Contents：
WINDSANDWATERS
Ceres’RunawayWellsRainTheTowPathTheTetheredConstellationsRushesandReedsINABOOKROOM
ANorthernFancyPathosAnimaPellegrina！
APointofBiographyTheHonoursofMortalityComposureTheLittleLanguageACounterchangeHarlequinMercutioCOMMENTARIES
LaughterTheRhythmofLifeDomusAngustaInnocenceandExperienceTheHoursofSleepSolitudeDecivilizedWAYFARING
TheSpiritofPlacePopularBurlesqueHavePatience，LittleSaintAtMonasteryGatesTheSeaWallARTS
TithonusSymmetryandIncidentThePlaidTheFlowerUnstableEquilibriumVictorianCaricatureThePointofHonour\"THECHEARFULLADIEOFTHELIGHT\"
TheColourofLifeTheHorizonInJulyCloudShadowsWOMENANDBOOKS
TheSeventeenthCenturyMrs。DingleyPrueMrs。JohnsonMadameRoland\"THEDARLINGYOUNG\"
FellowTravellerswithaBirdTheChildofTumultTheChildofSubsidingTumultTheUnreadyThatPrettyPersonUndertheEarlyStarsTheIllusionofHistoricTimeCERES’RUNAWAY
OnecanhardlybedullpossessingthepleasantimaginarypictureofaMunicipalityhotinchaseofawildcrop——atleastwhilethecharmingquarryescapes，asitdoesinRome。TheMunicipalitydoesnotexistthatwouldbenimbleenoughtoovertaketheRomangrowthofgreeninthehighplacesofthecity。Itistruethattherehavebeenthefamouscaptures——thoseintheColosseum，andintheBathsofCaracalla；moreoveralessconspicuousrunningtoearthtakesplaceontheAppianWay，insomemilesofthesolitudeoftheCampagna，wheremenareemployedinweedingtheroadside。Theyslowlyuprootthegrassandlayitontheancientstones——rowsoflittlecorpses——forsweepingup，asatUpperTooting；onewonderswhy。ThegovernorsofthecitywillnotsucceedinmakingtheViaAppialookbusy，oritsstrippedstonessuggestiveofathrivingcommerce。Again，atthecemeterywithinthenowtornandshatteredAurelianwallbythePortaSanPaolo，theyareoftenmowingofbuttercups。\"Alightoflaughingflowersalongthegrassisspread，\"saysShelley，whosechildliesbetweenKeatsandthepyramid。Butacoupleofactivescythesarekeptatworktheresummerandspring——notthatthegrassislong，foritismuchovertoppedbythebee-orchis，butbecauseflowersarenottolaughwithinreachofthecivicvigilance。
Yet，exceptthatitisovertakenandputtodeathintheseaccessibleplaces，thewildsummergrowthofRomehasaprevailingsuccessandvictory。Itbreaksallbounds，fliestothesummits，lodgesinthesun，swingsinthewind，takeswingtofindtheremotestledges，andbloomsaloft。Itmakeslightofthesixteenthcentury，oftheseventeenth，andoftheeighteenth。Asthehistoricagesgrowcolditbantersthemalike。Theflagrantflourishingstatue，thehaughtyfacade，thebrokenpediment（andRomeischieflythecityofthebrokenpediment）aretheopportunitiesofthisvagrantgardenintheair。Onecertainchurch，thatisfullofattitude，canhardlybeawarethatacrimsonsnapdragonofgreatstatureandmanystalksandblossomsisstandingonitsfurthestsummittiptoeagainstitssky。ThecorniceofanotherchurchinthefairmiddleofRomeliftsoutoftheshadowsofthestreetsarowofaccidentalmarigolds。Impartialtotheantique，themediaeval，theRenaissanceearlyandlate，thenewermodern，thiswildsummerfindsitsaccountintravertineandtufa，reticulatedwork，brick，stuccoandstone。\"Abirdoftheaircarriesthematter，\"orthelastsea-
wind，sombreandsoft，orthelatesttramontana，goldandblue，haslodgedinalittlefertiledustthewildgrass，wildwheat，wildoats！
IfVenushadherrunaway，afterwhomtheElizabethansraisedhueandcry，thisisCeres’。Themunicipalauthorities，hot-foot，cannotcatchit。And，worsethanall，iftheypause，dismayed，tomarktheflightoftheagilefugitivesafeonthearcofaflyingbuttress，ortakingtheplaceofthefallenmosaicsandcolouredtilesofatwelfth-centurytower，andinanycaseinaccessible，thegrassgrowsundertheirdiscomfitedfeet。Itactuallycastsaflushofgreenovertheircitypiazza——thewidelight-greypavementssovastthattokeepthemweededwouldneedanarmyofworkers。Thatarmyhasnotbeenemployed；andgrassgrowsinasmallway，butstillbeautifully，inthewidespacearoundwhichthetramwaycircles。
PerhapsahatredofitsdelightfulpresenceiswhatchieflypromptsthecivicgovernmentinRometotheefforttoturnthepiazzaintoasquare。Theshrubistotaketheplacenotsomuchofthepavementasoftheimportunategrass。Foritishardtobebeaten——andtheweeddoessoprevail，issosmall，andsodominant！Thesuntakesitspart，andonemightalmostimagineasensitiveMunicipalityintears，toseegrassrunning，overheadandunderfoot，throughthe\"third\"（whichisintruththefourth）Rome。
WhenIsaygrassIusethewordwidely。Italiangrassisnotturf；
itisfullofthings，andtheyarechieflyaromatic。Noricherscentsthrongeachother，closeandwarm，thanthesefromalittlehand-spaceofthegrassonerestson，withinthewallsorontheplain，orintheSabineortheAlbanhills。Moreover，underthenameIwilltakeleavetoincludelettuceasitgrowswithamostwelcomesurpriseoncertainledgesoftheVatican。Thatgreatandbeautifulpalaceispiled，atvariousangles，asitwerehouseuponhouse，heremagnificent，herecareless，butwithnothingpretentiousandnothingfurtive。Andoutsideonelateralwindowonaledgetothesun，prospersthislittlegardenofrandomsalad。BuckinghamPalacehasnothingwhateveroftheVaticandignity，butonecannotwellthinkoflittlecheerfulcabbagessunningthemselvesonanyparapetitmayhaveroundacorner。
