{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_27213/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_27213","id":"gutenberg_27213","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/27213","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Environmental Issues","Category: Nature/Gardening/Animals","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Himalaya Mountains -- Description and travel","Natural history -- Himalaya Mountains","Nature (Aesthetics)"],"text":"Produced by Ruth Hart\n\n\n\n\n[Note:  for this online edition I have moved the Table of Contents to\nthe beginning of the text and added three asterisks to mark breaks\nbetween sections.  I have also made the following spelling\nchanges:  latitute to latitude and mountain ash berberis to mountain\nash berberries]\n\n\n\nTHE HEART OF NATURE\n\nOR\n\nTHE QUEST FOR NATURAL BEAUTY\n\n\nBY SIR FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND\nK.C.S.I., K.C.I.E.\nPRESIDENT OF THE ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY\nAUTHOR OF \"THE HEART OF A CONTINENT\"\n\n\nLONDON\nJOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET\n1921\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\nPreface ix-x\nIntroduction xv-xxviii\n\nPART I\n\nChapter I. The Sikkim Himalaya.  The sacred Ganges--A beneficent\npower--Beauty of the plains--First sight of the Himalaya 3-12\n\nChapter II. The Teesta Valley.  Mystery of the forest--The gorges\n--Sequestered glens 13-19\n\nChapter III. The Forest.  Butterflies--Ferns--Orchids--Flower\nfriends--Rhododendrons--Temperate vegetation--Primulas--Artic\nvegetation--The range of vegetation 20-37\n\nChapter IV. The Denizens of the Forest.  Butterflies--Moths--Birds\n--Reptiles--Mammals--Animal beauty--Primitive man--Higher races\n38-54\n\nChapter V. The Sum Impression.  Two views of Nature--Variety of\nlife--Intensity of life--The battle of life--Adaptation and selection\n--Purposiveness--Purposeful structures--Interdependence--Organising\nActivity--Gradation--Care of offspring--the Activity not mechanical\nbut Spiritual--Nature's end--a Common aspiration 55-85\n\nChapter VI. Kinchinjunga.  The foothills--Darjiling--A vision of the\nmountain--Full view--Mountain grandeur--Dawn on the mountain\n--Sunset on the mountain 86-99\n\nChapter VII. High Solitudes.  Kashmir--Barren mountains--Dazzling\npeaks--Purity of beauty 100-108\n\nChapter VIII. The Heavens.  Desert sunsets--Tibetan sunsets--The\nstars--The whole universe our home--A Heavenly Presence 109-120\n\nChapter IX. Home Beauty.  One's own country--Woman's beauty\n--Love and beauty--Their Divine Source--Wedding--Divine union\n--The Inmost Heart of Nature 121-134\n\nChapter X. The Nature of Nature.  A spiritual background--Purpose\nin Nature--Higher beings--No confining plan--Immanent Spirit\n--Collective personality--England a Person--Nature a Person--Moved\nby an ideal--The ideal in plants--The ideal in animals--The ideal in\nthe world 135-160\n\nChapter XI. Nature's Ideal.  Battling with physical Nature--Battling\nwith man--In tune with Nature--At the heart of the Universe is\nLove--Divine fellowship is Nature's Ideal 161-171\n\nChapter XII. The Heart of Nature.  Picturing the Ideal--The Ideal\nMan--Man and woman--Perfecting the Ideal--Discipline necessary\n--Leadership--Nature's method--Our own responsibility--The\nlovability of nature--God at the Heart of Nature 172-192\n\nPART II\n\nNatural Beauty and Geography\n\nPresidential Address to the Royal Geographical Society 195-216\n\nAn Address to the Union Society of University College, London\n217-235\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\nThe value of Knowledge and Character is duly impressed upon us.\nOf the value of Freedom we are told so much that we have come to\nregard it as an end in itself instead of only a means, or necessary\ncondition. But Beauty we are half-inclined to connect with the\neffeminate. Poetry, Music, and Literature are under suspicion with\nthe average English schoolboy, whose love of manliness he will\nshare with nothing else. Yet love of Beauty persists in spite of all\ndiscouragement, and will not be suppressed. Natural Beauty,\nespecially, insists on a place in our affections, derived originally\nfrom Love, and essentially and inseparably connected with it,\nNatural Beauty acknowledges supremacy to Love alone. And it\ndeserves our generous recognition, for it is wholesome and\nrefreshing for our souls.\n\nThe acute observation and telling description of Natural Beauty is at\nleast as necessary for the enjoyment of life as the pursuit of Natural\nScience to which so much attention is paid. For the concern of the\nformer is the character, and of the latter only the cause of natural\nphenomena; and of the two, character is the more important. It is,\nindeed, high time that we Englishmen were more awake than we are\nto the value of Natural Beauty. For we are born lovers of Nature,\nand no more poetic race than ourselves exists. Our country at its best,\non an early summer day, is the loveliest little home in all the world.\nAnd we go out from this island home of ours to every land. We have\nunrivalled opportunities, therefore, of seeing innumerable types of\nnatural objects. By observing Nature in so many different aspects,\nand by comparing our impressions with one another, we ought to\nunderstand Nature better than any other race. And by entering more\nreadily into communion with her we, better than others, should\nrealise the Beauty she possesses.\n\nI am conscious of having myself made most inadequate use of the\nsplendid opportunities my travels afforded me of seeing the Beauty\nof Nature. So I am all the more anxious that those following after\nme should not, by like omission, commit the same sin against\nthemselves and against our country. We owe it to ourselves and to\nmankind to give full rein to our instinctive love of Natural Beauty,\nand to train and refine every inclination and capacity we have for\nappreciating it till we are able to see all those finer glories of which\nwe now discern only the first faint glow.\n\nAnd if any other country excel us in appreciation, then it behoves us\nto brace ourselves up to emulate and surpass that country, and learn\nhow to understand Nature better and see more Beauty. For in love of\nNatural Beauty, and in capacity for communicating that love,\nEngland ought to be preeminent. She above every other country\nshould come nearest to the Heart of Nature.\n\n     F. E. Y.\n_June,_ 1921.\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\nTown children let loose in a meadow dash with shouts of joy to\npluck the nearest flowers. They ravenously pick handfuls and\narmfuls as if they could never have enough. They are exactly like\nanimals in the desert rushing to water. They are satisfying a great\nthirst in their souls--the thirst for Beauty. Some of us remember, too,\nour first sight of snowy mountains in the Alps or in the Himalaya.\nWe recall how our spirits _leaped_ to meet the mountains, how we\ngasped in wonder and greedily feasted our eyes on the glorious\nspectacle. In such cases as these there is something in the natural\nobject that appeals to something in us. Something in us rushes out to\nmeet the something in the natural object. A responsive chord is\nstruck. A relationship is established. We and the natural object come\ninto harmony with one another. We have recognised in the flower,\nthe mountain, the landscape, something that is the same as what is in\nourselves. We fall in love with the natural object. A marriage takes\nplace. Our soul is wedded to the soul of the natural object. And at\nthe very moment of wedding Beauty is born. It springs from Love,\njust as Love itself originally sprang from the wedding of primitive\nman and woman.\n\nIn this process all will depend upon the mood. If we are not in the\nmood for it, we are unreceptive of Nature's impressions, and we are\nirresponsive. We do not come into touch with Nature. Consequently\nwe see no Beauty. But if we are in a sensitive and receptive mood, if\nour minds are not preoccupied, and if our soul is open to the\nimpressions which Nature is ever raining on it, then we respond to\nNature's appeal. We feel ourselves in tune with her. We come into\ncommunion with her, and we see Beauty.\n\nIf we are ourselves feeling sad and sorrowful when we look out on\nNature, and there all should happen to be bright and gay, we shall\nfeel out of harmony with Nature, we shall not feel in touch with her,\nand we shall not see Beauty.\n\nOn the other hand, when we are in a glad and overflowing mood we\nshall be extraordinarily responsive to Nature's appeal, and see\nBeauty in a rugged, leafless oak tree or a poor old woman at the\ncorner of some mean street. And if when we are in such a mood\nNature happens to be at her best and brightest, as on some spring\nmorning, the Beauty we shall then see will be overpowering, and we\nshall scarcely be able to contain ourselves for ecstasy of joy.\n\nWe shall have discovered an identity between what is in Nature and\nwhat is in us. In looking on Nature, we shall have been introduced\ninto a Presence, greater than ourselves but like ourselves, which stirs\nin us this which we feel. When we see Beauty in Nature we are\ndiscovering that Nature is not merely a body, but _has_ or _is_ a\nsoul. And the joy we feel is produced by the satisfaction our soul\nfeels in coming into touch and harmony with this soul of Nature.\nOur soul is recognising samenesses between what is in it and what is\nin the soul of Nature, and feels joy in the recognition.\n\nAnd the instinct of fellowship with our kind impels us to\ncommunicate to others what we ourselves have felt. We want to tell\nothers what we have seen and what we have experienced.\n\nWe long, too, to share the joy which others also must have felt in\ncontemplating Nature. We want especially to know and feel what\nthose with far more sensitive souls than our own--the great poets,\npainters, and musicians--have felt. So we communicate our feelings\nto others; and we communicate with others, either personally or\nthrough their books or pictures or music, so that we may find out\nfrom them what more to look for, and may know better how to look\nfor it. By so doing, our souls become more sensitive to the\nimpressions of Nature, and we are better able to express those\nimpressions. Our power of vision increases. Our soul's eye acquires\na keener insight and sees deeper into the soul of Nature. We are able\nto enter more into the spirit of Nature, and the spirit of Nature is able\nto enter more into us. We arrive at a completer understanding\nbetween ourselves and Nature, are more in harmony with her, and\nconsequently see more Beauty.\n\nWe see, indeed, what Nature really is. We see the reality behind the\nappearance--the content within the outward form. We are not for the\nmoment concerned with the _cause_ but with the _character_ of\nNature. We see the \"I\" behind the outward manifestation and\nrepresentation. And if we have sympathy and understanding enough\nand are able truly to enter into the soul of Nature, we shall see the\nreal \"I\" behind the common everyday \"I\"--just as the few who\nintimately know some great man see the real man behind the man\nwho appears in the public eye--the real Beaconsfield or Kitchener\nbehind the Beaconsfield or Kitchener of the daily press. And, as we\nsee more of this real \"I\" in Nature and are better able to get in touch\nand harmony with her, so shall we see greater Beauty in Nature.\n\nIf we have petty, meagre souls we shall find little in common with\nthe great soul of Nature, and consequently see only shallow Beauty.\nIf we have great souls we shall have more in common and see more\nBeauty. But to arrive at a full understanding of the real Nature we\nmust observe her from every point of view and see her in all her\naspects. Only so shall we be able to understand her real self and see\nher full Beauty. And her aspects and the points of view from which\nwe may observe them change so incessantly that the greatest of us\nfalters. The more we see of Nature, the more we find there is to\nunderstand. And the more we understand Nature and commune with\nher, the more Beauty do we find there is to see. So to arrive at a\ncomplete understanding of Nature and see all her Beauty is beyond\nthe capacity of us finite men.\n\nYet we are impelled to go on striving to see all we can. And in the\nfollowing pages an attempt is made to show how, more Beauty in\nNature may be discovered.\n\nOften in the Himalaya I have watched an eagle circling overhead. I\nhave sat on the mountain-side and watched it sail majestically along\nin graceful curves and circles, and with perfect ease and poise. Far\nabove the earth it would range, and seemingly without exertion glide\neasily over tracts that we poor men could only enter by prodigious\neffort. Captivated by its grace of motion, and jealous of its freedom,\nI would for hours watch it. And this eagle I knew, from the height\nand distance from which it would swoop down on its prey, to be\npossessed of eyesight of unrivalled keenness in addition to its\ncapacity for movement.\n\nSo this bird had opportunities such as no human being--not even an\nairman--has of seeing the earth and what is on it. At will it could\nglide over the loftiest mountain ranges. At will it could sail above\nthe loveliest valleys. At will it could perch upon any chosen point\nand observe things at close range. In a single day this one eagle\nmight have seen the finest natural scenery in the world--the highest\nmountain, the most varied forest, thickly populated plains and bare,\nopen plains, peoples, animals, birds, insects, trees, flowers, all of the\nmost varied description. In one day, and in the ordinary course of its\ncustomary circlings and sailings, it might have seen what men come\nfrom the ends of the Earth to view, and are content if they see only a\nhundredth part of what the eagle sees every day.\n\nFrom its mountain eerie in Upper Sikkim it might have seen the rose\nof dawn flushing the snowy summits of Kinchinjunga, and far away\nMount Everest. And soaring aloft, the eagle might have looked out\nover the populous plains of India and seen, like silver streaks, the\nrivers flowing down from the Himalaya to join in the far distance\nthe mighty Mother Ganges. Then its eye might have ranged over the\nvast forest which clothes in dense green mantle the plain at the foot\nof the mountains from Nepal to Bhutan and Assam, and from the\nplain spreads up on the mountain-sides themselves and reaches to\nthe very borders of eternal snow. Over this vast forest with its\ntreasures of tree and plant, animal and insect life, tropical, temperate,\nand alpine, the eagle might have soared; and then, passing over the\nHimalayan watershed, have looked down upon the treeless, open,\nundulating, almost uninhabited plain of Tibet, and in the distance\nseen the great Brahmaputra River, which, circling round Bhutan,\ncuts clean through the Himalaya and, turning westward, also joins\nthe Ganges.\n\nIn the whole world no more wonderful natural scenery is to be found.\nAnd the eagle with no unusual effort could see it all in a single day,\nand see it with a distinctness of sight no man could equal. But keen\nthough its eyesight was and wide though its range, the eagle in all\nthat beautiful region would see not a single beauty. Neither in the\nsunrise, nor in the snowy mountains, nor in the luxuriant tropical\nforest, nor in the flowers, the birds, the butterflies, nor in the people\nand animals, nor in the cataracts and precipices would it see any\nbeauty whatever. The mountain would be to it a mere outline, the\nforests a patch of green, the rivers streaks of white, the animals just\npossible items of food. The eagle would see much, but it would see\nno beauty.\n\nPerhaps we shall understand why it is that the eagle with these\nunbounded opportunities sees no beauty if we consider the case of a\nlittle midge buzzing round a man's body. The midge is roughly in\nabout the same relation to the body of a man that the eagle is to the\nbody of the Earth. The midge in its hoverings sees vast tracts of the\nhuman body; sees the features--the nose, the eye, the mouth; sees the\ntrunk and the limbs and the head. But even in the most beautiful of\nmen it would see no beauty. And it would see no beauty because it\nwould have no soul to understand expression. It might be hovering\nround the features of a man when the smile on his lips and the\nexaltation in his eyes were expressive of the highest ecstasy of soul,\nbut the midge would see no beauty in those features because it had\nnot the soul to enter into the soul of the man and understand the\nexpression on his face. All the little shades and gradations and tones\nand lights in the features of the man would be quite meaningless to\nthe midge because it would know nothing of the man's soul, of\nwhich the features and the changes and variations in them were the\noutward manifestation. The midge would know nothing of the\nreality of the man which lay hidden behind the appearance.\n\nIt is the same with the eagle in respect to natural features as it is with\nthe midge in respect to the features of the man. The eagle sees only\nthe bare outward appearance of Nature, and sees no meaning in her\nfeatures. It has no soul to enter into the soul of Nature and\nunderstand what the natural features are expressing. The delicate\nlights and shades and changes on the face of Nature have no\nmeaning for it. It sees the bare appearance. It sees nothing of the\nreality behind the appearance. It has no soul to wed to the soul of\nNature. It therefore sees no beauty.\n\nBut now supposing that among all the midges that buzz about a man\nthere happened to be an artist-midge with exceeding sensitiveness of\nsoul, one which was able to recognise a fundamental identity of life\nbetween it and the man, one which was able to recognise\nsamenesses of feelings and emotions and aspirations, and by\nrecognition of the samenesses between it and the man enter into the\nvery life and soul of the man, then that midge would be able to\nunderstand all the varying expressions on the face of the man, and\nby understanding those expressions see their beauty.\n\nWe cannot expect an eagle in a similar way to have that\nsensitiveness of soul which would enable it to enter into the soul of\nNature, understand Nature, and so see its Beauty. But what we\ncannot expect of the eagle we can expect of man. We can expect an\nArtist to appear who will be to the Earth what the artist-midge was\nto the man.\n\nMan does to some extent enter into the soul of Nature. He has\n_some_ understanding of Nature. He sees Beauty; and whenever he\nsees Beauty in Nature he is in touch with the soul of Nature. Even\nordinary men see some of the Beauty of Nature and have some\nfeeling of kinship with her. They have something in common\nbetween their soul and the soul of Nature. They have the sense of\nmore in common between them and Nature than a midge has\nbetween it and a man.\n\nAnd in a delicately sensitive man such as an artist--painter, poet, or\nmusician--this sense of kinship with Nature is highly developed. In\nregard to his relationship with Nature he is like the finely sensitive\nand cultured artist-midge would be in regard to a man--the midge\nwho, through understanding the inner soul and character of the man,\nwas able to read the expression on his features and see their beauty.\n\nWhat we ordinary men have to do, and what we especially want\nthose gifted with unusually sensitive souls to do, is to bear in mind\nthe difficulties which the midge has in understanding us and in\nseeing any beauty in us, and the way in which it would have to train\nand cultivate its faculties before it could ever hope to understand the\nexpression on our features--to bear this in mind, and then to take\nourselves in hand and develop the soul within us till it is fine enough\nand great enough to enter into the great soul of Nature.\n\nThe sense of Beauty we all possess in some slight degree is in itself\na proof that behind the outward appearance of Nature there is a\nspiritual reality--an \"I\"--just as behind the outward appearance of the\nman which the artist-midge sees there is the \"I\" of the man. And by\ncultivating this sense--that is, by training and developing our\ncapacity to see deeper into the heart of Nature, see more significance\nand meaning in each shade and change of her features, and read\nmore understandingly what is going on deep within her soul--we\nshall enable ourselves to see a fuller and richer Natural Beauty.\n\nSo we look forward to the appearance among us of a great Artist\nwho, born with an exceptionally sensitive soul, will deliberately\nheighten and intensify this sensitiveness, learn what others have\nexperienced, compare notes with them, and train himself to detect\nthe significance of every slightest indication which Nature gives of\nthe workings of the soul within her; and then, recognising the\nsameness between his own feelings and the feelings of Nature, will\nfall deeply in love with her, give himself up utterly to her, marry her,\nand in their marriage give birth to Beauty of surpassing richness and\nintensity.\n\nWhat we await, then, is an Artist with a soul worthy of being\nwedded to Nature. Puny, shallow artists will not be able to see much\nmore of Nature than a midge sees of a man. What we want is a man\nwith the physique, the abounding health and spirits, the fine intellect,\nthe poetic power and imagination, the love of animals and his\nfellow-men, the skill, fitness, and gay courage of a Julian Grenfell.\nWe want a man with the opportunities he had of mixing from\nchildhood in London and in country houses with every grade and\ncondition of men, with statesmen, soldiers, men of art, hunting men,\nracing men, schoolboys, undergraduates, literary men, gamekeepers,\nold family retainers--every kind and sort of human being. We want a\nman of such qualifications combined with the qualifications of a\nDarwin--with his love of natural history, his power of close and\naccurate observation, his genius for drawing right inferences from\nwhat he observed, his wide knowledge of Nature in her many\nmanifestations, his sympathetic touch with every plant and animal,\nand his warm, affectionate nature in all human intercourse.