skies; he is very near being a mere
thing of eyes and ears. Yet not wholly; for he perceives not only the
colour and movement of the waves, but their sound, their briny scent;
he perceives not only the green and tawny tints of leaves and moss, he
hears the crackling of the brushwood, the rustling of the boughs, the
confused hum of bees, the faint murmur of waters; nay, in the waves and
in the woods he perceives something more, vague resemblances to other
things; vague expressions of mood and feeling which, when the waters
rush in, make his heart leap; when the grey light steals in among the
branches, sends a sadness throughout him. Nay, in this artist, in this
simplest, least human sort of poet, there remains yet an infinite amount
of the human individuality, of its passions and desires. Let us tear
away, throw aside this last amount of human feeling, reduce our typical
artist to mere intense powers of seeing. Shall we still have wherewith
to obtain any work at all? will this rarified, simplified mentality be
much above a mere feelingless optic machine? Let us see. Here we have a
creature out of which we have removed as much as possible of all human
qualities: a creature which can perceive with infinite keenness and
reproduce with the most perfect exactitude, every little subtle line
and tint and shadow which escapes other men; a creature whose delicate
perception vibrates with delight at every harmonious combination, and
writhes, as if it would shatter to atoms, at every displeasing mixture
of lines or colours. A living and most sensitive organism which feels,
thinks everything as form and colour, fostered with the utmost care by
other such organisms, themselves nurtured into intensity more intense
than that with which they were born; for ever put in contact with the
visual objects which are, let us remember, the air it breathes, the food
it assimilates until this visual organism becomes beyond compare perfect
in its power of perceiving and reproducing. Then, imagine this abstract
being, this quivering thing of sight, placed in the midst of a country
of austere, delicate lines, and solemn yet diaphanous tints; among
the undulating fields and oakwoods, beneath the pearly sky of Umbria;
imagine that before it are placed, as the creatures most precious and
lovely, the creatures whose likeness must for ever be copied in all its
intensity, youths, young women, old men, delicate and emaciate with
solitude and maceration, with