Moreover，inItalythevegetables——thetableones——haveawildness，asuggestionofthegrass，fromlandsatlibertyforallthetilling。Wildishpeas，wilderasparagus——thefieldasparaguswhichseemstohavedisappearedfromEngland，butofwhichHerrickboastsinhismanifestationsoffrugality——andstrawberriesmuchlessthanhalf-wayfromthesmallanddarklingonesofthewoodstothepaleandcorpulentofthegardens，andwithnothingofthewildfragrancelost——theseareallItalianthingsofsavagesavourandsimplicity。
Themostcultivatedofallcountries，theItalyoftillage，isyetnotagarden，butsomethingbetter，ashercityisyetnotatownbutsomethingbetter，andherwildernesssomethingbetterthanadesert。Inallthethreethereisatraceofthelittleflyingheelsoftherunaway。
WELLS
Theworldatpresentisinclinedtomakesorrymysteriesorunattractivesecretsofthemethodsandsuppliesofthefreshandperennialmeansoflife。Averydullsecretismadeofwater，forexample，andtheplumbersetshissealuponthefloodswherebywelive。Theyarecovered，theyarecarried，theyarehushed，fromthespringtothetap；andwhentheirvoicesarereleasedatlastintheLondonscullery，why，itcanhardlybesaidthatthesongiseloquentofthenaturalsourceofwaters，whetherearthlyorheavenly。Thereisnotoneofthecircumstancesofthiscaptureofstreams——thecompany，thewater-rate，andtherest——thatisnotasignoftheill-luckofmoderndevicesinregardtostyle。Forstyleimpliesacandourandsimplicityofmeans，anaction，agesture，asitwere，inthedoingofsmallthings；itistheignoranceofsecretways；whereasthefinishofmodernlifeanditsneatnessseemtobesecuredbyasystemoflittleshufflingsandsurprises。
Dress，amongotherthings，isfurnishedthroughoutwithsuchfittings；theyformitsveryconstruction。Styledoesnotexistinmodernarrayings，foralltheirprettinessandprecision，andforallthesuccesses——whicharenottobedenied——oftheirouterpart；
thehappylittleswaggerthatsimulatesstyleisbutanothersignofitsabsence，beingpreparedbymeredodgesanddexteritiesbeneath，andthetriumphandsuccessofthepresentartofraiment——\"fit\"
itself——isbuttheresultofamaskedandlurkinglabouranddevice。
Themastersoffinemanners，moreover，seemtobealwaysawareofthebeautythatcomesofpausingslightlyuponthesmallerandslighteractions，suchasmeanermenareapttohurryoutoftheway。Inaword，theworkman，withhisfinishandaccomplishment，isthedexterousproviderofcontemporarythings；andtheready，well-
appointed，anddecoratedlifeofalltownsisnowaltogetherinhishands；whereastheartistcraftsmanofothertimesmadeamanifestationofhismeans。Thefirsthidesthestreams，understressandpressure，inpaltrypipeswhichweallmustmakehastetocallupontheearthtocover，andthesecondliftedupthearchesoftheaqueduct。
Thesearchofeasywaystoliveisnotalwaysoreverywherethewaytougliness，butinsomecountries，atsomedates，itisthesureway。Inallcountries，andatalldates，extremefinishcompassedbyhiddenmeansmustneeds，fromthebeginning，preparetheabolitionofdignity。Thisiseasytounderstand，butitislesseasytoexplaintheill-fortunethatpressesupontheexpertworkman，insearchofeasywaystolive，alltheill-favouredmaterials，makesthemcheapforhim，makesthemserviceableandeffectual，urgeshimtousethem，sealthem，andinterthem，turningthetrimanddullcompletenessouttotheviewofthedailyworld。
Itisanaddedmischance。Nor，ontheotherhand，isiteasytoexplainthebeautifulgoodluckattendingthesimplerdeviceswhichare，afterall，onlylessexpertwaysoflabour。Inthosehappyconditions，neitherfromthematerial，suggestingtotheworkman，norfromtheworkmanlookingaskanceathisunhandsomematerial，comesafirstproposaltopourincementandmakefasttheunderworld，outofsight。Butfatesparesnotthatsuggestiontotheableandtheunluckyattheirtaskofmakingneatworkofthemeans，thedistribution，thetraffickoflife。
Thesprings，then，theprofoundwells，thestreams，areofallthemeansofourlivesthosewhichweshouldwishtoseeopentothesun，withtheirwatersontheirprogressandtheirwaytous；but，no，theyarelappedinlead。
KingPandionandhisfriendslienotunderheavierseals。
Yetwehavebeendelighted，elsewhere，byopenfloods。Thehiding-
placethatnatureandthesimplercraftsallottothewatersofwellsare，attheirdeepest，incommunicationwiththeopensky。Noothermineissovisited；forthenoondaysunhimselfisvisiblethere；anditisfinetothinkofthewatersofthisplanet，shallowandprofound，allchargedwithshiningsuns，amultitudeofwatersmultiplyingsuns，andcarryingthatremotefire，asitwere，withintheirunalterablefreshness。Notapoolwithoutthisvisitant，orwithoutpassagesofstars。AsforthewellsoftheEquator，youmaythinkofthemintheirlastrecessesasthedailybathing-placesoflight；aluminousfancyisablesotoscatterfitfulfiguresofthesun，andtoplungetheminthousandswithinthosedeeps。
Roundimageslieinthedarkwaters，butinthebrightwatersthesunisshatteredoutofitscircle，scatteredintowaves，brokenacrossstones，andrippledoversand；andintheshallowriversthatfallthroughchestnutwoodstheimageismingledwiththemobilefiguresofleaves。Toallthesewaterstheagileairhasperpetualaccess。Notsocangreattownsbewatered，itwillbesaidwithreason；andthisispreciselytheill-luckofgreattowns。