\n\nWe want, in fact, a Naturalist-Artist--a combination of Julian\nGrenfell and Darwin. And this is no outrageously impossible, but a\nvery likely and fitting combination. For Julian Grenfell wrote great\npoetry even in the trenches in Flanders between the two battles of\nYpres. And with his love of country life, shooting, fishing, and\nhunting, his inclination might very easily have been directed\ntowards natural history. If it had been and the opportunity had\noffered, we might have had the very type of Naturalist-Artist we are\nnow awaiting. He would have had the physical fitness and capacity\nto endure hardships which are required for travel in parts of the\nEarth where the Natural Beauty is finest, and he would have had, too,\nthe sensitiveness of soul to receive impressions and the power of\nexpressing himself so that others might share with him the\nimpressions he had felt. If after passing through the earlier stages of\nshooting and hunting birds and animals he had come to the more\nprofitable stage of observing them, and had devoted to the\nobservation of their habits and ways of life the same skill and\nacumen which he had shown in hunting them, he might, with his\ninnate and genuine love of animals, very well have become a great\nnaturalist as well as what he was--a great sportsman and a writer of\ngreat poetry.\n\nIt is for the advent of such Naturalist-Artist that we wait. But we\nhave to prepare the way for him and do our share in helping to\nproduce him. And this will now be my endeavour, for it so happens\nthat I have been blessed with opportunities--some of my own\nmaking, some provided for me--of seeing Nature on a larger scale\nand under more varied aspects than falls to the lot of most men. I am\nashamed when I reflect how little use I have made of those\nopportunities--how little I was prepared and trained to make the\nmost of them. But this at least I can do: I can point out to the coming\nArtist those parts of the world where he is likely to see the Beauty of\nNature most fully, and in greatest variety.\n\nWith this end in view I shall begin with the Sikkim Himalaya, over\nwhich the eagle flew, because it contains within a small area a\nveritable compendium of Nature. Rising directly out of the plains of\nIndia, practically within the tropics, these mountains rise far above\nthe limits of perpetual snow. Their base is covered with luxuriant\nvegetation of a truly tropical character, and this vegetation extends\nthrough all the ranges from tropical to temperate and arctic. The\nanimal, bird, and insect life does the same. And here also are to be\nfound representative men of every clime. Similarly does the natural\nscenery vary from plain to highest mountain. There are roaring\ntorrents and wide, placid rivers. The Sikkim Himalaya, looking\ndown on the plains of India on the one side and the steppes of Tibet\non the other, is the most suitable place I know for a study of Natural\nBeauty.\n\nBut there are beauties in Kashmir and in the great Karakoram\nMountains behind Kashmir which are not found in Sikkim. And\nthere are beauties in the Desert which are not found in either Sikkim\nor Kashmir. So I must take the Artist to these regions also.\n\nAnd I choose Sikkim and Kashmir because these are easily\naccessible regions to which men with a thirst for Beauty can return\nagain and again, till they are saturated with the atmosphere and have\nimbibed the true spirit of the region--till they have realised how\nmuch these natural features express sentiments which they, too, are\nwanting to express--their aspirations for the highest and purest, their\nlonging for repose, their delight in warmth and affection, or\nwhatever their sentiment might be. Thousands of Englishmen,\ncultured Indians, and travellers from all over the world, visit the\nHimalaya every year--some for sport, some for health, some for\nsocial enjoyment. Amongst these may be our Naturalist-Artist who\nyear after year, drawn to Sikkim and Kashmir by his love of Natural\nBeauty, would learn to know Nature in the wonderfully varied\naspects under which she is to be seen in those favoured regions, who\nwould come into ever-deepening communion with her, would yearly\nsee more Beauty in her, and would communicate to us the\nenjoyment he had felt.\n\nBut Natural Beauty includes within its scope a great deal more than\nonly natural scenery. It includes the beauty of all natural\nobjects--men and women as well as mountains, animals, and plants. So these\nalso the Artist will have to keep within his purview. And his love of\nNature, and consequently his capacity for seeing Natural Beauty,\nwill be all the surer if he uses his head as well as his heart in\nforming his final conception of her--that is to say, his final for the\nmoment, as no man ever has or _can_ come to a literally final\nconception of Nature. So the Artist will pause now and then to test\nhis view of Nature in the light of pure reason. For he will be well\nenough aware that neither Love nor Beauty can be perfect unless it\nbe irradiated with Truth, and the three he will ever strive to keep\ntogether.\n\n\n\nPART I\n\nTHE HEART OF NATURE\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nTHE SIKKIM HIMALAYA\n\nThe Sikkim Himalaya is a region first brought prominently into\nnotice by the writings of Sir Joseph Hooker, the great naturalist, who\nvisited it in 1848. It lies immediately to the east of Nepal, and can\nnow be reached by a railway which ascends the outer range to\nDarjiling. It is drained by the Teesta River, up the main valley of\nwhich a railway runs for a short distance. The region is therefore\neasily accessible. For the purposes of this book it may be taken to\ninclude the flat open forest and grass-covered tract known as the\nTerai, immediately at the base of the mountain. This is only a few\nhundreds of feet above sea-level, so that from there to the summit of\nthe Himalaya there is a rise of nearly 28,000 feet in about seventy\nmiles. The lower part is in the 26th degree of latitude, so that the\nheat is tropical. And as the region comes within the sweep of the\nmonsoon from the Bay of Bengal, there is not only great heat in the\nplains and lower valleys, but great moisture as well. The\nmountain-sides are in consequence clothed with a luxuriant vegetation.\n\nTo enter this wonderful region the traveller has first to cross the\nGanges--the sacred river of the Hindus. Great rivers have about\nthem a fascination all their own. They produce in us a sense of\neverlastingness and irresistibility. The Ganges, more than a mile\nwide, comes sweeping along in deep majestic flood from the far\ndistance to the far distance, on and on unendingly, from all time to\nall time, and in such depth and volume that nothing human can\nwithstand it. In the dry season, when it is low and the sun is shining,\nit is placid and benign with a bright and smiling countenance.\nStately temples, set amidst sacred groves and graceful palms, lighten\nthe banks. On the broad steps of the bathing ghats are assembled\ncrowds of pious worshippers in clothes of every brilliant hue. The\nriver has an aspect of kindliness and geniality and life-givingness.\nIts waters and rich silt have brought plenty to many a barren acre,\nand the dwellers on its banks know well that it issues from the holy\nHimalaya.\n\nBut the Ganges is not always in this gracious mood, and does not\nalways wear this kindly aspect. In the rainy season it is a thing of\nterror. Overhead black, thundery clouds sweep on for days and\nweeks together towards the mountains. There is not a glimpse of sun.\nThe rain descends as a deluge. The river is still further swollen by\nthe melting of the snow on the Himalaya, and now comes swirling\nalong in dark and angry mood, rising higher and higher in its banks,\neating into them, and threatening to overtop them and carry death\nand destruction far and wide. Men no longer go down to meet it.\nThey shrink back from it. They uneasily watch it till the fulness of\nits strength is spent and it has returned to its normal beneficent\naspect.\n\nNo wonder such a river is regarded as sacred. To the more primitive\npeople it is literally a living person--and a person who may be\npropitiated, a person who may do them harm if they annoy him, and\ndo them good if they make themselves agreeable to him and furnish\nhim with what he wants. To the cultured Hindus it is an object of the\ndeepest reverence. If they can bathe in its waters their sins are\nwashed away. If after death their ashes can be cast on its broad\nbosom, they will be secure of everlasting bliss. From perhaps the\nearliest days of our race, for some hundreds of thousands of years,\nmen may have lived upon its banks. For it was in the forests beside\ngreat rivers, in a warm and even climate, that primitive men must\nhave lived. They would have launched their canoes upon its waters,\nand used it as their only pathway of communication with one\nanother. And always they would have looked upon it with mingled\nawe and affection. Besides the sun it would have been the one great\nnatural object which would attract their attention. Insensibly the\nsight of that ever-rolling flood must have deeply affected them.\nThey must have come to love it as they beheld it through the greater\npart of the year. The sight of its destructive power may have made\nthem recoil for a time in fear and awe. But this would be forgotten\nas the flood subsided, and the river was again smooth and smiling\nand passing peacefully along before them.\n\nSo men do not run away from it. They gather to it. They build great\ncities on its banks, and come from great distances to see it. They\nperform pilgrimages every year in thousands to the spot where it\nissues from the Himalaya. And they penetrate even to its source far\nback and high up in the mountains.\n\nTo the most enlightened, also, the Ganges should be an object of\nreverence for its antiquity, for its future, and for its power. From the\nsurface of the Bay of Bengal the sun's rays have drawn particles of\nwater into the atmosphere. Currents in the air have carried them for\nhundreds of miles over the sea and over the plains of Bengal, till the\nchill of the Himalaya Mountains has caused them to condense and\nfall in snow and rain. But some have been carried farther. They have\nbeen transported right over the Himalaya at a height of at least\n20,000 feet, till they have finally fallen in Tibet. It is a striking fact\nthat some of the water in the Ganges is from rivers in Tibet which\nhave cut their way clean through the mighty range of the Himalaya.\nThe Arun River, for example, rises in Tibet and cuts through the\nHimalaya by a deep gorge in the region between Mount Everest and\nKinchinjunga. These rivers are, indeed, much older than the\nmountains. They were running their course before the Himalaya\nwere upheaved, and they kept wearing out a channel for themselves\nas the mountains rose and slowly over-towered them.\n\nReverence, therefore, is due to the Ganges on account of its vast\nantiquity. Reverence also is due because it will flow on like now for\nhundreds of thousands and perhaps for millions of years to come.\nRound and round in never-ceasing cycle the water is drawn up from\nthe ocean, is carried along in the clouds, descends upon the\nmountains, and gathers in the Ganges to flow once more into the sea.\nThe Ganges may gradually change its course as it eats into first one\nbank and then the other. But it will flow on and on and on for as far\ninto the future as the human eye can ken.\n\nAnd its power, so terrifying to primitive man--even to us at times\n--will become more and more a power for good. Already great canals\nhave been taken from its main stream and its tributaries, and\nmillions of acres have been irrigated by its water, thus helping to\nbring to birth great crops of wheat and rice, cotton, sugar-cane, and\noil-seeds. Schemes for utilising the water-power in its fall through\nthe mountains by converting it into electric power are in\ncontemplation, so that railways may be run by it and power for great\nindustries be furnished. Once more, too, the course of the river may\nbecome a line of communication as sea-planes are used to fly from\ntown to town and alight upon its surface.\n\nSo as we come to know the river in its deepest significance, our\nimpression of its everlastingness and its irresistible power remains.\nBut our sense of fear diminishes. We feel that the river is ready to\nco-operate with us. That it is capable of being taken in hand and led.\nThat its power is not essentially destructive but beneficent. That\nthere is in it almost inexhaustible capacity for helping plant and\nbeast and man. And that it is a friend and anxious to help us.\n\nThe Hindus have been right all along in worshipping it. Their\nworship, with tropical luxuriance, may have developed to\nextravagant lengths. But the instinct which promoted this worship\nwas perfectly sound. The river bears within its breast great\nlife-giving properties, and in worshipping the river the Hindus were\nhalf-consciously expressing their sense of dependence on these\nlife-giving properties, and of affection and gratitude to the river for the\nbenefits it conferred. Mere fear of its destructive character--fear\nalone--would not produce the desire for worship. They did and do\nfear the river, but behind the fear is a feeling that it _can_ be\npropitiated, that it _can_ be induced to help man and does not want\nto thwart him. And here they were perfectly right. We are at last\nlearning the way by which this may be done, and now see clearly\nwhat the Hindus only vaguely felt, that the heart of the river is right\nenough--that once it is tamed and trained it can bring untold good to\nman.\n\nThis the Artist will readily discern. He will enter into the spirit of\nthe river. He will read its true character. Refusing to be terrorised by\nits more tremendous moods, he will exult in its might, and see in it a\npotent agency for good. In these ways the river will make its appeal\nto him; and responding to the appeal, the Artist will see great Beauty\nin the river and describe that Beauty to us.\n\n* * *\n\nBeyond the river, before we reach the mountain, we have to pass\nover absolutely level cultivated plains, without a single eminence in\nsight. To most they would appear dull, monotonous, uninteresting.\nThere is no horizon to which the eye can wander and find\nsatisfaction in remote distance. There is no hill to which to raise our\neyes and our souls with them. The outlook is confined within the\nnarrowest limits. Palm trees, banyan trees, houses, walled gardens,\neverywhere restrict it. The fields are small, the trees and houses\nnumerous. Nothing distant is to be seen. To the European the\nprospect is depressing. But to the Bengali it is his very life. These\ndensely inhabited plains are his home. They have, therefore, all the\nattraction which familiar scenes in which men have grown up from\nchildhood always have. A Bengali prefers them to high mountains.\nHe loves the sight of the brilliant emerald rice-fields, of the tall\nfeathery palms, of the shady banyan trees, of the flaming poinsettias,\nthe bright marigolds, cannas and bougainvillea, the many-coloured\ncrotons and calladiums, the sweet-scented jasmine, oranges,\ntuberoses, and gardenia; and the gaudy jays, the swiftly darting\nparrots, and the playful squirrels. He loves, too, the bathing-pools,\nand the patient oxen, and the cool, sequestered gardens. And he\nloves these things for their very nearness. His attention is not\ndistracted to distant horizons and inaccessible heights. All is close to\nthe eye and easily visible. His world may be small, but it is all\nwithin reach. He can know well each tree and flower, each bird and\nanimal. It is not a wide and varied life. But it is an intense and very\nvivid life; and to the Bengali, on that account, more preferable. And\nif it is confined it is at least confined in the open air, and in a climate\nof perpetual summer.\n\n* * *\n\nBeyond this highly cultivated and thickly populated part, and still in\nthe plains, we come to a wild jungle country which stretches up to\nthe foothills, and is swampy, pestilential, and swarming with every\nkind of biting insect. It is a nasty country to travel through. But it\nhas its interests. There grow here remarkable grasses, with tall\nstraight shoots gracefully bending over at the top from the weight of\ntheir feathery heads; and so high are these gigantic grasses that they\noften reach above the head of a man on an elephant. The areas\ncovered by them are practically impenetrable to men on foot, and\nthere is a mysterious feel about this region, for it is the haunt of\nrhinoceros, tigers, and boars. In passing through it we have an\nuneasy feeling that almost anything may appear on the instant, and\nthat once we were on foot and away from the path we would be\nirretrievably lost--drowned in a sea of waving grass.\n\nFrom this sea of grass rise patches of forest and single trees. The\nmost prevalent is the Sal tree _(Shorea robusta),_ a magnificent\ngregarious tree with a tall straight stem and thick glossy foliage. But\nthe most conspicuous in March and April is the Dak tree _(Butea\nfrondosa),_ an ungainly tree, but remarkable for its deep rich scarlet\nflowers, like gigantic sweet-peas but of a thick velvety texture.\nThese flowers blossom before the leaves appear, and when the tree\nis in full bloom it looks like a veritable flame in the forest.\n\nAnother beautiful tree which is found in this lower part is the\n_Acacia catechu,_ known in Northern India as the Khair tree, and\nfound all about the foothills of the Himalaya. Not tall and stately,\nbut rather contorted and ample like the oak, it has a graceful feathery\nfoliage and a kindly inviting nature.\n\n* * *\n\nProceeding over these level plains, which as we approach the\nmountains are covered with dense forest, stagnant morasses, and\ntrim tea-gardens, we one morning awake to find that over the\nhorizon to the north hangs a long cloud-like strip, white suffused\nwith pink--level on its lower edge but with the upper edge irregular\nin outline. No one who had not seen snow mountains before would\nsuppose for a moment that that strip could be a line of mountain\nsummits. For there is not a trace of any connection with the earth.\nBetween it and the earth is nothing but blue haze. And it is so high\nabove the horizon that it seems incredible that any such connection\ncould exist. Yet no one who _had_ seen snow mountains could\ndoubt for an instant that that rose-flushed strip of white was the\nHimalaya. For it possesses two unmistakable characteristics which\ndistinguish it from any cloud. Firstly, the lower edge is absolutely\nstraight and horizontal: it is exactly parallel with the horizon.\nSecondly, the upper edge is jagged, and the outline of the jaggedness\ncuts clean and perfectly defined against the intense blue of the sky.\n\nNo one who knows mountains could doubt that this line was the\nHimalaya, yet every time we see it afresh we marvel more. We\nknow for certain that those sharp edges _are_ the summits of\nmountains whose base is on this solid earth. Yet, however sure we\nmay be of that fact, we do not cease to wonder. And as we gaze\nupon that line of snowy summits no more--indeed, less--intrinsically\nbeautiful than many a cloud, yet unspeakably more significant, we\nare curiously elated. Something in us leaps to meet the mountains.\nAnd we cannot keep our eyes away. We seem lifted up, and feel\nhigher possibilities within ourselves and within the world than we\nhad ever known before. As we travel onward we strain to keep the\nmountains continually in sight, for we cannot bear to leave them.\nWe feel better men for having seen them, and for the remainder of\nour days we would keep them in continuing remembrance.\n\n* * *\n\nAs we come closer under the mountains the base emerges from the\nhaze and the line of snowy peaks disappears behind the nearer outer\nranges. Then we come to these ranges themselves, which rise with\nconsiderable abruptness out of the level plains with very little\nintermediate modulation of form, and we find them densely clothed\nin forest--true, rich, luxuriant, tropical forest with all the delights of\nglistening foliage, graceful ferns and palms, glorious orchids, and\nbrilliant butterflies.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE TEESTA VALLEY\n\nThis great forest, which extends for hundreds of miles along the\nslopes of the Himalaya, reaches up from the plains to the snows. In\nthe lower part it is a truly tropical forest, and about a tropical forest\nthere is something peculiarly mysterious. A strange stillness is over\nall. Not, indeed, the absolute silence of the desert, where literally not\na sound is heard; for here in the forest, even during the hot noonday\nquiet, there is always the purring of insect life. But that stillness\nwhen not a leaf moves and no harsh noise is heard, when an\nimpressive hush is laid upon the scene and we seem to be in some\nmysterious Presence dominating all about us and rousing our\nexpectancy.\n\nA kind of awe seizes us, and with it also comes a keen exhilaration.\nWe can see at most for a hundred yards in any direction. But we\nknow that the forest extends like this for hundreds of miles. And we\nrealise that if we wandered off the track we might never find it again.\nIt is all very awe-inspiring, and in some ways frightening. Still, we\nare thrilled by the sight of such a profusion, intensity, and variety of\nlife. In this hot, steamy atmosphere plants and trees grow in\nluxuriant abundance. Every inch of soil is occupied. And these\nforests are not like woods in England, which contain only three or\nfour species--oaks, beeches, sycamores, etc. In these Sikkim forests\nwe seldom see two trees of the same kind standing next each other.\nOne tree may be more prevalent than others, but there is always\ngreat variety in the forms and colours of the stems, the branches, the\nleaves, the flowers, the habit of growth. There are trees of immense\nheight with tall, strong, straight stems, and there are shrubs like\nhydrangeas of every size and description. There are climbers as huge\nas cables. And there are gentle little plants hardly rising above the\nground. There is no end to the variety of plant life, and we have an\ninner spring of delight as we come across treasure after treasure that\nhitherto we had only seen reared with infinite care in some\nexpensive hot-house.\n\nAnd what we see is only, we feel, a stray sample of what there is to\nbe seen. What may there not be in those forest depths which we dare\nnot enter for fear of losing our way! What other towering forest\nmonarchs might we not come across if we plunged into the forest!\nWhat other exquisite flowers, what insects, what birds, what animals!