of it. There is another calm shaped
like a great river, which is all green, touched with crimson.
Besides these there are delicate half calms, just dulled over with
faint breathings of the evening air; these, for the most part being
violet (from the sky), except at a distance, where they take a deep
crimson; and there is one piece of crimson calm near me set between
a faint violet breeze and a calm of a different violet. There are
one or two breezes sufficiently strong to cause ripple, and these
rippled spaces take the dull grey slate of the upper sky.

Realise this picture as well as you may be able, and then put in
the final touch. Between the dull calms and the glassy calms there
are drawn thin threads of division burning with scarlet fire.

This fire is of course got from the lower sky. I know whence it
comes, but how or why it lies in those thin scarlet threads there
where it is most wanted, and not elsewhere, I cannot satisfactorily
explain.

Then there was a delightful and illuminating chapter called "A Stream at
Rest." Hamerton, who is probably now very much out of fashion, taught me
the necessity of beauty in life; and, as an accessory to Emerson, the
philosophy of enjoying the little, every-day things. It was Emerson who,
I think, said first to me, "Take short outlooks"; and I still think that
there can be no better introduction to a consideration of the relation
of art to nature than "A Painter's Camp." It was "A Painter's Camp"
which led me to "The Intellectual Life." There is a particular passage
in Hamerton's chapter on "A Little French City" that emphasized the need
of beauty.

The cathedral is all poetry; I mean that every part of it affects
our emotional nature either by its own grandeur or beauty, or by
its allusion to histories of bright virtue or brave fortitude. And
this emotional result is independent of belief in the historical
truth of these great legends: it would be stronger, no doubt, if we
believed them, but we are still capable of feeling their solemn
poetry and large significance as we feel the poetry and
significance of "Sir Galahad" or "The Idylls of the King."

Some persons are so constituted that it is necessary to their
happiness to live near some noble work of art or nature. A mountain
is satisfactory to them because it is great and ever new,
pres