Nevertheless，therearetowns，not，inasense，sogreat，thathavethegraceofvisiblewells；suchasVenice，whereeverycampohasitscircleofcarvedstone，itsclashingofdarkcopperonthepavement，itssoftkissofthecoppervesselwiththesurfaceofthewaterbelow，andthecheerfulworkofthecable。
OrtheRomansknewhowtocausethepartedfloodstomeasuretheirplainwiththestrong，steady，andlevelflightofarchesfromthewatershedsinthehillstotheandcity；andhavingthewaterscaptive，theyknewhowtocompelthemtotakepart，byfountains，inthisRomantriumph。Theyhadthewittoboastthusoftheirbrilliantprisoner。
NonemoresplendidcameboundtoRome，orgracedcaptivitywithamoreinvinciblelibertyoftheheart。Andthecaptivityandtheleapoftheheartofthewatershaveoutlivedtheircaptors。TheyhaveremainedinRome，andhaveremainedalone。Overthemthevictorywaslongerthanempire，andtheirthousandsofloudvoiceshaveneverceasedtoconfesstheconquestofthecoldfloods，separatedlongago，drawnonebyone，alive，totheheadandfrontoftheworld。
Ofsuchatransitismadenosecret。ItwasthemostmanifestfactofRome。Youcouldnotlooktothecityfromthemountainsortothedistancefromthecitywithoutseeingtheapproachofthoseperpetualwaters——watersboundupondailytasksandminuteservices。
This，then，wasthestyleofamaster，whodoesnotlapsefrom\"incidentalgreatness，\"hasnomeanprecision，outofsight，topreparethefinishofhisphrases，anddoesnotthinkthemeansandtheapproachesaretobeplottedandconcealed。Withoutanxiety，withouthaste，andwithoutmisgivingareallgreatthingstobedone，andneitherinterruptioninthedoingnorruinaftertheyaredonefindsanythinginthemtobetray。Therewasneveranydisgraceofmeans，andwhentheworldseestheworkbrokenthroughthereisnodisgraceofdiscovery。ThelabourofMichelangelo’schisel，littlemorethanbegun，aRomanstructurelongexposedindisarray——
uponthesethelightofdaylooksfull，andtheRomanandtheFlorentinehavetheirunrefutedpraise。
RAIN
Notexceptingthefallingstars——fortheyarefarlesssudden——thereisnothinginnaturethatsooutstripsourunreadyeyesasthefamiliarrain。Therodsthatthinlystripeourlandscape，longshaftsfromtheclouds，ifwehadbutagilitytomakethearrowydownwardjourneywiththembytheglancingofoureyes，wouldbeinfinitelyseparate，units，aninnumerableflightofsinglethings，andthesimplemovementofintricatepoints。
Thelongstrokeoftheraindrop，whichisthedropanditspathatonce，beingourimpressionofashower，showsushowcertainlyourimpressionistheeffectofthelagging，andnotofthehaste，ofoursenses。Whatweareapttocallourquickimpressionisratheroursensiblytardy，unprepared，surprised，outrun，lightlybewilderedsenseofthingsthatflashandfall，wink，andareoverpastandrenewed，whilethegentleeyesofmanhesitateandminglethebeginningwiththeclose。Theseinexperteyes，delicatelybaffled，detainforaninstanttheimagethatpuzzlesthem，andsodallywiththebrightprogressofameteor，andpartslowlyfromtheslendercourseofthealreadyfallenraindrop，whosemomentsarenottheirs。Thereseemstobesuchadifferenceofinstantsasinvestsallswiftmovementwithmysteryinman’seyes，andcausesthepast，amomentold，tobewritten，vanishing，upontheskies。
Thevisibleworldisetchedandengravedwiththesignsandrecordsofourhaltingapprehension；andthepausebetweenthedistantwoodman’sstrokewiththeaxeanditssounduponourearsisrepeatedintheimpressionsofourclingingsight。Theroundwheeldazzlesit，andthestrokeofthebird’swingshakesitofflikeacaptivityevaded。Everywherethenaturalhasteisimpatientofthesetimidsenses；andtheirperception，outrunbytheshower，shakenbythelight，deniedbytheshadow，eludedbythedistance，makesthelingeringpicturethatisallourart。Oneofthemostconstantcausesofallthemysteryandbeautyofthatartissurelynotthatweseebyflashes，butthatnatureflashesonourmeditativeeyes。Thereisnoneedfortheimpressionisttomakehaste，norwouldhasteavailhim，formobilenaturedoublesuponhim，andplayswithhisdelaystheexquisitegameofvisibility。
Momentlyvisibleinashower，invisiblewithintheearth，theministrationofwaterissomanifestinthecomingrain-cloudthatthehusbandmanisallowedtoseetherainofhisownland，yetunclaimedinthearmsoftherainywind。Itisaneagerlienthathebindstheshowerwithal，andthegraspofhisanxietyisonthecomingcloud。Hissenseofpropertytakesaimandreckonsdistanceandspeed，andevenasheshootsalittleaheadoftheequallyuncertainground-game，heknowsapproximatelyhowtohitthecloudofhispossession。Somuchistherainboundtotheearththat，unabletocompelit，manhasyetfoundaway，bylyinginwait，toputhispriceuponit。Theexhaustiblecloud\"outweepsitsrain，\"
andonlytheinexhaustiblesunseemstorepeatandtoenforcehiscumulativefiresuponeveryspanofground，innumerable。Therainiswasteduponthesea，butonlybyafantasycanthesun’swastebemadeareproachtotheocean，thedesert，orthesealed-upstreet。
Rossetti’s\"vainvirtues\"arethevirtuesoftherain，fallingunfruitfully。
Babyofthecloud，rainiscarriedlongenoughwithinthattroubledbreasttomakeallthemultitudeofdaysunlikeeachother。Rain，astheendofthecloud，divideslightandwithholdsit；initsflightwarningawaythesun，andinitsfinalfalldismissingshadow。Itisathreatandareconciliation；itremovesmountainscomparedwithwhichtheAlpsarehillocks，andmakesachildlikepeacebetweenopposedheightsandbattlementsofheaven。