\nWhat wealth of insect life may there not be at the tops of the trees\nwhere the fierce sunshine hidden from us by their leaves is drawing\nout their flowers! What may there not be going on in the ground\nbeneath us! We know, that in these forests, perhaps near enough to\nsee us, though their forms are hidden by their likeness to their leafy\nsurroundings and the dappled sunlight, are animals as various as\nelephants, tigers, leopards, foxes, squirrels, and bats; birds as\nvarious as hawks, parrots, and finches; and insects from butterflies,\nbees, and wasps to crickets, beetles, and ants. The forest, we know,\nin addition to all the wealth of tree and plant life, is teeming with\nanimal and insect life, though of this we are able to see very little, so\ncarefully do animals conceal themselves. In the night they emerge,\nand in the morning and evening there is a deafening din of insect life.\nBut at noonday there is a soft and solemn hush, and we are tense\nwith curiosity to know all that is going on in those mysterious forest\ndepths and up among the tree-tops, so close but so impossible of\naccess.\n\nThe great forest is the very epitome of life. Concentrated here in\nsmall compass is every form and variety of living thing, from\nlowliest plant to forest monarch, from simplest animalcule to\nelephant, monkey, and man. There is life and abundant life all about\nus. But it is not the noisy, clamorous, obtrusive life of the city. It is a\nstill, intense life, full of untold possibilities for good or harm. And\nherein lies its mystery: we see much, but we feel that there is\ninfinitely more behind.\n\nOf this life of the forest in all its richness, intensity, and variety we\nshall come to know more as we ascend the Teesta Valley till it\nreaches the snows, and tropical plant and animal life changes first to\ntemperate and then to arctic forms. But first we must note some\nbeauties of the valley itself.\n\n* * *\n\nThe valley of the great Teesta River, the valleys of its tributaries, the\ngorges through which the main river and its tributaries rush, the\ncascades pouring in succession down the mountain-sides, the\nsequestered glens and dells--all these have beauties which the\nterrific rain and the mists in which they are usually enveloped do not\nhide but augment.\n\nThe River Teesta itself, though only a minor contributor to the\nBrahmaputra, is nevertheless during the rainy season, when it is fed\nboth by the falling rain and by the melting snows and glaciers of the\nKinchinjunga region, impressive in its might and energy. With a\nforce and tumult that nothing could withstand it comes swirling\ndown the valley. Before its rushing impetuosity everything would be\nswept away. For it is no little tossing torrent: it possesses depth and\nweight and volume, and sweeps majestically along in great waves\nand cataracts. In comparison with the serene composure of the lofty\nsummits here is life and force and activity to the full--and\ndestructive activity at that, to all appearance. Yet as, from the safety\nof a bridge by which the genius of man has spanned it, we look upon\nthe turmoil, a strange thrill comes through us. There is such splendid\nenergy in the river. We are fascinated by the power it displays. It is\nglorious to look upon. Alarming in a way it is. But we know it can\nonly act within certain strictly defined bounds. A foot beyond those\nbounds it is powerless. And while it is already confined by Nature\nwithin these limits, we know the day will come when it will be\ncompletely within the control of man and its very power available\nfor our own purposes. So in the end it is with no sense of terror that\nwe watch the raging river in its headlong course. Rather do we enjoy\nthe sight of such exultant energy, which will one day be at man's\ndisposal. We rejoice with the river in a feeling of power, and herein\nlies its Beauty for us.\n\n* * *\n\nAs we look at the tremendous gorges through which the river clears\nits way we again are filled with awe and wonder. Straight facing us\nis a clean, sheer cliff of hardest, sternest rock. It cannot be actually\nperpendicular, but to all appearance it is. And the mere sight of it\nstrengthens our souls. Here is granite solidity, and yet no mere stolid\nobstinacy. For these cliffs have risen--so the geologists tell us\n--through their own internal energy to their present proud position.\nThey have, indeed, had to give place to the river to this extent that\nthey have had to acknowledge his previous right of way and to leave\na passage for him in their upward effort. The river is careful to exact\nthat much toll from them year by year. But having paid that toll,\nthey have risen by a process of steady, long persistence, and have\nmaintained themselves in their exalted position by sheer firmness\nand tenacity of character. And as, dripping with warm moisture and\ncarrying with them in any available crevice graceful ferns and trees,\nthey rise above us high up into the clouds, and form the buttresses of\nthose snowy peaks of which we catch occasional glimpses, we are\nimpressed not only with the height of the aspiration those peaks\nembody, but with the strength and persistency of purpose which was\nnecessary to carry the aspiration into effect.\n\nOverpowered, indeed, we feel at times--shut in and overshadowed\nby what seems so infinitely greater than ourselves. The roaring river\nfills the centre of the gorge. The precipitous cliffs rise sheer on\neither hand. We seem for the moment too minute to cope with such\ntitanic conditions. But sometimes by circumventing the cliffs and\nafter a long tedious detour appearing high above them, sometimes\nby blasting a passage across their very face, we have proved\nourselves able to overcome them. They no longer affright us. And as\nwe return down the valley after a journey to its upmost limit, it is\nwith nothing but sheer delight that we look upon these cliffs. They\nsimply impress us with the strength that must go along with\nelevation of purpose if that purpose is to be achieved. Unbuttressed\nby these staunch cliffs the mountains could never have reached their\npresent height. We glory, then, with the cliffs in their solidity and\nstrength as they proudly face the world. And we recognise that in\nthis firmness and consistency of purpose lies their especial Beauty.\n\n* * *\n\nIn contrast with the swirling river and hard, rugged cliffs we, quite\nclose to them, and hidden away in a modest tributary of a tributary\nin the quiet forest depths, will happen upon some deep sequestered\npool which imbues us with a sense of the delicacy and reserve of\nNature. We here see her in a peculiarly tender aspect. The pool is\nstill and clear. The lulling murmurs of a waterfall show whence it\ndraws its being. A gentle rivulet carries the overbrim away. It is\nbounded by rocks and boulders green with exquisite ferns and\nmosses. Overhanging it are weeping palms with long straight leaves.\nTrees, with erect stems as tall as Nelson's Column, strain upward to\nthe light. Butterflies in numbers flutter noiselessly about. The air is\nabsolutely still and of a feel like satin. Clouds of intangible softness\nand clean and white as snow float around, appear, dissolve, and\nreappear. Through the parting in the overhanging trees the intense\nblue sky is seen in glimpses. The sun here and there pierces through\nthe arching foliage, and the greens of the foliage glisten brighter still.\nThe whole atmosphere of the spot is one of reticence and reserve.\nYet quiet though it be and restful though it be, there is no sense of\nstagnation. The pool, though deep and still, is vividly alive. Its\nwaters are continually being renewed. And the forest, though not a\nleaf moves, is, we know, straining with all the energy of life for food\nand light, for air and moisture. So by this jewel of a pool in its\nverdant setting we have a sense of an activity which is gentle and\nrefined. The glen's is a shy and intimate Beauty, especially\ncongenial to us after the forceful Beauty of the river and the bold,\nproud Beauty of the cliffs. But it is no insipid Beauty: in its very\nquietness and confidence is strength.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nTHE FOREST\n\nThe Teesta Valley in its lowest part is only 700 feet above sea-level.\nIt is deep and confined and saturated with perpetual moisture.\nHardly a breath of wind stirs, and all plant life is forced as in a\nhothouse. The trees do not, indeed, grow as high as the Big Trees of\nCalifornia or the eucalyptus in Australia, but some of these in the\nTeesta Valley are 200 feet in height with buttressed trunks between\n40 and 50 feet in girth, and give the same impression of stateliness\nand calm composure. With incredible effort and incessant struggle\nthey have attained their present proud position, and the traveller\nmost willingly accords them the tribute that is their due.\n\nGrand tropical oaks nearly 50 feet in girth also occur, screw-pines\n50 feet in height with immense crowns of grassy leaves 4 feet long,\npalms of many kinds, rattan-canes, bamboos, plantains, and tall\ngrasses such as only grow in dense, hot jungles. Gigantic climbers\ntackle the loftiest trees. One allied to the gourd bears immense\nyellowish-white pendulous blossoms; another bears curious\npitcher-shaped flowers. Vines, peppers, and pothos interlace with the palms\nand plantains in impenetrable jungle. Orchids clothe the trees.\nEverywhere and always we hear the whirr and hum of insect life,\nsometimes soft and soothing, sometimes harsh and strident. And\nfloating about wherever we look are butterflies innumerable, many\ndull and unpretentious, but some of a brilliancy of colour that makes\nus gasp with pleasure.\n\nWe may be pouring with perspiration, pestered by flies and\nmosquitoes, and in constant dread of leeches. But we forget all such\nannoyances in the joy of these wonders of the tropics, whether they\nbe trees or orchids, ferns or butterflies. And to see one of these\ngorgeous insects alight in front of us, slowly raise and lower his\nwings and turn himself about almost as if he were showing himself\noff for our especial pleasure, compensates us for every worry his\nfellows in the insect world may cause us.\n\nAs might be expected, in the steamy, dripping atmosphere ferns are\na predominating feature in the vegetation. Not less than two hundred\ndifferent kinds are found. The most noticeable are the tree ferns, of\nwhich alone there are eight species. Their average height is about 20\nfeet, but plants of 40 and 50 feet are not uncommon. And with their\ntall trunks and crown of immense graceful fronds they form a\nstriking feature in the forest, and in the moister valleys where they\nattain their full luxuriance they may be seen in extensive groves as\nwell as in little groups. Four kinds of maidenhair, always light and\ngraceful and attractive, are found; and of ferns common to Europe,\n_Osmunda regalis,_ the Royal fern of Europe, and the European\nmoonwort and alder's-tongue ferns. Then there is a fern which\nattains to gigantic proportions, especially in the cool forests, where\nits massive fronds grow to more than 5 yards in length and 3 in\nbreadth, with a spread over all, measuring from tip to tip of opposite\nfronds, of 8 yards. One handsome climbing fern clothes the trunks of\ntall trees; another which climbs on grasses and the smaller shrubs is\ncommon; and another forms almost impenetrable thickets 15 or 20\nfeet high. Of the kinds which grow on rocks and trees the most\ndelicately beautiful are the filmy ferns, of which there are eight\nkinds. The Irish filmy is the largest, covering the face of large rocks\nunder dense shade, its fronds growing to over a foot in length. Many\npolypodiums and aspleniums grow gracefully on the rocks and trees\nduring the rainy season. One especially elegant polypodium growing\non the ground has fronds about 6 or 7 feet long, and sometimes as\nmuch as 20 feet, and of proportionate width. Another conspicuous\nfern is the bird's-nest fern with its large, massive fronds growing\nunder shade on rocks and stems of trees.\n\nUnless we are fern experts it is impossible for us to identify each\namong so many species. But, at any rate, we gather an impression of\nelegance and grace, often of airy lightness, and of wonderful variety\nof size and form.\n\n* * *\n\nFrom the ferns we look to the rest of the forest, and after the first\nbewilderment at the profusion and variety of vegetation we try to\nfasten on to a few individuals or types which we can identify as\nhaving seen elsewhere in some other part of India or in some\npalm-house in England. We are in the still, steamy atmosphere of a\nhot-house, and we are conscious that all round us, growing in luxuriant\nabundance, are rare and beautiful plants of which a single specimen\nwould be treasured and treated with every fostering care in England.\nBut we sigh to be able to recognise these treasures and make contact\nbetween home and this exceptionally favoured region--favoured,\nthat is to say, as regards plant life. From among the giant trees, the\nbamboos, the palms, the climbers, the shrubs, the flowers, the\norchids, we look out anxiously for friends--or at least for\nacquaintances whom we hope may develop into friends as we meet\nthem again and again on our journeys through the forest.\n\nOf the flowers, the orchids are naturally the first to attract us. They\nshine out as real gems in the greenery around them. The eye jumps\nto them at once. Here seems to be something as nearly perfect in\ncolour, form, and texture as it could possibly be. If the orchid is\nwhite it is of the purest whiteness, and shines chaste and unsullied\namidst its dull surroundings. If it is purple, or pale yellow, or\ngolden-yellow, or rose, or violet, or white, the colour has always a\ndepth and purity which is deeply satisfying. And it seems to be\nbecause the waxy texture of these orchids is such a perfect medium\nfor the display of colour that orchids are so exceptionally beautiful.\nThe texture is of the very consistency best adapted for revealing the\nbeauty of colour. And when we pluck a spray of these choice\ntreasures from the forest branch and hold it in the sunlight, we feel\nwe are seeing colour almost in perfection.\n\nThe colour and texture are beautiful enough in themselves. But an\nadded attraction in these orchids is their form--the curvature of their\nsepals and petals, and the wonderful little pitchers and cups and lips\nand tongues which an orchid exhibits. And the form is no mere\ngeometrical pattern of lines and curves. It is obviously an ingenious\ncontrivance devised for some special purpose. That purpose we now\nknow to be the attraction of insects, who in sucking the orchid's\nhoney will unconsciously carry on their wings or backs the flower's\npollen to fertilise another orchid. Though whether the insect in the\nlong centuries by probing at the orchid has forced it to adapt itself to\nit, or whether the flower has forced the insect to adapt itself to the\nflower, or whether--as seems most likely--a process of mutual\nadaptation has been going on century by century, and the flower and\ninsect have been gradually adapting themselves to one another, is\nstill a matter of discussion among naturalists.\n\nWe cannot gather an orchid of any kind without marvelling at its\nintricate construction. And when we are looking at the orchid in its\nnatural surroundings in the forest itself and see the enormous\nnumbers and the immense variety, in size and form and habits, of\nthe insects around the orchid, and think how the orchid has to select\nits own particular species of insect and cater for that, and the insect\namong all the flowers has to select the particular species of orchid;\nand how the insect, whether butterfly or bee or moth or gnat or ant,\nor any other of the numerous kinds of insect, and the orchid have to\nadapt themselves to each other--we see how marvellous the mutual\nadaptation of flower to insect and insect to flower must have been.\nWe see how the particular species of orchid must have chosen the\nparticular species of bee, and the particular species of bee that\nparticular species of orchid, and the bee and orchid set themselves to\nadapt themselves to one another, the orchid using all the devices of\ncolour, scent, sweetness of honey, to attract the insect, and gradually\nshaping itself so that the insect can better reach the honey, and the\ninsect lengthening its proboscis and otherwise adapting itself so that\nit can better secure what it wants. And we see how perfectly--how\nnearly perfectly--the flower is designed for its purpose.\n\nBut what is perhaps most remarkable of all about an orchid is that\nthis marvel of colour and form and of texture of fabric unfolds itself\nfrom within a most ungainly, unsightly, unlikely-looking tuber.\nFrom shapeless, colourless tubers, which attach themselves to trunks\nand branches of trees and cling on to rocks, there emerge these\npeerless aristocrats of the flower-world, finished, polished,\nimmaculate, and reigning supreme through sheer distinction and\nexcellence at every point--and also because theirs is clearly no\nephemeral convolvulus-like beauty which will fade and vanish away\nin a twinkling, but is a beauty intensely matured, strong and deep\nand firm.\n\n* * *\n\nOf the 450 species of orchids found in the Sikkim Forest, many are\nvery rare. But fortunately the rarest are not the most beautiful in\ncolour and form. Some very beautiful orchids are also very common.\nThe most common are the dendrobiums, of which there are about\nforty species. The finest and best known is the _Dendrobium\nnobile._ It grows in the lower hills and valleys up to 5,000 feet, and\nalso in the plains. The flowers vary both in size and shade of colour;\nbut in Sikkim the sepals and petals are always purple, shading off\ninto white at the base. The tip has a central blotch of very deep\npurple surrounded by a broad margin of pale yellow or white. This\norchid is now very common in English hot-houses, so here is one\npoint of contact with the tropical forest.\n\nThe _D. densiflorum_ is equally common and grows in much the\nsame region. It flowers in a dense cluster on a stalk somewhat after\nthe fashion of a hyacinth. The sepals and petals of this beautiful\nspecies are of a pale yellow, while the lip is of a rich orange. One of\nthe most charming of the Sikkim dendrobiums has the smell of\nviolets, and the sepals and petals are white-tipped with violet, the\nstem being sometimes 2 1/2 feet long. Another noteworthy\ndendrobium is the _D. pierardi,_ whose prevailing colour is a\nbeautiful rose or pale purple.\n\nAfter the dendrobiums the coelogyne are the most worth noting. The\n_ Coelogyne cristata_ is common at elevations of from 5,000 to\n8,000 feet, and flowers during March and April. It has numerous\nlarge flowers, which are pure white throughout, with the exception\nof the lamellae of the lip, which are yellow. It may be seen in flower\nin March in the orchid-house at Kew. In the forest it grows in such\nprofusion as to make the trunk of a dead tree look as if it were\ncovered with snow.\n\nThe _C. humilis_ is known as the Himalayan crocus. It grows like a\ncrocus from a pseudo-bulb at elevations from 7,000 to 8,500 feet,\nand flowers during February and March. The flowers are white and\nfrom 2 to 2 1/2 inches in diameter. The lip is speckled with purple\ntowards the edge.\n\nNot so common but larger and handsomer than the dendrobiums are\nthe cymbidiums, of which there are sixteen different species, usually\nwith long grassy leaves and many-flowered drooping racemes with\nlarge handsome flowers. A very sweet-scented species is the\n_Cymbidium eburneum,_ which is common between elevations of\n1,000 to 3,000 feet, and flowers during March and April. The\nprevailing colour of the flowers is an ivory white, but the ridge on\nthe lip is a brilliant yellow. This also may be seen at Kew in March.\n\nThese are some of the commonest orchids and all now grow in\nEngland, so that we can begin to get a footing in the forest and not\nfeel that it is so completely strange to us. And as we ascend higher\nwe shall find many more friends among the flowers. And to guide us\namong the trees and flowers we fortunately have Sir Joseph Hooker,\nwho in his \"Himalayan Journals\" has described this botanist's\nparadise in loving detail, so we cannot do better than follow him.\nAmid the many plants he mentions we can only select a few, but\nthese few will at least help to give us some conception of the whole\nand show the range of variation as we ascend.\n\nAs we proceed higher up the valley to an altitude of about 4,000 feet,\nEuropean trees and plants begin to be intermingled with the tropical\nvegetation. Hornbeams appear, and birch, willow, alder, and walnut\ngrow side by side with wild plantains, palms, and gigantic bamboos.\nBrambles, speedwells, forget-me-nots, and nettles grow mixed with\nfigs, balsams, peppers, and huge climbing vines. The wild English\nstrawberry is found on the ground, while above tropical orchids like\nthe dendrobiums cover the trunks of the oaks. The bracken and the\nclub-moss of our British moors grow associated with tree-ferns. And\nEnglish grow alongside Himalayan mosses.\n\nThe valley itself continues of the same character--deep with its steep\nsides clothed in forest and the path scrambling over spurs, making\nwide detours up side valleys, or scraping along the sides of cliffs\nwhich stand perpendicularly over the raging river below. Only here\nand there are clearings in the forest where Lepchas or Nepalese have\nbuilt themselves a few wooden houses and roughly cultivated the\nland. Otherwise we are under the same green mantle of forest which\nextends everywhere over the mountains; and though we are now\npiercing straight through the main axis of the Himalaya, we seldom\ncatch even a glimpse of the snowy heights which must be so near.\n\nBut the vegetation is distinctly changing in character as we\nascend--the most tropical trees and plants gradually disappearing, and more\nand more flowers of the temperate zone coming into evidence. And\nas we pierce farther into the mountains the climate becomes sensibly\ndrier and the forest lighter. There is still a heavy enough rainfall to\nsatisfy any ordinary plant or human being. But there is not the same\ndeluge that descends upon the outer ridges. So the forest is not so\ndense. Frequently in its place social grasses clothe the\nmountain-sides; and yellow violets, primulas, anemones, delphiniums,\ncurrants, and saxifrages remind us of regions more akin to our own.\n\nNow, too, we have reached the habitat of the rhododendrons, which\nare so peculiarly a glory of Sikkim, and it is worth while to pause\nand take special note of them. Out of the thirty species which are\nfound in Sikkim, all the most beautiful have been introduced\n--chiefly by Sir Joseph Hooker--into England, and are grown in many\nparks and gardens as well as at Kew. So English people can form\nsome idea of what the flowering trees of the Sikkim Forest are like.