereisnoseasonliketheendofFebruaryforcleaningoutbrooks.Hasteningyellowwaterstossadrearywreckageoftornorashenleaves,twigs,acorncups,strandedraftsofbark,andbuttonballsfromthesycamore,nevertocometoseed.Standingononebankorboth,accordingtothesunderingflood’sambition,theknightwithstaffandboldforefingersetsthewaterprincessfree.Shegoesthencurtsyinganddimplingovertheshininggravel,slidingfrombeneaththeice

116thatroofsherontheuplandsdowntothesoftervalleys,whereherquickenedstepwillbeheardbythefrogsintheirmansionsofmud,andthefish,reclusesinraylesspools,willrisetothelightshebrings.3Downfromthefrozenmountains,insummer,birdsandwindsmustbeartheseedofalpineflowers—liliesthatleanagainstunmeltingsnows,poppies,bright-coloredherbs,andthepalelygleaming,fringedbeautiesthatchangenameswithcountries.HowjustandreasonableitwouldseemtobethatflowerswhichedgetheiceinJulyshouldconsenttobloominlowlandsnocolderinFebruary!Thepageantofblue,magenta,andscarletontheaustereupperslopesoftheRockies,wherenightsarebittertothesummerwanderer—whyshoulditnotflourishtoleewardofavalleybarninmonthswhenicicleshangfromtheeavesinthistamersetting?Butno.Mountaintempestsareendurabletothesilken-petaled.Thetreacherouslowlandwinter,withitscoaxingsunsfollowedbyroaringdesolation,isforbloomsbredinadifferenttradition.4Thelightisclearbuthesitant,adelicatewine,bynomeansthemightyvintageofApril.Februaryhasnointoxication;thevagueeagernessthatgivestheairapulsewherefieldslievoicelesscomesfromthesecretstirringofimprisonedlife.Springandsunriseareforevermiracles,buttheearlyhourofthewonderhardlyhintstheexuberanceofitsfulfilment.Eventheforestdwellersmovegravely,thankfulforanypromiseofkindnessfromthelordofdayashehangsaboveasea-graylandscape,butknowingwellthattheirlongduressisnotyettoend.Deerpatheticallyhaunttheoutskirtsoffarms,gazinguponcattlefeedinginwinterpasturefromthestack,andoften,afterdark,clearingthefencesandrobbingthesamedisheveledstorehouse.Notachipmunkwinksfromthetoprail.Thewoodchuck,afterhissingleexpeditionaryeffortonCandlemas,whichheisobligedtomakeformankind’senlightenment,hasretiredwithoutbeingseen,insunshineorshadow,andhasnottheslightestintentionofdisturbinghimselfjustyet.Thoughsnowdropsmayfeeluneasy,heknowstoomuchabouttheIdesofMarch!QuietestofallNorthernwoodscreatures,theotterslidesfromoneice-hungwaterfalltothenext.Thesolitaryscampererleftisthecottontail,appealingbecauseheisthemostpursuedandpolitestofthefurry;faithfullytryingtogivenooffense,exceptwhenstarvationpointstowintercabbage,heisnonethelessfey.Soisthemink,thoughhemoveslikeaphantom.5Mosses,whereonMarchincomingtreadsfirst,showonehuebrighterintheswamps.Pussywillowshavemadeagraydawninvinycavernswheretheday’sowndawnlooksinbutfaintly,andtheflushingoftheredwillowbetraysreveriesofanotimpossiblecowslipuponthebankbeneath.Thebluejayhasmentioneditinthecourseofhisvolublerecollections.Heisunwillingtoprophesyarbutus,buthewilljusthintthatwhentheleavesinthewoodlotshowthroughsnowasearlyasthis.…OncehefoundahepaticabudthelastdayofFebruary.…Speakingwithhisoldfriend,themuskrat,lastweek.…Andwhenyoucanseeredpebblesinthecreekatfiveo’clockintheafternoon.…Butitisnousetoexpectyelloworchidsonthewestknollthisspring,forsome

117peoplefoundthemtherelastyear,andafterthatyoumightaswell.…Ofcoursecowslipsbesideredwillowsareremarkablypretty,justasbluejaysinacedarwithblueberries.…Heisinterminable,butthenhehasseenagreatdealoflife.AndFebruaryneedsherbluejays’unweariedandconqueringfaith.

11823.TheElementsofPoetrybyGeorgeSantayanaGeorgeSantayanawasborninMadridin1863,ofSpanishparentage.HegraduatedfromHarvardin1886,andtaughtphilosophythere,1889–1911.Helivesnow,Ithink,inEngland.Imustbefrank:excepthispoems,Ionlyknowhisworkinthatenthrallingvolume,LittleEssaysDrawnfromtheWritingsofGeorgeSantayana,editedbyL.PearsallSmith.Muchofitistooesotericformygrasp,butMr.Smith’sredactionbringsthefascinationofSantayana’sphilosophywithinthecompassofwhatTennysoncalled“asecond-ratesensitivemind”;and,ifmineisacriterion,suchwillfinditofthehigheststimulus.Thisdiscourseonpoetryseemstomeoneofthemostpregnantutterancesonthesubject.Itisnotperfectlyappreciatedbymerelyonereading;butevenifyouhavetobecomeapoettoenjoyitfully,thatwilldoyourselfleastharm.IFpoetryinitshigherreachesismorephilosophicalthanhistory,becauseitpresentsthememorabletypesofmenandthingsapartfromunmeaningcircumstances,soinitsprimarysubstanceandtexturepoetryismorephilosophicalthanprosebecauseitisnearertoourimmediateexperience.Poetrybreaksupthetriteconceptionsdesignatedbycurrentwordsintothesensuousqualitiesoutofwhichthoseconceptionswereoriginallyputtogether.Wenamewhatweconceiveandbelievein,notwhatwesee;things,notimages;souls,notvoicesandsilhouettes.Thisnaming,withthewholeeducationofthesenseswhichitaccompanies,subservestheusesoflife;inordertothreadourwaythroughthelabyrinthofobjectswhichassaultus,wemustmakeagreatselectioninoursensuousexperience;halfofwhatweseeandhearwemustpassoverasinsignificant,whilewepieceouttheotherhalfwithsuchanidealcomplementasisnecessarytoturnitintoafixedandwell-orderedconceptionoftheworld.Thislaborofperceptionandunderstanding,thisspellingofthematerialmeaningofexperience,isenshrinedinourworkadaylanguageandideas;ideaswhichareliterallypoeticinthesensethattheyare“made”(foreveryconceptioninanadultmindisafiction),butwhichareatthesametimeprosaicbecausetheyaremadeeconomically,byabstraction,andforuse.1Whenthechildofpoeticgenius,whohaslearnedthisintellectualandutilitarianlanguageinthecradle,goesafieldandgathersforhimselftheaspectsofnature,hebeginstoencumberhismindwiththemanylivingimpressionswhichtheintellectrejected,andwhichthelanguageoftheintellectcanhardlyconvey;helaborswithhisnamelessburdenofperception,andwasteshimselfinaimlessimpulsesofemotionandreverie,untilfinallythemethodofsomeartoffersaventtohisinspiration,ortosuchpartofitascansurvivethetestoftimeandthedisciplineofexpression.Thepoetretainsbynaturetheinnocenceoftheeye,orrecoversiteasily;hedisintegratesthefictionsofcommonperceptionintotheirsensuouselements,gathersthesetogetheragainintochancegroupsastheaccidentsofhisenvironmentortheaffinitiesofhistemperamentmayconjointhem;andthiswealthofsensationandthisfreedomoffancy,whichmakeanextraordinaryfermentinhisignorantheart,presentlybubbleoverintosomekindofutterance.

119Thefullnessandsensuousnessofsucheffusionsbringthemnearertoouractualperceptionsthancommondiscoursecouldcome;yettheymayeasilyseemremote,overloaded,andobscuretothoseaccustomedtothinkentirelyinsymbols,andnevertobeinterruptedinthealgebraicrapidityoftheirthinkingbyamoment’spauseandexaminationofheart,norevertoplungeforamomentintothattorrentofsensationandimageryoverwhichthebridgeofprosaicassociationshabituallycarriesussafeanddrytosomeconventionalact.Howslightthatbridgecommonlyis,howmuchanaffairoftrestleandwire,wecanhardlyconceiveuntilwehavetrainedourselvestoanextremesharpnessofintrospection.Butpsychologistshavediscovered,whatlaymengenerallywillconfess,thatwehurrybytheprocessionofourmentalimagesaswedobythetrafficofthestreet,intentonbusiness,gladlyforgettingthenoiseandmovementofthescene,andlookingonlyforthecornerwewouldturnorthedoorwewouldenter.Yetinouralertestmomentthedepthsofthesoularestilldreaming;therealworldstandsdrawninbareoutlineagainstabackgroundofchaosandunrest.Ourlogicalthoughtsdominateexperienceonlyastheparallelsandmeridiansmakeacheckerboardofthesea.Theyguideourvoyagewithoutcontrollingthewaves,whichtossforeverinspiteofourabilitytorideoverthemtoourchosenends.Sanityisamadnessputtogooduses;wakinglifeisadreamcontrolled.4Outoftheneglectedrichesofthisdreamthepoetfetcheshiswares.Hedipsintothechaostatunderliestherationalshelloftheworldandbringsupsomesuperfluousimage,someemotiondroppedbytheway,andreattachesittothepresentobject;hereinstatesthingsunnecessary,heemphasizesthingsignored,hepaintsinagainintothelandscapethetintswhichtheintellecthasallowedtofadefromit.Ifheseemssometimestoobscureafact,itisonlybecauseheisrestoringanexperience.Thefirstelementwhichtheintellectrejectsinformingitsideasofthingsistheemotionwhichaccompaniestheperception;andthisemotionisthefirstthingthepoetrestores.Hestopsattheimage,becausehestopstoenjoy.Hewandersintothebypathsofassociationbecausethebypathsaredelightful.Theloveofbeautywhichmadehimgivemeasureandcadencetohiswords,theloveofharmonywhichmadehimrhymethem,reappearinhisimaginationandmakehimselecttherealsothematerialthatisitselfbeautiful,orcapableofassumingbeautifulforms.Thelinkthatbindstogethertheideas,sometimessowideapart,whichhiswitassimilates,ismostoftenthelinkofemotion;theyhaveincommonsomeelementofbeautyorofhorror.

12024.NocturnebySimeonStrunskySimeonStrunskyisoneofthemostbrilliantandcertainlythemostmodestofAmericanjournalists.IregretthatIcannotpraisehim,foratpresentwebothworkinthesameoffice,andkindswordsutteredinpublicwouldcausehimtoavoidmeforever.AllthatisnecessaryisformyreaderstoexaminehisbooksandtheywillsayforthemselveswhatIamrestrainedfromhinting.ThereisaspontaneousplayofchaffinMr.Strunsky’slighterveinwhichisunsurpassedbyanyAmericanhumorist;hismoreinwardmusingiswellexemplifiedbythisselection(fromPost-Impressions,1914).IfyoureadPost-Impressions,ThePatientObserver,BelshassarCourt,ProfessorLatimer’sProgressandSinbadandHisFriends,youwillhavemadeafairstart.StrunskywasborninRussiain1879;studiedattheHoraceMannHighSchool(NewYork)andgraduatedfromColumbiaUniversityin1900.HeworkedonthestaffoftheNewInternationalEncyclopædiain1900–06,andsincethenhasbeenonthestaffoftheNewYorkEveningPost,ofwhichheisnoweditor.ONCEeverythreemonths,withfairregularity,shewasbroughtintotheNightCourt,foundguilty,andfined.Shecameinbetweeneleveno’clockandmidnight,whenthetrafficofthecourtisatitsheaviest,anditwouldbeanhour,perhaps,beforeshewascalledtothebar.Whenherturncameshewouldrisefromherseatatoneendoftheprisoners’benchandconfrontthemagistrate.1Hereyesdidnotreachtothelevelofthemagistrate’sdesk.Apolicemanincitizen’sclotheswouldmountthewitnessstand,takeoathwithaseriousnessofmienwhichwassurprising,inviewofthefrequencywithwhichhewascalledupontorepeattheformula,andtestifyinanilliteratedronetoadefiniteinfractionofthelawoftheState,committedinhispresenceandwithhisencouragement.Whilehespokethemagistratewouldlookattheceiling.Whenshewascalledupontoanswershedefendedherselfwithanobviouslieortwo,whilethemagistratelookedoverherhead.HewouldthencondemnhertopaythesumoftendollarstotheStateandlethergo.2ShecametolookforwardtohervisitsattheNightCourt.3TheNightCourtisnolongeracenterofgeneralinterest.Duringthefirstfewmonthsafteritwasestablished,twoorthreeyearsago,itwasoneofthegreatsightsofagreatcity.Forthenewspapersitwasarichsourceofhuman-intereststories.ItreplacedChinatowninitsappealtovisitorsfromout-of-town.Itstirredeventhelanguidpulsesofthenativeinhabitantwithitsofferingsofsomethingnewinthewayof“life.”Thesociologists,sincereandamateur,crowdedthebenchesandtooknotes.4To-daythenoveltyiswornoff.ThenewspaperslongagoabandonedtheNightCourt,

121clergymengotoitrarelyfortheirtexts,andthetangohastakenitsplace.Butthesociologistsandthecasualvisitorhavenotdisappeared.Seriouspeople,anxiousforanimmediatevisionofthepityoflife,continuetofillthebenchescomfortably.Nosessionofthecourtiswithoutitslittlegroupofsocialinvestigators,amongwhomthewomenareinthemajority.Manyofthemareyoungwomen,exceedinglysympathetic,handsomelygowned,andverywelltakencareof.5Asshesatatoneendoftheprisoners’benchwaitingherturnbeforethemagistrate’sdesk,shewouldcastasidelongglanceovertherailingthatseparatedherfromthehandsomelygowned,gentlybred,sympatheticyoungwomenintheaudience.Sheobservedwithextraordinaryadmirationanddelightthosecharmingfacessoftenedinpity,thegracefulbearing,theadmirablyconstructedyetsimplecoiffures,theeleganceofdress,whichshecomparedwiththebestthatthewindowsinSixthAvenuecouldshow.Shewasamazedtofindsuchgownsactuallybeingworninsteadofremainingasanunattainableidealonsmilinglayfiguresintheshopwindows.6Occupantsoftheprisoners’bencharenotsupposedtostareatthespectators.Shehadtostealaglancenowandthen.HervisitstotheNightCourthadbecomesomuchamatterofroutinethatshewouldventureapeepovertherailingwhilethecaseimmediatelyprecedingherownwasbeingtried.Onceortwiceshewassurprisedbytheclerkwhocalledhername.ShestoodupmechanicallyandfacedthemagistrateasOfficerSmith,incivilianclothes,mountedthewitnessstand.7ShehadnogrudgeagainstOfficerSmith.Shedidnotvisualizehimeitherasapersonorasapartofasystem.Hewasmerelyanincidentofhertrade.ShehadneitherthetrainingnortheimaginationtolookbehindOfficerSmithandseeacommunalpolicywhichhasnotthepowertosuppress,northecouragetoacknowledge,northeskilltoregulate,andsocontentsitselfwithsendingoutfull-fedpolicemenincivilianclothestoworkuptheevidencethatdefendssocietyagainstherkindthroughtheimpositionofatendollarfine.8Tosomeofthewomenonthevisitors’benchesthecrueltyoftheprocesscamehome:thisbusinessofsettingatwo-hundred-poundpolicemanincitizen’sclothes,backedupbymagistrates,clerks,courtcriers,interpreters,andcourtattendants,toworryingatendollarfineoutofahalf-grownwomanunderanenormousimitationostrichplume.Theprofessionalsociologistswerechieflyinterestedinthemoneycostofthisprocesstothetax-payer,andtheytooknotesontheproportionoffirstoffenders.YettheNightCourtisaremarkableadvanceincivilization.Formerly,inadditiontoherfine,theprisonerwouldpayacommissiontotheprofessionalpurveyorofbail.9Sometimes,ifthemagistratewasyoungornewtothebusiness,shewouldbegivenachanceagainstofficerSmith.Shewouldbecalledtothewitnesschairandunderoathbeallowedtoelaborateontheobviouslieswhichconstitutedherusualdefense.Thiswouldgivehertheopportunity,betweenthemagistrate’squestions,ofsweepingthecourtroomwithafull,hungry

122lookforasmuchashalfaminuteatatime.Shesawthewomenintheaudienceonly,andtheirclothes.Thepityintheireyesdidnotmoveher,becauseshewasnotintheleastinterestedinwhattheythought,butinhowtheylookedandwhattheywore.Theywerepartofworldwhichshewouldreadabout—shereadverylittle—inthesocietycolumnsoftheSundaynewspaper.Theywerethewomenaroundwhomheadlineswerewrittenandwhosepictureswereprintedfrequentlyonthefirstpage.10ShecouldstudythemwithcomparativeleisureintheNightCourt.Outsideinthecourseofherdailyroutineshemightcatchanoccasionalglimpseofthesesamewomen,throughthewindowsofapassingtaxi,orinthematinéecrowds,orgoinginandoutofthefashionableshops.Butherworktookherseldomintotheregionoftaxicabsandfashionableshops.Thenatureofheroccupationkepthertofurtivecornersandthedarksideofstreets.Norwassheatsuchtimesinthemoodforjustappreciationofthebeautifulthingsinlife.Morethananyotherwalkoflife,herswasofanexactingnature,callingforintensepowersofconcentrationbothasregardsthepublicandthepolice.ItwasdifferentintheNightCourt.Here,havingnothingtofearandnothingoutoftheusualtohopefor,shemightgiveherselfuptotheestheticcontemplationofabeautifulworldofwhich,atanyothertime,shecouldcatchmerefugitiveaspects.11SometimesIwonderwhypeoplethinkthatlifeisonlywhattheyseeandhear,andnotwhattheyreadof.TaketheNightCourt.Thevisitorreallyseesnothingandhearsnothingthathehasnotreadathousandtimesinhisnewspaperandhaditdescribedingreaterdetailandwithbetter-trainedpowersofobservationthanhecanbringtobearinperson.Whatnewphaseoflifeisrevealedbyseeinginthebody,say,adozenpractitionersofatradeofwhomweknowthereareseveraltensofthousandsinNewYork?Theyhavebeendescribedbythehuman-interestreporters,analyzedbythestatisticians,defendedbythesocialrevolutionaries,andexplainedawaybytheoptimists.Forthatmatter,tothefaithfulreaderofthenewspapers,dailyandSunday,whatcantherebenewinthisworldfromthePyramidsbymoonlighttothehabitsofthenightprowler?Cantheupperclassesreallyacquireforthemselves,throughslummingpartiesandvisitstotheNightCourt,anythingliketheknowledgethatbooksandnewspaperscanfurnishthem?CanthelowerclasseseverhopetoobtainthatcompleteviewoftheFifthAvenuesetwhichtheSundaycolumnsofferthem?Andyettherethecasestands:onlybyseeingandhearingforourselves,howeverimperfectly,dowegetthesenseofreality.12Thatiswhyourcriminalcourtsareprobablyourmostinfluentialschoolsofdemocracy.Morethanoursettlementhouses,morethanoursubsidizeddancing-schoolsforshopgirls,theyencouragetheget-togetherprocessthroughwhichone-halftheworldlearnshowtheotherhalflives.Oneithersideoftherailingoftheprisoners’cageisanaudienceandastage.13ThatiswhyshewouldlookforwardtoherregularvisitsattheNightCourt.Shesawlifethere.