THETOWPATH
Achildishpleasureinproducingsmallmechanicaleffectsunaidedmusthavesomepartinthesenseofenterprisewherewithyougirdyourshoulderswiththetackle，andsetout，alonebutnecessary，ontheevenpathoftheloppedandgrassysideoftheThames——thesideofmeadows。
Theelasticresistanceofthelineisa\"heart-animatingstrain，\"
onlytooslight；andsensibleisthethrillinitastheranksoftheriversideplants，withtheirsmallsummit-flowerofviolet-pink，aresweptasidelikealonggreenbreakerofflourishinggreen。Thelinedrumslightlyintheearswhenthebushesarehighanditgrowstaut；itmakesatelephonefortherushofflowersunderthestressofyoureasypower。
Theactivedelightsofonewhoisnotathleticarefew，likethejoysof\"feelinghearts\"accordingtotheerroneoussentimentofaverseofMoore’s。Thejoysofsensitiveheartsaremany；butthejoysofsensitivehandsarefew。Here，however，intheeffectualactoftowing，istheamplerevengeoftheunmuscularuponthehappylabourerswiththeoar，thepole，thebicycle，andallothermeansofviolence。Here，onthelongtow-path，betweenwarm，embrownedmeadowsandopalwaters，youneedbuttowalkinyourswingingharness，andsotakeyourfriendsup-stream。
Youworkmerelyasthemill-streamworks——bysimplemovement。Atlockafterlockalongahundredmiles，deep-roofedmillsshaketothewheelthatturnsbynogreaterstress，andyouandtheriverhavethesamemereforceofprogress。
Thereneverwasanykinderincentiveofcompanionship。ItisthebrightThameswalkingsoftlyinyourblood，oryouthatareflowingbysomanycurvesoflowshoreontheleveloftheworld。
Nowyouareoveragainsttheshadows，andnowoppositethesun，asthewheelingrivermakestheskywheelaboutyourheadandswingsthelightedcloudsorthebluetofaceyoureyes。Thebirds，flyinghighformountainairintheheat，wingnothingbuttheirownweight。Youwillnotenvythemforsobriefasuccess。DidnotWordsworthwanta\"littleboat\"fortheair？DidnotByroncallhimablockheadtherefor？Wordsworthhad，perhaps，asenseoftowing。
Alltheadvantageoftheexpertisnothinginthissimpleindustry。
Eventheathlete，thoughhemaygofurther，cannotdobetterthanyou，walkingyoureffectualwalkwiththelineattachedtoyourwillingsteps。Yourmoderatestrengthofamereeverydayphysicaleducationgivesyouthesufficientmasteryofthetowpath。
Ifyournaturalwalkisheavy，thereisspiritinthetackletogiveitlife，andifitisbuoyantitwillbemorebuoyantunderthebuoyantburden——theyieldingcheck——thaneverbefore。Anunharnessedwalkmustbegintoseemtoyouasorryincidentofinsignificantliberty。Itiseasierthantowing？Soisthedrawingofwaterinasieveeasiertothearmsthandrawinginabucket，butnottotheheart。
Towalkunboundistowalkinprose，withoutthefrictionofthewingsofmetre，withoutthesweetandencouragingtuguponthespiritandtheline。
Nodeadweightfollowsyouasyoutow。Theburdeniswilling；itdependsuponyougaily，asafriendmaydowithoutmakinganydepressingshowofhelplessness；neither，ontheotherhand，isitapttosetyouatnaughtorchargeyouwithamake-believe。Itaccompanies，italmostanticipates；itlagswhenyouarebrisk，justsomuchastogiveyourbrisknessgoodreason，andtojustifyyouifyoushouldtaketostillmorenimbleheels。Allyourhaste，moreover，doesbutwakenamorebrilliantly-soundingripple。
Theboundingandreboundingburdenyoucarry（butitnearlyseemstocarryyou，sofineisthemutualgoodwill）givesworktoyourfigure，enlistsyourerectnessandyourgait，butleavesyoureyesfree。Nowatchingofmechanismsforthelabourerofthetow-path。
Whatlittleoutlookistobekeptfallstothelotofthesteerersmoothlytowed。Youreasyandefficientworkletsyoucarryyourheadhighandwatchthebirds，orlistentothem。Theyflyinsuchloftyairthattheyseemtoturnblueinthebluesky。Aflashoftheirflightshowssilverforamoment，buttheyarebluebirdsinthatsunnydistanceabove，asmountainsareblue，andhorizons。Thedaysaresostillthatyoudonotmerelyhearthecawingoftherooks——youoverheartheirhundredprivatecroakingsandcreakings，thesoliloquyofthesolitaryplacessweptbywings。
Asforsongs，itisSeptember，andthesilenceofJulyislongatanend。Thisyear’srobinsareinfullvoice；andtheonlysongthatisnotforloveornesting——thechildishsongofboy-birds，thefreshestandyoungestnote——is，byahappyparadox，thatofanautumnalvoice。
Hereisnohoot，norhurryofengines，norwhisperofthecyclist’swheel，norfootuponaroad，toovercomethatlightbutresoundingnote。Silentarefeetonthegrassybrink，liketheinnocent，stealthysolesofthebarefootedinthesouth。
THETETHEREDCONSTELLATIONS
Itisnosmallthing——nolightdiscovery——tofindariverAndromedaandArcturusandtheirbrightneighbourswheelingforhalfasummernightaroundapole-starinthewaters。Onestarortwo——delicatevisitantsofstreams——weareusedtosee，somewhatbyasleightoftheeyes，sofineandsofleetingisthatapparition。Orthesouthernwavesmayshowthelight——nottheimage——oftheeveningorthemorningplanet。Butthis，inapoolofthecountryThamesatnight，isnoripple-lengthenedlight；itisthestartlingimageofawholelargeconstellationburningintheflood。