\nBut they must multiply by many times the few specimens they see in\nan English park or hot-house, and must realise that as cowslips are\nin a grassy meadow, so are these rhododendron trees in the Sikkim\nForest. Red, mauve, white, or yellow, they grow as great flowers\namong the green giants of the forest and brighten it with colour. The\nseparate blossoms of a rhododendron tree cannot compare in beauty\nwith the individual orchid. There is in them neither the deep richness\nof colour nor wonder of form nor sense of deeply matured\nexcellence. The claim of the rhododendron to favour is rather in the\ncollective quantity and mass of flowers so that by sheer weight of\nnumbers it can produce its effect of colour. In some of the upper\nvalleys the mountain slopes are clothed in a deep green mantle\nglowing with bells of scarlet, white, or yellow.\n\nPerhaps the most splendid of these rhododendrons is\n_Rhododendron grande_ or _argenteum,_ which grows to a height\nof from 30 to 40 feet, and has waxy bell-shaped flowers of a\nyellowish-white suffused with pink, 2 to 3 inches long and about the\nsame across. The scarlet _R. arboreum,_ so general in the Himalaya,\nis common in Sikkim and furnishes brilliant patches of colour in the\nforest. And a magnificent species is _R. Auchlandii_ or\n_Griffithianum,_ which has large white flowers tinged with pink, of\na firm fleshy texture and with a mouth 5 inches across. It has been\ncalled the queen of all flowering shrubs. It grows well in Cornwall,\nand among the hybrids from it is the famous Pink Pearl.\n\n_R. Falconeri,_ a white-flowered species, is eminently characteristic\nof the genus in habit, place of growth and locality, never occurring\nbelow 10,000 feet. In foliage it is incomparably the finest. It throws\nout one or two trunks clean and smooth, 30 feet or so high, the\nbranches terminated by immense leaves, deep green above edged\nwith yellow and ruby red-brown below. The creamy white flowers\nare shaded with lilac and are slightly scented. They are produced in\ntightly-packed clusters 9 to 15 inches across and twenty or more in\nnumbers.\n\nA peculiar (in that it is of all the species the only one that is\nepiphytal) but much the largest flowered species is the _R.\nDalhousiae._ It grows, like the orchids, among ferns and moss upon\nthe trunks of, large trees, especially oaks and magnolias, and attains\na height of 6 to 8 feet. The flowers are three to seven in a head, and\nare 3 1/2 to 5 inches long and as much across the mouth, white with\nan occasional tinge of rose and very fragrant. In size, colour, and\nfragrance of the blossoms this is the noblest of the genus. It grows\nout-of-doors in Cornwall and in the greenhouse in other parts of\nEngland as a scraggy bush 10 to 12 feet high. _R. barbatum_ is a\ntree from 40 to 60 feet high, producing flowers of a rich scarlet or\nblood-colour, and sometimes puce or rich pink. It is one of the most\nbeautiful of the Himalayan rhododendrons, and is now very\ncommon in England, growing freely out-of-doors. Another truly\nsuperb plant is _R. Maddeni,_ with very handsome pure white\nflowers 3 1/2 to 4 inches long and as much across the mouth. This is\nnow a special favourite in England. It grows in large bushes in the\nopen in Cornwall and is very sweet-scented. _R. virgatum_ is a\nbeautiful delicately white-flowered shrub. And _R. campylo-carpum_\ndisplays masses of exquisite pale yellow bells of rarest delicacy.\n\nBesides rhododendrons, ash, walnut, and maple become more\nabundant as we ascend, and at 9,000 feet larch appears, and there are\nwoods of a spruce resembling the Norwegian spruce in general\nappearance. Among the plants are wood-sorrel, bramble, nut, spiraea,\nand various other South European and North American genera.\n\nThe climate is no longer stifling and the leeches have disappeared.\nWe miss many beauties of the tropical forest. But, with the\nvegetation more and more resembling what we are accustomed to in\nEurope, we are feeling more at home. The path winds through cool\nand pleasant woods, following the varying contour of the\nmountain-sides. We are no longer oppressed by the strangeness of the life\naround us. At almost every turn we come across something new yet\nnot wholly unfamiliar. And standing out especially in our memory\nof this region will be the sight of a gigantic lily rearing itself ten feet\nhigh in the forest, and as pure in its perfect whiteness as if it had\nbeen grown in a garden. It is the _Lilium giganteum,_ and it has\nfourteen flowers on a single stalk and each 4 1/2 inches long and the\nsame across.\n\nWe still love most of all the white violets we have as children picked\nin an English wood, and even this great white lily will never\nsupplant them in our affections. But the sight of that glorious plant\nrising proudly from amidst the greenery of its forest setting will be\nfor us more than any picture. And its being \"wild\" has the same\nfascination for us that a flower that is \"wild,\" and not garden grown,\nhas for a child. In a florist's shop we may see lilies even more\nbeautiful than this, but the enjoyment we get from seeing the florist's\nproduction bears no comparison whatever with the enjoyment we\nget from seeing this lily in a distant Himalayan forest where not so\nmany white men ever go. We often have experiences which\nperceptibly age us. But this is one of those experiences which most\ncertainly make us younger. We are once again children finding\nflowers in a wood.\n\nAs we proceed upward the valley opens out, the mountains recede\nand are less steep. They are also less wooded, their slopes become\nmore covered with grass, and the river, no longer a raging torrent,\nnow meanders in a broad bed. The great peaks are somewhere close\nby, but we do not see the highest, and for the Himalaya the scenery\nis somewhat tame. But the number of herbaceous plants is great. A\ncomplete record of them would include most of the common genera\nof Europe and North America. Among them are purple, yellow, pink,\nand white primulas, golden potentillas, gentians of deepest azure,\ndelicate anemones, speedwells, fritillaries, oxalis, balsams, and\nranunculus. One special treasure of this part is a great red rose\n_(Rosa macrophylla),_ one of the most beautiful of Himalayan\nplants whose single blossoms are as large as the palm of the hand.\nWith these plants from the temperate zone are mixed the far outliers\nof the tropical genera--orchids, begonias, and others--whose ascent\nto these high regions has been favoured by the great summer heat\nand moisture.\n\nWe are now in the region of the primulas for which (besides its\norchids and rhododendrons) Sikkim is famous. Sikkim may indeed\nbe called the headquarters of the Indian primroses, and many species\nare found there which appear to occur nowhere else. There are from\nthirty to forty species, the majority growing at altitudes from 12,000\nto 15,000 feet, two or three only being found below 10,000 feet, and\ntwo or three as high as 16,000 to 17,000 feet. The best known is the\n_ Primula sikkimensis,_ which grows well in England and resembles\na gigantic cowslip. It thrills us to see it growing in golden masses in\nthe high valleys in wet boggy places--though the precise colour may\nbe better described as lemon-yellow rather than gold.\n\nThe prevailing colour of the primulas is purple, but white, yellow,\nblue, and pink are also found. The _P. denticulata_ has purple to\nbright sapphire blue flowers, and great stretches of country are\nalmost blue with the lovely heads of this primrose. Miles of country\ncan be seen literally covered with _P. obtusifolia,_ which has purple\nflowers and a strong metallic smell. _P. Kingii_ is a lovely plant\nwith flowers of such a dark claret colour that they are almost black.\nAnd perhaps the most striking primula is _P. Elwesiana,_ with large\nsolitary deflexed purple flowers.\n\nPoppies also are a feature of the Sikkim vegetation. Near the huts\nthe people cultivate a majestic species near _Menconopsis\nsimplicifolia,_ but it grows in dense clusters 2 or 3 feet high. The\nflowers vary in diameter from 5 to 7 inches, and are an intensely\nvivid blue on opening, though they change before fading into purple.\n_M. simplicifolia_ itself is also found at altitudes from 12,000 to\n15,000 feet--a clear light blue species of special beauty, growing\nas a single flower on a single stem, and now to be seen at\nboth Edinburgh and Kew. Another beautiful poppy is the _M.\nnepalensis,_ which grows in the central dampest regions of Sikkim\nat elevations of 10,000 to 11,000 feet and resembles a miniature\nhollyhock, the flowers being of a pale golden or sulphur-yellow, 2 or\n3 inches in diameter and several on a stalk.\n\nAs Tangu is approached the valley expands into broad grassy flats,\nand here at about 13,000 feet the vegetation rapidly diminishes in\nstature and abundance, and the change in species is very great. Larch,\nmaple, cherry, and spiraea disappear, leaving willows, juniper,\nstunted birch, silver fir, mountain ash berberries, currant,\nhoneysuckle, azalea, and many rhododendrons. The turfy ground is\ncovered with gentians, potentillas, geraniums, and purple and yellow\nmeconopsis, delphiniums, orchids, saxifrage, campanulas,\nranunculus, anemones, primulas (including the magnificent\n_Primula Sikkimensis),_ and three or four species of ferns. The\ncountry being now so much more open, the valley bottom and the\nmountain-sides glow with purples and yellows of various shades.\nNot even here, nor indeed anywhere in the Himalaya, do we see that\nmass and glow of colour we find in California, where wide sheets of\nmeadow-land are ablaze with the purple of the lupins and the gold of\nthe Californian poppy. But for the number of varieties of plants\nthese upper valleys of the Teesta River can scarcely be excelled. As\nwe ascend the mountain-sides above Tangu we find them covered\nwith plants of numerous different kinds, and even at about 14,000\nfeet Hooker gathered over two hundred plants.\n\nBut now we are nearing the limit of plant life. At 17,000 feet the\nvegetation has ceased to be alpine and has become arctic, and the\nplants nearest the snow-line are minute primulas, saxifrages,\ngentians, grasses, sedges, some tufted wormwood, and a dwarf\nrhododendron, the most alpine of wooded plants.\n\nAt the summit of the Donkia Pass Hooker found one flowering plant,\nthe _Arenaria rupifragia._ The fescue _(Festuca ovina),_ a little fern\n_(Woodsia),_ and a saussurea ascend very near the summit. A\npink-coloured woolly saussurea and _Delphinium glaciale_ are two of the\nmost lofty plants, and are commonly found from 17,500 feet to\n18,000 feet. Besides some barren mosses several lichens grow on\nthe top, as _Cladonia vermicularis,_ the yellow _Lecidea\ngeographica_ and the orange _L. miniata._\n\nAt 18,300 feet Hooker found on one stone only a fine Scottish lichen,\na species of gyrophora, the \"tripe de roche\" of Arctic voyagers and\nthe food of the Canadian hunters. It is also abundant in the Scotch\nAlps.\n\nOn the summit of Bhomtso, 18,590 feet, the only plants were the\nlichens _Lecidea miniata_ (or _Parmalia miniata)_ mentioned\nabove, and borrera. The first-named minute lichen is the most arctic,\nantarctic, alpine, and universally diffused in the world, and often\noccurs so abundantly as to colour the rocks an orange red.\n\n* * *\n\nThe entire range of plant life, from the truly tropical to the hardiest\narctic, is now complete. As we look back from the limit of perpetual\nsnow we see the whole great procession in a glance. We have come\nacross no African, nor South American, nor Australian plants, so we\nhave not seen anything like the _whole_ of plant life. But the range\nfrom the tropic to the arctic has been complete and continuous. In no\nother region could we in so short a space as a hundred miles--the\ndistance from Bath to London--see the entire range so fully\nrepresented.\n\nAnd actually _seeing_ how vast is the range and variety of plant life\nis a very different thing from knowing that it exists; seeing the\nflowers in the flesh is altogether different from only reading\ndescriptions of them; and seeing them in masses and in their natural\nsurroundings affects us quite differently from seeing only a few in a\ngarden or in a hot-house. Here on the spot we feel close in touch\nwith Nature's own heart. We see Nature's productions springing up\nfresh and new straight from the very fountain source. We have the\njoy of being able to stretch out a hand and pick a flower direct from\nits own surroundings, and to fondle it, examine it all round, admire\nits colour, form, and texture, compare its beauty with the beauty of\nother flowers and settle wherein its special beauty lies. We shall\nnever be able to give to even the most exquisite orchid or the most\nperfect lily the same affection that we give to the primroses and\nviolets of our native land. But we may be sure that our\nNaturalist-Artist, when he gathers together in his mind the impressions\nwhich have been made upon him by his passage through the tropical forests\nto the alpine uplands and thence to the limit of perpetual snow, will\nfind that his sense of the variety of beauty to be found in trees and\nleaves, in ferns and flowers, has immeasurably expanded. He will\nhave acquired a firmer grasp of plant life as a whole. He will have a\ntruer measure of the beauty in it. And irresistibly, but most willingly,\nhe will have been more closely drawn to Nature's heart.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTHE DENIZENS OF THE FOREST\n\nSo far we have paid attention almost exclusively to the plant life.\nBut all through Sikkim the insect life presses itself just as insistently\non our notice. In the tropical portion it is unbelievably abundant and\nvaried. It swarms about us and is ever present. And much of it is as\nbeautiful as the flowers. For sheer attractiveness the butterflies are\nas compelling as the orchids. Mosquitoes, gnats, flies, leeches, every\ntorment there is. But we forgive everything for the chance of being\nable to see alive and in the full glory of their colouring these brilliant\ngems of the insect world which we can in places view in hundreds\nand thousands at a time--and in extraordinary variety, for in this\nlittle country more than six hundred species are found--about ten\ntimes as many as are met with in England. Moreover, there is no\nseason when they are wholly absent, for in the hot valleys they may\nbe seen all the year round, though naturally there are more in the\nsummer than in the winter.\n\nIf it were not for other attractions we would like to concentrate our\nattention on these beautiful creatures alone. For they fascinate us by\nthe daring of their colours, by their bold designs, by the way in\nwhich they blend the colours with one another, and by the extreme\ndelicacy and chasteness of both colour and design. We are reluctant\nto take the life of a single one of the thousands we see, but yet we\nare itching, too, to lay hold of one after another as it sails into sight\ndisplaying some fresh beauty. We want to handle it as we would a\nflower, turn it about and examine it from every point of view till not\na shade or aspect of its beauty has escaped us. In the presence of\nthese brilliant butterflies we are children once more. We want to\nhave them in our hands and feel that they are in our possession. It is\ntantalising merely to view them from a distance. We want to enjoy\ntheir beauty to the full.\n\nThese butterflies of Sikkim are such complete strangers to us we do\nnot even know their names. From the \"Gazetteer,\" however, we\nlearn that the most beautiful of them are the papilios, of which alone\nthere are no less than forty-two species. And three of these--namely,\nthe _Teinophalus imperialis_ (which occurs on Tiger Hill above\nDarjiling) and two ornithopteras, or bird-butterflies--are among the\nmost splendid of all butterflies. The former is green on the upper\nside with yellow spots on the hind-wing, and the long tails are tipped\nwith yellow. The two bird-butterflies are common in the low valleys\nfrom May to October. They are truly magnificent insects, measuring\nfrom 6 to 8 inches across. Their fore-wings are wholly of a velvety\nblack and the hind-wing golden yellow scolloped with black.\n\nOf the well-known green species of papilio, with longish tails and\nblue or green spots on the hindwing, there are four species, of which\none is European. Some have semi-transparent wings of a lace-like\npattern, with long slender tails to the hind-wings, and are of a very\nelegant shape.\n\nA most gorgeously-coloured butterfly is the _Thaumantis diores,_\nblack with large spots (which cover a great part of both fore and\nhind wings) of a brilliant metallic, changeable blue. It measures 4\n3/4 inches across the outspread wings. It avoids the direct sunlight\nand dodges about among the scrub growing under the deep shade of\ntall trees in the hottest and moistest valleys.\n\nOne of the most lovely butterflies in the world is the\n_Stichophthalma camadeva,_ which is one of the largest of the\nSikkim butterflies, being from 5 to 6 1/2 inches in expanse. It is\nmore soberly coloured on the upper side than the last-named, being\nchiefly white and brown, but the underside is more beautiful, having\na row of five red ocelli with black irides on each wing and other\npretty markings.\n\nThe lyccenides, or \"blues,\" are represented by no less than 154\nspecies, several of them of surpassing beauty. Many are marked\nwith changeable metallic hues on the upper side of the fore-wing:\nsome violet, some with green, and some with golden bronze. The\nmost lovely of all is the _Ilerea brahma,_ of which the colouring of\nthe upper side of the male is unique.\n\nThen there is the curious leaf-butterfly, which has a marvellous\nresemblance to a dead leaf with its wings folded over the back and\nshowing the underside only, the leaf-stalk veins being excellently\nmimicked. But when flying about its upper side, which is a deep\nviolet-blue with a conspicuous yellowish bar across the fore-wing, is\nexposed, and the butterfly is then most beautiful. I have seen many\nof these lovely butterflies flying about in the Teesta Valley,\nglistening in the dappled light of the forest, and then settle on a\nbranch; and unless I had actually seen them alight, I should never\nhave known them from leaves.\n\n* * *\n\nThe moths, though naturally not as beautiful as the butterflies, are\nfar more numerous, there being something like two thousand species.\nSeveral of them are the largest of the insect race. And one of them,\nthe famous atlas moth, is sometimes nearly a foot across. Next in\nsize come several species of the genus _Actias,_ of which _selene_\nis the most common. It is of a pale green colour with a pinkish; spot,\nand has long slender tails. It measures about 8 inches across the\nfore-wings, and nearly as much from shoulder to the tip of the tail.\n\n* * *\n\nOther insects numerously represented in Sikkim are beetles, bugs,\ngrasshoppers, praying insects, walking-stick insects, dragon-flies,\nants, lantern-flies, cicadae, etc.\n\n* * *\n\nPlant life and insect life are abundant enough, but of birds there\nseem to be comparatively few. As we travel through the forest we do\nnot notice many of them, and we do not hear many. We do not\neverywhere find great flocks of birds as we see swarms of insects.\nAnd we do not find the forest resounding with the songs of birds as\nit does with the hum and crackle of insects. In this respect we are\ndisappointed.\n\nBut the birds of Sikkim, if few in number, are great in variety. Birds\nfeed on fruits, berries, seeds, insects, grubs, caterpillars, small\nanimals, and even little birds. Some birds like a still, hot, damp\nclimate. Other birds like a cold, dry climate. Some birds like the\nshade and quiet and protection of the forest. Others like the open and\nthe sunshine. Some birds find their food in the water, others on the\nland. And the Sikkim Himalaya, from the plains to the mountains,\nprovides such a rich variety of plant and insect life, such a variety of\nclimate and of country, and so plentiful a supply of water, that birds\nof the widest difference of requirements can here be provided with\ntheir needs.\n\nConsequently birds of numerous different species make Sikkim their\nhabitat, either permanently or for certain seasons of the year. And\nGammie, who has specially studied the natural history of Sikkim,\nsays in the \"Sikkim Gazetteer\" that in no part of the world of an\nequal area are birds more profusely represented in species. The birds\nmay not be so numerous as in other parts, but they are more varied.\nBetween five and six hundred species are represented, varying from\nthe great vulture known as the lammergeyer, which is 9 1/2 feet\nacross the outstretched wing, down to the tiny flower-pecker, barely\nexceeding 3 inches from the end of its beak to the tip of its tail.\n\nOf the birds found in the forest itself, the honey-suckers or sun-birds\nare perhaps the most beautiful. There are no gorgeous birds of\nparadise, and even resplendent parrots are not very numerous. But\nthese little sun-birds glitter like jewels among the leafy foliage, and\nthe lustrous metallic hues of different shades with which they are\nrichly coloured on the head and long tail-feathers change and flash\nin the sunlight with every slightest movement.\n\nNot all so brilliant in colour but very delightful to watch are the\nfly-catchers. Of these there are no less than twenty-six species, the most\nremarkable being the fairy blue-chat, which is brilliantly marked\nwith different shades of glistening blue, and another which is\nstrikingly coloured in almost uniform verditer blue. In the very\nlowest valleys is found the beautiful paradise fly-catcher, with a\nlong-pointed black crest, the rest of the plumage white with black\nshafts and the tail 14 inches in length. The quickness and agility this\nlovely bird displays as it darts and twists and turns in the pursuit of\nbutterflies in their uneven dodging flight is one of the marvels of\nforest life.\n\nGame-birds are not abundant, but four species of pheasant are found,\nof which the largest and handsomest is the moonal, bronze-green\nglossed with gold and with a tail of cinnamon red. Sportsmen in the\nHimalaya are familiar with the sight of this radiantly-coloured bird\nswishing down the mountain-side with apparently the speed and\nalmost the brilliancy of a flash of lightning. Not so handsome as the\nmoonal, being small and greyish in colour on the back, is the\nblood-pheasant, remarkable for its blood-red streaks on the breast and its\nblood-red under-tail-coverts.