12325.BeerandCiderbyGeorgeSaintsburyHowpleasantitistofindthefamousProfessorSaintsbury—knowntostudentsastheauthorofhistoriesoftheEnglishandFrenchliteratures,theHistoryofCriticismandHistoryofEnglishProsody—spendingtheeveningsohospitablyinhiscellar.Iprintthis—fromhisdownrightdelightfulNotesonaCellarBook—asakindoftantalizingpenance.Itisacharmingexampleofhowpleasantlyagreatscholarcanunbendonoccasion.GeorgeSaintsbury,bornin1845,studiedatMertonCollege,Oxford,taughtschool1868–76,wasajournalistinLondon1876–95,andheldthechairofEnglishLiteratureatEdinburghUniversity,1895–1915.IfyoureadNotesonaCellarBook,asyoushould,youwillagreethatitisacharminglylight-heartedcauserieforagentlemantopublishattheageofseventy-five.Morethaneveronefeelsthatsoundliquor,inmoderation,isapreservativeofbothbodyandwit.THEREisnobeveragewhichIhaveliked“tolivewith”morethanBeer;butIhaveneverhadacellarlargeenoughtoaccommodatemuchofit,oranestablishmentnumerousenoughtojustifytheaccommodation.Inthegooddayswhenservantsexpectedbeer,butdidnotexpecttobetreatedotherwisethanasservants,acaskortwowasnecessary;andpersonswhowere“quite”generallytookcarethatthesmallbeertheydrankshouldbethesameasthatwhichtheygavetotheirdomestics,thoughtheymighthaveothersortsaswell.Forthesebettersortsatleastthegoodoldrulewas,whenyoubeganononecaskalwaystohaveinanother.EvenCobbett,whosebeliefinbeerwasthenoblestfeatureinhischaracter,allowedthatitrequiredsomekeeping.Thecurious“whiteale,”orloberagol—which,withinthememoryofman,usedtoexistinDevonshireandCornwall,butwhich,evenhalfacenturyago,Ihavevainlysoughtthere—was,Ibelieve,drunkquitenew;butthenitwasnotpuremaltandnothoppedatall,buthadeggs(“pulletsperminthebrewage”)andotherforeignbodiesinit.1Ididoncedrink,atSt.David’s,alesonewthatitfrothedfromthecaskascreamilyasifithadbeenbottled:andIwonderedwhetherthefamousbeerofBala,whichBorrowfoundsogoodathisfirstvisitandsobadathissecond,hadbeenlikeit.12Ontheotherhand,theverybestBassIeverdrankhadhadanexactlycontraryexperience.Intheyear1875,whenIwasresidentatElgin,Iandafriendnowdead,theProcurator-Fiscalofthedistrict,devotedtheMay“Sacramentholidays,”whichwerethenstillkeptinthoseremoteparts,toawalkingtouruptheFindhornandacrosstoLochNessandGlenUrquhart.AttheFreeburnInnonthefirst-namedriverwefoundsomebeerofsingularexcellence:and,askingthedamselwhowaitedonusaboutit,wereinformedthatacaskofBasshadbeenputinduringthepreviousOctober,but,owingtoasuddenbreakintheweatherandthedepartureofallvisitors,hadneverbeentappedtillourarrival.3Beerofordinarystrengthlefttoolonginthecaskgets“hard”ofcourse;butnoonewho

124deservestodrinkitwoulddrinkitfromanythingbutthecaskifhecouldhelpit.Jarsaremakeshifts,thoughusefulmakeshifts:andsmallbeerwillnotkeepinthemformuchmorethanaweek.Noraretheverysmallbarrels,knownbyvariousaffectionatediminutives(“pin,”etc.)inthecountrydistricts,muchtoberecommended.“We’lldrinkitinthefirkin,myboy!”isthelowestadmissioninpointofvolumethatshouldbeallowed.OfonesuchfirkinIhaveapleasantmemoryandmemorial,thoughitneverreposedinmyhomecellar.Itwasjustbeforethepresentcenturyopened,andsomeyearsbeforeweProfessorsinScotlandhad,ofourownmotionandagainstconsiderableopposition,givenuphalfoftheoldsixmonths’holidaywithoutaskingfororreceivingapennymoresalary.(IhavesincechuckledatthehorrorandwrathwithwhichMr.SmillieandMr.Thomaswouldhearofsuchprofligateconduct.)Onecouldthereforemoveaboutwithfairlylonghalts:andIhadtakenfromafriendahouseatAbingdonforsometime.So,thoughIcouldnoteventhendrinkquiteasmuchbeerasIcouldthirtyyearsearlieralittlehigheruptheThames,itbecamenecessarytoprocureacask.Itcame—oneofBass’sminormildnesses—affectionatelylabeled“Mr.GeorgeSaintsbury.Fulltothebung.”Idetachedthecard,andIbelieveIhaveittothisdayasmychoicest(becausequiteunsolicited)testimonial.4Verystrongbeerpermitsitself,ofcourse,tobebottledandkeptinbottles:butIratherdoubtwhetheritalsoisnotbestfromthewood;thoughitisequallyofcourse,mucheasiertocellaritandkeepitbottled.Itskindsarevariousandcurious.“Scotchale”isfamous,andatitsbest(IneverdrankbetterthanYounger’s)excellent:butitstendency,Ithink,istobetoosweet.Ionceinvestedinsome—notYounger’s—whichIkeptfornearlysixteenyears,andwhichwasstilltreacleattheend.Bass’sNo.1requiresnopraises.OncewhenlivingintheCambridgeshirevillagementionedearlierIhadsome,bottledinCambridgeitself,ofgreatageandexcellence.Indeed,twoguests,thoughbothofthemwereCambridgemen,andshouldhavehadwhatMr.Langoncecalledthe“robust”habitsofthatUniversity,fellintooneditchafterpartakingofit.(Iownthatthelanesthereaboutsareverydark.)Informerdays,thoughprobablynotatpresent,youcouldoftenfindratherchoicespecimensofstrongbeerproducedatsmallbreweriesinthecountry.IremembersuchevenintheChannelIslands.AndIsuspecttheUniversitiesthemselveshavebeensubjectto“declensionsandfallingsoff.”IknowthatinmyundergraduatedaysatMertonwealwayshadproperbeer-glasses,liketheold“flute”champagnes,servedregularlyatcheese-timewithamostnoblebeercalled“Archdeacon,”whichwasthenactuallybrewedinthesacristyoftheCollegechapel.Ihavesince—aslightsorrowtoseasonthejoyofreinstatementthere—beentoldthatitisnowobtainedfromoutside.2AndAllSoulsistheonlyothercollegeinwhich,fromactualrecentexperience,Icanimaginethepossibilityoftheexorcism,5Strongbeerum!discedealay-fratrePetro,iflay-brotherPeterweresosillyastoabuse,orplaytrickswith,thegoodgift.6Ihaveneverhadmanyexperiencesofreal“home-brewed,”buttwowhichIhadwerepleasing.

125Therewasmuchhome-brewinginEastAngliaatthetimeIlivedthere,andIoncegotthevillagecarpentertogivemesomeofhisownmanufacture.ItwasasgoodlightaleasIeverwishtodrink(manytimesbetterthanthewretchedstuffthatDorahasfoistedonus),andhetoldmethat,countingineveryexpenseformaterial,costandwearofplant,etc.,itcametoaboutapenny3aquart.Theotherwasverydifferent.ThelateLorddeTabley—betteroratleastlongerknownasMr.LeicesterWarren—oncegaveadinnerattheAthenæumatwhichIwaspresent,andhadupfromhisCheshirecellarssomeoftheoldaleforwhichthatcountyissaidtobefamous,tomakeflipafterdinner.Itwasshunnedbymostofthepusillanimousguests,butnotbyme,anditwasexcellent.ButIshouldliketohavetrieditunflipped.47Ineverdrankmum,whichallknowfromTheAntiquary,somefrom“TheRymeofSirLancelotBogle,”andsomeagainfromthenoticewhichMr.Gladstone’sloveofScott(mayitpleadforhim!)gaveitonceinsomeBudgetdebate,Ithink.Itissaidtobebrewedofwheat,whichisnotinitsfavor(wheatwasmeanttobeeaten,notdrunk)andverybitter,whichis.Nearlyallbitterdrinksaregood.TheonlytimeIeverdrank“spruce”beerIdidnotlikeit.Thecomeliestofblackmaltsis,ofcourse,thatnobleliquorcalledofGuinness.HereatleastIthinkEnglandcannotmatchIreland,forourstoutsare,asarule,toosweetand“clammy.”Butthereusedtobeinthecountrydistrictsasortoflightporterwhichwasoneofthemostrefreshingliquidsconceivableforhotweather.IhavedrunkitinYorkshireatthefootofRoseberryTopping,outofbigstonebottleslikechampagnemagnums.Butthatwasnearlysixtyyearsago.Genuinelagerbeerisnomoretobeboycottedthangenuinehock,though,bytheway,thebestthatIeverdrank(itwasatthegoodtownofKing’sLynn)wasLownotHighDutchinorigin.ItwassogoodthatIwrotetotheshippersatRotterdamtoseeifIcouldgetsomesenttoLeith,buttheusualdifficultiesinestablishingconnectionbetweenwholesaledealersandindividualbuyerspreventedthis.Itwas,however,somethingofaconsolationtoreadthedelightfulname,“ourtop-and-bottom-fermentationbeer,”inwhichthemanufacturer’sletter,inverysoundEnglishforthemostpart,spokeofit.EnglishlagerImustsayIhaveneverliked;perhapsIhavebeenunluckyinmyspecimens.AndgoodasScotchstrongbeeris,IcannotsaythatthelighterandmediumkindsareverygoodinScotland.Infact,inEdinburghIusedtoimportbeerofthiskindfromLincolnshire,5wherethereisnomistakeaboutit.MyownprivateopinionisthatJohnBarleycorn,northofTweed,says:“Iamforwhisky,andnotforale.”8“Ciderandperry,”saysBurton,“arewindydrinks”;yetheobservesthattheinhabitantsofcertainshiresinEngland(hedoesnot,Iamsorrytosay,mentionDevon)ofNormandyinFrance,andofGuipuzcoainSpain,“arenowhitoffendedbythem.”IhaveneverlikedperryonthefewoccasionsonwhichIhavetastedit;perhapsbecauseitstastehasalwaysremindedmeofthesmellofsomestuffthatmynurseusedtoputonmyhairwhenIwassmall.ButIcertainlyhavebeennowhitoffendedbycider,eitherindiversEnglishshires,includingveryspeciallythosewhich

126Burtondoesnotinclude,Devon,Dorset,andSomerset,orinNormandy.TheGuipuzcoanvarietyIhave,unfortunately,hadnoopportunityoftasting.Besides,perryseemstometobeanabuseofthatexcellentcreaturethepear,whereascider-applesfurnishoneofthemostcogentargumentstoprovethatProvidencehadtheproductionofalcoholicliquorsdirectlyinitseye.Theyaregoodfornothingelsewhatever,andtheyareexcellentgoodforthat.IthinkIliketheweakciders,suchasthoseofthewestandtheNormandy,betterthanthestrongerones,6anddraughtcidermuchbetterthanbottled.ThatofNorfolk,whichhasbeenmuchcommendedoflate,Ihavenevertasted;butIhavehadbothWesternandWest-Midlandciderinmycellar,ofteninbottleandonceortwiceincask.Itisapitythattheliquor—extremelyagreeabletothetaste,oneofthemostthirst-quenchingtobeanywherefound,ofnooverpoweringalcoholicstrengthasarule,andalmostsovereignforgout—isnottobedrunkwithoutcaution,andsometimeshastobegivenupaltogetherfromothermedicalaspects.Qualifiedwithbrandy—amixturewhichwasfirstimpartedtomeataroadsideinnbyaveryamiableDorsetshirefarmerwhomImetwhilewalkingfromSherbornetoBlandfordinmyfirstOxford“long”—itiscapital:andcider-cupwhoknowethnot?Iftherebeanysuch,lethimnotwaitlongerthanto-morrowbeforeestablishingknowledge.Asforthepurejuiceoftheapple,fourgallonsadaypermanusedtobetheharvestallowanceinSomersetwhenIwasaboy.Itisrefreshingonlytothinkofitnow.9Ofmeadormetheglin,thethirdindigenousliquorofSouthernBritain,Iknowlittle.Indeed,Ishouldhaveknownnothingatallofithaditnotbeenthattheparish-clerkandsextonoftheCambridgeshirevillagewhereIlived,andthecaretakerofavinerywhichIrented,wasabee-keeperandmead-maker.Hegavemesomeonce.Ididnotcaremuchforit.Itwaslikeasweetweakbeer,with,ofcourse,thespecialhoneyflavor.ButIshouldimaginethatitwassusceptibleofagreatmanydifferentmodesofpreparation,anditisobvious,consideringwhatitismadeof,thatitcouldbebrewedofalmostanystrength.Oldliterarynoticesgenerallyspeakofitasstrong.10Note1.Thisvisit(intheearlyeighties)hadanotherrelish.Theinncoffee-roomhadacopyofMr.Freeman’sbookontheadjoiningCathedral,andthiswascopiouslyannotatedinabeautifulandscholarlyhand,butinamostvirulentspirit.“Whycan’tyoucallthingsbytheirplainnames?”(inreferencetothehistorian’sMacaulayesqueperiphrases)etc.Ihaveoftenwonderedwhotheannotatorwas.[back]Note2.WhenIwentupthisMarchtohelpmanthelastditchforGreek,Ihappenedtomention“Archdeacon”:andmyinterlocutortoldmethathebelievednocollegenowbrewedwithinitswalls.Afterthedefeat,IthoughtofthestagesoftheDeclineandFallofThings:andhowasadbutnobleodemightbewritten(bytherightman)ontheFatesofGreekandBeeratOxford.He

127wouldprobablyreferinthefirststrophetothecloseoftheEumenides:initsantistrophetoMr.Swinburne’sgreatadaptationthereofinregardtoCarlyleandNewman;whiletheepodeandanyreduplicationofthepartswouldbeoccupiedbyshowinghowthedepartingentitieswereofnoequivocalmagnificenceliketheEumenidesthemselves;ofnoflawedperfection(atleastasitseemedtotheirpoet)likethetwogreatEnglishwriters,butwhollyadmirableandbeneficent—toogoodforthegenerationwhowouldbanishthem,andwhomtheybanished.[back]Note3.Thiswasoneofthebestillustrationsoftheoldphrase,“agoodpennyworth,”thatIeverknewforcertain.Iaddthetwolastwordsbecauseofamysteriousincidentofmyyouth.Iandoneofmysistersweresittingatawindowinacertainseasideplacewhenweheard,bothofusdistinctlyandrepeatedly,thismysticstreetcry:“Abibleandapillow-caseforapenny!”Irusheddownstairstosecurethisbargain,butthecrierwasnowfaroff,anditwastoolate.[back]Note4.Bytheway,aretheystillasgoodforflipatNewCollege,Oxford,astheywereinthedayswhenitnumberedhardlyanyundergraduatesexceptscholars,andonescholarofmyacquaintancehadtohimselfasetofthreeroomsandagarden?Andis“TheIsland”atKenningtonstillfamousforthesameexcellentcompound?[back]Note5.ItcamefromAlford,thechef-lieu,ifitcannotbecalledthecapital,oftheTennysoncountry.Ihavepleasantassociationswiththeplace,quiteindependentofthebeeryones.Anditmademe,partiallyatleast,alteroneoftheideasofmyearlycriticism—thattimespentonapoet’slocalhabitationswasratherwasted.Ihavealwaysthought“TheDyingSwan”oneofitsauthor’sgreatestthings,andoneofthechampionexamplesofpurepoetryinEnglishliterature.ButIneverfullyheardthe“eddyingsong”that“flooded”thecreepingmossesandclamberingweeds,Andthewillowbrancheshoaranddank,Andthewavyswellofthesoughingreeds,Andthewave-wornhornsoftheechoingbank,Andthesilverymarish-flowersthatthrongThedesolatecreeksandpoolsamong—tillIsawthem.[back]Note6.HerefordshireandWorcestershirecidercanbeverystrongandtheperry,theysay,stillstronger.[back]

12826.AFreeMan’sWorshipByBertrandRussell“AFreeMan’sWorship”waswrittenin1902;itwasrepublishedbyMr.Russellin1918inhisvolumeMysticismandLogic.ItisinterestingtonotecarefullyMr.Russell’sviewsinthisfineessayinconnectionwiththefactthathewasimprisonedbytheBritishGovernmentasapacifistduringtheWar.MuchofMr.Russell’swriting,inmathematicalandphilosophicalfields,isabovetheheadofthedesultoryreader;butsostimulatingapaperasthisoneshouldnotbeneglectedbythemoderatelyinquisitiveamateur.BertrandRussellwasbornin1872,studiedatTrinityCollege,Cambridge,andiswidelyknownasathinkerofuncompromisingliberalism.TODr.FaustusinhisstudyMephistophelestoldthehistoryoftheCreation,saying:1“Theendlesspraisesofthechoirsofangelshadbeguntogrowwearisome;for,afterall,didhenotdeservetheirpraise?Hadhenotgiventhemendlessjoy?Woulditnotbemoreamusingtoobtainundeservedpraise,tobeworshipedbybeingswhomhetortured?Hesmiledinwardly,andresolvedthatthegreatdramashouldbeperformed.2“Forcountlessagesthehotnebulawhirledaimlesslythroughspace.Atlengthitbegantotakeshape,thecentralmassthrewoffplanets,theplanetscooled,boilingseasandburningmountainsheavedandtossed,fromblackmassesofcloudhotsheetsofraindelugedthebarelysolidcrust.Andnowthefirstgermoflifegrewinthedepthsoftheocean,anddevelopedrapidlyinthefructifyingwarmthintovastforesttrees,hugefernsspringingfromthedampmould,seamonstersbreeding,fighting,devouring,andpassingaway.Andfromthemonsters,astheplayunfoldeditself,Manwasborn,withthepowerofthought,theknowledgeofgoodandevil,andthecruelthirstforworship.AndMansawthatallispassinginthismad,monstrousworld,thatallisstrugglingtosnatch,atanycost,afewbriefmomentsoflifebeforeDeath’sinexorabledecree.AndMansaid:‘Thereisahiddenpurpose,couldwebutfathomit,andthepurposeisgood;forwemustreverencesomething,andinthevisibleworldthereisnothingworthyofreverence.’AndManstoodasidefromthestruggle,resolvingthatGodintendedharmonytocomeoutofchaosbyhumanefforts.AndwhenhefollowedtheinstinctswhichGodhadtransmittedtohimfromhisancestryofbeastsofprey,hecalleditSin,andaskedGodtoforgivehim.Buthedoubtedwhetherhecouldbejustlyforgiven,untilheinventedadivinePlanbywhichGod’swrathwastohavebeenappeased.Andseeingthepresentwasbad,hemadeityetworse,thattherebythefuturemightbebetter.AndhegaveGodthanksforthestrengththatenabledhimtoforgoeventhejoysthatwerepossible.AndGodsmiled:andwhenhesawthatManhadbecomeperfectinrenunciationandworship,hesentanothersunthroughthesky,whichcrashedintoMan’ssun;andallreturnedagaintonebula.3