Thesereflectedheavensaredifferentheavens。Onadarkerandmorevacantfieldthanthatoftherealskies，theshapeoftheLyreortheBearhasanaltogethernewandnoblesolitude；andthewatersplayapainter’spartinsettingtheirsplendidsubjectfree。Twomovementsshakebutdonotscatterthestillnight：thebrightflashingofconstellationsinthedeepWeir-pool，andthedarkflashesofthevaguebatsflying。Thestarsinthestreamfluctuatewithanalienmotion。Reversed，estranged，isolated，everyshapeoflargestarsescapesandreturns，escapesandreturns。Fitfulinthesteadynight，thoseconstellations，sofew，sowhole，andsoremote，haveasuddennessofgleaminglife。Youimaginethatsomeunexampledgalemightmakethemseemtoshinewithsuchamovementintheveritablesky；yetnothingbutdeepwater，seemingstillinitsincessantflightandrebound，couldreallyshowsuchalteredstars。Thefloodletsaconstellationfly，asJuliet’s\"wanton\"
withatetheredbird，onlytopluckithomeagain。Atmomentssomerhythmicfluxofthewaterseemsabouttoleavethedarkly-set，widely-spacedBearabsolutelyatlarge，todismissthegreatstars，andrefusetoimitatetheskies，andallthewaterisobscure；thenonebrokenstarreturns，thenfragmentsofanother，andathirdandafourthflitbacktotheirnobleplaces，brilliantlyvague，wonderfullyvisible，mobile，andunalterable。Thereisnothingelseatoncesokeenandsoelusive。
Theaspenpoplarhadbeenincaptiveflightallday，butwithnosuchvanishingsasthese。Thedimmerconstellationsofthesoftnightarereservedbytheskies。Hardlyisasecondarystarseenbythelargeandvagueeyesofthestream。TheyareblindtothePleiades。
ThereisalittlekindofstarthatdrownsitselfbyhundredsintheriverThames——themany-rayedsilver-whiteseedthatmakesjourneysonallthewindsupanddownEnglandandacrossitintheendofsummer。Itisamostexperttraveller，turningalittlewheela-
tiptoewhereverthewindletsitrest，andspeedingonthoseprettypointswhenitisnotflying。ThestreetsofLondonareamongitsmanyhighways，foritisfragileenoughtogofarinallsortsofweather。Butitgetsdisabledifaroughgusttumblesitonthewatersothatitsfinely-featheredfeetarewet。Ongentlebreezesitisabletocrossdry-shod，walkingthewaters。
Allunlikeisthispilgrimstartothetetheredconstellations。Itisfaradrift。Itgoessinglytoallthewinds。Itoffersthistleplants（orwhateveristheflowerthatmakessuchdelicateashes）tothetopsofmanythousandhills。Doubtlessthefarmerwouldratherhavetomeetitinbattalionsthanintheseinvincibleunitsastray。
Butifthefarmerowesitalawfulgrudge，thereismanyarigidriversidegardenwhereinitwouldbeagreatpleasuretosowthethistlesofthenearestpasture。
RUSHESANDREEDS
Tallerthanthegrassandlowerthanthetrees，thereisanothergrowththatfeelstheimplicitspring。Ithadbeenmoreabandonedtowinterthaneventheshortgrassshudderingunderawaveofeastwind，morethanthedumbtrees。Forthemultitudesofsedges，rushes，canes，andreedsweretheappropriatelyreofthecold。Onthemthenimblewindsplayedtheirdrymusic。Theywerepartofthewinter。Itlookedthroughthemandspokethroughthem。Theywerespearsandjavelinsinarraytothesoundofthedrumsofthenorth。
Thewintertakesfullerpossessionofthesethingsthanofthosethatstandsolid。Thesedgeswhistlehistune。Theyletthecolourofhislightlookthrough——low-flyingarrowsandbrightbayonetsofwinterday。
Themultitudesofallreedsandrushesgrowoutofbounds。Theybelongtothemarginsoflands，thespacebetweenthefarmsandtheriver，beyondthepastures，andwherethemarshinflowerbecomesperilousfootingforthecattle。Theyarethefringeofthelowlands，thesignofstreams。Theygrowtallbetweenyouandthenearhorizonofflatlands。Theyetchtheirsharplinesuponthesky；
andnearthemgrowflowersofstature，includingtheloftyyellowlily。
Ourgreencountryisthebetterforthegrey，soft，cloudydarknessofthesedge，andourfulllandscapeisthebetterforthedistinctionofitspoints，itsneedles，anditsresoluterightlines。
Oursisasummerfullofvoices，andthereforeitdoesnotsoneedthesoundofrushes；buttheyaremostsensitivetothestealthybreezes，andbetraythepassingofawindthateventhetree-topsknewnotof。Sometimesitisabreezeunfelt，butthestiffsedgeswhisperitalongamileofmarsh。Tothestrongwindtheybend，showingthesilveroftheirsombrelittletasselsasfishshowthesilveroftheirsidesturninginthepathlesssea。Theyareunanimous。Afieldoftallflowerstossesmanywaysinonewarmgale，likethemanyloversofapoetwhohaveathousandreasonsfortheirlove；buttherushes，morestronglytethered，aresweptintoasingleattitude，againandagain，ateveryrenewalofthestorm。
Betweenthepastureandthewave，themanymilesofrushesandreedsinEnglandseemtoescapethatinsistentownershipwhichhassochanged（exceptforafewforestsanddowns）theaspectofEngland，andhasinfactmadethelandscape。Cultivationmakesthelandscapeelsewhere，ratherthanownership，fortheboundariesinthesoutharenotconspicuous；buthereitisownership。Buttherushesareagipsypeople，amongstus，yetoutofreach。Thelandowner，ifheisratheragrossman，believestheseracesofreedsarehis。Butifheisamanofsensibility，dependuponithehashisinteriordoubts。Hisproperty，hesays，goesrightdowntothecentreoftheearth，intheshapeofawedge；howhighupitgoesintotheairitwouldbedifficulttosay，andobviouslytheshapeofthewedgemustbecontinuedinthedirectionofincrease。Wemaythereforeproclaimhisrighttothecloudsandtheircargo。Itistruethatashisgroundgameisapttogouponhisneighbour’slandtobeshot，sothecloudsmaynowandthenspendhisshowerselsewhere。