\n\nBulbuls are largely represented and may be seen in large flocks\namong the scrub--delightful, homely little birds with bright and\ncheery ways which specially attract us. Not very common, but to be\nfound in the lower part of the valley, is the beautiful fairy bluebird, a\nlarge bird 10 inches in length with a glistening cobalt-blue upper\npart and velvet black beneath. The European cuckoo may be heard\nall day long in the season from about 3,500 feet upwards. And about\na dozen other cuckoos visit Sikkim, of which by far the prettiest is\nthe emerald cuckoo, a small bird not much more than 6 inches long,\nof a brilliant emerald green with golden sheen, and below white\nbarred with shining green. Kingfishers are not numerous, as fish are\nscarce. But there are four species, of which the prettiest is a lovely\nlittle creature about 5 inches long, coloured with rufous, white, and\ndifferent shades of blue and violet.\n\nThese are only a few of the most striking birds; but to give an idea\nof the variety of other birds which may be found in Sikkim, many of\nwhich are hardly less beautiful than those above described, we may\nlearn from Gammie that among the birds of prey there are eleven\neagles; the peregrine falcon, a little pigmy falcon, and five other\nfalcons; a big brown wood-owl, 2 feet in length, a pigmy owlet\nmeasuring only 6 inches, and nine other owls; and six kites;--among\nthe game-birds, besides pheasants, three quails, two hill-partridges, a\njungle-fowl, woodcock, a snow-cock, and a snow-partridge;--among\nother classes of birds, nine or ten species of pigeons and doves; the\nEuropean raven and a jungle crow; one jay and several magpies; two\nhornbills, one of which is 4 feet in length; the common and the\nNepal swallow; about thirty species of finches, among them being\nthree bullfinches and eight rose-finches; three or four larks;\nnumerous and varied tits; wagtails; five species of parrots; eight or\nnine species of wren; thrushes of a dozen species; ten species of\nrobin; and, lastly, many species of waders such as florekin, cranes,\nplovers, snipe, sandpipers, coots, water-hen, storks, heron,\ncormorants, terns, divers, and ducks.\n\n* * *\n\nReptiles are not commonly accounted among the beauties of Nature;\nbut they must not be lost sight of in reviewing the life of the forest.\nThe largest is the python, whose usual length is 12 feet, though\nindividuals of 16 to 20 feet are not very rare. A very beautiful snake\nfound in the cool forests is green with a broad black band on each\nside of the hinder half of the body and tail, the green scales being\nmargined with black. Another snake of the same length is a\nhandsome green whip-snake, graceful in its movements, but\nferocious and aggressive in its habits, although quite harmless. The\nordinary cobra is not uncommon. The giant cobra is also found in\nthe lower valleys, and grows to a length of 12 or 13 feet. Four\nspecies of pit vipers are found. The krait occurs, but is not common.\nAltogether there are nine species of venomous snakes and thirty\nspecies of non-venomous snakes found in Sikkim.\n\nOf lizards there are ten species. One is popularly known as the\nchameleon on account of its rather showy colours, but does not\nreally belong to that family. And a beautiful grass-snake, which, as\nit is limbless, is often mistaken for a tree-snake, is also of the lizard\ngenus.\n\nOf frogs and toads there are about sixteen species. Among them are\nseveral prettily-coloured tree-frogs. Several of the species are\nrecognised by their call.\n\n* * *\n\nOf mammals about eighty-one species are found. They include three\nmonkeys, eight of the cat tribe, two civet cats, one tree cat, two\nmongooses, two of the dog tribe, five pole-cats and weasels, one\nferret-badger, three otters, one cat-bear, two bears, one tree-shrew,\none mole, six shrews, two water-shrews, twelve bats, four squirrels,\ntwo marmots, eight rats and mice, one vole, one porcupine, four deer,\ntwo forest-goats, one goat, one sheep, and one ant-eater.\n\nThe common monkey of India, the Bengal monkey, is found in large\ncompanies at low elevations. The Himalayan monkey is abundant\nfrom 3,000 to 6,000 feet; and the Himalayan langur frequents the\nzone from 7,000 to 12,000 feet.\n\nThe tiger inhabits the Terai at the foot of the mountains, but is only\nan occasional visitor to Sikkim proper. But the leopard and the\nclouded leopard are permanent residents and fairly common. This\nlast is of a most beautiful mottled colouring. Another leopard is the\nsnow-leopard, which inhabits high altitudes only. The marbled-cat is\na miniature edition of the clouded leopard, and the leopard-cat of the\ncommon leopard. The large Indian civet-cat is not uncommon, but\nthe spotted tiger-civet, a very beautiful and active creature, is rare.\nThe jackal is not uncommon, and there is at least one species of\nwild-dog. These dogs hunt in packs and kill wild-pig, deer, goats,\netc. A very peculiar and interesting animal is the cat-bear, which has\nthe head and arms of a minute bear and the tail of a cat. The brown\nbear occurs at high altitudes, and the Himalayan black bear is\ncommon lower down. The black hill squirrel is a large handsome\nanimal of the lower forests, and a very handsome flying squirrel\ninhabits the forests between 5,000 and 10,000 feet.\n\nThe great Sikkim stag is not found in Sikkim proper, but inhabits the\nChumbi Valley. The sambhar stag is abundant. The commonest of\nthe deer tribe is the khakar, or barking deer. It is, says Hodgson,\nunmatched for flexibility and power of creeping through tangled\nunderwood. The musk deer remains at high elevations.\n\nIn addition to the above, elephants come up from the forests in the\nplains, and in these plain forests are found (besides tigers and boars)\nrhinoceros, bison, and buffalo.\n\n* * *\n\nThis has been a long enumeration of the animal life, in its many\nbranches, which is found in the forest. The mere cataloguing of it is\nsufficient to show the extent and variety of insect, bird, reptile, and\nmammal life which the forest contains. But it is with the beauty of\nthis animal life, rather than with its extent and variety, that we are\nconcerned. And if the Artist is to see its full beauty, he must see it\nwith the eyes of the naturalist and sportsman--men whose eyes are\ntrained to observe in minutest detail the form and colour and\ncharacter of each animal, bird, or insect, and who know something\nof the life each has to lead, and the conditions in which it is placed.\nMore sportsmen than naturalists, and more naturalists than artists,\nobserve these and other animals in their natural surroundings. But,\nnowadays, at least photographers and cinematographers are going\ninto the wilds to portray them. And perhaps naturalist-artists will\narise who, every bit as keen as sportsmen now are to get to close\nquarters with game animals, will want to get into positions from\nwhich they will be able carefully to observe animals of all kinds and\ntake note of every characteristic. These artists will have to be fully\nas alert as the sportsmen, and be able on the instant, and from a\nfleeting glimpse, to note the lines and shades and character of the\nanimal. But, if they do this, they will, in all probability, bring back\nmore lasting and deeper impressions of the animals than the\nsportsman with all his keen observation ever receives--and they will\nenjoy a greater pleasure. An artist, who from observing an animal in\nits own haunts, and from the sketches and notes he made there,\ncould paint a picture of it in its own surroundings, would assuredly\nderive more pleasure from his enterprise than the sportsman who\nsimply brought back the animal's head. In addition he would have\nenabled others to share his enjoyment with him. There is a great\nfield here for the painter; and many would welcome a change from\nthe same old cows and sheep tamely grazing in a meadow, which is\nall that artists usually present to us of animal life.\n\nAmong the most conspicuous animals met with are the elephant, the\nbison, the buffalo, and the rhinoceros. And it would be hard to\ndiscover beauty in any of these. As we see the rhinoceros, for\nexample, in the Zoological Gardens nothing could be more ugly. Yet\nwe should not despair of finding beauty even in a rhinoceros if we\ncould study him in his natural surroundings and understand all the\ncircumstances of his life. If we observed him and his habits and\nhabitat with the knowledge of the naturalist and the keenness of the\nsportsman, we might find that in his form and colour he does in his\nown peculiar fashion fitly express the purpose of his being. And\nwhatever adequately expresses a definite purpose is beautiful.\nWhere a dainty antelope would be altogether out of place, the\nponderous rhinoceros may be completely in his element. Where a\ntender-skinned horse would be driven mad by insects, the\nthick-skinned beast passes the time untroubled. In a drawing-room a\ndaintily-dressed lady is a vision of loveliness. In a ploughed field\nshe would look ridiculous. In a drawing-room a peasant would look\nuncouth. In a field, as Millet has shown us, he possesses a beauty,\ndignified and touching. It is not impossible, therefore, that an artist\nwho had the opportunity of entering into the life of a rhinoceros, as\nMillet had of entering into the life of a peasant, might discover\nbeauty even in that monstrosity. This, however, I allow is an\nextreme case.\n\nIn a less extreme case beauty has already been discovered. The bison\ndoes not at first sight strike us as a beautiful animal. Yet Mr.\nStebbing, the naturalist-sportsman, says that, as he caught sight of\none after a long stalk, and watched it with palpitating heart, he was\nfascinated by the grand sight--18 hands of coal-black beauty shining\nlike satin in the light filtering through the branches of the trees.\n\nWhen we move on from the bison to the stag the beauty is evident\nenough. A stag carries himself right royally, and has a rugged,\nmajestic beauty all his own. There are few more beautiful sights in\nthe animal world than that of a lordly stag standing tense with\npreparedness to turn swiftly, and, on the instant, bound away in any\ndirection.\n\nNot majestic like the great deer, but of a more airy grace and\ndaintiness, are the smaller deer and antelope. The lightness of their\ntread, their suppleness of movement, and their spring and litheness,\nfill us with delight.\n\n* * *\n\nWe now come to the crown of the animal kingdom--man. And in the\nSikkim Himalaya are to be found men of all the stages of civilisation\nfrom the most primitive to the most advanced. Inhabiting the forests\nat the foot of the mountains are certain jungle peoples of extreme\ninterest simply by reason of their primitiveness. They represent the\nvery early stages of man, and in observing them in their own haunts,\nwe shall understand something of the immensity and the delicacy of\nman's task in gaining his ascendancy in the animal world and\nacquiring a greater mastery over his surroundings.\n\nIn these forests teeming with animal life of all kinds man had to hold\nhis own against dangerous and stronger animals, and to supply\nhimself with food in the face of many rivals. He had to be as alert as\nthe sharpest-witted and as cunning as the most crafty, and to have\nphysical fitness and endurance to stand the strain of incessant rivalry.\nThis is what these jungle people have. Their alertness, their capacity\nto glide through the forest almost as stealthily as an animal, their\nkeenness of sight, their acute sense of hearing, their knowledge of\njungle lore and of the habits of animals, and their ability to stand\nlong and hard physical strain, are the envy of us civilised men when\nwe find ourselves among them. Particularly is this shown when\ntracking. They will note the slightest indication of the passage of the\nanimal they are after--the faintest footprint, a stone overturned and\nshowing the moisture on its under surface, a broken twig, a bitten\nleaf, the bark rubbed--and they will be able to judge from the exact\nappearance of these signs how long it is since the animal made them.\nThey will, too, detect sounds which we civilised men would\ncertainly never hear, and from a note of alarm in these sounds, or\nfrom excitement among birds, infer the presence of a dangerous\nanimal.\n\nWhen seen outside the forests these jungle men look wild and\nunkempt, but seen in their natural surroundings and compared\n_there_ with the white man, they have a Beauty which is wanting in\nthe white man. In _these_ surroundings they have a dignity and\ncomposure and assurance which the European lacks. They are on\ntheir own ground, and there they are beautiful.\n\nAnd these primitive men are worthy of being painted by the very\ngreatest of painters, and of having their praises sung by the very first\nof poets. For it is they and their like who, with only such weapons as\nthe forest affords and their own ingenuity devised, won the way\nthrough for us civilised men, won the battle against the fierce and\nmuch more powerful beasts around them, and by great daring and\nthrough sheer skill, courage, and endurance led the way to the light.\nIt was a marvellous feat. For all the privileges and immunities which\nwe men of to-day enjoy we have to thank these primitive forest men,\nand our gratitude could never be too great. They are deserving of the\nclosest attention and the warmest appreciation.\n\nNot many of these really primitive peoples are nowadays left in the\njungles. But the tea-gardens have attracted a primitive people, the\nSantals, who are typical of the true Dravidian stock of India--a jolly,\ncheerful, easy-going, and, on the whole, law-abiding, truthful, and\nhonest people who love a roaming life, with plenty of hunting and\nfishing.\n\nThe Lepchas of Sikkim have risen above the first primitive stage.\nThey clothe themselves well and dwell in well-built houses. They do\nnot possess for us the same essential interest as belongs to truly\nprimitive people. But on account of their intimate knowledge of the\nforest and its denizens, and by reason also of their being a\nremarkably simple, gentle, and likeable people, they have an\nunusual attraction for travellers. Hooker, who was one of the first to\nlive among them, and Claude White, who lived among them for\nmany years, both write of them in affectionate terms. They are\nchild-like and engaging, good-humoured, cheery and amiable, free and\nunrestrained. They have, too, a reputation for honesty and\ntruthfulness.\n\nMore vigorous, capable, and virile than the Lepchas are the\nNepalese, who, migrating from Nepal, are found in great numbers in\nthis region. They are more given to agriculture than the Lepchas,\nand are thrifty, industrious, and resourceful. Though excitable and\naggressive, they are also law-abiding.\n\nLess numerous but prominent inhabitants of this region are the\nBhutias, who consist of four classes; Bhutias, who are a mixed race\nof Tibetans and Lepchas; Sherpa Bhutias, who come from the east\nof Nepal, the word _sher_ merely meaning \"east\"; the Drukpa or\nDharma Bhutias, whose home is Bhutan; and the Tibetan Bhutias\nfrom Tibet. They are strong, sturdy men, merry and cheerful.\n\nThese Lepchas, Nepalese, and Bhutias are all of Mongolian origin,\nand therefore have the distinctively Mongolian appearance. But\nbesides these, in Darjiling and on the tea-gardens are to be found\nBengali clerks, Marwari merchants from Rajputana, Punjabi traders,\nHindustani mechanics, and Chinese carpenters. And in addition to\nall these are British Government officials, tea-planters, and a\ncontinual stream of visitors from all parts of Europe and America,\nwho come to Darjiling to view the snowy range.\n\nSo that in this small region may be found representatives of every\ngrade of civilisation and a great variety of types. And what an\namount of Beauty--as distinct from mere prettiness--there is to\ndiscover in even the rough local people may be seen from the\npictures of the Russian painter Verestchagin, engravings from which\nare given in his autobiographical sketches entitled \"Vassili\nVerestchagin.\" This great painter evidently succeeded in getting\ninside the wild peoples he loved; and his pictures reveal to us\nbeauties we might without them never have known. In these people's\ngait, their attitudes, their grouping, as well as in their features, he\nwas able to discern the hardihood, the patience, the impetuosity, the\ngentleness of their character, and portray it for us.\n\nPutting aside the obvious differences between us and them, we are\nable to detect our fundamental identity of nature, have a\nfellow-feeling with them, recognise sameness between us and so see their\nbeauty.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nTHE SUM IMPRESSION\n\nThe Artist has now to stand back and view the forest as a whole.\nAnd he must test his view in the light of reason--bring Truth to bear\nupon Beauty. The forest with its multitudinous and varied life,\nranging from simplest to most cultured man, is an epitome of Nature\nso far as she is manifested on this planet. And he will from this\nepitome try to get a view of the real character of Nature. As he takes\nstock of the impressions which have been made upon him, he will\nhave to form a conclusion of absolutely fundamental importance for\nthe enjoyment of Natural Beauty.\n\nMen's hearts instinctively go out to Nature, and in consequence they\nsee Beauty in her. As children they love flowers and love animals.\nAnd the most primitive races have the same feeling though they are\njust as callous in their treatment of animals as children are in their\ntreatment of one another. In the more cultured races this instinctive\nlove of Nature and appreciation of Natural Beauty has enormously\ndeveloped. But if men ever came to hold the idea--as so many since\nthe doctrine of the survival of the fittest has come into prominence\nare inclined to do--that Nature is at heart cold and hard, and recks\nnothing of human joys and sorrows, then love of Nature would fade\naway from men's hearts. Being out of sympathy and repelled from\nentering into deep communion with her, men would never again see\nBeauty in her. The enjoyment of Natural Beauty would pass from\nthem for ever.\n\nSo the Artist will try to get at the true Heart of Nature. If the\nNaturalist part of him tells him that at bottom Nature is merciless\nand unrelenting, utterly regardless of the things of most worth in life;\nthat Nature is indeed \"red in tooth and claw\"; that all she cares\nfor--all she selects as the fittest to survive--are the merely strongest,\nthe most pushing and aggressive, the individuals who will simply\ntrample down their neighbours in order that they themselves may\n\"survive\"; or if, again, the Naturalist convinces him that all he has\nseen in the forest has come about by pure chance; that it is by a mere\nfluke that we find orchids and not mushrooms, men and not\nmonkeys, at the head of plant and animal life; and that Nature\nherself is wholly indifferent as to which of the two establishes its\npreeminence--then he will feel the chill upon his soul, he will shrivel\nup within himself, the very fountain-spring of Beauty will be frozen\nup, and never again will he see Beauty in any single one of Nature's\nmanifestations.\n\nBut if, on the other hand, the Naturalist is able to convince the Artist\nthat in spite of the very evident struggle for existence Nature does\nnot care twopence whether the \"fittest\" survive or not so long as\nwhat is best in the end prevails; that far from things coming about by\nmere chance Nature has a distinct end in view, and that end the\naccomplishment of what he himself most prizes, then the heart of\nthe Artist will warm to the heart of Nature with a fervour it had\nnever known before; his heart will throb with her heart, and every\nbeauty he has seen in plain or mountain, in flower, bird, or man, will\nbe a hundredfold increased.\n\nWhich of these two views of Nature, so far as Nature can be judged\nfrom what we see of her on this planet, is correct, he has now to\ndetermine. The profound mystery which everywhere prevails in the\nforest and which exerts such a compelling spell upon us he will want\nto probe to the bottom. He will not be content with the outward\nprettiness of butterfly and orchid, or with the mere profusion and\nvariety of life, or with the colossal size of animals and trees. He will\nwant to burrow down and get at the very root and mainspring of this\nforest life. He will want to reach the very Heart of Nature here\nmanifested in such manifold variety. He will want to arrive at the\ninner significance of all this variety of life. Then only will he\nunderstand Nature and be able to decide whether Nature is cruel and\ntherefore to be feared, or kind and gracious and therefore to be loved.\n\n* * *\n\nNow, when we go into the forest and look into it in detail, the\nprofusion is even greater than we expected. In this damp tropical\nregion where there is ample heat and moisture, plant life comes\nspringing out of the earth with a prolificness which seems\ninexhaustible. And when plant life is abundant, animal and insect\nlife is abundant also. So profuse, indeed, is the output of living\nthings that it seems simply wasteful. A single tree may produce\nthousands of flowers. Each flower may have dozens of seeds. The\ntree may go on flowering for a hundred or two hundred years. So a\nsingle tree may produce millions of seeds, each capable of growing\ninto a forest giant like its parent.\n\nWith insect life the same profusion of life is evident. A single moth\nor butterfly lays thousands of eggs. Mosquitoes, flies, gnats, midges,\nleeches swarm in myriads upon myriads.\n\nThe abundance and superabundance of life is the first outstanding\n--though it will prove not the most important--impression made upon\nus by a contemplation of the forest as a whole.