129“‘Yes,’hemurmured,‘itwasagoodplay;Iwillhaveitperformedagain.”’4Such,inoutline,butevenmorepurposeless,morevoidofmeaning,istheworldwhichSciencepresentsforourbelief.Amidsuchaworld,ifanywhere,ouridealshenceforwardmustfindahome.ThatManistheproductofcauseswhichhadnoprevisionoftheendtheywereachieving;thathisorigin,hisgrowth,hishopesandfears,hislovesandhisbeliefs,arebuttheoutcomeofaccidentalcollocationsofatoms;thatnofire,noheroism,nointensityofthoughtandfeeling,canpreserveanindividuallifebeyondthegrave;thatallthelaborsoftheages,allthedevotion,alltheinspiration,allthenoondaybrightnessofhumangenius,aredestinedtoextinctioninthevastdeathofthesolarsystem,andthatthewholetempleofMan’sachievementmustinevitablybeburiedbeneaththedebrisofauniverseinruins—allthesethings,ifnotquitebeyonddispute,areyetsonearlycertain,thatnophilosophywhichrejectsthemcanhopetostand.Onlywithinthescaffoldingofthesetruths,onlyonthefirmfoundationofunyieldingdespair,canthesoul’shabitationhenceforthbesafelybuilt.5How,insuchanalienandinhumanworld,cansopowerlessacreatureasManpreservehisaspirationsuntarnished?AstrangemysteryitisthatNature,omnipotentbutblind,intherevolutionsofhersecularhurryingsthroughtheabyssesofspace,hasbroughtforthatlastachild,subjectstilltoherpower,butgiftedwithsight,withknowledgeofgoodandevil,withthecapacityofjudgingalltheworksofhisunthinkingMother.InspiteofDeath,themarkandsealoftheparentalcontrol,Manisyetfree,duringhisbriefyears,toexamine,tocriticize,toknow,andinimaginationtocreate.Tohimalone,intheworldwithwhichheisacquainted,thisfreedombelongs;andinthislieshissuperioritytotheresistlessforcesthatcontrolhisoutwardlife.6Thesavage,likeourselves,feelstheoppressionofhisimpotencebeforethepowersofNature;buthavinginhimselfnothingthatherespectsmorethanPower,heiswillingtoprostratehimselfbeforehisgods,withoutinquiringwhethertheyareworthyofhisworship.Patheticandveryterribleisthelonghistoryofcrueltyandtorture,ofdegradationandhumansacrifice,enduredinthehopeofplacatingthejealousgods:surely,thetremblingbelieverthinks,whenwhatismostprecioushasbeenfreelygiven,theirlustforbloodmustbeappeased,andmorewillnotberequired.ThereligionofMoloch—assuchcreedsmaybegenericallycalled—isinessencethecringingsubmissionoftheslave,whodarenot,eveninhisheart,allowthethoughtthathismasterdeservesnoadulation.Sincetheindependenceofidealsisnotyetacknowledged,Powermaybefreelyworshiped,andreceiveanunlimitedrespect,despiteitswantoninflictionofpain.7Butgradually,asmoralitygrowsbolder,theclaimoftheidealworldbeginstobefelt;andworship,ifitisnottocease,mustbegiventogodsofanotherkindthanthosecreatedbythesavage.Some,thoughtheyfeelthedemandsoftheideal,willstillconsciouslyrejectthem,stillurgingthatnakedPowerisworthyofworship.SuchistheattitudeinculcatedinGod’sanswertoJoboutofthewhirlwind:thedivinepowerandknowledgeareparaded,butofthedivinegoodness

130thereisnohint.Suchalsoistheattitudeofthosewho,inourownday,basetheirmoralityuponthestruggleforsurvival,maintainingthatthesurvivorsarenecessarilythefittest.Butothers,notcontentwithananswersorepugnanttothemoralsense,willadoptthepositionwhichwehavebecomeaccustomedtoregardasspeciallyreligious,maintainingthat,insomehiddenmanner,theworldoffactisreallyharmoniouswiththeworldofideals.ThusMancreatesGod,all-powerfulandall-good,themysticunityofwhatisandwhatshouldbe.8Buttheworldoffact,afterall,isnotgood;and,insubmittingourjudgmenttoit,thereisanelementofslavishnessfromwhichourthoughtsmustbepurged.ForinallthingsitiswelltoexaltthedignityofMan,byfreeinghimasfaraspossiblefromthetyrannyofnon-humanPower.WhenwehaverealizedthatPowerislargelybad,thatman,withhisknowledgeofgoodandevil,isbutahelplessatominaworldwhichhasnosuchknowledge,thechoiceisagainpresentedtous:ShallweworshipForce,orshallweworshipGoodness?ShallourGodexistandbeevil,orshallheberecognizedasthecreationofourownconscience?9Theanswertothisquestionisverymomentous,andaffectsprofoundlyourwholemorality.TheworshipofForce,towhichCarlyleandNietzscheandthecreedofMilitarismhaveaccustomedus,istheresultoffailuretomaintainourownidealsagainstahostileuniverse:itisitselfaprostratesubmissiontoevil,asacrificeofourbesttoMoloch.Ifstrengthindeedistoberespected,letusrespectratherthestrengthofthosewhorefusethatfalse“recognitionoffacts”whichfailstorecognizethatfactsareoftenbad.Letusadmitthat,intheworldweknowtherearemanythingsthatwouldbebetterotherwise,andthattheidealstowhichwedoandmustadherearenotrealizedintherealmofmatter.Letuspreserveourrespectfortruth,forbeauty,fortheidealofperfectionwhichlifedoesnotpermitustoattain,thoughnoneofthesethingsmeetwiththeapprovaloftheunconsciousuniverse.IfPowerisbad,asitseemstobe,letusrejectitfromourhearts.InthisliesMan’struefreedom:indeterminationtoworshiponlytheGodcreatedbyourownloveofthegood,torespectonlytheheavenwhichinspirestheinsightofourbestmoments.Inaction,indesire,wemustsubmitperpetuallytothetyrannyofoutsideforces;butinthought,inaspiration,wearefree,freefromourfellowmen,freefromthepettyplanetonwhichourbodiesimpotentlycrawl,freeeven,whilewelive,fromthetyrannyofdeath.Letuslearn,then,thatenergyoffaithwhichenablesustoliveconstantlyinthevisionofthegood;andletusdescend,inaction,intotheworldoffact,withthatvisionalwaysbeforeus.10Whenfirsttheoppositionoffactandidealgrowsfullyvisible,aspiritoffieryrevolt,offiercehatredofthegods,seemsnecessarytotheassertionoffreedom.TodefywithPrometheanconstancyahostileuniverse,tokeepitsevilalwaysinview,alwaysactivelyhated,torefusenopainthatthemaliceofPowercaninvent,appearstobethedutyofallwhowillnotbowbeforetheinevitable.Butindignationisstillabondage,foritcompelsourthoughtstobeoccupiedwithanevilworld;andinthefiercenessofdesirefromwhichrebellionspringsthereisakindof

131self-assertionwhichitisnecessaryforthewisetoovercome.Indignationisasubmissionofourthoughts,butnotofourdesires;theStoicfreedominwhichwisdomconsistsisfoundinthesubmissionofourdesires,butnotofourthoughts.Fromthesubmissionofourdesiresspringsthevirtueofresignation;fromthefreedomofourthoughtsspringsthewholeworldofartandphilosophy,andthevisionofbeautybywhich,atlast,wehalfreconquerthereluctantworld.Butthevisionofbeautyispossibleonlytounfetteredcontemplation,tothoughtsnotweightedbytheloadofeagerwishes;andthusFreedomcomesonlytothosewhonolongeraskoflifethatitshallyieldthemanyofthosepersonalgoodsthataresubjecttothemutationsofTime.11Althoughthenecessityofrenunciationisevidenceoftheexistenceofevil,yetChristianity,inpreachingit,hasshownawisdomexceedingthatofthePrometheanphilosophyofrebellion.Itmustbeadmittedthat,ofthethingswedesire,some,thoughtheyproveimpossible,areyetrealgoods;others,however,asardentlylongedfor,donotformpartofafullypurifiedideal.Thebeliefthatwhatmustberenouncedisbad,thoughsometimesfalse,isfarlessoftenfalsethanuntamedpassionsupposes;andthecreedofreligion,byprovidingareasonforprovingthatitisneverfalse,hasbeenthemeansofpurifyingourhopesbythediscoveryofmanyausteretruths.12Butthereisinresignationafurthergoodelement:evenrealgoods,whentheyareunattainable,oughtnottobefretfullydesired.Toeverymancomes,soonerorlater,thegreatrenunciation.Fortheyoung,thereisnothingunattainable;agoodthingdesiredwiththewholeforceofapassionatewill,andyetimpossible,istothemnotcredible.Yet,bydeath,byillness,bypoverty,orbythevoiceofduty,wemustlearn,eachoneofus,thattheworldwasnotmadeforus,andthat,howeverbeautifulmaybethethingswecravefor,Fatemayneverthelessforbidthem.Itisthepartofcourage,whenmisfortunecomes,tobearwithoutrepiningtheruinofourhopes,toturnawayourthoughtsfromvainregrets.ThisdegreeofsubmissiontoPowerisnotonlyjustandright:itistheverygateofwisdom.13Butpassiverenunciationisnotthewholewisdom;fornotbyrenunciationalonecanwebuildatemplefortheworshipofourownideals.Hauntingforeshadowingsofthetempleappearintherealmofimagination,inmusic,inarchitecture,intheuntroubledkingdomreason,andinthegoldensunsetmagicoflyrics,wherebeautyshinesandglows,remotefromthetouchofsorrow,remotefromthefearofchange,remotefromthefailuresanddisenchantmentsoftheworldoffact.Inthecontemplationofthesethingsthevisionofheavenwillshapeitselfinourhearts,givingatonceatouchstonetojudgetheworldaboutus,andaninspirationbywhichtofashiontoourneedswhateverisnotincapableofservingasastoneinthesacredtemple.14Exceptforthoserarespiritsthatarebornwithoutsin,thereisacavernofdarknesstobetraversedbeforethattemplecanbeentered.Thegateofthecavernisdespair,anditsfloorispavedwiththegravestonesofabandonedhopes.ThereSelfmustdie;theretheeagerness,the

132greedofuntameddesiremustbeslain,foronlysocanthesoulbefreedfromtheempireofFate.ButoutofthecaverntheGateofRenunciationleadsagaintothedaylightofwisdom,bywhoseradianceanewinsight,anewjoy,anewtenderness,shineforthtogladdenthepilgrim’sheart.15When,withoutthebitternessofimpotentrebellion,wehavelearntbothtoresignourselvestotheoutwardruleofFateandtorecognizethatthenon-humanworldisunworthyofourworship,itbecomespossibleatlastsototransformandrefashiontheunconsciousuniverse,sototransmuteitinthecrucibleofimagination,thatanewimageofshininggoldreplacestheoldidolofclay.Inallthemultiformfactsoftheworld—inthevisualshapesoftreesandmountainsandclouds,intheeventsofthelifeofman,evenintheveryomnipotenceofDeath—theinsightofcreativeidealismcanfindthereflectionofabeautywhichitsownthoughtsfirstmade.InthiswaymindassertsitssubtlemasteryoverthethoughtlessforcesofNature.Themoreevilthematerialwithwhichitdeals,themorethwartingtountraineddesire,thegreaterisitsachievementininducingthereluctantrocktoyieldupitshiddentreasures,theprouderitsvictoryincompellingtheopposingforcestoswellthepageantofitstriumph.Ofallthearts,Tragedyistheproudest,themosttriumphant;foritbuildsitsshiningcitadelintheverycenteroftheenemy’scountry,ontheverysummitofhishighestmountain;fromitsimpregnablewatch-towers,hiscampsandarsenals,hiscolumnsandforts,areallrevealed;withinitswallsthefreelifecontinues,whilethelegionsofDeathandPainandDespair,andalltheservilecaptainsoftyrantFate,affordtheburghersofthatdauntlesscitynewspectaclesofbeauty.Happythosesacredramparts,thricehappythedwellersonthatall-seeingeminence.Honortothosebravewarriorswho,throughcountlessagesofwarfare,havepreservedforusthepricelessheritageofliberty,andhavekeptundefiledbysacrilegiousinvadersthehomeoftheunsubdued.16ButthebeautyofTragedydoesbutmakevisibleaqualitywhich,inmoreorlessobviousshapes,ispresentalwaysandeverywhereinlife.InthespectacleofDeath,intheenduranceofintolerablepain,andintheirrevocablenessofavanishedpast,thereisasacredness,anoverpoweringawe,afeelingofthevastness,thedepth,theinexhaustiblemysteryofexistence,inwhich,asbysomestrangemarriageofpain,thesuffererisboundtotheworldbybondsofsorrow.Inthesemomentsofinsight,welosealleagernessoftemporarydesire,allstrugglingandstrivingforpettyends,allcareforthelittletrivialthingsthat,toasuperficialview,makeupthecommonlifeofdaybyday;wesee,surroundingthenarrowraftilluminedbytheflickeringlightofhumancomradeship,thedarkoceanonwhoserollingwaveswetossforabriefhour;fromthegreatnightwithout,achillblastbreaksinuponourrefuge;allthelonelinessofhumanityamidhostileforcesisconcentratedupontheindividualsoul,whichmuststrugglealone,withwhatofcourageitcancommand,againstthewholeweightofauniversethatcaresnothingforitshopesandfears.Victory,inthisstrugglewiththepowersofdarkness,isthetruebaptismintotheglorious

133companyofheroes,thetrueinitiationintotheovermasteringbeautyofhumanexistence.Fromthatawfulencounterofthesoulwiththeouterworld,renunciation,wisdom,andcharityareborn;andwiththeirbirthanewlifebegins.Totakeintotheinmostshrineofthesoultheirresistibleforceswhosepuppetsweseemtobe—Deathandchange,theirrevocablenessofthepast,andthepowerlessnessofmanbeforetheblindhurryoftheuniversefromvanitytovanity—tofeelthesethingsandknowthemistoconquerthem.17ThisisthereasonwhythePasthassuchmagicalpower.Thebeautyofitsmotionlessandsilentpicturesisliketheenchantedpurityoflateautumn,whentheleaves,thoughonebreathwouldmakethemfall,stillglowagainsttheskyingoldenglory.ThePastdoesnotchangeorstrive;likeDuncan,afterlife’sfitfulfeveritsleepswell;whatwaseagerandgrasping,whatwaspettyandtransitory,hasfadedaway,thethingsthatwerebeautifulandeternalshineoutofitlikestarsinthenight.Itsbeauty,toasoulnotworthyofit,isunendurable;buttoasoulwhichhasconqueredFateitisthekeyofreligion.18ThelifeofMan,viewedoutwardly,isbutasmallthingincomparisonwiththeforcesofNature.TheslaveisdoomedtoworshipTimeandFateandDeath,becausetheyaregreaterthananythinghefindsinhimself,andbecauseallhisthoughtsareofthingswhichtheydevour.But,greatastheyare,tothinkofthemgreatly,tofeeltheirpassionlesssplendor,isgreaterstill.Andsuchthoughtmakesusfreemen;wenolongerbowbeforetheinevitableinOrientalsubjection,butweabsorbit,andmakeitapartofourselves.Toabandonthestruggleforprivatehappiness,toexpelalleagernessoftemporarydesire,toburnwithpassionforeternalthings—thisisemancipation,andthisisthefreeman’sworship.AndthisliberationiseffectedbyacontemplationofFate;forFateitselfissubduedbythemindwhichleavesnothingtobepurgedbythepurifyingfireofTime.19Unitedwithhisfellow-menbythestrongestofallties,thetieofacommondoom,thefreemanfindsthatanewvisioniswithhimalways,sheddingovereverydailytaskthelightoflove.ThelifeofManisalongmarchthroughthenight,surroundedbyinvisiblefoes,torturedbywearinessandpain,towardsagoalthatfewcanhopetoreach,andwherenonemaytarrylong.Onebyone,astheymarch,ourcomradesvanishfromoursight,seizedbythesilentordersofomnipotentDeath.Verybriefisthetimeinwhichwecanhelpthem,inwhichtheirhappinessormiseryisdecided.Beitourstoshedsunshineontheirpath,tolightentheirsorrowsbythebalmofsympathy,togivethemthepurejoyofanever-tiringaffection,tostrengthenfailingcourage,toinstilfaithinhoursofdespair.Letusnotweighingrudgingscalestheirmeritsanddemerits,butletusthinkonlyoftheirneed—ofthesorrows,thedifficulties,perhapstheblindnesses,thatmakethemiseryoftheirlives;letusrememberthattheyarefellow-sufferersinthesamedarkness,actorsinthesametragedywithourselves.Andso,whentheirdayisover,whentheirgoodandtheirevilhavebecomeeternalbytheimmortalityofthepast,beitourstofeelthat,wherethey

134suffered,wheretheyfailed,nodeedofourswasthecause;butwhereverasparkofthedivinefirekindledintheirhearts,wewerereadywithencouragement,withsympathy,withbravewordsinwhichhighcourageglowed.20BriefandpowerlessisMan’slife;onhimandallhisracetheslow,suredoomfallspitilessanddark.Blindtogoodandevil,recklessofdestruction,omnipotentmatterrollsonitsrelentlessway;forMan,condemnedto-daytolosehisdearest,to-morrowhimselftopassthroughthegateofdarkness,itremainsonlytocherish,ereyettheblowfalls,theloftythoughtsthatennoblehislittleday;disdainingthecowardterrorsoftheslaveofFate,toworshipattheshrinethathisownhandshavebuilt;undismayedbytheempireofchance,topreserveamindfreefromthewantontyrannythatruleshisoutwardlife;proudlydefiantoftheirresistibleforcesthattolerate,foramoment,hisknowledgeandhiscondemnation,tosustainalone,awearybutunyieldingAtlas,theworldthathisownidealshavefashioneddespitethetramplingmarchofunconsciouspower.

13527.SomeHistoriansbyPhilipGuedallaPhilipGuedalla,born1889,isaLondonbarristerandatthepresenttimeanIndependentLiberalcandidatefortheHouseofCommons.Hehaswrittenexcellentlightverseandparodies,andatextbookonEuropeanhistory,1715–1815.HismostconspicuousachievementsofaristhebrilliantvolumeSupersandSupermen,fromwhichmyselectionistaken.SupersandSupermenisacollectionofhistoricalandpoliticalportraitsandskits.Itismercilesslyandgloriouslyhumorous.ThosewhocanalwaysfollowthewitandironythatGuedallaknowshowtoconcealinacunninglyturnedphrase,willfindthebookaprodigiousdelight.Hehasanunerringeyefortheabsurd;hisparadoxes,whenpondered,haveawayofprovingexcellenttruth.(TruthissometimeslikethefurnitureinThroughtheLookingGlass,whichcouldonlybereachedbyresolutelywalkingawayfromit.)TenyearsagoMr.GuedallawasconsideredthemostcontinuouslyandinsolentlybrilliantundergraduateoftheOxfordofthatday.Thecharmandvigorofhisironicalwithavenotlessenedsincehisfellow-undergraduatesstrovetoconvincethemselvesthatnomancouldbeascleveras“P.G.”seemedtobe.WhenMr.Guedalla“holdsthemirroruptoNietzsche”or“givesthanksthatBritonsneverneverwillbeSlavs,”ordynasticizesHenryJamesintothreereigns:“JamesI,JamesII,andtheOldPretender;”orwhenhespeaksof“thecheerfulclatterofSirJamesBarrie’scansashewentroundwiththemilkofhumankindness,”therewillbesomewhowillsigh;buttherewillalso(Ihope)bemanywhowillforgivethebravadoforthequicksilverwit.ITwasQuintillianorMr.MaxBeerbohmwhosaid,“Historyrepeatsitself:historiansrepeateachother.”Thesayingisfullofthemellowwisdomofeitherwriter,andstampedwiththepeculiarveracityoftheSilverAgeofRomanorBritishepigram.Onemighthaveadded,iftheaphoristhadstayedforananswer,thathistoryisratherinterestingwhenitrepeatsitself:historiansarenot.InFrance,whichisanenlightenedcountryenjoyingthebenefitsoftheRevolutionandapublicexaminationinrhetoric,historiansareexpectedtowriteinasingleandclassicalstyleofFrench.Theresultissometimesaratherirritatinguniformity;itisonelongTainethathasnoturning,andanyquotationmaybeattributedwithsafetytoGuizot,becauselanuittousleschatssontgris.ButinEngland,whichisafreecountry,therestrictionsnaturaltoignorant(andimmoral)foreignersareputoffbytheroughislandrace,andhistoryiswritteninadialectwhichisnotcurablebyeducation,andcannot(itwouldseem)bepreventedbyinjunction.1Historians’Englishisnotastyle;itisanindustrialdisease.ThethingisprobablyscheduledintheWorkmen’sCompensationAct,andthepublishermayberequireduponnoticeoftheattacktomakeasuitablepaymenttothewriter’sdependants.Theworkersinthisdangeroustradeare