Butthegreatthingistheview。Awell-appointedcountry-houseseesnothingoutofthewindowsthatisnotitsown。Buthewhotellsyouso，andprovesittoyoubyhisownview，iscertainlydisturbedbyanunspokendoubt，ifhisotherwisecontentedeyesshouldhappentobecaughtbyaregionofrushes。Thewaterishis——
hehadthepondmade；ortheriver，foraspace，andthefish，foratime。Butthebulrushes，thereeds！Onewonderswhetheraverythoroughlandowner，butasensitiveone，everresolvedthathewouldendurethissortofthingnolonger，andwentoutarmedandhadalongacreofsedgesscythedtodeath。
Theyareprobablyoutlaws。Theyaredwellersuponthresholdsanduponmargins，asthegipsiesmakeahomeuponthegreenedgesofaroad。Nowildflowers，howeverwild，arerebels。Thecopsesandtheirprimrosesaregoodsubjects，theoaksareloyal。Nowandthen，though，onehasakindofsuspicionofsomeoftheotherkindsoftrees——theCorottrees。Standingatadistancefromthemoreornamentaltrees，fromthoseoffullerfoliage，andfromalltheindeciduousshrubsandtheconifers（manifestproperty，everyone），twoorthreetranslucentaspens，withwhichtheverysunandthebreathofearthareentangled，havesometimesseemedtowearacertainlook——anextra-territoriallook，letuscallit。Theyaresuspect。Oneisinclinedtoshakeadoubtfulheadatthem。
Andthelandownerfeelsit。Heknowsquitewell，thoughhemaynotsayso，thattheCorottrees，thoughtheydonotdwelluponmargins，areinspiritalmostasextraterritorialastherushes。Inproofofthisheveryoftencutsthemdown，outoftheview，onceforall。
Theviewisbetter，asaview，withoutthem。Thoughtheirrootsareinhisgroundrightenough，thereisasomethingabouttheirheads——。Butthereasonhegivesforwishingthemawayismerelythattheyare\"thin。\"Amandoesnotalwayssayeverything。
ANORTHERNFANCY
\"Iremember，\"saidDryden，writingtoDennis，\"IrememberpoorNatLee，whowasthenuponthevergeofmadness，yetmadeasoberandwittyanswertoabadpoetwhotoldhim，’Itwasaneasythingtowritelikeamadman。’’No，’saidhe，’’tisaverydifficultthingtowritelikeamadman，but’tisaveryeasythingtowritelikeafool。’\"Nevertheless，thedifficultsongofdistractionistobeheard，alighthighnote，inEnglishpoetrythroughouttwocenturiesatleast，andoneEnglishpoetlatelysetthatuntetheredlyric，themadmaid’ssong，flyingagain。
Arevoltagainsttheoppressionofthelatesixteenthandearlyseventeenthcenturies——theageofthere-discoveryofdeath；againstthecrimeoftragedies；againstthetyrannyofItalianexamplethathadmadethepoetswalkinonewayoflove，scorn，constancy，inconstancy——mayhavecausedthistrollingofunconsciousness，thistuneofinnocence，andthiscarolofliberty，tobeheldsodear。
\"IheardamaidinBedlam，\"runstheoldsong。Highandlowthepoetstriedforthatnote，andthesingerwasnearlyalwaystobeamaidandcrazedforlove。ExceptforthetemporaryinsanitysoindifferentlywornbythesopranoofthenowdeceasedkindofItalianopera，andexceptthatarecentFrenchstoryplayswiththeflittingfigureofavillagegirlrobbedofherwitsbywoe（andthis，too，isaRussianvillager，andtheSouthernauthormayhavefoundhisstoryonthespot，asheseemstoaver）IhavenotmetelsewherethaninEnglandthissolitaryanddetachedpoetryofthetreblenoteastray。
Atleast，itisprincipallyanorthernfancy。WouldthesteadfastCordelia，ifshehadnotdied，haveliftedthelowvoicetothathighnote，sodelicatelyuntuned？Shewhowouldnotbeprodigalofwordsmightyet，indeed，havesunginthecage，andtoldoldtales，andlaughedatgildedbutterfliesofthecourtofcrimes，andlivedsolonginthestrangehealthofanemancipatedbrainastowearoutPacksandsectsofgreatonesThatebbandflowbythemoon。
She，ifKingLearhadhadhislastdesire，mighthavesungthemerryandstrangetuneofBedlam，liketheslighterOpheliaandthemaidcalledBarbara。
Itwassurelythenameofthemaidwhodiedsinging，asDesdemonaremembers，thatlingeredintheearofWordsworth。Ofallthesongsofthedistracted，writteninthesanityofhighimagination，thereisnothingmorepassionatethanthatbeginning\"’Tissaidthatsomehavediedforlove。\"ToonewhohasalwaysrecognizedthegreatnessofthispoemandwhopossiblyhadknownandforgottenhowmuchRuskinprizedit，itwasapleasuretofindthejudgementafreshinModernPainters，wherethisgravelyriciscitedforanexampleofgreatimagination。Itisthemourningandrestlesssongofthelover（\"theprettyBarbaradied\"）whohasnotyetbrokenfreefrommemoryintothealienworldoftheinsane。
Barbara’sloverdweltinthesceneofhislove，asDryden’sAdamentreatstheexpellingangelthathemightdo，protestingthathecouldenduretolose\"thebliss，butnottheplace。\"（Andalthoughthisdramatic\"ParadiseLost\"ofDryden’sishardlynamedbycriticsexcepttobescorned，thisisassuredlyafineandimaginativethought。）ItisneverthelessasawandererthatthecrazedcreaturevisitsthefancyofEnglishpoetswithsuchawildrecurrence。TheEnglishmanofthefarpast，barredbyclimate，badroads，ill-
lightedwinters，andtheintricatelifeandcustomsofthelittletown，musthavebeengenerallyahome-keeper。Noadventure，nosettingforth，andsmallliberty，forhim。ButTom-a-Bedlam，thewildmaninpatchesorinribbons，withhiswalletandhishornforalmsoffoodordrink，cameandwentasfitfullyasthestorm，freetosufferallthecold——anunshelteredcreature；andthechillfancyofthevillagerfollowedhimouttotheheathonajourneythathadnolaw。Wasitheinperson，orapoetforhim，thatmadetheswingingsong：\"Fromthehagandthehungrygoblin\"？Ifapoet，itwasonewhowrotelikeamadmanandnotlikeafool。