\n\n* * *\n\nScarcely less striking than the abundance is the variety. Life does\nnot spring up from the earth in forms as alike one another as two\npeas. Each individual plant or animal, however small, however\nsimple, has its own distinctive characteristics, There is variety and\nvariation everywhere. Variety in form, variety in colour, variety in\nsize, variety in character and habit. In size there is the difference\nbetween the huge _terminalia_ towering up 200 feet high and the\ntiny little potentilla; between the atlas moth 12 inches in spread and\nthe hardly discernible midges; between the elephant, massive\nenough to trample its way through the densest forest, and the\nhumble little mouse peeping out of its hole in the ground. In colour\nthe difference ranges from the light blue of the forget-me-not to the\ndeep blue of the gentian; from the delicate pink of the dianthus to\nthe deep crimson of the rhododendron; from the brilliant hues of the\norchids to the dull browns and greens of inconspicuous tree flowers;\nfrom the vivid light greens, yellows, and reds of the young leaves of\nthese tropical forests to the greyer green of their maturity; from the\nsmiting reds and blues of the most gaudy butterflies, beetles, and\ndragon-flies to the modest browns of night-flying moths; from the\ngorgeous colours of the parrots to the familiar black of crows; from\nthe yellow-striped tiger to the earth-coloured hare; from the\ndark-skinned aborigine to the yellow-skinned Mongolian and the fair\nEuropean. Similarly do plants and animals vary in form: from the\nstraight pines and palms to the spreading, umbrageous oaks and\nlaurels; from upstanding lilies to parasitical orchids; from monstrous\nspiky beetles to symmetrical dragon-flies; from ungainly rhinoceros\nto graceful antelope; from short, sturdy Bhutias to tall, slim\nHindustanis. Likewise in character individuals are as different as the\nstrong, firm tree standing open-faced, four-square to all the world\nand the creeping, insinuating parasite; as the intelligent, industrious\nant and the clumsy, plodding beetle; as the plucky boar and the timid\nhare; as the rough forest tribesman and the cultured Bengali.\n\nLastly, there is variety among not only the different species of plants,\nanimals, insects, etc., but also the individuals of the same species.\nWe ourselves know the differences there are between one man and\nanother, and as far as that goes between ourselves on one day and\nourselves on the next. Each plant--and still more each animal--has\nits own unique individuality. Every cavalry officer, every shepherd,\nevery dog-owner, every pigeon-fancier knows that each horse, sheep,\ndog, pigeon has its own individuality and is distinctly different from\nall others of its kind. And so does every gardener know that each\nrose, each tulip, each pansy is different from all other roses, tulips,\nand pansies. It is the same in the forest. Hardly two trees or plants of\nthe same species develop their young leaves, open their flowers,\nripen their seeds, and drop their leaves at the same time. Apart from\nthe size of the flower and leaf there are differences in colour, shape,\nand marking. Each in appearance and in habit has an individuality of\nits own.\n\nSuch is the variety in the abundant life of the forest that no two\nindividuals, no two blades of grass, or no two leaves are in every\ndetail precisely alike. And this is the second outstanding impression\nwe receive.\n\n* * *\n\nThe abundance and variety of life are evident enough. Not so\nevident but equally noteworthy is the intensity. In the still forest one\nof the giant trees looks utterly impassive and immobile. It stands\nthere calm and unmoved. Not a leaf stirs. Yet the whole and every\nminutest part of it is instinct with intensest life. It is made up of\ncountless microscopic cells in unceasing activity. Highly sensitive\nand mobile cells form the root-tips and insinuate their way into\nevery crevice in search of food for the tree, rejecting what is\nunpalatable and forwarding what is useful for building up and\nsustaining the monarch. Other cells take in necessary food from the\nair. Others build up the trunk and its protective bark. Others, and\nmost important of all, go to make up the flowers of the tree and the\norgans of reproduction which enable the tree to propagate its kind.\n\nAll this activity of the separate cells and combinations of cells is\ntaking place. And in addition there is that activity of them all in their\ntogetherness, that activity which keeps the cells together, and which\nif relaxed for a moment would mean that the cells would all collapse\nas the grains of dust in an eddying dust-devil at a street corner\ncollapse once the gust of wind which stirred them and keeps them\ntogether drops away. What must be the intensity of life required to\ndevelop the tree from the seed and to rear that giant straight up from\nthe level soil 200 feet into the air and maintain it there two hundred\nyears, we can only imagine; for to outward appearance the tree is\nquite impassive. It does not move a muscle of its face to reveal the\nintensity of life within.\n\nThe tree is characteristic of every living thing. Every plant and every\nanimal, however seemingly sluggish, is working to fulfil its life, to\nnourish itself, to reproduce its kind.\n\n* * *\n\nNow, the amount of air and sunshine for plants may be practically\nunlimited, but air and sunshine are not all that plants require. They\nwant soil and moisture as well. And the standing-room for plants is\nstrictly limited. The forest stretches away up to the snows; but there\nit stops. Necessarily, therefore, there must be the keenest and most\nincessant struggle among the plants for standing-room. Only a\ncomparatively few can be accommodated. The rest cannot survive.\nAnd as the number of plants which can survive is thus limited, the\nnumber of animals is limited also, for animals are dependent on\nplants. Plants, therefore, in spite of their eminently pacific\nappearance are engaged in a fierce struggle with one another for\nstanding-room. And animals are likewise engaged in a struggle\namong themselves for the plants.\n\nThere is competition among the roots of the different individual\nplants for the food and water of the soil. And there is competition\namong the leaves for the sunlight. Each plant is pushing its roots\ndownwards and spreading outward for more food and to root itself\nmore firmly. Each is straining upward to receive more sunlight.\nEach is struggling with its fellows for room and means to develop its\nlife. Competitors in hundreds and thousands are forced to withdraw\nand succumb. And even when a forest giant has defeated all\ncompetitors and reached its full maturity it has still to maintain the\nstruggle and hold its own continually against other individuals\nwhose roots are reaching out below and whose branches are\nspreading out above; against climbers who would smother it; and\nagainst parasites who would suck its very life-blood. The battle,\nmoreover, is often not so much between one species and another\nspecies as between individuals of the same species. And it is a war\nwhich continues through life.\n\nThe struggle for existence among the plants and trees is keen beyond\nimagination. And the struggle among the insects, birds and beasts,\nand man for the plants and products of the trees is no less severe. So\nnow our impression is that of an abundant, varied and intense life in\nwhich the individuals are perpetually struggling with one another for\nbare existence.\n\n* * *\n\nUnder these stringent and stressful conditions does each living being\ncome into the world. He has to battle his way through--or succumb.\nPlants as well as men, and men as well as plants. So, as we look into\nthe structure of animals and plants, we are not surprised to find that\nin order to cope with their surroundings they have developed organs\nwhich are specially adapted to enable them to secure the needful\nfood, to hold their own against the competition of their neighbours,\nto meet the exigencies of their surroundings, and to pursue their own\nlife to the full extent of its possibilities. Even plants are like sentient\nbeings in this respect. The sensitive tips of their roots are organs\nadmirably adapted for feeling their way through the soil and\nselecting from its constituents what will best nourish the plant. The\nleaves opening out to the air and sunshine are other organs adapted\nfor gathering in nourishment. And thorns and poisonous juices are\nmeans adapted to fend off destructive neighbours. The eyes and ears\nin animals are other instances of organs which enable them to see\nwhat will serve them as food, or to hear what may be possible\nenemies, and to make use of what will help them to the proper\nfulfilment of their life.\n\nWe see each individual plant and animal striving to the best of his\nability to adjust himself to the conditions in which he finds himself,\ntrying to adapt himself to his surroundings--to his physical\nsurroundings, such as the climate and soil, and to his social\nsurroundings, consisting of his plant and animal neighbours and\nrivals. We shall probably notice, too, that he seems to be driven by\nsome inner impulse (which in its turn is a responding to the impress\nof the totality of the individual's surroundings) to strive to do\nsomething more than merely adapt himself to his surroundings. He\nis urged on to rise superior to them.\n\nSo the course of the individual's life is continually being affected by\nsurroundings which compel him to adapt himself to them on pain of\nextinction if he fails. On the other hand, he is himself, in his own\nsmall way, affecting his surroundings and causing _them_ to adapt\nthemselves to _him._ Even the humblest plant takes from the\nsurrounding soil and air what it needs as food and changes it in the\nprocess of assimilation, so that the surroundings are, to a slight\nextent at least, changed by the activity of the plant. And we already\nhave noticed how a plant's insect surroundings have to adapt\nthemselves to the plant. There is reciprocal action, therefore--the\nsurroundings forcing the individual to adapt himself to them, and the\nindividual causing the surroundings to adapt themselves to him.\n\nHere we have reached the point where, besides the struggle for\nexistence among the individuals of an abundant, varied, and intense\nlife, there is adaptation among the individuals to their surroundings\nand of their surroundings to the individuals.\n\n* * *\n\nWe have now to note how with the adaptation goes selection. Set\namid these physical and organic surroundings, some helpful, some\nharmful, the individual has to spend his life in selecting and\nrejecting what will further or hinder his natural development. He has\nto reject much, for there is much that will harm him. He has to select\na little--for that little is vitally necessary for his upbuilding and\nmaintenance. From among the elements of the soil he has to choose\nthose particular elements that he needs. Thus a plant selects through\nits roots from the elements of the soil, and through its leaves from\nthe elements of the air, those elements and in those quantities that it\nneeds for nourishment and growth. But it has also, by means of\nthorns or poison juices or other device, to protect itself from being\nitself selected by some animal for that animal's own nourishment\nand growth.\n\nSo the individual is constantly selecting, and is as constantly on the\nguard against being selected. The principle of selection among the\nabundant and varied life is in continual operation. And unless he\nselects wisely he will not survive; for he will either have insufficient\nto live on or else have what is harmful to his life. Nor will he\nsurvive unless he is able to fend off those who would select him for\ntheir own maintenance. There is selection everywhere--selection\n_by_ the individual and selection _of_ the individual by surrounding\nneighbours and circumstances.\n\n* * *\n\nThus far we have only recapitulated what most men are familiar\nwith since Darwin commenced preaching the doctrine of Evolution\nby Natural Selection sixty years ago. But the Naturalist-Artist of the\nfuture will probably not be content with the conclusion to which so\nmany jump that all that Nature teaches or expects of individuals\n--plants, beasts, or men--is that they should adapt themselves to their\nsurroundings and fit themselves to survive; that all Nature has at\nheart is adaptability of individuals to their surroundings and\ntheir fitness to survive. The lowly amoeba can perform these\nunenterprising functions more fitly than himself. And the Artist\nwould never be satisfied with so mean and meagre an ambition as\nmerely to adapt himself to his surroundings and fit himself to\nsurvive. If he saw evidence of no higher expectation than that in the\nworkings of Nature, his heart would certainly not cleave to her heart.\nAnd there being estrangement and coolness between his heart and\nhers, he would see no Beauty in Nature and his pursuit of Natural\nBeauty might here end.\n\nBut an instinct within him tells him that this cannot be the last word\nas to Nature's character and methods. He himself is constantly\nrisking his life with no thought of trying to survive, and he sees his\nneighbours doing the same. And his inclination is to go a good deal\nfarther than tamely adapting himself to his surroundings. He wants\nand strives to rise superior to them--and he finds his neighbours\nlikewise striving. So with this instinct goading him on he is driven to\nprobe deeper still into the mystery of the forest life.\n\n* * *\n\nOf selection and adaptation we have seen evidence throughout the\nwhole forest life. Now, where there is selection and where there is\nadaptation there must be _purposiveness._ Selection implies the\npower of choice, and we have seen how plants as well as animals\ndeliberately and effectively exercise this power of choice. And\nadaptation implies adjustment to an end, and we have seen how\nwonderfully plants no less than animals adapt themselves to certain\nends. And where individuals have the power of choice and exercise\nthat power; and where they have the power of adapting themselves\nto certain ends and exercise that power, there obviously is\npurposiveness.\n\nPurposiveness runs like a streak through every activity. It permeates\nthe whole forest life. It is observable in plants no less than in\nanimals. Naturalists, indeed, regard trees and plants as truly sentient\nbeings. And the means plants employ to compass the end they have\nin view, are truly wonderful. Still more remarkable is the fact that\nhardly two attain their object by exactly the same means. The\ntropical forest is full of climbing plants bent upon reaching the\nsunlight. But some climb by coiling round the trunk of a tree like a\nsnake, some swarm up it by holding on with claws, some ascend by\nmeans of adhering aerial roots, and some reach what they want by\npushing through a tangle of branches spreading out arms and\nhauling themselves up. And when plants have attained maturity and\nflowered, the flowers employ numberless ways of attracting insects\nfor the purpose of fertilisation. In a still, tropical forest, such as that\nof Lower Sikkim, there is no hope of the pollen being carried from\none flower to another by air-currents. The flowers have therefore to\ndevise a means for the transport of the pollen. Efforts are made to\ninduce winged creatures--insects in most cases, but sometimes\nbirds--to render assistance. Colours for day-flying insects and scent for\nnight-flying insects are accordingly employed as means to this end.\nBrilliant colours attract butterflies and bees by day. Strong scent\n--sometimes pleasant to our taste, sometimes the reverse--attracts\nmoths and other insects by night. And the flowers which depend on\ntheir scents and not on colour are usually white or dull brown or\ngreen. And this scent is not exhaled when it is not needed, but only\nwhen the insects which the flowers wish to attract are about.\n\nOrchids especially seem to _know_ what they want. Their aerial\nroots wander about in search of what they want and seem to smell\ntheir way. They use discrimination in utilising their knowledge.\nThey _choose._ And each individual seems to choose in its own way.\nFrom among many means of achieving the same end they make a\ndefinite choice, and different plants make different choices--they use\ndifferent means.\n\nPlants, therefore, quite evidently employ means to an end. They\nhave an end in view--sometimes their own maintenance, sometimes\nthe perpetuation of their kind, sometimes something else--and they\nemploy means to achieve that end. They are, that is to say,\n_purposive_ in their nature.\n\n* * *\n\nEvidence of purposiveness is also furnished by the wonderful organs\nof adaptation, root-tips, leaves, eyes, lungs, etc. It is extremely\nimprobable that they came into being--or even started to come into\nbeing--by mere chance alone. The odds are countless millions to one\nagainst the atoms, molecules, and cells--myriads in number--of any\none of these organs of adaptation having by mere chance grouped\nthemselves in such a way as to form an effective eye, or lung, or leaf.\nIt is, literally speaking, infinitely improbable that the organs of\nadaptation we see in a forest, in plant and animal, should have come\ninto existence through chance alone.\n\nThe organs of adaptation are distinctly and definitely purposive\nstructures--not purposed, perhaps, but certainly purposeful. In its\nstruggle with its surroundings and with competitors the individual\nhas been compelled to bring into being organs to fulfil a purpose. It\nis not the case that the organ was first created and then a use found\nfor it, or use made of it. What actually happens is that first there is a\nvague but insistent reaching out towards an end, towards the\nfulfilment of some inner want or need--the need for food or to\npropagate, or whatever it may be--and that to achieve that end, or\nfulfil that need, the individual is driven to create a special\norganisation--as an Air Ministry was created during the War to fulfil\nthe new need for fighting in the air--and so a new organ is produced:\nan essentially purposive structure such as the eye or the lung, though\nunpurposed before the need arose. The organs we see, therefore, are\noutward and visible signs of the existence within of a definite\nstriving towards an end--that is, of a purpose.\n\nThe forest shows an abundant, varied, and intense life in which\nindividuals are for ever battling with one another. But all is not\nhappening by chance. Everywhere we see signs of purposiveness.\nPurposiveness--the striving towards an end--stands out as a\ndominating feature in forest life. Selections and adaptations are\nmade, but they are made with some purpose in view. Purpose\ngoverns the adaptations and selections. What that purpose is we\nshall try and discover as we get to know still more of Nature.\n\n* * *\n\nSo far we have been observing individuals as separate individuals.\nNow we must look at them gathered together as a whole. And the\nfirst point we note is that though each individual has his own unique\nindividuality, whether he be plant or man, all are kept together as a\nsingle whole. We have seen the individuals battling with one another,\ncompeting with one another, struggling against one another. But that\nis only one side of the picture. Just as remarkable as the way in\nwhich they have to resist one another is the way in which they\ndepend on one another. Their interdependence is, therefore, the\npoint we have now to note.\n\nSince Darwin drew our attention to the struggle for existence and\nsurvival of the fittest, the perpetual strife in Nature has been clear\nenough. But hard, selfish, cruel, brutal though the struggle\nfrequently is, though the strong will often trample mercilessly on the\nweak and let the unfit go to the wall without any consideration\nwhatever; yet the very strongest and fittest individual could not\nsurvive for a moment by itself alone. And what is just as remarkable\nas the struggle between individuals is their dependence upon one\nanother.\n\nAll plants depend upon the natural elements--the soil, water, air, and\nlight. Animals depend on plants. And many animals depend upon\nother animals. A forest tree in its maturity is covered with blossoms,\nsome conspicuous, others inconspicuous to sight, but very\nconspicuous to smell. These blossoms, either by sight or scent,\nattract butterflies, bees, moths, and other insects to sip their nectar,\nand in so doing carry away the pollen of the flowers, and\nunwittingly pass it on to another flower and fertilise it. The insect\nthus enables the tree to procreate its species. But the butterfly, after\nsipping the nectar of the flower of the tree, deposits its eggs on the\nunder surface of the leaves, and the leaves give nourishment to the\ncaterpillars into which these eggs develop. Besides this, the flowers,\nhaving been fertilised by the insects, develop into fruits or berries\ncontaining seeds; and these fruits, berries, and seeds form food for\nmonkeys, birds, bats, and rodents. In quarrelling for these many are\ndropped and form food for mice and others below. Birds, finding\nfood so near, pair, build their nests, and bring up their young in its\nbranches. And in addition to the birds which are attracted by the\nberries, fruits, and seeds, other birds which are attracted by the\ncaterpillars come there and build their nests. Without the flowers the\nbees would be starved; without the bees or other insects the flowers\nwould not be fertilised and the tree would not perpetuate itself.[*]\n\n[*] I take this illustration from Rodway's \"In the Guiana Forest.\" It\napplies equally to any tropical forest.\n\nThe lives of all individuals, whether plants, beasts, or men, are thus\ncuriously interwoven with and interdependent on one another. They\nare also dependent upon the chemical elements in the soil and air.\nAnd even then the dependence does not cease, for they depend, too,\nupon the light and heat from the Sun. And the Sun itself, and this\nEarth as well, are subtly connected with the whole Stellar Universe.\n\nIt is only within limits that any individual can be regarded as a\ndistinct and separate entity. It has its own unique individuality, it is\ntrue. But it is also connected with all the rest of the forest and with\nall the rest of the Earth, of the Solar System, and of the Universe.\nEach individual is to _some_ extent dependent upon all other\nindividuals. All influence and are influenced by all the rest. There is\nmutual influence everywhere. And all are connected in a whole--the\nwhole influencing each individual and each individual influencing\nthe whole.\n\nSo besides the resistance of individuals to one another, there is\nattraction. Besides conflict there is co-operation. Besides\nindependence there is interdependence.\n\nThe life of the forest thus forms a whole. Individuals have their due\nallowance of freedom. But they are kept together in a whole.