136requiredtoadopt(likeMahomet’scoffin)adetachedstandpoint—thatis,towriteasiftheytooknointerestinthesubject.Sinceitisnotconsideredgoodformforagraduateoflessthansixtyyears’standingtowriteuponanyperiodthatiseitherfamiliarorinteresting,thisfeelingiseasilyacquired,andtheresultingnarrationspresentthedrearyimpartialityoftheRecordingAngelwithoutthatcompletenesswhichisthesoleattractionofhisstyle.WildecomplainedofMr.HallCainethathewroteatthetopofhisvoice;butamodernhistorian,whenheisreallydetached,writeslikesomeonetalkinginthenextroom,andfewwritershaveequaledthelegalprecisionofCoxe’sobservationthattheTurks“sawedtheArchbishopandtheCommandantinhalf,andcommittedothergraveviolationsofinternationallaw.”2Havingpurgedhismindofallunsteadyinginterestinthesubject,theyounghistorianshouldadoptamoralcodeofmorethanMalthusianseverity,whichmaybelearnedfromanyAmericanwriterofthelastcenturyupontheRenaissanceorthedecadenceofSpain.Thismanner,whichisespeciallynecessaryinpassagesdealingwithcharacter,willlendtohisworkthegravedignitythatisrequisitefortranslationintoLatinprose,thatsupremetestofanhistorian’sstyle.Itwillbehismisfortunetomeetuponthebywaysofhistorytheoddestandmostabnormalpersons,andheshouldkeepbyhim(unlesshewishestoforfeithisFellowship)someconvenientformulabywhichhemayindicateatoncetheenormityofthesubjectandthedisapprovalofthewriter.ThewritingsofLordMacaulaywillfurnishhimatneedwiththenecessaryfacilityinlightningcharacterization.ItwasthepracticeofCicerotolabelhiscontemporarieswithoutdistinctionas“heavymen,”andthecharactersofhistoryareeasilydivisibleinto“far-seeingstatesmen”and“recklesslibertines.”ItmaybeobjectedthatalthoughitissufficientforthepurposesofcontemporarycaricaturetorepresentMr.GladstoneasacollarorMr.Chamberlainasaneye-glass,itisaninadequaterecordforposterity.Butitisimpossibleforabusymantowritehistorywithoutformulæ,andafterallsheeparesheepandgoatsaregoats.LordMacaulayoncewroteofsomeone,“Inprivatelifehewasstern,morose,andinexorable”;hewasprobablyaDutchman.Itisapassagewhichhasservedasalastingmodelforthehistorian’streatmentofcharacter.IhadalwaysimaginedthatClichéwasasuburbofParis,untilIdiscoveredittobeastreetinOxford.Thus,iftheworkinghistorianisfacedwithaperiodof“deplorableexcesses,”hehandlesitlikeaman,andwritesalwaysasifhewasillustratedwithsteelengravings:3Theimbecilekingnowripenedrapidlytowardsacrisis.SurroundedbyaCourtinwhichtheinanityofthedaywasrivaledonlybythedebaucheryofthenight,hebecameincapabletowardstheyear1472ofdistinguishinggoodfromevil,afactwhichcontributedconsiderablytotheeffectivenessofhisforeignpolicy,butwashardlycalculatedtoconformwiththemonastictraditionsofhisHouse.Longnightsofdrinkanddicingweakenedaconstitutionthatwasalreadyundermined,andthecouncil-table,whereonceCampoSantahadpresided,wasdisfiguredwiththedespicableapparatusofBagatelle.Theburghersofthecapitalwerehorrifiedbythewild

137laughterofhismadcapcourtiers,andwhenitwasreportedinLondonthatLadislashadplayedatHalmatheCourtofSt.James’sreceivedhisenvoyinthedeepestofceremonialmourning.4Thatispreciselyhowitisdone.ThepassageexhibitsthebenignandcontemporaryinfluencesofLordMacaulayandMr.Bowdler,anditcontainsallthenecessaryingredients,exceptperhapsa“venalChancellor”anda“greedymistress.”Viceisasubjectofespecialinteresttohistorians,whoareinmostcasesresidentsinsmallcountytowns;andthereisunboundedtruthintherococofootnoteofawriterontheRenaissance,whosaidàproposofaPope:“Thedisgustingdetailsofhisvicessmacksomewhatofthemorbidhistorian’slamp.”ThenoteitselfisafineexampleofthatconcretevisualizationofthesubjectwhichledMacaulaytoobservethatinconsequenceofFrederick’sinvasionofSilesia“blackmenfoughtonthecoastofCoromandelandredmenscalpedeachotherbytheGreatLakesofNorthAmerica.”5Alessexcitingbranchofthehistorian’sworkisthereproductionofcontemporarysayingsandspeeches.Thus,anobituaryshouldalwayscloseonanoteofregretfulquotation:6Helivedinaffluenceanddiedingreatpain“Thus,”itwassaidbythemosteloquentofhiscontemporaries,“thusterminatedacareerasvariedasitwaseventful,asstrangeasitwasunique.”7Butforthelongereffortsofsustainedeloquencegreaterartisrequired.Itisnolongerusual,asinThucydides’day,tocomposecompletelynewspeeches,butitispermissibleforthehistoriantoheightenthecolorsandeventoinsertthoserhetoricalquestionsandcomplexesofpersonalpronounswhichwillrenderthetranslationofthepassageintoLatinproseaworkofconsuminginterestandlastingprofit:8TheDukeassembledhiscompanionsfortheforlornhope,andaddressedthembrieflyinoratioobliqua.“Hisfather,”hesaid,“hadalwayscherishedinhishearttheideathathewouldonedayreturntohisownpeople.Hadhefalleninvain?Wasitfornothingthattheyhaddyedwiththeirloyalbloodthesoilofahundredbattlefields?Thepastwasdead,thefuturewasyettocome.Letthemrememberthatgreatsacrificeswerenecessaryfortheattainmentofgreatends,letthemthinkoftheirhomesandfamilies,andiftheyhadanypityforanexile,anoutcast,andanorphan,letthemdiefighting.”9ThatisthekindofpassagethatusedtosendthebloodofDr.Bradleycoursingmorequicklythroughhisveins.Themarchofitseloquence,thesolemnityofitssentiment,andtherichbalanceofitspronounsunitetomakeitamodelforallhistorians:itcanbeadaptedforanyperiod.10Itisnotpossibleinashortreviewtoincludethespecialbranchesofthesubject.Sucharethoseefficientmoderntext-books,inwhicheventsarereferredtoeitheras“factors”(asiftheywereasum)oras“phases”(asiftheywerethemoon).Thereisalsothesolemnbusinessofwritingeconomichistory,inwhichthehistorianmaylapseatwillintoalgebra,andanythingnototherwisedescribablemaybecalled“socialtissue.”Aspecialsubjectisconstitutedbytheearly

138conquestsofSouthernandCentralAmerica;inthesethereisauniformopeningforallpassagesrunning:11ItwasnowthemiddleofOctober,andtheseasonwasdrawingtoanend.Soonthemountainswouldbewhitenedwiththesnowsofwinterandeveryrivuletswollentoaroaringtorrent.Cortez,whosedeterminationonlyincreasedwithmisfortune,decidedtodelayhismarchuntiltheinclemencyoftheseasonabated.…ItwasnowthemiddleofNovember,andtheseasonwasdrawingtoanend.…12Thereis,finally,themethodofmilitaryhistory.Thismaybepatriotic,technical,orinthemannerpropheticallyindicatedbyVirgilasBelloc,horridaBelloc.ThefinestexponentofthepatrioticstyleisundoubtedlytheRev.W.H.Fitchett,adistinguishedcolonialclergymanandhistorianoftheNapoleonicwars.Hisnight-attacksaremorenocturnal,andhisscalingpartiesaremoreheroicallyscaligerousthanthoseofanyotherwriter.Hisdrummer-boysarethemostmovinginmylimitedcircleofdrummer-boys.OnegathersthatthePeninsularWarwasfullofpleasingincidentsofthistype:13TheNightAttackItwasmidnightwhenStaff-SurgeonPettigrewshowedtheflarefromthesummitofSombrero.Atoncethewholeplainwasalivewiththehumofthegreatassault.Thefourcolumnsspeedilygotintopositionwithflaresandbuglesattheheadofeach.Onemadestraightforthewatergate,asecondfortheBailey-guard,athirdforthePorter-house,andthelast(ledbythesaintlySmeathe)fortheTubestation.Letusfollowthesecondcolumnonitssecretmissionthroughthenight,litbytorchesandcheeredonbythehuzzasofathousandEnglishthroats.“—the—s,”criedCockerinavoicehoarsewithpatriotism;atthatmomentared-hotshothurtledovertheplainand,ricochetingtreacherouslyfromthefrozenriver,dashedtheheroicleadertotheground.CaptainBoffskin,oftheBuffs,leaptupwiththedrycoughinghowloftheBritishinfantryman.“—them,”heroared,“—themto—”;andforthelastfiftyyardsitwasneckandneckwiththeladders.Ourgallantdrummerboyslaidtoagain,butsuddenlyashotrangoutfromthesilentramparts.The94thLégerwereawake.Wewerediscovered!14Thewarof1870requiresmorespecialtreatment.Itshistoriesshownoparticularcharacteristic,butitsappearanceinfictiondeservesspecialattention.Thereisastandardpattern.15HowthePrussiansCameToGuitry-Le-SecItwasalateafternooninearlySeptember,oranearlyafternooninlateSeptember—Iforgetthesethings—whenImissedtheboatexpressfromKerplouarnectoPouzy-le-roiandwasforcedbythetime-tabletospendthreehoursattheforgottenhamletofGuitry-le-sec,intheheartofDauphiné.Itcontainedbesidesaquantityofunderfedpoultryonewhitechurch,onewhitemairie,andnine

139whitehouses.Anoldmanwithawhitebeardcametowardsmeupthelongwhiteroad.“Itwasonjustsuchanafternoonasthisfortyyearsago,”hebegan,“that…”16“Stop!”Isaidsharply.“Ihavemetyouinapreviousexistence.YouaregoingtosaythatasolitaryUhlanappearedsharplyoutlinedagainsttheskybehindM.Jules’farm.”Henoddedfeebly.17“TheredtrousershadleftthevillagehalfanhourbeforetolookforthehatedPrussianinthecafésoftheneighboringtown.Youwerealonewhenthespikedhelmetsmarchedin.Youcanheartheirshriekingfifestothisday.”Heweptquietly.18Iwenton.“Therewasanofficerwiththem,aproud,uglymanwithabutter-coloredmustache.HesawthelittleMimianddrovehiscoarseSuabianhandupwardthroughhisMecklenburgermustache.Youdroppedononeknee.…”Buthehadfled.19InthefirstofthethreecafésIsawasecondoldman.“Comein,Monsieur,”hesaid.Iwaitedonthedoorstep.“Itwasonjustsuchanafternoon.…”Iwenton.Attheothertwocaféstwofurtheroldmenattemptedmewiththestory;ItoldthelastthathewasrescuedbyZouaves,andwalkedhappilytothestation,toreadaboutVichyCélestinsuntilthetraincameinfromthesouth.20TheRusso-JapaneseWarisamoreoriginalsubjectandderivesitsparticularflavorfromtheairygracewithwhichSirIanHamiltonhasdescribedit.Likethis:21WAO-WAO,Jan.31.—TherafalewaspurringlikeamistralasIshavedthismorning.Iwonderwhereitis;mustask—.—isacharmingfellowwiththefaceofaBaluchiKashgaiandavoicelikeacircularsaw.2211:40—Itwaseleven—fortywhenlookedatmywatch.Theshrapnel-burstslooklikeaplantationofpowder-puffssuspendedinthesky.Victorsaysthereisabattlegoingon:capitalchapVictor.232P.M.—LunchedwithanAmericanlady-doctor.HowfemininetheAmericanscanbe.247P.M.—Agreatday.ItwasDonkelsdorpoveragain.SubstitutetheTenthArmyfortheTraffordshire’sbaggagewagon,swellHonksSpruitintotheroaringWang-ho,elevateOomKopintothefrowningscarpofPyjiyama,andyouhaveit.TheStaffwereobviouslygratifiedwhenItoldthemaboutDonkelsdorp.25TheRooskiscameoverthecrest-lineinahuddleofmassedbattalions,andGazekawasafterthemlikearatafteraterrier.Iknewthathishorsegunshadnohorses(aruleoftheJapaneseservicetodiscourageunnecessarychangingofground),buthismenbitthetrailsanddraggedthemupbytheirteeth.SlowlytheMuscovitespeeledoffthesteamingmountainandtookthefuniculardowntheotherside.26IwonderwhatmyfriendSmutswouldmakeoftheYen-taicoalmine?Well,well.—“Somethingaccomplished,somethingdone.”27Thetechnicalmannerismoredifficultofacquisitionforthebeginner,sinceitinvolvesa

140knowledgeofatleasttwoEuropeanlanguages.Itiscardinalrulethatallplacesshouldbedescribedaspointsd’appui,thesimpleprocessofscoutinglooksfarbetterasVerschleierung,andtheadjective“strategical”maybeusedwithoutanymeaninginfrontofanynoun.28Butthemilitarymannerwasrevolutionizedbythewar.Mr.BelloccreatedanewLandandanewWater.WeknownowwhythePersiancommandersdemanded“earthandwater”ontheirentranceintoaGreektown;itwastheweeklydemandoftheGreatGeneralStaff,asitcalledforitsfavoritepaper.Mr.BellochaswovenBaedekerandgeometryintoanewstyle:itisthelastcryofhistorians’English,becauseonewasinventedbyaGermanandtheotherbyaGreek.

14128.WinterMistbyRobertPalfreyUtterRobertPalfreyUtterwasbornin1875,inOlympia,Washington.HegraduatedfromHarvard(IamsorrytherearesomanyHarvardmeninthisbook:Ididn’tknowtheywereHarvardmenuntiltoolate)in1898andtookhisPh.D.therein1906.Afteravariedexperience,includingeditorialworkontheYouth’sCompanion,reportingontheNewYorkEveningPost,ranchinginMexicoandgraduatestudyatHarvard,hewenttoAmherst,1906–18,asassociateprofessorofEnglish.HewasonthefacultyoftheA.E.F.UniversityatBeaune,France,1919;andin1920becameassociateprofessorofEnglishattheUniversityofCalifornia.Mr.Utterhascontributedlargelytothemagazines,andhaspublishedGuidetoGoodEnglish(1914),Every-DayWordsandTheirUses(1916>,andEvery-DayPronunciation(1918).FormerstudentsofhisatAmhersthavetoldmeofthelastingstimulushisteachinghasgiventhem:thathecanbeautifullypractisewhathepreachesoftheartofwriting,thisessayshows.FROMamagazinewitharathercynicalcoverIlearnedveryrecentlythatforpondskatingthepropercostumeisbrownhomespunwithafurcollaronthejacket,whereasforprivaterinksonewearsagrayherringbonesuitandtaupe-coloredalpine.Oh,barrenyearsthatIhavebeenaskater,andnoonetoldmeofthis!Andhere’sanotherthing.Iwaspatientlytryingtoacquireacounterturnundertheidlegazeofahockeyplayerwhohadnobetterbusinesstilltheothersarrivedthantowatchmyefforts.“WhatIdon’tseeaboutthatgame,”hesaidatlast,“iswhowins?”Ithadneveroccurredtometoask.Helookedbored,andIrememberedthatthepicturesinthemagazineshowedthewearersofthecarefulcostumesforrinkandpondskatingashavingratherblankeyesthatlookedillimitablybored.Ihavehopesofthe“rocker”andthe“mohawk”;ImightacquireapropercostumeforskatingonasmallriverifIcouldlearnwhatitis;butaboredlook—why,evenhockeydoesnotboreme,unlessIstoptowatchit.Idon’twonderthatthosewhoplayitlookbored.EvenAlexander,whoplayedamoreimaginativegamethanhockey,wasbored—poorfellow,heshouldhavetakenupfancyskatinginhisyouth;Ineverheardofahumanbeingwhopretendedtoacompleteconquestofit.1Ilikepondskatingbestbymoonlight.Thehollowamongthehillswillalwayshaveabitofmistaboutit,lettheskybeclearasitmay.Themoonlight,whichseemssolucidandbrilliantwhenyoulookup,isallpearlandsmokeroundthepondandthehills.Theshorethatwaslikeironunderyourheelasyoucamedowntotheiceisvague,whenyoulookbackatitfromthecenterofthepond,asthememoryofadream.Themotionislikeflyinginadream;youfloatfreeandtheworldfloatsunderyou;yourvelocityiswithouteffortandwithoutaccomplishment,for,speedasyoumay,youleavenothingbehindandapproachnothing.Youlookupward.Themistisoverheadnow;youseethemoonina“hollowhalo”atthebottomofan“icycrystalcup,”andyouyourselfareinjustsuchanother.Themist,palelyopalescent,drivespastheroutofnothinginto

142nowhere.Likeyourself,sheisthecenterofacircleofvaguelimitandvaguercontent,wherepassesaswift,ceaselessstreamofimpressionthroughafaintlyluminoushaloofconsciousness.2Ifbymoonlightthemistplaysupontheemotionslikefaint,bewitchingmusic,insunlightitisscarcelyless.MoreoftenthannotwhenIgoformyskatingtoourcosylittleriver,awindingmilefromthemilldamtotherailroadtrestle,thehillsareclothedinsilvermistwhichframestheminvignetteswithblurrededges.ThetoneisthatofJapanesepaintingsonwhitesilk,theircolorshowingsoftanddullthroughthefrost-powderwithwhichtheairisfilled.Atthemilldamthehockeyplayersfuriouslyragetogether,butIheedthemnot,andinamomentambeyondthefirstbend,wheretheirclamorcomessoftenedontheairlikethatofadistantconventionofpoliticcrows.Thesilverpowderhasfallenontheice,justenoughtocoverearliertracingsandleavemeafreshplatetoetchwithgrapevinesandarabesques.Thestreamwindsaheadlikeanunbrokenroad,stripedacrosswithsoft-edgedshadowsofviolet,indigo,andlavender.Ononesideitisborderedwithleaningbirch,oak,maple,hickory,andoccasionalgroupsofhemlocksunderwhichtheveryairseemstingedwithgreen.Ontheother,roundedmassesofscruboakandalderrollbackfromtheedgeoftheicelikecloudsofreddishsmoke.Therivernarrowsandturns,thenspreadsintoaswamp,whereIweavemycurvesroundthestraw-coloredtussocks.Here,newasthesnowis,thereareearliertracksthanmine.Acrowhastracedhisparallelhieroglyph,alternatefootprintswithlongdasheswherehetrailedhismiddletoeasheliftedhisfootandhisspurashebroughtitdown.Underalowshrubthathashospitablyscattereditsseedisadainty,close-wroughtembroideryoftinybirdfeetinirregularcurveswovenintoacircularpattern.Asilentglidetowardsthebank,whereamongbaretwigslittleformsflitandswingwithlowconversationalnotes,bringsmeincompanywithaworkingcrewofpinesiskins,methodicallyriflingseedconesofbirchandalder,chatteringsottovocethewhile.Underaleaninghemlockthewritingonthesnowtellsofasquirrelthatdroppedfromthelowestbranch,hoppedaimlesslyaboutforafewyards,thenwentupthebank.Fartheron,wheretherivernarrowsagain,aflutter-headedrabbitcrossingattopspeedhasmadealineseeminglyasfreefromfrivolousindirectionasifithadbeendefinedbyalltheponderositiesofmathematics.Thereisnopursuingtrack;wasithisownshadowhefled,ortheshadowofhawk?3Themistnowliesalongthebaseofthehills,leavingtheupperridgesalmostimperceptiblyveiledandtheroundedtopsfaintlysoftened.ThesnowyslopesareetchedwithbrushandtreessofineandsoftthattheyremindmeofDürer’sengravings,thefurofSaintJerome’slion,thecock’sfeathersinthecoatofarmswiththeskull.Frombehindtheveilofthesouthernmosthillcomesafaintnoteas

143FromundiscoverablelipsthatblowAnimmaterialhorn.Itisthefirstfarpremonitionofthenoontrain;Ipauseandwatchlongforthenextsign.AtlastIhearitsthrobbing,whichceasesasitpausesattheflagstationunderthehill.Theretheinvisiblelocomotiveshootsacolumnofsilvervaporabovethesurfaceofthemist,breakinginroundedcloudsatthetop,lookinglikenothingsomuchasthephotographoftheexplosionofasubmarinemine,atitanicoutburstofforceinstaticpose,ageyserofatomizedwaterstandinglikeafrostedelmtree.Thenquickpuffsofduskysmoke,thevolleyofwhichdoesnotreachmyeartillthetrainhasstuckitsblackheadoutoffairylandandbecomeaprosaicreminderofdinner.Highonitsnarrowtrestleitleapsacrossmylittleriveranddisappearsbetweenthesandbanks.Farbehinditthemistisagainspreadingintoitsevenlayers.Silenceisrenewed,andIcanhearthemusicalcreakingoffourstarlingsinanappletreeastheyeviscerateafewrottenapplesontheupperbranches.Iturnandspindownthecurvesandreachesoftheriverwithoutdelayingforembroideriesorarabesques.Atthemill-damthehockeygamestillrages;theplayerstakenoheedofthenoontrain.LetZalandRustumblusterastheywill,OrHatimcalltosupper…Theirmindsandeyesareintentonabattereddiskofhardrubber.IbegintothinkIhavemisjudgedthemwhenIconsiderwhatefforttoimaginationmustbeinvolvedintheconcentrationofthefacultiesonsuchanobject,transcendingthecallofhungerandthelureofbeauty.Isittothemasistothemystic“thegreatsyllableOm”wherebyheattainsNirvana?Icannotattainit;Icanbutwonderwhatthehockeyplayerswinone-halfsopreciousasthestufftheymiss.