Notatown，notavillage，notasolitarycottageduringtheEnglishMiddleAgeswasunvisitedbyhimwhofrightenedthechildren；theyhadanameforhimasforthewildbirds——RobinRedbreast，DickySwallow，PhilipSparrow，TomTit，Tom-a-Bedlam。Andafterhimcamethe\"Abrammen，\"whoweresaneparodiesofthecrazed，andwenttothefairsandwakesinmotley。Evelynsaysofafop：\"Allhisbodywasdressedlikeamaypole，oraTom-a-Bedlam’scap。\"ButaftertheCivilWarstheyvanished，andnomanknewhow。Intimeoldmenrememberedthemonlytorememberthattheyhadnotseenanysuchcompaniesorsolitarywanderersoflateyears。
Themadmaidofthepoetsisavagranttoo，whensheisfree，andnotsingingwithinBedlamearlyinthemorning，\"inthespring。\"
Wordsworth，whodealtwiththelegendaryfancyinhis\"Ruth，\"makesthecrazedoneawandererinthehillswhomatravellermightseebychance，rareasanOread，andnearlyaswildasEchoherself：-
ItoohavepassedherinthehillsSettingherlittlewater-mills。
Hisheartmisgiveshimtothinkoftherheumatismthatmustbefallinsuchawayofliving；andhisgravesenseofcivilization，BOURGEOISinthehumaneandnoblewaythatishisown，restoresherafterdeathtothecompanyofman，tothe\"holybell，\"whichShakespeare’sDukerememberedinbanishment，andtothecongregationandtheir\"Christianpsalm。\"
Theolderpoetswerelessresponsible，lessseriousandmoresad，thanWordsworth，whentheyinturnweretouchedbythefancyofthemaidcrazedbylove。Theylefthertoherlightimmortality；andshemightbedrenchedindews；theywouldnotdesiretoreconcilenorburyher。Shemighthaveherhairtornbythebramble，butherheartwaslightaftertrouble。\"Manylightheartsandwings\"——shehadatleastthebird’sheart，andthepoetlenttohervoicethewingsofhisverses。
Thereisnothinginourpoetrylessmodernthanshe。ThevagrantwomanoflaterfeelingwasratherthesanecreatureofEbenezerElliott’sfinelinesin\"TheExcursion\"-
Bone-weary，many-childed，trouble-tried！
Wifeofmybosom，weddedtomysoul！
Troubledidnot\"try\"theElizabethanwildone，itundidher。Shehadnochild，oriftherehadeverbeenachildofhers，shehadlongforgottenhowitdied。Shehailedthewayfarer，whowasmorewearythanshe，withasong；shehauntedthecheerfuldawn；her\"good-morrow\"ringsfromHerrick’spoem，freshascock-crow。Sheknowsthatherloveisdead，andherperplexityhasregardrathertothemanykindsofflowersthantotheoldstoryofhisdeath；theydistractherinthesplendidmeadows。
Allthetragicworldpausedtohearthatlightestofsongs，asthetragedyofHamletpausesforthefitfulvoiceofOphelia。Strangewasthecharmofthisperpetualalien，andunknowntousnow。Theworldhasbecomeonceagainasitwasinthemadmaid’sheyday，lessseriousandmoresadthanWordsworth；butithasnotrecovered，andperhapswillneverrecover，thatsweetness。Blake’swasamorestarrymadness。Crabbe，writingofvillagesorrows，thoughthimselfboundtorecurtothelegendofthemadmaid，buthis\"crazedmaiden\"issaneenough，sorrowfulbutdull，andsingsofherown\"burningbrow，\"asHerrick’swildoneneversang；noristhereanysmileinherstory，thoughshetalksofflowers，or，rather，\"theherbsIlovedtorear\"；andperhapssheisthesurestofallsignsthatthestrangeinspirationofthepastcenturieswaslost，vanishedlikeTom-a-Bedlamhimself。IthadbeenwhollyEnglish，whereastheEnglisheighteenthcenturywasnotwhollyEnglish。
ItisnottobeimaginedthatanyhardSouthernmindcouldeverhaveplayedinpoetrywithsuchafancy；orthatPetrarch，forexample，couldsohaveforegonethemanifestationofintelligenceandintelligiblesentiment。AndastoDante，whoputthetwoeternitiesintothemomentarybalanceofthehumanwill，coldwouldbehisdisregardofthisnortherndreamofinnocence。Ifthemadmaidwasanalienuponearth，whatweresheintheInferno？Whatwordcanexpressherstrangenessthere，hervagrancythere？AndwithwhateyeswouldtheyseethisdewyfaceglancinginatthewindowsofthatCity？
PATHOS
Afugitivewriterwrotenotlongagoonthefugitivepageofamagazine：\"Forourpart，thedrunkentinker[ChristopherSly]isthemostrealpersonageofthepiece，andnotwithoutsomehintsofthepathosthatisworkedoutmorefully，thoughbydifferentways，inBottomandMalvolio。\"Hasitindeedcometothis？HavetheZeitgeistandtheWeltschmerzortheiryetlaterequivalents，comparedwithwhich\"lespleen\"oftheFrenchByronicagewasgay，donesomuchforus？Istheretobenolaughterleftinliteraturefreefromthepreoccupationofashamreal-life？Soitwouldseem。
Evenwhatthegreatmasterhasnotshownusinhiswork，thatyourcriticconvincedofpathosisresolvedtoseeinit。Bythepenetrationofhisintrusivesympathyhewillcomeatit。ItisoflittleusenowtoexplainSnugthejoinertotheaudience：why，itispreciselySnugwhostirstheiremotionssopainfully。Notthelion；theycanmakeshifttoseethroughthat：buttheSnugwithin，thehumanSnug。AndMasterShallowhastheWeltschmerzinthatlatentformwhichisthemoreappealing；anddiscouragingquestionsariseastotheendofoldDouble；andHarpagonisthetragicfigureofMonomania；andastoArgan，ah，whathavocin\"lesentraillesdeMonsieur\"musthavebeenwroughtbythoseprescriptions！Etpatati，etpatata。
