inted
letter, or other document, and place it in the breast-pocket of a faded
and much-worn scarlet soldier's coat, put over the shirt which
enveloped the body. The flowers were then hastily replaced, the hands
and the peak of the handsome nose remaining visible among them; the
wind ruffled the fair hair a little; the lips were still red. I shall
not forget it. The lid was then placed on the coffin and screwed down
in my presence. There was no plate or other inscription upon it.

NOTES

197. *Published in the New Review, June and July 1892, and now
reprinted by the kind permission of the proprietors.

210. +Transliteration: askesis. Liddel and Scott definition:
"exercise, training."

213. +Transliteration: Moirai. Liddel and Scott definition: "[singular
=] one's portion in life, lot, destiny."

213. +Transliteration: Ker. Brief Liddel and Scott definition: "doom,
death, destruction."

214. +Translation: "in this church established for boys."

219. +Transliteration: he pterou dynamis.

DIAPHANEITE

[247] THERE are some unworldly types of character which the world is
able to estimate. It recognises certain moral types, or categories,
and regards whatever falls within them as having a right to exist. The
saint, the artist, even the speculative thinker, out of the world's
order as they are, yet work, so far as they work at all, in and by
means of the main current of the world's energy. Often it gives them
late, or scanty, or mistaken acknowledgment; still it has room for them
in its scheme of life, a place made ready for them in its affections.
It is also patient of doctrinaires of every degree of littleness. As
if dimly conscious of some great sickness and weariness of heart in
itself, it turns readily to those who theorise about its unsoundness.
To constitute one of these categories, or types, a breadth and
generality of character is required. There is another type of
character, which is not broad and general, rare, precious above all to
the artist, a character which seems to have been the supreme moral
charm in the Beatrice of the [248] Commedia. It does not take the eye
by breadth of colour; rather it is that fine edge of light, where the
elements of our moral nature refine themselves to the burning point.
It crosses rather than follows the main current of the world's life.
The world has no sense fine enough for those evanescent shades, which
fill up the blanks between contrasted types of char