14429.TriviabyLoganPearsallSmithItwouldbeextravaganttoclaimthatPearsallSmith’sTrivia,theremarkablelittlebookfromwhichtheseminiatureessaysareextracted,iswellknown:itistoodaintily,fragileandabsurdandsophisticatedtoappealtoaverylargepublic.Butithasacohortofitsowndevoteesandfanatics,andsinceitspublicationin1917ithasbecomeasortofpasswordinasecretbrotherhoodorintellectualSuicideClub.Isaysuicideadvisedly,forMr.Smith’sironyisglitteringlyedged.Itsincisionissokeenthatthereaderisoftenunawaretherazoredgehasturnedagainsthimselfuntilheperceivesthewoundtobefatal.PearsallSmithwas,inaway,oneoftheMenoftheNineties.ButhehadRepressions—(anexcellentthingtohave,brothers.Mostofthegreatliteratureisfoundedonjudiciousrepressions).HecameofanexcellentoldintellectualQuakerfamilydowninthePhiladelphiaregion.Hisfather(ifwerememberrightly)wasoneofWaltWhitman’sstaunchestfriendsintheCamdendays.ButwhenthestrongwineoftheNinetieswasfoaminginthevatsandnoggins,Mr.Smith(soweimagineit,atleast)wasstilltooclosetothat“guardededucationinmoralsandmanners”thathehadhadatHaverfordCollege,Pennsylvania(andfurthertincturedwithdocilityatHarvardandBalliol)togivefullreintohisinwardgushofhilarioussatirics.LikeaStrongSilentManheheldinthatwellspringofchampagneandmercuryuntilmanymanyyearslater.Whenitcameout(in1902hefirstbegantoprinthisTrivia,privately;thebookwaspublishedbyDoubledayin1917)itsparkledallthemoretenderlyforitslongcellarage.Butwemustbestatistical.LoganPearsallSmithwasbornatMelville,N.J.,in1865.AsaboyhelivedinPhiladelphiaandGermantown(doyouknowGermantown?itisafoothillofthatmountainrangewhereofParnassusandOlivetaretwinpeaks)andwasthreeyearsatHaverfordintheclassof’85.HewenttoHarvardforayear,thentoBalliolCollege,Oxford,wherehetookhisdegreein1893.Eversincethen,eheu,hehaslivedinEngland.StonehengeTHEYsitthereforeveronthedimhorizonofmymind,thatStonehengecircleofelderlydisapprovingFaces—FacesoftheUnclesandSchoolmastersandTutorswhofrownedonmyyouth.1InthebrightcenterandsunlightIleap,Icaper,Idancemydance;butwhenIlookup,Iseetheyarenotdeceived.Fornothingeverplacatesthem,nothingevermovestoalookofapprovalthatringofbleak,old,contemptuousFaces.2TheStarsBattlingmywayhomewardonedarknightagainstthewindandrain,asuddengust,strongerthantheothers,drovemebackintotheshelterofatree.ButsoontheWesternskybrokeopen;theilluminationoftheStarspoureddownfrombehindthedispersingclouds.3Iwasastonishedattheirbrightness,toseehowtheyfilledthenightwiththeirsoftlustre.SoI

145wentmywayaccompaniedbythem;Arcturusfollowedme,andbecomingentangledinaleafytree,shonebyglimpses,andthenemergedtriumphant,LordoftheWesternSky.Movingalongtheroadinthesilenceofmyownfootsteps,mythoughtswereamongtheConstellations.IwasoneofthePrincesofthestarryUniverse;inmealsotherewassomethingthatwasnotinsignificantandmeanandofnoaccount.4 TheSpiderWhatshallIcompareitto,thisfantasticthingIcallmyMind?Toawaste-paperbasket,toasievechokedwithsediment,ortoabarrelfulloffloatingfrothandrefuse?5No,whatitisreallymostlikeisaspider’sweb,insecurelyhungonleavesandtwigs,quiveringineverywind,andsprinkledwithdewdropsanddeadflies.Andatitscenter,ponderingforevertheProblemofExistence,sitsmotionlessthespider-likeanduncannySoul.6L’OiseauBleuWhatisit,Ihavemorethanonceaskedmyself,whatisitthatIamlookingforinmywalksaboutLondon?SometimesitseemstomeasifIwerefollowingaBird,abrightBirdthatsingssweetlyasitfloatsaboutfromoneplacetoanother.7WhenIfindmyself,however,amongpersonsofmiddleageandsettledprinciples,seethemmovingregularlytotheiroffices—whatkeepsthemgoing?Iaskmyself.AndIfeelashamedofmyselfandmyBird.8ThereisthoughaPhilosophicDoctrine—IstudieditatCollege,andIknowthatmanyseriouspeoplebelieveit—whichmaintainsthatallmen,inspiteofappearancesandpretensions,alllivealikeforPleasure.Thistheorycertainlybringsportly,respectedpersonsveryneartome.Indeed,withasenseoflowcomplicity,IhavesometimeswatchedaBishop.Washe,too,onthehuntforPleasure,solemnlypursuinghisBird?9ISeetheWorld“Butyougonowhere,seenothingoftheworld,”mycousinssaid.10NowthoughIdogosometimestothepartiestowhichIamnowandtheninvited,Ifind,asamatteroffact,thatIgetreallymuchmorepleasurebylookinginatwindows,andhaveawayofmyownofseeingtheWorld.Andofsummerevenings,whenmotorshurrythroughthelatetwilight,andthegreathousestakeonairsofinscrutableexpectation,Igoowlingoutthroughthedusk;andwanderingtowardtheWest,losemywayinunknownstreets—anunknownCityofrevels.AndwhenadooropensandabediamondedLadymovestohermotorovercarpetsunrolledbypowderedfootmen,IcaneasilythinkhersomegreatCourtezan,orsomehalf-believedDuchess,hurryingtocard-tablesandlitcandlesandstrangescenesofjoy.Iliketoseethattherearestillsplendidpeopleonthisflatearth;andatdances,standinginthestreetwiththecrowd,andstirredbythemusic,thelights,therushingsoundofvoices,IthinktheLadiesas

146beautifulasStarswhomoveupthoselanesoflightpastourrowsofvagabondfaces;theyoungmenlooklikeLordsinnovels;andif(ithasonceortwicehappened)peopleIknowgobyme,theystrikemeaschangedandraptbeyondmysphere.Andwhenonhotnightswindowsareleftopen,andIcanlookinatDinnerParties,asIpeerthroughlacecurtainsandwindow-flowersatthesilver,thewomen’sshoulders,theshimmeroftheirjewels,andthedivineattitudesoftheirheadsastheyleanandlisten,Iimagineextraordinaryintriguesandunheard-ofwinesandpassions.11TheChurchofEnglandIhavemyAnglicanmoments;andasIsattherethatSundayafternoon,inthePalladianinterioroftheLondonChurch,andlistenedtotheunexpressivevoiceschantingthecorrectservice,Ifeltacomfortableassurancethatwewereinnodangerofbeingbetrayedintoanyunseemlymanifestationsofreligiousfervor.WehadnotgatheredtogetheratthatperformancetoabaseourselveswithfurioushosannasbeforeanydarkCreatorofanuntamedUniverse,noDeityoffreaksandmiraclesandsinisterhocus-pocus;buttopayourdutytoahighlyrespectedAnglicanFirstCause—undemonstrative,gentlemanly,andconscientious—whom,withoutlossofself-respect,wecoulddecorouslypraise.12ConsolationTheotherday,depressedontheUnderground,Itriedtocheermyselfbythinkingoverthejoysofourhumanlot.Buttherewasn’toneofthemforwhichIseemedtocareabutton—notWine,norFriendship,norEating,norMakingLove,northeConsciousnessofVirtue.Wasitworthwhilethengoingupinaliftintoaworldthathadnothinglesstritetooffer?13ThenIthoughtofreading—theniceandsubtlehappinessofreading.Thiswasenough,thisjoynotdulledbyAge,thispoliteandunpunishedvice,thisselfish,serene,life-longintoxication.14TheKaleidoscopeIfindinmymind,initsmiscellanyofideasandmusings,acuriouscollectionoflittlelandscapesandpictures,shiningandfadingfornoreason.Sometimestheyareviewsinnowayremarkable—thecornerofaroad,aheapofstones,anoldgate.Buttherearemanycharmingpicturestoo:asIread,betweenmyeyesandbook,theMoonshedsdownonharvestfieldsherchillofsilver;Iseeautumnalavenues,withtheleavesfalling,orsweptinheaps;andstormsblowamongmythoughts,withtherainbeatingforeveronthefields.ThenWinter’supwardglareofsnowappears;orthepinkanddelicategreenofSpringinthewindysunshine;orcornfieldsandgreenwaters,andyouthsbathinginSummer’sgoldenheats.15AndasIwalkabout,certainplaceshauntme;acathedralrisesaboveadarkblueforeigntown,thecolorofivoryinthesunsetlight;nowIfindmyselfinaFrenchgarden,fulloflilacsandbees,andshut-insunshine,withtheMediterraneanloungingandwashingoutsideitswalls;nowina

147littlecollegelibrary,withbusts,andthegreenreflectedlightofOxfordlawns—andagainIhearthebells,remindingmeofthefamiliarOxfordhours.16ThePoplarThereisagreattreeinSussex,whosecloudofthinfoliagefloatshighinthesummerair.Thethrushsingsinit,andblackbirds,whofillthelate,decorativesunshinewithashimmerofgoldensound.Therethenightingalefindshergreencloister;andonthosebranchessometimes,likeagreatfruit,hangsthelemon-coloredMoon.IntheglareofAugust,whenalltheworldisfaintwithheat,thereisalwaysabreezeinthosecoolrecesses,alwaysanoise,likethenoiseofwater,amongitslightly-hungleaves.17ButtheownerofthisTreelivesinLondon,readingbooks.

14830.BeyondLifebyJamesBranchCabellTomytaste,BeyondLife,anall-nightsoliloquyputintothemouthoftheauthor’salteregoCharteris,isthemostsatisfyingofMr.Cabell’sbooks.Itspointofviewisdeftlysharpened,itsmannerisurbaneandcharming,withoutpostureorallegoricalpseudo-romantics.FromthisbookIhavetakenthetwoclosingsections,whichformabeautifulandsignificantwhole.JamesBranchCabell,borninRichmond,Virginia,in1879,graduatedfromWilliamandMaryCollegein1898.HehadsomenewspaperexperienceinRichmondandontheNewYorkHerald,andbeganpublishingin1904.Notuntil1915,untilMr.McBride,theNewYorkpublisher,andhisuntiringliteraryassistant,Mr.GuyHolt(towhommuchofCabell’sappreciationisdue),begantheirwork,didcriticsbegintotakehimatallseriously.SincethattimeMr.Cabell’sreputationhasbeenenormouslyenhancedbytheidioticsuppressionofhisnovelJurgen.TheCabellculthasbeenalmosttooactiveinzeal,buttherecanbenodoubtofhisveryrealandrefreshingimaginativetalent.IASKofliteraturepreciselythosethingsofwhichIfeelthelackinmyownlife.Iappealforcharity,andimplorethatliteratureaffordmewhatIcannotcomebyinmyself.…1ForIwantdistinctionforthatexistencewhichoughttobepeculiarlymine,amongmyinnumerablefellowswhoswarmaboutearthlikeants.Yetwhichoneofusisnoticeably,orcanbeappreciablydifferent,inthisthrongofhumanephemeræandalltheirmillionsandinestimablemillionsofmillionsofpredecessorsandoncomingprogeny?Andeventhoughonemotemaytransientlyappearexceptional,thedistinctionofthosewhointheirheydaysare“great”personages—muchastheEmperorofLilliputovertoppedhissubjectsbythebreadthofCaptainGulliver’snail—mustsufferlosswithtime,andmustdwindlecontinuously,untilatmosttheman’srecordednameremainshereandthereinsundrypedants’libraries.TherewerehowmanydynastiesofPharaohs,eachoneofwhomwasabsolutelordoftheknownworld,andisto-dayforgotten?AmongthecountlesspopeswhoonebyonewereadoredastheregentofHeavenuponearth,howmanypersonscanto-daydistinguish?anddoesnottimebreedemperorsandczarsandpresidentsasplentifulasblackberries,andaslittlethoughtofwhentheirseasonisout?Forthereisnoperpetuityinhumanendeavor:westrutuponaquicksand:andallthatanymanmaydoforgoodorillispresentlyforgotten,becauseitdoesnotmatter.Iwailtoafamiliartune,ofcourse,inthislamentfortheevanescenceofhumangrandeurandtheperishablerenownofkings.AndindeedtothestatementthatimperialCæsaristurnedtoclayandMizraimnowcureswounds,andthatinshortQueenAnneisdead,wemayagreelightlyenough;foritis,afterall,amatterofnopersonalconcern:buthowharditistoconcedethatthebankerandtherectorandthe

149traffic-officer,towhomwemoreimmediatelydefer,andweourselves,andthelittlegoldheadsofourchildren,maybeofnoimportance,either.…Inartitmaysohappenthatthethingwhichamanmakesendurestobemisunderstoodandgabbledover:yetitisnotthemanhimself.WeretaintheIliad,butoblivionhasswallowedHomersodeepthatmanyquestionifheeverexistedatall.…Sowepassasacloudofgnats,whereIwanttoliveandbethoughtof,ifonlybymyself,asadistinguishableentity.Andsuchdistinctionisimpossibleinthelongprogressofsuns,wherebyinthoughttoseparatethepersonalityofanyonemanfromallothersthathavelived,becomesatasktostaggerOmniscience.…2Iwantmylife,theonlylifeofwhichIamassured,tohavesymmetryor,indefaultofthat,atleasttoacquiresomeclarity.Surelyitisnotaskingverymuchtowishthatmypersonalconductbeintelligibletome!Yetitisforbiddentoknowforwhatpurposethisuniversewasintended,towhatenditwasseta-going,orwhyIamhere,orevenwhatIhadpreferablydowhilehere.ItvaguelyseemstomethatIamexpectedtoperformanallottedtask,butastowhatitisIhavenonotion.…Andindeed,whathaveIdonehitherto,intheyearsbehindme?Therearesomebookstoshowasincrement,assomethingwhichwasnotanywherebeforeImadeit,andwhicheveninbulkwillreplacemyburiedbody,sothatmylifewillbetomankindnolossmaterially.Butthecourseofmylife,whenIlookback,isasorderlessasatrickleofwaterthatisdivertedandguidedbyeverypebbleandcreviceandgrass-rootitencounters.Iseemtohavedonenothingwithpre-meditation,butrather,tohavehadthingsdonetome.Andforalltherestofmylife,asIknownow,Ishallhavetoshaveeverymorninginordertobereadyfornomorethanthis!…Ihaveattemptedtomakethebestofmymaterialcircumstancesalways;nordoIseeto-dayhowanywidelyvaryingcoursecouldhavebeenwiserorevenfeasible:butmaterialthingshavenothingtodowiththatlifewhichmovesinme.Why,then,shouldtheydirectandheightenandprovokeandcurbeveryactionoflife?ItisagainstthetyrannyofmatterIwouldrebel—againstlife’sabsoluteneedoffood,andbooks,andfire,andclothing,andflesh,totouchandtoinhabit,lestlifeperish.…No,allthatwhichIdohereorrefrainfromdoinglacksclarity,norcanIdetectanysymmetryanywhere,suchaslivingwouldassuredlydisplay,Ithink,ifmyprogressweredirectedbyanyparticularmotive.…Itisallamuddlingthrough,somehow,withoutanyrecognizablegoalinview,andthereisnoexplanationofthescuffletenderedoranywhereprocurable.Itmerelyseemsthattogoonlivinghasbecomewithmeahabit.…3AndIwantbeautyinmylife.Ihaveseenbeautyinasunsetandinthespringwoodsandintheeyesofdiverswomen,butnowthesehappyaccidentsoflightandcolornolongerthrillme.AndIwantbeautyinmylifeitself,ratherthaninsuchchancesasbefallit.Itseemstomethatmanyactionsofmylifewerebeautiful,verylongago,whenIwasyounginanevanishedworldoffriendlygirls,whowereallmorelovelythananygirlisnowadays.Forwomennowaremerelymoreorlessgood-looking,andasIknow,theirlookswhenattheirbesthavebeenpainstakingly

150enhancedandedited.…ButIwouldlikethislifewhichmovesandyearnsinme,tobeableitselftoattaintocomeliness,thoughbutintransitoryperformance.Thelifeofabutterfly,forexample,isjustagracefulgesture:andyet,inthatitslovelinessiscompleteandperfectlyroundedinitself,Ienvythisbrightflickerthroughexistence.AndthenearestIcancometomyidealispunctiliouslytopaymybills,bepolitetomywife,andcontributetodeservingcharities:andtheprogramdoesnotseem,somehow,quiteadequate.Therearemybooks,Iknow;andthereisbeauty“embalmedandtreasuredup”inmanypagesofmybooks,andinthebooksofotherpersons,too,whichImayreadatwill:butthisdesireinborninmeisnottobesatiatedbymakingmarksuponpaper,norbydecipheringthem.…Inshort,Iamenamoredofthatflawlessbeautyofwhichallpoetshaveperturbedlydivinedtheexistencesomewhere,andwhichlifeasmenknowitsimplydoesnotaffordnoranywhereforesee.…4Andtenderness,too—butdoesthatappearamawkishthingtodesiderateinlife?Well,tomyfindinghumanbeingsdonotlikeoneanother.Indeed,whyshouldthey,beingrationalcreatures?Allbabieshaveatemporarylienontenderness,ofcourse:andtherefromchildrentooreceiveadwindlingincome,althoughonlookingback,youwillrecollectthatyourchildhoodwasuponthewholealonesomeandmuchput-uponperiod.Butallgrownpersonsineffablydistrustoneanother.…Incourtship,Igrantyou,thereisapassingaberrationwhichoftenmimicstenderness,sometimesastheresultofhonestdelusion,butmorefrequentlyasanambuscadeintheendlessstrugglebetweenmanandwoman.Marriedpeoplearenotevertenderwitheachother,youwillnotice:iftheyaremutuallycivilitismuch:andphysicalcontactsapart,theirrelationisthatofaverymoderateintimacy.Myownwife,atallevents,Ifindanunfailingmystery,aSphinxwhosesecretsIassumetobenotworthknowing:and,asIammildlythankfultonarrate,sheknowsverylittleaboutme,andevincesastomyaffairsnomorbidinterest.ThatisnottoassertthatifIwereillshewouldnotnursemethroughanyimaginablecontagion,northatifsheweredrowningIwouldnotplungeinafterher,whatevermydelinquenciesatswimming:whatImeanisthat,pendingsuchhighcrises,wetolerateeachotheramicably,andneverthinkofdoingmore.…Andfromourblood-kinwegrowapartinevitably.Theirlivesandtheirinterestsarenolongerthesameasours,andwhenwemeetitiswithconsciousreservationsandmuchmanufacturedtalk.Besides,theyknowthingsaboutuswhichweresent.…Andwiththerestofmyfellows,Ifindthatconventionordersallourdealings,evenwithchildren,andwedoandsaywhatseemsmoreorlessexpected.AndIknowthatwedistrustoneanotherallthewhile,andinstinctivelyconcealormisrepresentouractualthoughtsandemotionswhenthereisnoveryapparentneed.…Personally,IdonotlikehumanbeingsbecauseIamnotaware,uponthewhole,ofanygenerallydistributedqualitieswhichentitlethemasaracetoadmirationandaffection.Buttowardpeopleinbooks—suchasMrs.Millamant,andHelenofTroy,andBellaWilfer,andMélusine,andBeatrixEsmond—Imayintelligentlyoverflowwithtendernessandcaressingwords,inpartbecausethey