Itmaybeonlytootruethattheactualworldis\"withpathosdelicatelyedged。\"ForMalvoliolivingweshouldhavehadlivingsympathies；somuchaspiration，soill-educatedaloveofrefinement；sounarmedacredulity，noblestofweaknesses，betrayedforthelaughterofachambermaid。ByanactualBottomtheweaverourpitymightbereachedforthesakeofhissingleself-reliance，hisfancyandresourcecondemnedtoburlesqueandignominybytheniggarddoomofcircumstance。Butisnotlifeonethingandisnotartanother？Isitnottheprivilegeofliteraturetotreatthingssingly，withouttheafter-thoughtsoflife，withoutthetroublouscompletenessofthemany-sidedworld？IsnotShakespeare，forthisreason，ourrefuge？Fortunatelyunrealishisworldwhenhewillhaveitso；andtherewemaylaughwithopenheartatagrotesqueman：withoutmisgiving，withoutremorse，withoutreluctance。IfgreatcreatingNaturehasnotassumedforherselfshehasassuredlysecuredtothegreatcreatingpoettherightofpartiality，oflimitation，ofsettingasideandleavingout，oftakingoneimpressionandoneemotionassufficientfortheday。ArtandNaturearecomplementary；inrelation，notinconfusion，withoneanother。Andallthisofficiousclevernessinseeingroundthecorner，asitwere，ofathingpresentedbyliteraryartintheflat——（theborrowingofsimilesfromotherartsisofeviltendency；
butletthispass，asitisapt）——isbutanothersignofthegenerallackofasenseoftheseparationbetweenNatureandhersentientmirrorinthemind。Insomeofhispersons，indeed，ShakespeareisasNatureherself，all-inclusive；butinothers——andchieflyincomedy——heispartial，heisimpressionary，herefusestoknowwhatisnottohispurpose，heislight-heartedlycapricious。Andinthatgay，wilfulworlditisthathegivesus——orusedtogiveus，foreventhewordisobsolete——thepleasureofOUBLIANCE。
NowthisfugitivewriterhasnotbeensoswiftbutthatIhavecaughthimacloutashewent。Yethewilldoitagain；andthoselike-mindedwillassuredlyalsocontinuetoshowhowmuchmorecompletelyhuman，howmuchmoresensitive，howmuchmoreresponsible，istheartofthecriticthantheworldhaseverdreamttillnow。And，superiorinsomuch，theywillstillcounttheirimportunatesensibilityasthechoicestoftheirgifts。AndLepidus，wholovestowonder，canhavenobettersubjectforhisadmirationthanthepathosofthetime。Itisbrednowofyourmudbytheoperationofyoursun。’Tisastrangeserpent；andthetearsofitarewet。
ANIMAPELLEGRINA！
Everylanguageintheworldhasitsownphrase，freshforthestranger’sfreshandaliensenseofitssignalsignificance；aphrasethatisitsownessentialpossession，andyetisdearertothespeakerofothertongues。Easily——shallIsaycheaply？——
spiritual，forexample，wasthenationthatdevisedthenameanimapellegrina，wherewithtocrownacreatureadmired。\"Pilgrimsoul\"
isaphraseforanylanguage，but\"pilgrimsoul！\"addressed，singlyandsweetlytoonewhocannotbeover-praised，\"pilgrim-soul！\"isaphraseoffondness，thehighhomageofalover，ofonewatching，ofonewhohasnomoreneedofcommonflatteries，buthasadmiredandgazedwhiletheobjectofhispraisesvisiblysurpassedthem——thisisthefacileItalianecstasy，anditrisesintoanItalianheaven。
Itwasbychance，andinanoldplay，thatIcameuponthisimpetuous，sudden，andsinglesentenceofadmiration，asitwereasentenceoflifepassedupononechargedwithinestimabledeeds；andthemoderneditorhadthoughtitnecessarytoexplaintheexclamationbyanote。Itwas，hesaid，poetical。
AnimapellegrinaseemstobeItalianofnolaterdatethanPergolese’sairs，andsuitsthetimeasthefamiliarphraseofthemoremodernlove-songsuitedthedayofBellini。ButitisonlyItalian，bygoneItalian，andnotapartofthesweetpastofanyotherEuropeannation，butonlyofthis。
Tothesamelocalboundariesandenclosedskiesbelongsthecharmofthosebuoyantwords：-
Felicechivimira，Mapiufelicechipervoisospira！
Anditisnotonlyacharmofelasticsoundorofgrace；thatwouldbebutapropertyoftheturnofspeech。Itisrathertheprofounderadvantagewherebytherhymesarefreightedwithsuchfeelingastheverylanguagekeepsinstore。Inanothertongueyoumaysing，\"happywholooks，happierwhosighs\"；butinwhatothertongueshallthelittlemeaningbesosufficient，andinwhatothershallyougetfromsoweakanantithesistheillusionofalovelyintellectualepigram？YetitisnotworthyofanEnglishreadertocallitanillusion；heshouldratherbegladtotravelintotheplaceofalanguagewherethephraseISintellectual，impassioned，andanepigram；andshouldthankfullyfortheoccasiontranslatehimself，andnotthepoetry。
IhavebeendelightedtouseapresentcurrentphrasewhereofthecharmmaystillbeunknowntoEnglishmen——\"piuttostobruttini。\"Seewhatanall-Italianspiritishere，andwhatcontempt，notreluctant，buttolerantandfamiliar。Youmayhearitsaidofpictures，orworksofartofseveralkinds，andyouconfessatoncethatnototherwiseshouldtheybecondemned。BRUTTO——ugly——isthewordofjustice，thewordforanylanguage，everywheretranslatable，acircularnote，tobeexchangedinternationallywithageneralmeaning，wholesale，inthecourseoftheEuropeanconcert。ButBRUTTINOisasoothingdiminutive，adiminutivethatforbearstoexpresscontempt，adiminutivethatimpliesinnocence，andis，moreover，guardedbyahesitatingadverb，shruggingintherear——