\nRunning through the individuals in their ensemble, binding them\ntogether, in spite of the tether they are allowed, must therefore be\nsome kind of Organising Activity. We cannot look into that\nmarvellous forest life without seeing that at the back of it, working\nall the way through it, controlling, guiding, inspiring every\nmovement, is some dominating Activity, which, while allowing\nindividuals freedom for experimenting by the process of trial and\nerror, yet keeps them all bound together as a whole. And when we\nnote the evidence of purposiveness everywhere so abundant, we\ncannot resist the conclusion that this Activity also gives _direction._\n\nIt is not necessary to suppose that this Activity emanates from any\nthing or person _outside_ Nature. It may perfectly well exercise its\ncontrol and guidance from within--just as the activity which is \"I\"\ncontrols, consciously or unconsciously, directly or indirectly, the\nmovements and actions of every particle of which \"my\" body is\nmade up. But what we cannot but assume is that throughout this\nprolific and marvellously varied forest life, through every tiny plant\nand every forest giant, through every leaf and petal, through each\nlittle insect and every bird and butterfly, through the wild beasts of\nthe jungle, the wary forest folk, and the most cultured men--through\neach and all and the whole in its collectedness there runs some kind\nof unifying Activity, holding the whole together, ordering all,\ndominating all, directing all--just as the orchid-spirit holds together\nand directs the activities of each particle which goes to make up the\norchid; or the eagle-spirit directs the activities of each particle which\ngoes to make up the eagle.\n\nSuffusing the whole, embracing the whole, permeating each single\nmember of the whole, there must be an organising and directing\nActivity, or we should not see the order and purposiveness we do.\n\nWe shall now see that this Organising Activity gives not only\ndirection, but an _upward_ direction to the whole which it controls.\n\n* * *\n\nWe have already noted that among individuals the variety is such\nthat no two are exactly alike. Each individual, however nearly alike,\nvaries in some slight degree from every other. And new variations\nare constantly being created. Now we have to note that besides\nvariation there is _gradation._ There is a _scale_ of being. And\nindividuals are graded on that scale. One is higher than another.\n\nAs there are gradations in height from the plains to the outlying\nspurs of the Himalaya, and from these again to the higher ridges,\nand from these on to the great mountains, and finally to\nKinchinjunga and Mount Everest; and as there are gradations in size\nfrom tiny plants to the giant trees; so there are gradations in worth\nand value from the simple lichen or moss to the highly complex\norchid; from the microscopic animalculae of a stagnant pond to\nmonkeys and men; from simple primitive men to the highly cultured\nBengali; and from the simple Bengali villager to the poet\nRabindranath Tagore. Everywhere there is scale, gradation, grade.\nThe differences between individuals is not on the level but on\nascending stages. Even in very primitive communities, where all\nmen are equal to the extent that there are no formal chiefs, one or\ntwo men always stand out pre-eminently above the rest, above the\nyounger, the less skilful, the less experienced.\n\nThere is variation everywhere, and wherever there is variation there\nis gradation. Living beings are no more exactly _equal_ than they\nare exactly _alike._ Either in proficiency, or in speed, or in strength,\nor in cunning, or in alertness, or in general worth, one is superior to\nthe other. We determine which is the faster horse by pitting one\nagainst the other in a race. We find out which is the superior boxer\nby making the two men fight each other. We find out which is the\ncleverest boy by testing him at an examination. We expect to\ndetermine which is the ablest political leader by making him submit\nhimself to a General Election. We decide which is the most beautiful\nrose or orchid by putting the various flowers before a committee of\njudges. It is seldom possible to say with strict accuracy which one\nindividual is superior to the other, and to arrange the various\nindividuals in their truly right place in the scale. But quite evidently\nwe do recognise the scale and recognise that theoretically it is\npossible to grade each individual on it, even though our practical\nmethods may be somewhat rough-and-ready.\n\nThis fact that gradation, as well as variation, exists is one of the\ngreat facts we have to note. For it indicates that the Organising\nActivity which keeps the individuals together is not keeping them\ntogether on a uniform dead level like the ocean, but is propelling\nthem upward like the mountain. The significance of this fact has not\nhitherto been adequately noted. We are for ever speaking of equality\nwhen there is no equality. We have never noted with sufficient\nattention that everywhere there are grades and degrees. But it is a\nfact which a contemplation of the forest indelibly impresses on us.\nAnd it is a most welcome and inspiring fact, for it gives us a vision\nof higher things and promotes a zealous emulation among us.\n\n* * *\n\nAnd the Organising Activity is not only upward-reaching, but\nforward-looking. It looks to the future. We have remarked how the\nindividuals strive and compete with one another in order to get food\nand air and light with which to nourish and maintain themselves.\nBut self-maintenance is not their only object. They seek to propagate\nthemselves--to perpetuate their kind. They even make provision for\ntheir offspring. They go further still and _sacrifice_ themselves that\ntheir offspring may flourish.\n\nHere again selfishness is not the last word. Even plants will make\nprovision for their offspring, and in the last resort will sacrifice\nthemselves that their offspring may survive. A plant will fight with\nits neighbours for the means wherewith to build itself up. But it will\nalso provide for more than mere maintenance. It will build up organs\nfor the purpose of propagating itself. Even ferns have their organs\nfor producing seeds. And many a plant will make a supreme effort to\nproduce offspring rather than die without having perpetuated its kind.\nAnd plants--and of course more markedly animals and men--do not\nstop with merely reproducing their kind. Besides devoting their\nenergies to propagation, they will deliberately make special\n_provision_ for their offspring; they will supply it with albumen and\nstarch. And many insects are not only indefatigable, but highly\nintelligent, in providing food for their young even before the young\nare hatched out. They do not lay their eggs on any plant at random,\nbut will wander for miles to find a plant on which their young can\nfeed, and they then lay their eggs on that plant. Individual plants,\ninsects, animals, or men may be frightfully selfish in their hard\nstruggle for existence, but the one thing in regard to which no\nindividual is selfish is in regard to its offspring. Primitive man,\nutterly callous about the sufferings of animals and of his own\nfellow-men and even of his wife, is tenderly careful of his child\nwhile it remains a child--and this is a very significant trait in his\ncharacter.\n\nHowever indifferent the individual may be to the sufferings of those\nabout him, he will make any sacrifice for his offspring. There is\nsome instinct within plants and animals alike which impels them to\nsacrifice themselves that their kind may continue.\n\nSo that Activity which is at the source of all life, and is keeping\nliving things together in an interconnected whole, not only forces\nthem upward in the scale of being, but is also driving them to look\nforward into the future, to provide for the future--and, indeed, to\nmake the future better than the present.\n\n* * *\n\nThis seems to be the way--judging by what we see in the forest--the\nActivity works. Things have I not come to be as they are by the\nslap-dash, irresponsible, unregulated methods of mere chance. We cannot\nfail to see that chance does play _some_ part. One seed from a tree\nmay fall into a rivulet and be swept away to the sea, while another\nmay be borne by a gust of wind, or by a bird, on to rich soil where\ncompetitors are few, and be able to grow up into a monarch of the\nforest, to live for a hundred years, and to give birth to thousands like\nitself. This is true. But chance will not produce the advancement and\nprogress which is observable. Chance will not produce a single one\nof those organs of adaptation we see in myriads in the forest. And\nchance would not have made the barren earth of a hundred million\nyears ago bring forth the plant, animal, and human life we see on it\nto-day.\n\nThe Activity does not work on the haphazard methods of pure\nchance. Nor, on the other hand, are its operations conducted in the\nrigid, mechanical method of a machine. Nor, again, can the result we\nsee be due to the working of blind physical and chemical processes\nalone. There is a great deal too much variety and spontaneity and\noriginality about. We could not possibly look upon the forest as a\nmachine--even of the most complicated kind. A machine goes\ngrinding round and round, producing things of exactly the same\npattern. Whereas no two things exactly alike are ever turned out in\nthe forest. And blind physical and chemical processes could by\n_themselves_--by themselves alone--never produce the novelties,\nthe entirely new and unique things, and things higher and higher in\nthe scale of being, which we see in the forest. Only a man\nimpervious to the teaching of common sense could suppose that the\ncare which plant, beast, and man alike show for their offspring could\nbe the result of bare physical and chemical processes without the\ninclusion with these processes of any other agency whatsoever.\n\nNor, on the other hand, do we see any signs of the forest being the\nresult of a preconceived plan gradually being worked out--as a\nbridge is gradually built up according to the previously thought out\nplan of the engineer. The carrying out of a plan means that in course\nof time the plan will be completed, and that each stage is a step\ntowards its completion. But in the forest life there is no sign of any\nbeginning of an approach towards the completion of a plan. There is\nno tendency to a closing in. There is a reaching upward, it is true.\nBut there is also a splaying outward. One line leads up to man. But\nothers splay out to insects, birds, and elephants.\n\nAnother noticeable fact is that nowhere is perfection reached. If a\nplan were being worked we should expect to see the lower stages\n--like the foundations of the bridge--well and truly laid, incapable of\nimprovement. But no living being--neither the lowliest nor the\nhighest--is itself as a whole or in any one particular absolutely\nperfect. There is room for improvement everywhere. Most\nwonderful things we see. But not perfection. The eye is a wonderful\nthing. But an oculist would point out defects in even the best.\n\nAnd if it be argued that there has not been sufficient time yet to\nwork out a plan, the reply is that there has been infinite time. Time\nis infinite. If the Activity were merely working out a plan, the plan\nwould have been completed ages ago.\n\nSo the Organising Activity which we see must be working at the\nback of things, keeping all the separate individuals together in a\nconnected whole, not only preserves the strictest order among them,\nbut grants them freedom, stimulates emulation among them, inspires\nthem to reach upward and to look into and provide for the future.\nSuch an Activity is no mere mechanical activity. It is a purposive\nActivity. It is an essentially _spiritual_ Activity. Spirit is not the\ncasual flash flaming up from the working of blind physical and\nchemical forces. Spirit dominates these blind forces. Spirit is a true\ndetermining factor in the whole process. Spirit is at the root and\nsource and permeates the whole.\n\nThis Spiritual Activity is what in ordinary language we speak of as\n\"the Spirit of Nature,\" and emanates from the Heart of Nature.\n\n* * *\n\nWhen, therefore, our Artist sums up his impressions of Nature as\nepitomised in the life of the forest; when he has been able to feel\nthat he has, as it were, got inside the skin of Nature, entered into her\nSpirit and really understood her--as the artist-midge we have\nreferred to would enter into the nature of a man and try and\nunderstand him--he will probably find that Nature works in very\nmuch the same way as he himself works, and is of much the same\ncharacter as himself.\n\nThe Artist will observe that Nature neither works by mere chance,\ntossing up at each turning whether she shall go to the right or to the\nleft, and quite indifferent as to which way she takes; nor in the set\nand rigid manner of a machine; nor yet, again, in the cut-and-dried\nfashion which the execution of a previously conceived plan implies.\nOrder everywhere the Artist will have observed. But order need not\nmean woodenness and machinery. Order is simply the absolutely\nessential prerequisite of any Freedom. And it is Freedom that the\nArtist everywhere observes. Nature is not closed in by the designed\noverarch of an eventually-to-be-completed plan. The zenith and\nhorizon are always open. There is always order, but there is scope\nillimitable for Nature's workings.\n\nSo the sum impression the Artist will probably receive is that Nature\nis in her essential character an Artist like himself--that she creates\nand goes on creating, just as he creates and goes on creating. A\npainter who is a true artist and not a mere copyist paints \"out of his\nhead,\" as the saying goes, pictures which are true creations\n--something new and unique, though founded on and related to the\npre-existing. And there is no limit to the pictures he might paint out\nof his head. He is not tied down in advance by any preconceived\nplan. According as he is roused and stirred by the complex life\naround him, he could--if he were physically able--go on for ever\npainting picture after picture, each a new creation. In the same way a\npoet could go on writing poems. The poet does not turn out poems\nlike a machine turns out pins, each like the other. He is not tied\ndown to what he writes. He writes out of his own heart what he likes.\nAnd he does not and _could_ not turn out two poems exactly the\nsame. Nor does he write according to plan as the bridge-builder\nworks according to the plan of the engineer. He works as he goes.\nHe works by spontaneous creativeness. He is utterly original--a true\ncreator. And even so will our Artist hold that Nature works.\n\nThe letters of Nature's alphabet which the Artist sees in the forest\nare not in the places they are either through mere chance or\naccording to a definitely prepared plan. The letters form words, the\nwords form lines, and the lines form poems. The Artist reads\nthe words and understands the meaning of the poems, and so\nunderstands the character of the Poet--the Poet whose name is\nNature. But the Artist knows that the words and lines and poems he\nsees in the forest are there as spontaneous creations from the mind\nof Nature as poems arise in his own mind. And he knows that\nNature could go on--and must go on--creating these poems, painting\nthese pictures, for ever and ever.\n\nNature will, indeed, work to an end as an Artist works to an end.\nNature has purposiveness as an Artist has purposiveness. But that\nend is something which Nature, like the Artist, is always revising,\nre-creating, improving, perfecting. An Artist has the general end of\ncreating Beauty, but he is always striving to enrich and intensify it,\nto create it in greater and greater perfection. And even so does\nNature work.\n\n* * *\n\nAs the Artist puts himself in touch with the Heart of Nature, the\ndominant impression he receives is of Nature ever straining after\nhigher, perfection, ever striving to achieve a greater excellence, and\ncreate beings with higher and higher, modes of life. He sees her\nstraining upward in the mountain, in the trees, in the climbers on the\ntrees, in every blade of grass. He sees the whole of life, straining to\nachieve higher and higher forms, more perfect flowers, more\nintelligent animals, more spiritual men. He sees the life of the seas\nstretching up out of the seas on to the land. He sees the life of the\nland striving to reach the highest points on the land. And he sees it\nalso soaring up into the air and making itself at home there, too.\nEverywhere he sees evidence of aspiration and upward effort.\n\nBut he notes also that with this upward effort there goes a downward\npull. The mountain strives upward, but it is drawn down by the\nforces of gravitation. The eagle soars up in the sky, but has to come\ndown to earth to rest and feed. The poet aspires to heaven, but has to\nstop on earth and earn his daily bread.\n\nNature, like himself, the Artist finds, is engaged in a constant\nstruggle between an impulse to excentration and the necessity for\nconcentration. She wants to fly off to the zenith and to the horizon,\nbut is continually being drawn into the centre. She wants to let\nherself go, but has to keep herself in. And all this is to the good. For\nthe necessity for concentration only serves to strengthen and refine\nher aspiration. And the net result is higher and higher perfection.\nShe cannot rise any higher in a mountain, so she rises in a higher\nform in a tree. She cannot rise any higher in a tree, so she rises in\nhigher form in an orchid. She cannot rise any higher in an orchid, so\nshe rises in higher form in a man. She cannot rise any higher in man\nas an intelligent animal, so she rises in higher form in man as a\nspiritual being, capable of spiritual appreciation and of spiritual\ncommunion with her.\n\nThe gravitation to a centre--the necessity for concentration--does not\nsuppress and crush the aspiration of Nature; it only serves to compel\nthe aspiration to refine and perfect itself.\n\nIn this spirit of aspiration checked by concentration the Artist will\nsurely find what is after his own heart. He will recognise that what is\ngoing on in Nature is the same as what goes on in his own heart. He\nand Nature have a common aspiration. As he aspires but has to\nconcentrate, so does Nature aspire but has to concentrate. As he\nworks, so does Nature work. What he aims at, that also does Nature\naim at. And when the Naturalist within him convinces him that, so\nfar as forest life reveals it, this is Nature's manner and this is\nNature's end, then his heart goes out to the Heart of Nature, his heart\nand her heart become one; and from that community of heart Beauty\nunending springs.\n\nHe will without reserve or hesitation be able to throw his whole\nheart into the enjoyment of Natural Beauty in a way that would have\nbeen utterly impossible if he had had to come to the conclusion that\nNature cared only for the brutally fittest, wholly irrespective of their\nworth, or that Nature was at the mercy of chance and had no wish,\nintention, or power to make good prevail over ill. And with his\ninstinctive love of Natural Beauty thus confirmed and strengthened\nby this testing of his instinct against what cool reasoning on the facts\nrevealed by observation in the forest had to say about it, he can with\nlightened heart search still further into Nature, and see her in higher,\nwider, deeper aspects than the forest alone can disclose.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nKINCHINJUNGA\n\nAspiration is the root sentiment at the Heart of Nature as she\nmanifests herself in the forest--aspiration upward checked by\nconcentration upon the inmost centre. And the very emblem of the\naspiration of Nature kept in hand and under control is to be found in\nthat proud pinnacle of the Sikkim Himalaya, Kinchinjunga, as it is\nseen from Darjiling rising from amidst the rich tropical forests\nwhich clothe its base. To Darjiling, therefore, we should be wise to\ngo.\n\nTo reach it we must ascend the slopes of the outer ranges which rise\nabruptly from the plains. A giant forest now replaces the stunted and\nbushy timber of the Terai proper and clothes the steep mountain-sides\nwith dense, deep-green, dripping vegetation. The trees are of\ngreat height, and are sheathed and festooned with climbing plants of\nmany kinds. Bauhinias and robinias, like huge cables, join tree to\ntree. Peppers, vines, and convolvulus twine themselves round the\ntrunks and branches, and hang in graceful pendants from the boughs.\nAnd the trees, besides being hung with climbers, are also decked\nwith orchids and with foliaceous lichens and mosses. The wild\nbanana with its crown of glistening leaves is everywhere\nconspicuous. Bamboos shoot up through the undergrowth to a\nhundred feet or more in height. The fallen trees are richly clothed\nwith ferns typical of the hottest and dampest climates. And\ndendrobiums and other orchids fasten on the branches.\n\n* * *\n\nAt Kurseong there is another striking change, for the vegetation now\nbecomes more characteristic of the temperate zone. The spring here\nvividly recalls the spring in England. Oaks of a noble species and\nmagnificent foliage are flowering and the birch bursting into leaf.\nThe violet, strawberry, maple, geranium, and bramble appear, and\nmosses and lichens carpet the banks and roadsides. But the species\nof these plants differ from their European prototypes, and are\naccompanied at this elevation (and for 2,000 feet higher up) with\ntree ferns forty feet in height, bananas, palms, figs, pepper, numbers\nof epiphytal orchids, and similar genuine tropical genera.\n\nFrom Kurseong we ascend through a magnificent forest of chestnut,\nwalnut, oaks, and laurels. Hooker, when he subsequently visited the\nKhasia Hills in Assam, said that though the subtropical scenery on\nthe outer Himalaya was on a much more gigantic scale, it was not\ncomparable in beauty and luxuriance with the really tropical\nvegetation induced by the hot, damp, and insular climate of those\nperennially humid Khasia Hills. The forest of gigantic trees on the\nHimalaya, many of them deciduous, appear from a distance as\nmasses of dark grey foliage, clothing mountains 10,000 feet high.\nWhereas in the Khasia Hills the individual trees are smaller, more\nvaried in kind, of a brilliant green, and contrast with grey limestone\nand red sandstone rocks. Still, even of the forest between Kurseong\nand Darjiling, Hooker says that it is difficult to conceive a grander\nmass of vegetation--the straight shafts of the timber trees shooting\naloft, some naked and clean with grey, pale, or brown bark; others\nliterally clothed for yards with a continuous garment of epiphytes\n(air-plants), one mass of blossoms, especially the white orchids,\ncoelogynes, which, bloom in a profuse manner, whitening their\ntrunks like snow. More bulky trunks bear masses of interlacing\nclimbers--vines, hydrangea, and peppers. And often the supporting\ntree has long ago decayed away and their climbers now enclose a\nhollow. Perpetual moisture nourishes this dripping forest, and\npendulous mosses and lichens are met with in profusion.