151deserveit,andinpartbecauseIknowtheywillnotsuspectmeofbeing“queer”orofhavingulteriormotives.…5AndIveryoftenwishthatIcouldknowthetruthaboutjustanyonecircumstanceconnectedwithmylife.…Isthephantasmagoriaofsoundandnoiseandcolorreallypassingorisitallanillusionhereinmybrain?Howdoyouknowthatyouarenotdreamingme,forinstance?Inyourconcededdreams,Iamsure,youmustinventandseeandlistentopersonswhoforthewhileseemquiteasrealtoyouasIdonow.AsIdo,youobserve,Isay!andwhatthingisittowhichIsogliblyreferasI?Ifyouwilltrytoformanotionofyourself,ofthesortofasomethingthatyoususpecttoinhabitandpartiallytocontrolyourfleshandbloodbody,youwillencounterawalkingbundleofsuperfluities:andwhenyoumentallyhaveputasidetheextraneousthings—yourgarmentsandyourmembersandyourbody,andyouracquiredhabitsandyourappetitesandyourinheritedtraitsandyourprejudices,andallotherappurtenanceswhichconsideredseparatelyyourecognizetobenointegralpartofyou,—thereseemstoremaininthosepearlcoloredbrain-cells,whereinisyourultimatelair,verylittlesaveafacultyforreceivingsensations,ofwhichyouknowthelargerportiontobeillusory.Andsurely,tobejustaverygullibleconsciousnessprovisionallyexistingamonginexplicablemysteries,isnotanenviableplight.Andyetthislife—towhichIclingtenaciously—comestonomore.MeanwhileIhearmentalkabout“thetruth”;andtheyevenwagerhandsomesumsupontheirknowledgeofit:butIalignmyselfwith“jestingPilate,”andechotheforlornquerythatrecordedtimehasleftunanswered.…6Then,lastofall,Idesiderateurbanity.Ibelievethisistherarestqualityintheworld.Indeed,itprobablydoesnotexistanywhere.Areallyurbaneperson—amortalopen-mindedandaffabletoconvictionofhisownshortcomingsanderrors,andunguidedinanythingbyirrationalblindprejudices—couldnotbutinaworldofmenandwomenberegardedasamonster.Weareallofus,asifbyinstinct,intolerantofthatwhichisunfamiliar:weresentitsimpudence:andverymuchthesameprinciplewhichpromptssmallboystojeeratastraw-hatoutofseasoninducestheirelderstosendmissionariestotheheathen.Thehistoryoftheprogressofthehumanraceisbutthepicaresqueromanceofintolerance,anarrativeofhow—whatisitMiltonsays?—“truthnevercameintotheworldbut,likeabastard,totheignominyofhimthatbroughtherforth,tilltimehathwashedandsaltedtheinfant,declaredherlegitimate,andchurchedthefatherofhisyoungMinerva.”AndI,whoprattletoyou,verycandidlyconfessthatIhavenopatiencewithotherpeople’sideasunlesstheycoincidewithmine:forifthefellowbedemonstrablywrongIamfrettedbyhisstupidity,andifhisnotionseemmorenearlyrightthanmineIaminfuriated.…YetIwishIcouldacquireurbanity,verymuchasIwouldliketohavewings.Forindefaultofit,Icannotevenmanagetobeciviltothatpiteousthingcalledhumannature,ortoviewitsparasites,whethertheybepoliticiansorclergymenorpopularauthors,withone-halfthecommiserationwhichtheshiftstheyareputto,quitecertainly,wouldrouseintheurbane.…7

152SoIinpointoffactdesireofliterature,justasyouguessed,preciselythosethingsofwhichImostpoignantlyandmostconstantlyfeelthelackinmyownlife.Anditisthatwhichromanceaffordsherpostulants.Thephiltresofromancearebrewedtofreeusfromthisunsatisfyinglifethatiscalendaredbyfiscalyears,andtocontrivealessdisastrouselusionofourownpersonalitiesthanmanyseekdispersedlyindrinkanddrugsandlustandfanaticism,andsometimesindeath.For,besetbyhisownrationality,thenormalmanisgoadedtoevadethestricturesofhisnormallife,upontheincontestablegroundthatitisastupidandunlovelyroutine;andtoescapelikewisefromhisownpersonality,whichboreshimquiteasmuchasitdoeshisassociates.Sohehurtlesintotheseveryvariousroadsfromreality,preciselyasagoadedsheepfleeswithoutnoticeofwhatliesahead.…8Andromancetrickshim,butnottohisharm.For,beitrememberedthatmanaloneofanimalsplaystheapetohisdreams.Romanceitisundoubtedlywhowhisperstoeverymanthatlifeisnotablindandaimlessbusiness,notallahopelesswasteandconfusion;andthathisexistenceisapageant(appreciativelyobservedbydivinespectators),andthatheisstrongandexcellentandwise:andtoromancehelistens,willingandthricewillingtobecheatedbythehoneyedfiction.Thethingsofwhichromanceassureshimareveryfarfromtrue:yetitissolelybybelievinghimselfacreaturebutlittlelowerthanthecherubimthatmanhasbyinterminablesmalldegreesbecome,uponthewhole,distinctlysuperiortothechimpanzee:sothat,howeverextravagantmayseemtheseflatteringwhispersto-day,theywereimmeasurablymoreremotefromveracitywhenmenfirstbegantolistentotheirsugaredsusurrus,andsteadilythediscrepancylessens.To-daythesethingsseemquiteaspreposteroustocalmconsiderationasdidflyingyesterday:andso,totheGradgrindians,romanceappearstodiscoursefoolishly,andincursthecommonfateofprophets:foritisaboutto-morrowandaboutthedayafterto-morrow,thatromanceistalking,bymeansofparables.Andallthewhilemanplaystheapetofairerandyetfairerdreams,andpracticestrengthenshimatmimickry.…9Towhatdoesthewholebusinesstend?—why,howinheaven’snameshouldIknow?Wecanbutbecontenttonotethatallgoesforward,towardsomething.…Itmaybethatwearenocturnalcreaturesperturbedbyrumorsofadawnwhichcomesinevitably,asprologuetoadaywhereinweandourchildrenhavenopartwhatever.Itmaybethatwhenourarborealpropositusdescendedfromhispalm-treeandbegantowalkuprightabouttheearth,hisprogenywereforthwithcommittedtoajourneyinwhichto-dayisonlyaway-station.YetIprefertotakeitthatwearecomponentsofanunfinishedworld,andthatwearebutasseethingatomswhichfermenttowarditsmaking,ifmerelybecausemanashenowexistscanhardlybethefinishedproductofanyCreatorwhomonecouldveryheartilyrevere.Wearebeingmadeintosomethingquiteunpredictable,Iimagine:andthroughthepurgingandthesmelting,wearesustainedbyaninstinctiveknowledgethatwearebeingmadeintosomethingbetter.Forthisweknow,quite

153incommunicably,andyetassurelyasweknowthatwewilltohaveitthus.10Anditisthiswillthatstirsinustohavethecreaturesofearthandtheaffairsofearth,notastheyare,but“astheyoughttobe,”whichwecallromance.ButwhenwenotehowvisiblyitswaysalllifeweperceivethatwearetalkingaboutGod.

15431.TheFishReporterbyRobertCortesHollidayThisinformalcommentaryonthepicturesquehumorsoftradejournalismistypicalofMr.Holliday’sgreatskillincapturingtheactualvibrationofurbanlife.HehassomethingofGeorgeGissing’stastefortheactualityofcityscenesandcharacters,withrathermorepungentidiosyncrasyinhismannerofself-expression.Carefulobserversoftheartofwritingwillseehowmuchshrewdskillthereisintheapparentlyunstudiedmanner.OneofMr.Holliday’sfavoritediscussionsontheartofwritingisaphraseofBoothTarkington’s—“Howtogettheinkoutofit.”Inotherwords,howtostripawaymereliteraryandconsciousadornment,andtogetdowntoatranslucentportraitureoflifeitselfinitsactualcontourandprofile.WearetoldthatMr.Holliday,inhisnativeIndianapolis(wherehewasbornin1880),wasachampionbicycleriderattheageofsixteen.Thattriumph,however,wasnotpermanentlysatisfying,forhecametoNewYorkin1899tostudyart;livedforawhile,precariously,asanillustrator;workedforseveralyearsasabooksellerinCharlesScribner’sretailstore,andpassedthroughallsortsofcuriousjobsonGrubStreet,amongothersbookreviewerontheTribuneandTimes.HewaseditorofTheBookmanafterthatmagazinewastakenoverbytheGeorgeH.DoranCompany,andretiredtothegenteeldignityof“contributingeditor”in1920,toobtainleisureformorewritingofhisown.Mr.Hollidayhasthegenuinegiftofthepersonalessay,mellow,fluent,andpleasantlyeccentric.HisWalking-StickPapers,BroomeStreetStraws,TurnsaboutTownandPeepsatPeoplehavethatcharmingramblinghumorthatdescendstohimfromhismastersinthisart,HazlittandThackeray.WhenMr.HollidaywasrackinghiswitsforatitleforMenandBooksandCitiesthatoddBorrovianchronicleofhismind,bodyanddigestionontouracrossthecontinent)IsuggestedTheOdysseyofanOddity.Hedeprecatedthis;butIstillthinkitwouldhavebeenagoodtitle,becausestrictlytrue.MENofgenius,blownbythewindsofchance,havebeen,nowandthen,mariners,bar-keeps,schoolmasters,soldiers,politicians,clergymen,andwhatnot.Andfromthesepursuitshavetheysuckedtheessenceofyarnsandinthesettingoftheseactivitiesfoundaflavortostirandtocharmheartsuntold.Now,itisathousandpitiesthatnomanofgeniushaseverbeenafishreporter.Thushastheworldlostgreatliterarytreasure,asitishighlyprobablethatthereisnotunderthesunanyprospectsofilledwiththescentsandcolorsofstoryasthatpresentedbythecommerceinfish.1Takewhaleoil.TakethefunnyoldbuildingsonFrontStreet,outofpaintings,Ideclare,byHowardPyle,wherethelargemerchantsinwhaleoilare.Takesaltfish.Doyouknowtheoldestsalt-fishhouseinAmerica,downbyCoentiesSlip?Ah!youshould.TheghostofoldLongJohn

155Silver,Isuspect,smokesanoccasionalpipeinthatoldplace.AndmanyarethetimesI’veseentheslimshadeofyoungJimHawkinscomerunningout.TakeLabradorcodforexporttotheMediterraneanlandsortoPortoRicoviaNewYork.TakeherringsbroughttothisportfromIceland,fromHolland,andfromScotland;mackerelfromIreland,fromtheMagdalenIslands,andfromCapeBreton;crabmeatfromJapan;fishballsfromScandinavia;sardinesfromNorwayandfromFrance;caviarfromRussia;shrimpwhichcomesfromFlorida,Mississippi,andGeorgia,orsalmonfromAlaska,andPugetSound,andtheColumbiaRiver.2Taketheobituariesoffishermen.“Inhisprime,itissaid,therewasnotabetterskipperintheGloucesterfishingfleet.”Takedisasterstoschooners,smacks,andtrawlers.“Thecrewwerelanded,butlostalltheirbelongings.”Newvessels,sales,etc.“ThesealingschoonerTillieB.,whosecareerintheSouthSeasiswellknown,isreportedtohavebeensoldtoamoving-picturefirm.”SpongesfromtheCaribbeanSeaandtheGulfofMexico.“Tomostpeople,familiaronlywiththespongesoftheshops,theanimalasitcomesfromtheseawouldberatherunrecognizable.”Why,takeanythingyouplease!Itissuchstuffasstoriesare.Andasyoueatyourfishfromthestorehowlittledoyoureckoftheglamorofwhatyouaredoing!3However,asitseemstomeunlikelythatamanofgeniuswillbeafishreportershortlyIwillmyselfdothebestIcantopaintthetapestryofthescenesofhiscalling.Theadvertisementinthenewspaperread:“Wanted—Reporterforweeklytradepaper.”Manycalled,butIwaschosen.Though,doubtless,nomanlivingknewlessaboutfishthanI.4Thenewsstandsareeachlikeafair,soladenaretheywithmagazinesinbrightcolors.Itwouldseemalmostasiftherewereadifferentmagazineforeveryfewhundredandseven-tenthperson,asthestatisticsputthesematters.Andyet,itseems,thereisavast,averyvast,periodicalliteratureofwhichwe,thatis,magazinereadersingeneral,knownothingwhatever.Thereis,forone,thatfine,old,standardpublication,BarrelandBox,devotedtothesubjectsandtheinterestsofthecooperingindustry;thereistoo,TheDriedFruitPackerandWesternCanner,asalertamagazineasonecouldwish—initskind;andfromthehomeofclassicAmericanliteraturecomesTheNewEnglandTradesmanandGrocer.Andsoon.Attheplacealonewherewewenttopresstwenty-seventradejournalswereprintedeveryweek,fromoneforbutcherstooneforbankers.5TheFishIndustriesGazette—Ah,yes!Forsomereasonnotclear(thoughitisanengagingthing,Ithink)theworld“gazette”isthegreatwordamongthetitlesoftradejournals.ThereareTheJewellers’GazetteandTheWomen’sWearGazetteandThePoulterers’Gazette(ofLondon),andTheMaritimeGazette(ofHalifax),andothergazettesquitewithoutnumber.Thisword“gazette”makesitsappeal,too,curiouslyenough,tothosewhochristencountrypapers;andtradejournalshavemuchoftheintimatecharmofcountrypapers.The“trade”ineachcaseisakindofneighborlycommunity,separatedinitspartsbyspace,butjoinedinunityofsympathy.

156“Personals”areavitalfeatureoftradepapers.“WalterConner,whoforsometimehasconductedabakeryandfishmarketatHudson,N.Y.,hasremovedtoFortEdward,leavinghisbrotherEdinchargeattheHudsonplaceofbusiness.”6TheFishIndustriesGazette,asIsay,wasoneofseveralinitsfield,infriendlyrivalrywithTheOysterTradeandFishermanandThePacificFisheries.Itcomprisedtwodepartments:thefreshfishandoysterdepartment,andmyself.Iwas,asaneditorialannouncementsaidatthebeginningofmytenureofoffice,a“reorganizationofoursalt,smoked,andpickledfishdepartment.”Thedelectable,mellowspiritofthecountrypaper,soremovedfromthecrashandwhirrofmetropolitanjournalism,restedinthis,too,thatupontheGazetteIdidpracticallyeverythingonthepaperexceptthelinotyping.Reporter,editorialwriter,exchangeeditor,make-upman,proof-reader,correspondent,advertisementsolicitor,wasI.7Asexchangeeditor,didIreadallthepapersintheEnglishlanguageineagersearchoffishnews.Andwhileyouareaboutthematter,justfindmeafinerbitofliterarystyleevokingtheromanceofthevastwastesofthemovingsea,inStevenson,Defoe,anywhereyouplease,thansuchanewsitemasthis:“Capt.EzraPound,ofthebarkElnora,ofSalem,Mass.,spokealonelyvesselinlatitudethisandlongitudethat,September8.SheprovedtobethewhalerWanderer,andhercaptainsaidthatshehadbeenninemonthsatsea,thatallonboardwerewell,andthathehadstockedsomanybarrelsofwhaleoil.”8AsexchangeeditorwasitmybusinesstoperusereportsfromEastport,Maine,totheeffectthatoneoftheworststormsinrecentyearshaddestroyedlargenumbersofthesardineweirsthere.Toseekfishrecipes,ofsuchsavorysoundasthosefor“broiledredsnapper,”“shrimpsbordelaise,”and“bakedfishcroquettes.”TofollowfishingconditionsintheNorthSeaoccasionedbytheGreatWar.Tohuntdownjokesofpiscatoryhumor.“Themanwhodrinkslikeafishdoesnottakekindlytowater.—Exchange.”Tofindother“fillers”intheconsularreportsandelsewhere:“FishcultureinIndia,”“1800MilesinaDory,”“ChineseCarpforthePhilippines,”“AmericansasFishEaters.”And,touseafavoritetermoftradepapers,“etc.,etc.”Thento“pasteup”thewinnowedfruitsofthisbeguilingresearch.9Aseditorialwriter,todiscussthereportofthecommissionrecentlysentbycongresstothePribilofIslands,Alaska,toreportontheconditionofournationalherdoffurseals;todiscusstheofficialinterpretationhereoftheGovernmentrulingonwhatconstitutes“boneless”codfish;toconsiderthecampaigninCanadatopromotethereamorepopularconsumptionoffish,andtobrightlyremarkàproposofthisthat“afishadaykeepsthedoctoraway”;toreviewthecurrentissueofTheJournaloftheFisheriesSocietyofJapan,containingleadingarticleson“AreFishingMotorBoatsAbletoEncourageinOurCountry”and“FishermantheLateMr.H.YamaguchiWellKnown”;tocombattheprejudiceagainstdogfishasfood,aprejudicelikethatagainsteels,insomequarterseyedaskanceas“callingcousinswiththegreatseaserpent,”asJuvenalsays;to

157callattentiontothedoomofoneofthemostpicturesquemonumentsinthestoryoffish,thepassingofthepleasantandcelebratedoldTrafalgarHotelatGreenwich,nearLondon,sceneofthefamousMinisterialwhite-baitdinnersofthedaysofPitt;tomakeajestonanexcitingideasuggestedbysomemedicalmanthatsomeofthefeaturesofaRitz-CarltonHotel,thatis,baths,beintroducedintothefo’c’s’lesofGrandBanksfishingvessels;tokeepaneyeontheactivitiesofourBureauofFisheries;tohymnapraisetothemonumentalnewFishPieratBoston;toglanceatconditionsatthepremierfishmarketoftheworld,Billingsgate;toheraldthefishdisplayattheCanadianNationalExhibitionatToronto,and,indeed,etc.,andagainetc.10Asgeneraleditorialroustabout,tofindeachweeka“leader,”atranslation,say,fromInAllgemeineFish-cherei-Zeitung,orEconomicCircularNo.10,“MusselsintheTributariesoftheMissouri,”orthelastbiennialreportoftheSuperintendentofFisheriesofWisconsin,orascientificpaperon“ThePorpoiseinCaptivity”reprintedbypermissionofZoologica,oftheNewYorkZoölogicalSociety.Tofindeachweekforreprintapoemappropriateinsentimenttothefeelingofthepaper.Oneofthe“SaltWaterBallads”woulddo,orJohnMasefieldsingingof“thewhale’sway,”or“Downtothewhitedippingsails”;orRupertBrooke:“Andinthatheavenofalltheirwish,Thereshallbenomoreland,sayfish”;ora“weatherrhyme”about“mackerelskies,”when“you’resuretogetafishingday”;orsomethingfromtheNewYorkSunabout“thelobsterpotsofMaine”;orOliverHerford,intheCentury,“ToaGoldfish”;or,bestofall,anoldsongoffishingwaysofotherdays.11AndtocompilefromtheNewYorkJournalofCommercebetterpoetrythananyofthis,tables,beautifultablesof“importsintoNewYork”:“Oct.15.—FromBordeaux,225cs.cuttlefishbone;Copenhagen,173pkgs.fish;Liverpool,969bbls.herrings,10walrushides,2,000bagssalt;LaGuayra,6cs.fishsounds;Belize,9bbls.sponges;Rotterdam,7pkgs.seaweed,9,000kegsherrings;Barcelona,235cs.sardines;BocasDelToro,5cs.turtleshells;Genoa,3boxescorals;Tampico,2pkgs.sponges;Halifax,1cs.sealskins,35bbls.codliveroil,215cs.lobsters,490bbls.codfish;Akureyri,4,150bbls.saltedherrings,”andmuchmore.Beautifultablesof“exportsfromNewYork.”“ToAustralia”(clearedSep.1);“toArgentina”;—Haiti,Jamaica,Guatemala,Scotland,Salvador,SantoDomingo,England,andtoplacesmanymore.Andmanyothergorgeoustables,too.“FishingvesselsatNewYork,”forone,listingthe“trips”broughtintothisportbytheStranger,theSarahO’Neal,theNourmahal,afarragoofcharmingsounds,andavaluabletaleoffacts.12Asmake-upman,ofcourse,soto“dress”thepaperthatthe“markets,”Oporto,Trinidad,PortoRico,Demerara,Havana,wouldbetogether;that“NovaScotiaNotes”—“WeatherconditionsforcuringhavebeenmorefavorablesinceOctobersetin”—wouldfollow“HalifaxFishMarket”—“Lastweek’sarrivalswere:Oct.13,schr.HattieLoring,960quintals,”etc.—that“PacificCoastNotes”—“ThetugTatooshwillperformtheservicefortheSeattlesalmonpackers

158oftowingavesselfromSeattletothisportviathePanamaCanal”—wouldfollow“CannedSalmon”;thatshellfishmatterwouldbeinoneplace;reportsofsaltfishwheresuchshouldbe;thattheweeklytaleofthecannedfishtradepoliticallyembracedthecannedfishadvertising;andsoonandsoon.13Finestofall,asreporter,togowherethefishreportergoes.Therethesight-seeingcarsneverfindtheirway;thehurriedcommuterhasnothispath,norknowsofthesethingsatall;andtherethatracycharacterwho,voicingamultitude,declaresthathewouldratherbealamppostonBroadwaythanMayorofSt.Louis,goesnotfortosee.UplowerGreenwichStreetthefishreportergoes,alonganeerie,dark,andnarrowway,beneathastrange,thunderingroof,the“L”overhead.Hethreadshiswayamidseeminglychaotic,architecturalpilesofboxes,ofbarrels,crates,casks,kegs,andbulgingbags;roundaboutmanygreatfetlockeddraughthorses,frequentlystandingorplunginguponthesidewalk,andattachedtomanyhugetrucksandwagons;andmuchofthetimeinthestreetheiscompelledtogo,findingthesidewalkstoocongestedwiththetrafficofcommercetoadmitofhispassingthere.14Youprobablyeatbutter,andeggs,andcheese.ThenyouwoulddelightinGreenwichStreet.Youcouldfeastyourhighlycreditableappetitefortheseexcellentthingsforverynearlyasolidmileuponthesignsof“wholesaledealersandcommissionmerchants”inthem.Theletterpress,asyoumightsay,ofthefishreporter’swalkisanoblepæantotheearth’sgloriousyieldforthejoyoussustenanceofman.Fortheseprincelymerchants’signssingofopulentstoresofoliveoil,ofsausages,beans,soups,extracts,andspices,sugar,Spanish,Bermuda,andHavanaonions,“fine”apples,teas,coffee,rice,chocolates,driedfruitsandraisins,andofloavesandoffishes,andof“fishproducts.”Lo!darkanddirtyandthunderingGreenwichStreetisto-day’stranslationoftheGardenofEden.15Hereisagreathousewhosesolevocationistheimportationofcaviarforbarterhere.Caviarfromover-seasnowcomes,whenitcomesatall,mainlybythewayofArchangel,recentlyputonthemap,formostofus,bythewar.Thefishreporteristold,however,ifitbesummer,thattherecannotbemuchdoinginthewayofcaviaruntilfall,“whenthespoonbillstartcomingin.”Andonhegoestoagreatsaltfishhouse,wheremanymeninsalt-stainedgarmentsarerunningabout,theirarmsladenwithlargeflatobjects,ofsharpandjaggededge,whichresembledriedandcracklinghidesofsomeanimalcuriouslylikeahugefish;andnumerousothersof“thesame”aretrundlingroundwheelbarrow-liketruckslikewisesoladen.Wherestacksofthesehidesstandontheirtailsagainstthewalls,andgoodnessknowshowmanybigboxesare,containing,asthoseopenshow,beautifullysoft,thick,cream-coloredslabs,whichisfish.Andwherestillothermen,inoverallsstainedlikeapainter’spalette,areknockingofftheheadsofcasksanddippingoutofbrinestillotherkindsoffishforinspection.16Hereitissaidbytheheadofthehouse,bythestove(itischillweather)inhisofficelikea

159shipmaster’scabin:“Strongmarketonforeignmackerel.MineshinderNorwaycatch.AdvicesfromabroadreportthatGermanresourcescontinuetopurchaseallavailablesuppliesfromtheNorwegianfishermen.NoIrishofanyaccount.Recentshipmentsoldonthedeckathighprices.FairdemandfromtheMiddleWest.”17So,bystages,onuptoturnintoNorthMooreStreet,lookingdownanarrowlanebetweentwolongbristlingrowsofwagonspointedoutfromthecurbs,tothefacadesoftheNorthRiverdocksatthebottom,withthetopsofthebufffunnelsofoceanliners,andWhistleraneansilhouettesofderricks,risingbeyond.Hereaboutaremoreimporters,exporters,and“producers”offish,famousintheircallingbeyondthecelebritiesofpopularpublicity.Andhethathasofficialentréemaylearn,bymountingduskystairs,half-ladderandhalf-stair,andbypassingthroughlow-ceilingedchambersfreightedwithmanybarrels,tothesanctumsofthefishlords,what’sdoingintheforeignherringway,andgetthecurrentmarketquotations,atpresentsky-high,andhearthattheAmericanshoremackerelcatchisveryfinestock.18Thenroundabout,withastepintothebroadvistaofhomelyWashingtonStreet,andaturnthroughFranklinStreet,whereisthemandecoratedbytheImperialJapaneseGovernmentwithagoldmedal,ifheshouldcaretowearit,forhavingdistinguishedhimselfinthedevelopmentofcommerceinthemarineproductsofJapan,backtoHudsonStreet.AnauthenticrailroadisoneofthespectacularfeaturesofHudsonStreet.19Heredownthemiddleofthewayareendlesstrains,stopping,starting,crashing,ladentotheirearswithfreight,doubtlessalltoeat.TouristsshouldcomefromveryfartoviewHudsonStreet.Hereisaspectacleasfascinating,asawe-inspiring,asextraordinaryasanyintheworld.Fromdawnuntildarknessfalls,hourafterhour,alongHudsonStreetslowly,steadilymovesamightyprocessionofgreattrucks.Onewouldnotsupposethereweresomanytrucksonthefaceoftheearth.Itisaglorioussight,andanymanwhosesoulisnotdeadshouldjumpwithjoytoseeit.Andthethunderofthemaltogetherastheybangoverthestonesislikethemusicofthespheres.20ThereisonHudsonStreetatallhandsomebuildingwherethefishreportergoes,whichshouldbeenjoyedinthisway:Upintheliftyougotothetop,andthenyouwalkdown,smackingyourlips.Forallthedoorsinthatbuildingarebrimmingwithpoetry.Andthetuneofitgoeslikethis:“ToastedCorn-FlakeCo.,”“SeaboardRice,”“ChiliProducts,”“RedBloomGrapeJuiceSalesOffice,”“PortoRicoandSingaporePineappleCo.,”“SunnylandFoodstuffs,”“ImportersofFruitPulps,Pimentos,”“SoleAgentsU.S.A.ItalianSaladOil,”“RaisinGrowers,”“LogCabinSyrups,”“JobbersinBeans,Peas,”“ChocolateandCocoaPreparations,”“OhioEvaporatedMilkCo.,”“BerneseAlpsandHollandCondensedMilkCo.,”“BrazilianNutsCo.,”“BrokersPacificCoastSalmon,”“CaliforniaTunaCo.,”andthusonandon.21ThefishreportercrossesthestreettoseetheheadoftheSardineTrust,whohasjustthrownthe

160marketintoexcitementbyaheavycutinpricesoflastyear’spack.Thence,pausingtorefreshhimselfbythewayatasign“AgencyforReimsChampagneandMoselleWines—BordeauxClaretsandSauternes,”overtoBroadwaytointerviewthemostaugustpersonsofall,dealersinfertilizer,“fishscrap.”Thesemightygentlemenlive,whenatbusiness,inpalatialsuitesofofficesconstructedofmarbleandfinewoodsandlaidwithrichrugs.Thereporterisrelayedintotheinnermostsanctumbyasuccessionofrichlyclothedattendants.Andhelearns,itmaybe,thatfishinginChesapeakeBayissopoorthatsomeofthe“fishfactories”maydecidetoshutdown.Acidphosphate,itissaid,isrulingat$13f.o.b.Baltimore.22Andsothefishreporterentersuponthelastlapofhisrounds.Through,perhaps,thenarrow,crookedlaneofPineStreethepasses,tocomeoutatlengthuponascenesetforaseatale.Herewouldalad,heirtovastestatesinVirginia,bekidnappedandsmuggledaboardtobesoldaslaveinAfrica.ThisisFrontStreet.Awhiteshipliesatthefootofit.Cranesriseatherside.Tugs,belchingsmoke,bobbeyond.Allaboutareancientwarehouses,redolentoftheThames,withsteeproofsandsometimesstairsoutside,andwithtallshutters,acrescent-shapedholeineach.Thereisadealerinweather-vanes.Otherthingsdealtinhereaboutarethese:chronometers,“nauticalinstruments,”waxgums,cordageandtwine,marinepaints,cottonwoolandwaste,turpentine,oils,greases,androsin.Queeroldtaverns,publichouses,arehere,too.Whydonottheirwindowsrattlewitha“Yo,ho,ho”?23Thereisanold,oldhousewhosebusinesshasbeenfishoilwithinthememoryofmen.Andhereisanother.Next,throughWaterStreet,onecomesinsearchofthelastwordonsaltfish.Nowtheairisfilledwithgorgeoussmellofroastingcoffee.Tea,coffee,sugar,rice,spices,bagsandbaggingherehavetheirhome.Andtherearehaughtybondedwarehousesfilledwithfineliquors.Fromhiswhitecabinatthetopofavenerablestructurecomesthedeanofthesaltfishbusiness.“Exporttradefair,”hesays;“gooddemandfromSouthAmerica.”

16132.SomeNonsenseaboutaDogbyHarryEstyDounceHarryEstyDouncewasborninSyracusein1889andgraduatedfromHamiltonCollegein1910.Hisfirstjobwasasacubreporteronthejournalthatnewspapermenaffectionatelycall“theoldSun”;theadjectiveispronouncedasthoughitwereinitalics.HewasonthestaffoftheSyracuseHerald,1912–14;spentayearinNewOrleanswritingshortstories,andreturnedin1916tothemagazinestaffoftheSun.HewaseditoroftheSun’sbookreviewsection,1919–20;in1920hejoinedthestaffoftheNewYorkEveningPost.“Myhandwillmisstheinsinuatednose—”SirWilliamWatson.BUTthedogthatwaswrittenofmusthavebeenabigdog.Nibbiewasjustacomfortablelapful,oncehehaddulyturnedaroundandcurledupwithhisnoseinhistail.1Thisisforpeoplewhoknowaboutdogs,inparticularlittlemongrelswithoutpedigreeormarketvalue.Otherpeople,nodoubt,willfinditdisgustinglymaudlin.IwouldhavefounditsobeforeNibbiecame.2Thedayhecamewasabeautifulbright,cooloneinanAugust.Atouringcarbroughthim.Theyputhimdownonourcorner,meaningtolosehim,buthecrawledunderthecar,andtheyhadtoprodhimoutandthrowstonesbeforetheycoulddriveon.SothatwhenIcamehomeIfound,withhismistress-elect,asortofpotbelliedbundleoftarryoakum,cakedwithmud,pantingconvulsivelystillfromfright,andshowingthewhitesofuncommonlyliquidbrowneyesandapinktongue.Therewastennisthateveningandhewentalong—Icarriedhimovertherailroadtracks;hegaveusnotroubleabouttheballs,butlayhuddledunderthebenchwhereshesat,andshiveredifamancamenearhim.3Thatnighthegotchopbonesandshegotasensiblehomilyontheunwisdomoffeedingstrays,andhewasleftoutdoors.Hesleptonthemat.Thesecondmorningwethoughthehadgone.Thethird,hewasback,waggingapprovalofusandintenttostay,whichseemedtoleavenochoicebuttotakehimin.Wehadfunovernames.“Jellywaggles,”suggestedfromnextdoor,wasundeniablydescriptive.“Rags”fitted,or“Toby”or“Nig”—buttheyhadacoloredmaidnextdoor;finallywecalledhim“Nibs,”andsoonhistailwouldanswertoit.4Cleanedup—scrubbed,theinsolublemattedlocksclippedfromhiscoat,histrampishcollarreplacedwithanewonebearingalicensetag—hewasfarfrombeingunpresentable.Avet.onceopinedthatforamongrelhewasagooddog,thatablackcockermotherhadthrownhercapoverScottishmills,sotospeak.Thisanalysisaccountedforhimperfectly.Always,dependingonthemoment’smood,hewaseitherterrierorspaniel,thesnapandscrapandperkoftheone

162alternatingwiththegentlesnugglingindolenceoftheother.5Asterrierhewoulddigfuriouslybythehourafterafieldmouse;asspanielhewould“read”thebreezewiththebestnoseamongthedogfolkofourneighborhood,orfollowatrailquitewell.Iknowtherewasretrievingblood.AyearagoMayhecaughtandbroughtme,notdoingtheleastinjury,anoriolethatprobablyhadflownagainstawireandwasstrugglingdisabledinthegrass.6Nibbiewasshabby-genteelblack,sunburntastothemustache,grizzledastotheraggyfringeonhishaunches.Hehadawhitestockandshirt-frillandawhiteforepaw.Thebrowneyesfullofheartwerethebestpoint.HisbodycoatwasroughScottishworsted,thelittleblackpatewascotton-softlikeshoddy,andthebigblackearsweregenuinespanielsilk.Asaterrierheheldthemupsmartlyandcarriedaplumyfishhookofatail;asaspanieltheearsdroopedandthetailswungmeeklyasifinapologyforneverhavingbeenclipped.Theotherdaywhenwehadtosaygood-bytohimeachofuscutonesilkytuftfromanear,verymuchaswehadsooftenwhenhe’dbeenamongtheburdocksinthefieldwherethegardenis.7BurrswerebynomeansNibbie’sonlyfailing.Infleatimeitseemedhardlypossiblethatadogofhissizecouldsustainhispopulation.Wefinallyfoundatruefleabane,but,desertedoneday,hewaspopulousagainthenext.Theydon’trelisheveryhuman;metheydid;Iusedtostormathimforit,andheused,betweenspasmsofscratching,tolistenadmiringlyandwag.Wethinkhesupposedhistormentorswerewingedinsects,forhesoughtrefugeindarkclothes-closetswhereaflyingimpwouldn’tlogicallycome.8Hewaswilful,insistedonlandinginlapswhentheirmakerswantedtoread.Hewouldmakeadvancestovisitorswhowerepoliteabouthim.Hewouldgetupontheliving-roomtable,whyandhow,heavenknows,findinghisopportunitywhenwewereoutofthehouse,andtakingcaretobeupstairsonabed—white,grimeablecoverletspreferred—bythetimewehadthefrontdooropen;Iusedtoslipuptotheporchandcatchthroughawindowthedivingflourishofhissinfultail.9Oneofhisfaultsmusthavebeenaneurosisreally.Heledahardlifebeforewetookhimin,aswitnessedthegamehindlegthatmadehimsitupside-saddlefashion,andtwosuchscarsonhisbackasboilinghotgreasemighthavemade.Andsomethingespeciallycruelhadbeendonetohimwhenasleep,forifyoubentoverhimnappingorinhisbedhewouldhalfrouseandgrowl,andsometimessnapblindly.(Wedreadedexuberantvisitingchildren.)TwoorthreeexperimentsIhatetoremembernowconvincedmethatitcouldn’tbewhippedoutofhim,andoncewideawakehewassuretobeperplexedlyapologetic.10Hewasspoiled.Thatwasourdoing.Webabiedhimabominably—hewas,fortwoyears,theonlysubjectwehadforsuchmalpractice.HehadmorefoolishnamesthanWogg,thatdogofMrs.Stevenson’s,andheardmoreLittleLanguagethanStellaeverdid,reciprocatingbykissing

163profferedearsinhisdoggyway.Oncehehadbrightenedupafterhisarrival,heshowedhimselfreadytotakeanellwheneverwegaveaninch,andhewasalwaystakingthem,andneverpayingpenalties.Hehadconscienceenoughtobesly.Irememberthesummereveningwesteppedoutsideforjustaninstant,andcamebacktofindacuriousgrooveacrossthebutter,onthediningtable,andanever-so-innocentNibbieinachairinthenextroom.11Whilewewereatthetablehewasgenerallyaroundit,bulldozingfortid-bits—Ifearhehadreasontoknowthatthiswouldwork.OnefortnightwhenhisMissiewasawayhesleptonhisOldMan’sbed(wehaddroppedtitlesofdignitywithhimbythen)andherangthewelkinhourly,answeringfar-awaydogfriends,andoccasionallycamenorthtolollopmyfacewithtendersolicitude,justlikethefoolnurseinthestory,wakingthepatientuptoaskifhewassleepingwell.12Morerecently,whenaberuffledbasketwaswaiting,hedevelopedanalarmingtrickofstealingintheretotryit,soIfittedthatdoorwithahook,insuringacrackimpervioustodogs.AndtheothernightIhadtotakethehook,nowuseless,off;wecouldn’tstandhearingitjingle.Headoptedthejuniormemberonfirstsightandsniffofhim,bytheway;wouldlookonbeamingasproudlyasifhe’dhatchedhim.13Thelastofhisiniquitiesarosefromavalorthatlackeditsbetterpart,anabsurdmixtureofFalstaffandbantamrooster.Atthecriticalpointhe’dbackoutofafusswithadogofhisownsize.Butletapolicedog,anAiredale,aSt.Bernard,orabiguglycurappearandNibbiewasallaroundhim,blackguardinghimunendurably.Itwasluckythatthebigdogsinourneighborhoodwerepatient.Andheneverwouldlearnaboutautomobiles.Usuallytriedtotacklethemheadon,oftenstoppedcarswithmercifuldrivers.Whenthecarwouldn’tstop,luckwouldsavehimbyafractionofaninch.Icouldn’tspankthatoutofhimeither.Wehadreallybeenexpectingwhatfinallyhappenedfortwoyears.14That’saboutall.Toomuch,Iamafraid.Adecentfatemadeitquicktheothernight,andcleanandcloseathand,infact,onthesamestreetcornerwhereonceacarhadleftthesmallscapegraceforus.Wetellourselveshowgladweareithappenedasitdid,insteadofanagonalendingsuchasmanyofhispeoplecometo.Wetellourselveswecouldn’thavehadhimforeverinanyevent;thatsomeday,forthejuniormember’ssake,weshallgetanotherdog.Wekeeptellingourselvesthesethings,andtalkingwithanimationonothertopics.Themuzzle,theleash,thedrinkingdisharehidden,thelastmuddypawtracksweptup,thenosesmudgeswashedoffthefavoritefrontwindowpane.15Butthehouseisfullofalittlesnoofing,wagging,lovingghost.IknowhowtheboyThoreaufeltaboutahereafterwithdogsbarred.Iwanttothinkthatsomewhere,sometime,Iwillbecominghomeagain,andthatwhenthedooropensNibbiewillbeonhandtocaperwelcome.

16433.TheFifty-FirstDragonbyHeywoodBrounHeywoodBroun,whohasrisenrapidlythroughtheranksofnewspaperhonorfromsportingreporterandwarcorrespondenttooneofthemosthighlyregardeddramaticandliterarycriticsinthecountry,isanotheroftheseHarvardmen,but,asfarasthisbookisconcerned,thelastofthem.BroungraduatedfromHarvardin1910;wasseveralyearsontheNewYorkTribune,andisnowontheWorld.Thereisnomoresubstantiallygiftednewspapermaninhisfield;hisbeautifullyspontaneoushumoranddrolleryarecounterbalancedbyafineimaginativesensitivenessandaremarkablepowerinthefableorallegoricalessay,suchastheoneherereprinted.Hisbook,SeeingThingsatNight,isonlythefirst-fruitoftrulysplendidpossibilities.IfImaybeallowedtoprophesy,thushazardingall,IwillsaythatHeywoodBrounislikely,inthenexttenorfifteenyears,todoasfinework,bothimaginativeandcritical,asanylivingAmericanofhisera.OFallthepupilsattheknightschoolGawaineleCœur-Hardywasamongtheleastpromising.Hewastallandsturdy,buthisinstructorssoondiscoveredthathelackedspirit.Hewouldhideinthewoodswhenthejoustingclasswascalled,althoughhiscompanionsandmembersofthefacultysoughttoappealtohisbetternaturebyshoutingtohimtocomeoutandbreakhisnecklikeaman.Evenwhentheytoldhimthatthelanceswerepadded,thehorsesnomorethanponiesandthefieldunusuallysoftforlateautumn,Gawainerefusedtogrowenthusiastic.TheHeadmasterandtheAssistantProfessorofPleasauncewerediscussingthecaseonespringafternoonandtheAssistantProfessorcouldseenoremedybutexpulsion.1“No,”saidtheHeadmaster,ashelookedoutatthepurplehillswhichringedtheschool,“IthinkI’lltrainhimtoslaydragons.”2“Hemightbekilled,”objectedtheAssistantProfessor.3“Sohemight,”repliedtheHeadmasterbrightly,butheadded,moresoberly,“wemustconsiderthegreatergood.Weareresponsiblefortheformationofthislad’scharacter.”4“Arethedragonsparticularlybadthisyear?”interruptedtheAssistantProfessor.Thiswascharacteristic.Healwaysseemedrestivewhentheheadoftheschoolbegantotalkethicsandtheidealsoftheinstitution.5“I’veneverknownthemworse,”repliedtheHeadmaster.“Upinthehillstothesouthlastweektheykilledanumberofpeasants,twocowsandaprizepig.Andifthisdryspellholdsthere’snotellingwhentheymaystartaforestfiresimplybybreathingaroundindiscriminately.”6“WouldanyrefundonthetuitionfeebenecessaryincaseofanaccidenttoyoungCœurHardy?”7“No,”theprincipalanswered,judicially,“that’sallcoveredinthecontract.Butasamatteroffacthewon’tbekilled.BeforeIsendhimupinthehillsI’mgoingtogivehimamagicword.”

1658“That’sagoodidea,”saidtheProfessor.“Sometimestheyworkwonders.”9FromthatdayonGawainespecializedindragons.Hiscourseincludedboththeoryandpractice.Inthemorningtherewerelonglecturesonthehistory,anatomy,mannersandcustomsofdragons.Gawainedidnotdistinguishhimselfinthesestudies.Hehadamarvelouslyversatilegiftforforgettingthings.Intheafternoonheshowedtobetteradvantage,forthenhewouldgodowntotheSouthMeadowandpractisewithabattle-ax.Inthisexercisehewastrulyimpressive,forhehadenormousstrengthaswellasspeedandgrace.Heevendevelopedadeceptivedisplayofferocity.OldalumnisaythatitwasathrillingsighttoseeGawainechargingacrossthefieldtowardthedummypaperdragonwhichhadbeensetupforhispractice.Asheranhewouldbrandishhisaxandshout“Amurrainonthee!”orsomeothervividbitofcampusslang.Itnevertookhimmorethanonestroketobeheadthedummydragon.10Graduallyhistaskwasmademoredifficult.Papergavewaytopapier-mâchéandfinallytowood,buteventhetoughestofthesedummydragonshadnoterrorsforGawaine.Onesweepoftheaxalwaysdidthebusiness.Therewerethosewhosaidthatwhenthepracticewasprotracteduntilduskandthedragonsthrewlong,fantasticshadowsacrossthemeadowGawainedidnotchargesoimpetuouslynorshoutsoloudly.Itispossibletherewasmaliceinthischarge.Atanyrate,theHeadmasterdecidedbytheendofJunethatitwastimeforthetest.Onlythenightbeforeadragonhadcomeclosetotheschoolgroundsandhadeatensomeofthelettucefromthegarden.ThefacultydecidedthatGawainewasready.Theygavehimadiplomaandanewbattle-axandtheHeadmastersummonedhimtoaprivateconference.11“Sitdown,”saidtheHeadmaster.“Haveacigarette.”12Gawainehesitated.13“Oh,Iknowit’sagainsttherules,”saidtheHeadmaster.“Butafterall,youhavereceivedyourpreliminarydegree.Youarenolongeraboy.Youareaman.To-morrowyouwillgooutintotheworld,thegreatworldofachievement.”14Gawainetookacigarette.TheHeadmasterofferedhimamatch,butheproducedoneofhisownandbegantopuffawaywithadexteritywhichquiteamazedtheprincipal.15“Hereyouhavelearnedthetheoriesoflife,”continuedtheHeadmaster,resumingthethreadofhisdiscourse,“butafterall,lifeisnotamatteroftheories.Lifeisamatteroffacts.Itcallsontheyoungandtheoldaliketofacethesefacts,eventhoughtheyarehardandsometimesunpleasant.Yourproblem,forexample,istoslaydragons.”16“Theysaythatthosedragonsdowninthesouthwoodarefivehundredfeetlong,”venturedGawaine,timorously.17“Stuffandnonsense!”saidtheHeadmaster.“ThecuratesawonelastweekfromthetopofArthur’sHill.Thedragonwassunninghimselfdowninthevalley.Thecuratedidn’thavean

166opportunitytolookathimverylongbecausehefeltitwashisdutytohurrybacktomakeareporttome.Hesaidthemonster,orshallIsay,thebiglizard?—wasn’taninchovertwohundredfeet.Butthesizehasnothingatalltodowithit.You’llfindthebigoneseveneasierthanthelittleones.They’refarslowerontheirfeetandlessaggressive,I’mtold.Besides,beforeyougoI’mgoingtoequipyouinsuchfashionthatyouneedhavenofearofallthedragonsintheworld.”18“I’dlikeanenchantedcap,”saidGawaine.19“What’sthat?”answeredtheHeadmaster,testily.20“Acaptomakemedisappear,”explainedGawaine.21TheHeadmasterlaughedindulgently.“Youmustn’tbelieveallthoseoldwives’stories,”hesaid.“Thereisn’tanysuchthing.Acaptomakeyoudisappear,indeed!Whatwouldyoudowithit?Youhaven’tevenappearedyet.Why,myboy,youcouldwalkfromheretoLondon,andnobodywouldsomuchaslookatyou.You’renobody.Youcouldn’tbemoreinvisiblethanthat.”22Gawaineseemeddangerouslyclosetoarelapseintohisoldhabitofwhimpering.TheHeadmasterreassuredhim:“Don’tworry;I’llgiveyousomethingmuchbetterthananenchantedcap.I’mgoingtogiveyouamagicword.Allyouhavetodoistorepeatthismagiccharmonceandnodragoncanpossiblyharmahairofyourhead.Youcancutoffhisheadatyourleisure.”23Hetookaheavybookfromtheshelfbehindhisdeskandbegantorunthroughit.“Sometimes,”hesaid,“thecharmisawholephraseorevenasentence.Imight,forinstance,giveyou‘Tomakethe’—No,thatmightnotdo.Ithinkasinglewordwouldbebestfordragons.”24“Ashortword,”suggestedGawaine.25“Itcan’tbetooshortoritwouldn’tbepotent.Thereisn’tsomuchhurryasallthat.Here’sasplendidmagicword:‘Rumplesnitz.’Doyouthinkyoucanlearnthat?”26Gawainetriedandinanhourorsoheseemedtohavethewordwellinhand.Againandagainheinterruptedthelessontoinquire,“AndifIsay‘Rumplesnitz’thedragoncan’tpossiblyhurtme?”AndalwaystheHeadmasterreplied,“Ifyouonlysay‘Rumplesnitz,’youareperfectlysafe.”27TowardmorningGawaineseemedresignedtohiscareer.AtdaybreaktheHeadmastersawhimtotheedgeoftheforestandpointedhimtothedirectioninwhichheshouldproceed.AboutamileawaytothesouthwestacloudofsteamhoveredoveranopenmeadowinthewoodsandtheHeadmasterassuredGawainethatunderthesteamhewouldfindadragon.Gawainewentforwardslowly.HewonderedwhetheritwouldbebesttoapproachthedragonontherunashedidinhispracticeintheSouthMeadowortowalkslowlytowardhim,shouting“Rumplesnitz”alltheway.28Theproblemwasdecidedforhim.Nosoonerhadhecometothefringeofthemeadowthanthe

167dragonspiedhimandbegantocharge.ItwasalargedragonandyetitseemeddecidedlyaggressiveinspiteoftheHeadmaster’sstatementtothecontrary.Asthedragonchargeditreleasedhugecloudsofhissingsteamthroughitsnostrils.Itwasalmostasifagiganticteapothadgonemad.ThedragoncameforwardsofastandGawainewassofrightenedthathehadtimetosay“Rumplesnitz”onlyonce.Ashesaidit,heswunghisbattle-axandoffpoppedtheheadofthedragon.Gawainehadtoadmitthatitwaseveneasiertokillarealdragonthanawoodenoneifonlyyousaid“Rumplesnitz.”29Gawainebroughttheearshomeandasmallsectionofthetail.Hisschoolmatesandthefacultymademuchofhim,buttheHeadmasterwiselykepthimfrombeingspoiledbyinsistingthathegoonwithhiswork.EverycleardayGawaineroseatdawnandwentouttokilldragons.TheHeadmasterkepthimathomewhenitrained,becausehesaidthewoodsweredampandunhealthyatsuchtimesandthathedidn’twanttheboytorunneedlessrisks.FewgooddayspassedinwhichGawainefailedtogetadragon.Ononeparticularlyfortunatedayhekilledthree,ahusbandandwifeandavisitingrelative.Graduallyhedevelopedatechnique.Pupilswhosometimeswatchedhimfromthehill-topsalongwayoffsaidthatheoftenallowedthedragontocomewithinafewfeetbeforehesaid“Rumplesnitz.”Hecametosayitwithamockingsneer.Occasionallyhedidstunts.OncewhenanexcursionpartyfromLondonwaswatchinghimhewentintoactionwithhisrighthandtiedbehindhisback.Thedragon’sheadcameoffjustaseasily.30AsGawaine’srecordofkillingsmountedhighertheHeadmasterfounditimpossibletokeephimcompletelyinhand.Hefellintothehabitofstealingoutatnightandengaginginlongdrinkingboutsatthevillagetavern.ItwasaftersuchadebauchthatherosealittlebeforedawnonefineAugustmorningandstartedoutafterhisfiftiethdragon.Hisheadwasheavyandhismindsluggish.Hewasheavyinotherrespectsaswell,forhehadadoptedthesomewhatvulgarpracticeofwearinghismedals,ribbonsandall,whenhewentoutdragonhunting.Thedecorationsbeganonhischestandranallthewaydowntohisabdomen.Theymusthaveweighedatleasteightpounds.31Gawainefoundadragoninthesamemeadowwherehehadkilledthefirstone.Itwasafair-sizeddragon,butevidentlyanoldone.ItsfacewaswrinkledandGawainethoughthehadneverseensohideousacountenance.Muchtothelad’sdisgust,themonsterrefusedtochargeandGawainewasobligedtowalktowardhim.Hewhistledashewent.Thedragonregardedhimhopelessly,butcraftily.OfcourseithadheardofGawaine.Evenwhentheladraisedhisbattle-axthedragonmadenomove.Itknewthattherewasnosalvationinthequickestthrustofthehead,forithadbeeninformedthatthishunterwasprotectedbyanenchantment.Itmerelywaited,hopingsomethingwouldturnup.Gawaineraisedthebattle-axandsuddenlylowereditagain.Hehadgrownverypaleandhetrembledviolently.Thedragonsuspectedatrick.“What’sthe

168matter?”itasked,withfalsesolicitude.32“I’veforgottenthemagicword,”stammeredGawaine.33“Whatapity,”saidthedragon.“Sothatwasthesecret.Itdoesn’tseemquitesportingtome,allthismagicstuff,youknow.Notcricket,asweusedtosaywhenIwasalittledragon;butafterall,that’samatterofopinion.”34Gawainewassohelplesswithterrorthatthedragon’sconfidenceroseimmeasurablyanditcouldnotresistthetemptationtoshowoffabit.35“CouldIpossiblybeofanyassistance?”itasked.“What’sthefirstletterofthemagicword?”36“Itbeginswithan‘r,”’saidGawaineweakly.37“Let’ssee,”musedthedragon,“thatdoesn’ttellusmuch,doesit?Whatsortofawordisthis?Isitanepithet,doyouthink?”38Gawainecoulddonomorethannod.39“Why,ofcourse,”exclaimedthedragon,“reactionaryRepublican.”40Gawaineshookhishead.41“Well,then,”saidthedragon,“we’dbettergetdowntobusiness.Willyousurrender?”42WiththesuggestionofacompromiseGawainemusteredupenoughcouragetospeak.43“WhatwillyoudoifIsurrender?”heasked.44“Why,I’lleatyou,”saidthedragon.45“AndifIdon’tsurrender?”46“I’lleatyoujustthesame.”47“Thenitdoesn’tmeananydifference,doesit?”moanedGawaine.48“Itdoestome,”saidthedragonwithasmile.“I’dratheryoudidn’tsurrender.You’dtastemuchbetterifyoudidn’t.”49ThedragonwaitedforalongtimeforGawainetoask“Why?”buttheboywastoofrightenedtospeak.Atlastthedragonhadtogivetheexplanationwithouthiscueline.“Yousee,”hesaid,“ifyoudon’tsurrenderyou’lltastebetterbecauseyou’lldiegame.”50Thiswasanoldandancienttrickofthedragon’s.Bymeansofsomesuchquiphewasaccustomedtoparalyzehisvictimswithlaughterandthentodestroythem.Gawainewassufficientlyparalyzedasitwas,butlaughterhadnopartinhishelplessness.Withthelastwordofthejokethedragondrewbackhisheadandstruck.InthatsecondthereflashedintothemindofGawainethemagicword“Rumplesnitz,”buttherewasnotimetosayit.Therewastimeonlytostrikeand,withoutaword,Gawainemettheonrushofthedragonwithafullswing.Heputallhisbackandshouldersintoit.Theimpactwasterrificandtheheadofthedragonflewawayalmostahundredyardsandlandedinathicket.51Gawainedidnotremainfrightenedverylongafterthedeathofthedragon.Hismoodwasone

169ofwonder.Hewasenormouslypuzzled.Hecutofftheearsofthemonsteralmostinatrance.Againandagainhethoughttohimself,“Ididn’tsay‘Rumplesnitz’!”Hewassureofthatandyettherewasnoquestionthathehadkilledthedragon.Infact,hehadneverkilledonesoutterly.Neverbeforehadhedrivenaheadforanythinglikethesamedistance.Twenty-fiveyardswasperhapshisbestpreviousrecord.Allthewaybacktotheknightschoolhekeptrumblingaboutinhismindseekinganexplanationforwhathadoccurred.HewenttotheHeadmasterimmediatelyandafterclosingthedoortoldhimwhathadhappened.“Ididn’tsay‘Rumplesnitz,’”heexplainedwithgreatearnestness.52TheHeadmasterlaughed.“I’mgladyou’vefoundout,”hesaid.“Itmakesyoueversomuchmoreofahero.Don’tyouseethat?Nowyouknowthatitwasyouwhokilledallthesedragonsandnotthatfoolishlittleword‘Rumplesnitz.’”53Gawainefrowned.“Thenitwasn’tamagicwordafterall?”heasked.54“Ofcoursenot,”saidtheHeadmaster,“yououghttobetoooldforsuchfoolishness.Thereisn’tanysuchthingasamagicword.”55“Butyoutoldmeitwasmagic,”protestedGawaine.“Yousaiditwasmagicandnowyousayitisn’t.”56“Itwasn’tmagicinaliteralsense,”answeredtheHeadmaster,“butitwasmuchmorewonderfulthanthat.Thewordgaveyouconfidence.Ittookawayyourfears.IfIhadn’ttoldyouthatyoumighthavebeenkilledtheveryfirsttime.Itwasyourbattle-axdidthetrick.”57GawainesurprisedtheHeadmasterbyhisattitude,Hewasobviouslydistressedbytheexplanation.HeinterruptedalongphilosophicandethicaldiscoursebytheHeadmasterwith,“IfIhadn’tofhit’emallmightyhardandfastanyoneof’emmighthavecrushedmelikea,likea—”Hefumbledforaword.58“Eggshell,”suggestedtheHeadmaster.59“Likeaeggshell,”assentedGawaine,andhesaiditmanytimes.Allthroughtheeveningmealpeoplewhosatnearhimheardhimmuttering,“Likeaeggshell,likeaeggshell.”60Thenextdaywasclear,butGawainedidnotgetupatdawn.Indeed,itwasalmostnoonwhentheHeadmasterfoundhimcoweringinbed,withtheclothespulledoverhishead.TheprincipalcalledtheAssistantProfessorofPleasaunce,andtogethertheydraggedtheboytowardtheforest.61“He’llbeallrightassoonashegetsacouplemoredragonsunderhisbelt,”explainedtheHeadmaster.62“TheAssistantProfessorofPleasaunceagreed.“Itwouldbeashametostopsuchafinerun,”hesaid.“Why,countingthatoneyesterday,he’skilledfiftydragons.”63Theypushedtheboyintoathicketabovewhichhungameagercloudofsteam.Itwasobviouslyquiteasmalldragon.ButGawainedidnotcomebackthatnightorthenext.Infact,he

170nevercameback.Someweeksafterwardbravespiritsfromtheschoolexploredthethicket,buttheycouldfindnothingtoremindthemofGawaineexceptthemetalpartsofhismedals.Eventheribbonshadbeendevoured.64TheHeadmasterandtheAssistantProfessorofPleasaunceagreedthatitwouldbejustaswellnottotelltheschoolhowGawainehadachievedhisrecordandstilllesshowhecametodie.Theyheldthatitmighthaveabadeffectonschoolspirit.Accordingly,Gawainehaslivedinthememoryoftheschoolasitsgreatesthero.Novisitorsucceedsinleavingthebuildingto-daywithoutseeingagreatshieldwhichhangsonthewallofthedininghall.Fiftypairsofdragons’earsaremountedupontheshieldandunderneathingiltlettersis“GawaineleCœur-Hardy,”followedbythesimpleinscription,“Hekilledfiftydragons.”Therecordhasneverbeenequaled.