\n\nFor this forest life, however, we cannot at present spare the attention\nthat is its due, for we want above all things to see the mountains on\nthe far side of this outer ridge. Tropical forests may be seen in many\nother parts of the world. But only here on all the Earth can we see\nmountains on so magnificent a scale. So we do not pause, but cross\nthe ridge and come to the slopes and spurs which face northward,\naway from the plains and towards the main range of the Himalaya.\n\nHere is situated Darjiling, which ought to be set apart as a sacred\nplace of pilgrimage for all the world. Directly facing the snowy\nrange and set in the midst of a vast forest of oaks and laurels,\nrhododendrons, magnolias, and camellias, the branches and trunks\nof which are festooned with vines and smilax and covered with ferns\nand orchids, and at the base of which grow violets, lobelias, and\ngeraniums, with berberries, brambles, and hydrangeas--it is adapted\nas few other places are for the contemplation of Nature's Beauty in\nits most splendid aspects.\n\nIts only disadvantage is that it is so continually shrouded in mist.\nThe range on which it stands being the first range against which the\nmoisture-laden currents from the Bay of Bengal strike, the rainfall is\nvery heavy and amounts to 140 or 160 inches in the year. And even\nwhen rain is not actually falling there is much cloud hanging about\nthe mountains. So the traveller cannot count upon seeing the snows.\nThere is no certainty that as he tops the ridge or turns the corner he\nwill see Kinchinjunga in the full blaze of its glory. He cannot be as\nsure of seeing it as he is of seeing a picture on entering a gallery.\nDuring the month of November alone is there a reasonable surety.\nAll the rest of the year he must take his chance and possess his soul\nin patience till the mountain is graciously pleased to reveal herself.\n\nPerhaps because of the uncertainty of seeing Kinchinjunga the view\nwhen it is seen is all the more impressive. The traveller waits for\nhours and days, even for only a glimpse. One minute's sight of the\nmountains would satisfy him. But still the clouds eddy about in\nfleecy billows wholly obscuring the mountains. Six thousand feet\nbelow may now and then be seen the silver streak of the Rangit\nRiver and forest-clad mountains beyond. Around him are dripping\nforests, each leaf glistening with freshest greenness, long mosses\nhanging from the boughs, and the most delicate ferns and noblest\norchids growing on the stems and branches. All is very beautiful, but\nit is the mountain he wants to see; and still the cloud-waves collect\nand disperse, throw out tender streamers and feelers, disappear and\ncollect again, but always keep a veil between him and the mountain.\n\nThen of a sudden there is a rent in the veil. Without an inkling of\nwhen it is to happen or what is to be revealed, those mists of infinite\nsoftness part asunder for a space. The traveller is told to look. He\nraises his eyes but sees nothing. He throws back his head to look\nhigher. Then indeed he sees, and as he sees he gasps. For a moment\nthe current of his being comes to a standstill. Then it rushes back in\none thrill of joy. Much he will have heard about Kinchinjunga\nbeforehand. Much he will remember of it if he has seen it before.\nBut neither the expectation nor the memory ever comes up to the\nreality. From that time, henceforth and for ever, his whole life is\nlifted to a higher plane.\n\nThrough the rent in the fleecy veil he sees clear and clean against the\nintense blue sky the snowy summit of Kinchinjunga, the culminating\npeak of lesser heights converging upward to it and all ethereal as\nspirit, white and pure in the sunshine, yet suffused with the\ndelicatest hues of blue and mauve and pink. It is a vision of colour\nand warmth and light--a heaven of beauty, love, and truth.\n\nBut what really thrills us is the thought that, incredibly high though\nit is, yet that heaven is part of earth, and may conceivably be\nattained by man. It is nearly double the height of Mont Blanc and\nmore than six times the height of Ben Nevis, but still it is rooted in\nearth and part of our own home. This is what causes the stir within\nus.\n\nHardly less striking than its height is its purity and serenity. The\nsubtle tints of colour and the brilliant sunlight dispel any coldness\nwe might feel, while the purity is still maintained. And the serenity\nis accentuated by the ceaseless movements of the eddying clouds\nthrough which the vision is seen. There is about Kinchinjunga the\ncalm and repose of stupendous upward effort successfully achieved.\n\nA sense of solemn elevation comes upon us as we view the\nmountain. We are uplifted. The entire scale of being is raised. Our\noutlook on life seems all at once to have been heightened. And not\nonly is there this sense of elevation: we seem purified also.\nMeanness, pettiness, paltriness seem to shrink away abashed at the\nsight of that radiant purity.\n\nThe mountain has made appeal to, and called forth from us all that is\nmost pure and most noble within us, and aroused our highest\naspirations. Our heart, therefore, goes out lovingly to it. We long to\nsee it again and again. We long to be always in a mood worthy of it.\nAnd we long to have that fineness of soul which would enable us to\nappreciate it still more fully. Glowing in the heart of the mountain is\nthe pure flame of undaunted aspiration, and it sets something aglow\nin our hearts also which burns there unquenchably for the rest of our\ndays. We see attainment of the I highest in the physical domain, and\nit stirs us to achieve the highest in the spiritual. Between ourselves\nand the mountain is the kinship of common effort towards high ends.\nAnd it is because of this kinship that we are able to see such lofty\nBeauty in the mountain.\n\nFor only a few minutes are we granted this heavenly vision. Then\nthe veil is drawn again. But in those few minutes we have received\nan impression which has gone right down into the depths of our soul\nand will last there for a lifetime.\n\n* * *\n\nOn other occasions the mountain is not so reserved, but reveals itself\nfor whole days in all its glory. The central range of the Himalaya\nwill be arrayed before us in its full majesty from one horizon to the\nother without a cloud to hide a single detail. We see the lesser\nranges rolling up, wave after wave, in higher and higher effort\ntowards the culminating line of peaks. And along this central line\nitself all the lesser heights we see converging on the supreme peak\nof Kinchinjunga. The scene, too, will be dazzling in the glorious\nsunshine and suffused with that purply-blue translucent atmosphere\nwhich gives to the whole a fairy-like, ethereal aspect.\n\nAnd on this occasion we have no hurried glimpse of the mountain.\nWe have ample time to contemplate it, looking at it, turning away\nfrom it to rest our souls from so deep an emotion, looking at it again,\ntime after time, till we have entered into its spirit and its spirit has\nentered into us. And always our eyes insensibly revert to the\nculminating-point--the summit of Kinchinjunga itself. We note all\nthe rich forest foreground, the deep valley beneath us, the\nverdure-covered subsidiary ranges, and the strong buttresses of the higher\npeaks. But our eyes do not linger there. They unconsciously raise\nthemselves beyond them to the summit ridge. Nor do we look long\non the distant peaks on either hand. They are over 24,000 feet in\nheight. But they are not the _highest._ So our eyes pass over peaks\nof every remarkable form--abrupt, rugged, and enticing, and we\nseek the highest peak of all. And Kinchinjunga is a worthy\nmountain-monarch. It is not a needle-point--a sudden upstart which might\neasily be upset. Kinchinjunga is grand and massive and of ample\ngesture, broad and stable and yet also culminating in a clear and\ndefinite point. There is no mistaking her superiority both in\nmassiveness and height to every peak around her.\n\nAnd thick-mantled in deep and everlasting snow though the whole\nlong range of mountains is, the spectacle of all this snow brings no\nchill upon us. For we are in latitudes more southern still than Italy\nand Greece--farther south than Cairo. The entire scene is bathed in\nwarm and brilliant sunshine. The snows are glittering white, but\nwith a white that does not strike cold upon us, for it is tinted in the\ntenderest way with the most delicate hues of blue and pink. They are,\nindeed, in the strictest sense not white at all, but a mingling of the\nvery faintest essence of the rose, the violet, and the forget-me-not.\nAnd we view the distant mountains through an atmospheric veil\nwhich has the strange property of revealing instead of hiding the real\nnature of the object before which it stands. It does not conceal the\nmountains. It reveals them in their real nature--the spiritual. Each\ncountry has an atmosphere of its own. There is a blue of the Alps, a\nblue of Italy, a blue of Greece, and a blue of Kashmir. The blue of\nthe Sikkim Himalaya, perhaps on account of the excessive amount\nof moisture in the air, has a special quality of its own. It seems to me\nto have more _colour_ in it--a _fuller_ colour, a bluer blue, a\npurpler purple than the atmosphere of these other countries. From\nthis cause and from the greater brilliance of the sun there is a more\nsatisfying _warmth_ even in the snows.\n\nSo besides beauty in the form of the mountains there is this exquisite\nloveliness of colour. In the immediate foreground are greens, fresh\nand shining and of every tint. And these shade away into deep\npurples and violets of the supporting ranges, and these again into\nthose most delicate hues of the snows which vary according to the\ntime of day, from decided rose-pink in the early morning and\nevening to, perhaps, faintest blue or violet in the full day. And over\nall and as a background is a sky of the intensest blue. What these\ncolours are it is impossible to describe in words, for even the violet,\nthe rose, and the forget-me-not have not the delicacy which these\ncolours in the atmosphere possess. And assuredly no painter could\ndo them justice, simply because paints and canvas are mediums far\ntoo coarse in which to reproduce the impression which such\nbrilliance of light acting on a medium so fine as the thin air produces.\nThe great Russian painter Verestchagin once visited Darjiling, and\ntook his seat to paint the scene. He looked and looked, but did not\npaint. His wife kept handing him the brush and paints. But time after\ntime he said: \"Not now, not now; it is all too splendid.\" Night came\nand the picture never was painted. And it never _could_ be painted,\nthough great artists most assuredly could at least point out to us in\ntheir pictures the subtler glories which are to be seen, and which we\nexpect them to indicate to us.\n\n* * *\n\nSo the view of the snows from Darjiling, grand and almost\noverpowering though it is, has warmth in it too. The main\nimpression is one of magnitude and amplitude, of vastness and\nimmensity, and withal of serene composure. The first view of the\nmountain seen through a rent in the clouds was perhaps more\nuplifting, though this view excites a sense of elevation also, for the\neye is continually being drawn to the highest point. But in this full\nview the impression of breadth and bigness of scale is combined\nwith the impression of height. The _dimensions_ of life in every\ndirection seem to be enlarged. We seem to be able to look at things\nfrom a broader, bigger point of view, as well as a higher. We\nourselves and the world at large are all on a larger scale than we had\nhitherto suspected. And while on a broader scale, we feel that things\nare always working _upward_ and converging towards some lofty\nbut distinct, defined summit. This also do we feel, as we look upon\nthe view, that with all the bigness and massiveness and loftiness\nthere is the very finest tenderness as well--such delicacy as we had\nnever before imagined.\n\nAnd to anyone who really knows them the littleness of man in\ncomparison with these mighty mountains is not the impression made\nupon him. He is not overawed and overcome by them. His soul goes\nout most lovingly to them because they have aroused in him all the\ngreatness in his soul, and purified it--even if only for a time--of all\nits dross and despicableness. And he loves them for that. He does\nnot go cringing along, feeling himself a worm in comparison with\nthem. There is warm kinship between him and them. He knows what\nis in their soul. And they have aroused in his soul exactly what he\nrejoices in having aroused there, and which but for them might have\nremained for ever unsurmised. So he revels in their Beauty.\n\n* * *\n\nAnother aspect in which we may see Kinchinjunga is in its aspect at\ndawn. It will be still night--a starlit night. The phantom snowy range\nand the fairy forms of the mountains will be bathed in that delicate\nyellow light the stars give forth. The far valley depths will be hidden\nin the sombrest purple. Overhead the sky will be glittering with\nbrilliant gems set in a field of limpid sapphire. The hush of night\nwill be over all--the hush which heralds some great and splendid\npageant.\n\nThen, almost before we have realised it, the eastward-facing scarps\nof the highest peaks are struck with rays of mingled rose and gold,\nand gleam like heavenly realms set high above the still\nnight-enveloped world below. Farther and farther along the line, deep and\ndeeper down it, the flush extends. The sapphire of the sky slowly\nlightens in its hue. The pale yellow of the starlight becomes merged\nin the gold of dawn. White billowy mists of most delicate softness\nimperceptibly form themselves in the valley depths and float up the\nmountain-sides. The deep hum of insect life, the chirping of the\nbirds, the sounds of men, begin to break the hush of night. The\nsnows become a delicate pink, the valleys are flooded with purple\nlight, the sky becomes intensest blue, and the sun at last itself\nappears above the mountains, and the ardent life of day vibrates\nonce more.\n\nIn the full glare of day the mountains are not seen at their very best.\nThe best time of all to see them is in the evening. If we go out a little\nfrom Darjiling into the forest to some secluded spur we can enjoy an\nevening of rare felicity. On the edge of the spur the forest is more\nopen. The ground is covered with grass and flowers and plants with\nmany-coloured leaves. Rich orchids and tender ferns and pendant\nmosses clothe the trees. Graceful vines and creepers festoon\nthemselves from bough to bough. The air is fragrant with the scent\nof flowers. Bright butterflies flutter noiselessly about. The soft purr\nof forest life drones around. Rays from the setting sun slant across\nthe scene. The leaves in their freshest green and of every shade\nglitter like emeralds in the brilliant light.\n\nThrough the trunks of the stately trees and under their overarching\nboughs we look out towards the snowy mountains. We look over the\nbrink of the spur, down into the deeps of the valleys richly filled\nwith tropical vegetation, their eastward-facing sides now of purplest\npurple, their westward-facing slopes radiant in the evening sunshine,\nwith the full richness of their foliage shown up by the dazzling light.\nFar below we see the silver streak of some foaming river, and then\nas we raise our eyes we mark ridge rising behind ridge, higher and\nhigher and each of a deeper shade of purple than the one in front.\nThe lower are still clothed in forest, but the green has been merged\nin the deep purple of the atmosphere. The higher are bare rock till\nthe snow appears. But just across them floats a long level wisp of\nfleecy cloud, and apparently the limits of earth have been reached\nand sky has begun. We would rest content with that. But our eyes\nare drawn higher still. And high above the cloud, and rendered\ninconceivably higher by its presence, emerges the snowy summit of\nKinchinjunga, serene and calm and flushed with the rose of the\nsetting sun. As a background is a sky of the clearest, bluest blue.\n\nThese are the chief elements of the scene, but all is in process of\nincessant yet imperceptible change. The sunshine slowly softens, the\npurples deepen, the flush on the mountains reddens. The air\nbecomes as soft as velvet. Not a leaf now stirs. A holy peace steals\nover the mountains and settles in the valleys. The snow mountains\nno longer look cold, hard, and austere. Their purity remains as true\nas ever. And they still possess their uplifting power. But they now\nspeak of serenity and calm--not, indeed, of the unsatisfying ease of\nthe slothful, but of the earned repose of high attainment. Great peace\nis about them--deep, strong, satisfying peace.\n\nThe sun finally sets. Night has settled in the valleys. The lights of\nDarjiling sparkle in the darkness. But long afterwards a glow still\nremains on Kinchinjunga. Lastly that also fades away. And now\nnight spreads her veil on every part. But here night brings with it no\nsense of gloom and darkness, much less death. Far otherwise, for\nnow it seems as if we were only beginning our intenser and still\nwider life. The fret of ordinary life is soothed away in the serene\nending of the day. The quietness, profound and meaningful, yet\nfurther calms our spirit. Every condition is now favourable for the\nlife of that inmost soul of us, which is too sensitive often to emerge\ninto the glare and rubs of daylight life, but which in this holy peace,\nin the presence of the heavenly mountains, and with the stars above\nto guide it, can reach out to its fullest extent and indulge its highest\naspirations.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nHIGH SOLITUDES\n\nFrom these scenes of tropical luxuriance and teeming life I would\ntransport the Artist to a region of austerest beauty, far at the back of\nthe Himalaya, where only one white man as yet has penetrated:\nwhere no life at all exists--no tree, no simplest plant, no humblest\nanimalcula; where, save for some rugged precipice too steep for\nsnow to lie, and save also for the intense azure of the sky, all is\nradiant whiteness. A region far distant from any haunt of man,\nwhere reigns a mountain which acknowledges supremacy to Mount\nEverest alone. A region of completest solitude, where the solemn\nsilence is unbroken by the twitter of a single bird or the drone of the\nsmallest insect, and is disturbed only by the occasional thunder of an\navalanche or the grinding crunch of the glacier as a reminder of the\ntitanic forces which are perpetually though invisibly at work.\n\nFreezing this region is and full of danger. And there is no short cut\nto it and no easy means of transport. Only men in the prime of health\ncan reach there and return. And it is only men whose faculties are at\ntheir finest who are fit to stand the austerity of its cold, stern beauty.\nIt lies at the dividing line between India and Central Asia where the\nwaters which flow to India are parted from the waters which flow to\nCentral Asia, and where the Indian and Chinese Empires touch one\nanother. It may be approached from two directions--from Turkistan\nor from Kashmir and the Karakoram Pass. The Artist had better\napproach it by Kashmir, for he will see there certain beauties which\neven Sikkim does not possess, and this will make him further realise\nthe variety of beauty this earth displays.\n\nKashmir is altogether different from Sikkim. In Sikkim the valleys\nare deep, steep, and narrow, and markedly inclined, so that the rivers\nrun strong and there is no room or level for lakes. In Kashmir the\nmain valley is from twenty to thirty miles broad and ninety miles\nlong. Over a large portion it is nearly dead level. So the river is even\nand placid. And there are tranquil lakes and duck-haunted marshes.\n\nThe climate is different, too. It is the climate of North Italy.\nConsequently there are no tropical forests, and the mountain-sides\nare covered with trees of the temperate zone--the stately deodar\ncedars, spruce fir, maples, walnut, sycamore, and birch; while in the\nvalley itself grow poplars, willows, mulberries, and most beautiful\nof all, and a speciality of Kashmir, the magnificent chenar tree--akin\nto the plane tree of Europe, but larger, fuller, and richer in its foliage.\n\nIn Kashmir there is also far more variety of colour than there is in\nSikkim. And in the spring, with the willows and poplars in freshest\ngreen; the almond, pear, apple, apricot, and peach trees in full\nblossom, white and pink; the fields emerald with young wheat, blue\nwith linseed, or yellow with mustard; and the village-borders purple\nwith iris; or in the autumn when the chenars, the poplars, and\napricots are turning to every tint of red and yellow and purple,\nKashmir is in a glow of colour. And the famous Valley is all the\nmore beautiful because it is ringed round with a circle of snowy\nmountains of at least Alpine magnitude, with a glimpse here and\nthere, such as that of Nanga Parbat, of much more stupendous peaks\nbeyond; and because the sky is so blue, the atmosphere so delicate in\nits hues, and the sunshine so general throughout the year.\n\nIn this favoured land there is many a variety of beauty, but all is of\nthe easy, pleasant kind. All the colours are soft and soothing. It is a\nland to dream of, a gentle and indulgent land of soft repose, and\ncalm content, and quiet relaxation; a dreamy, peaceful land where\nlife glides smoothly forward, and all makes for enjoyment and\nidleness and holiday.\n\nFrom the pleasant Vale of Kashmir the Artist would have to make\nhis way up the Sind Valley--a valley, typical of those beautiful\ntributaries which add so much to the whole charm of Kashmir.\nThese are comparatively narrow, and the mountain-sides are steep,\nbut the valleys are not so narrow nor the sides so steep as the valleys\nof Sikkim, nor are the forests anything like so dense. The scenery is,\nindeed, much more Swiss in appearance with open pine forests,\npicturesque hamlets, grassy pasture-lands, flowery meadows, and\nclear, rushing rivers; and with the rocky crests or snow-capped\nsummits of the engirdling mountains always in the background.\n\nBut when we emerge from this delightful valley of the Sind River\nand cross the Zoji-la Pass, we come upon a very different style of\ncountry--bare, dreary, desolate, monotonous, uninteresting. The\nforest has all disappeared, for the rainfall is here slight. The\nmoisture-laden clouds have precipitated themselves upon the\nseaward-facing slopes of the mountains we have already passed\nthrough. And because of this lack of rainfall the valleys are not cut\nout deep, but are high and broad. It is a delightful experience to pass\nfrom this brown, depressing landscape to the rich beauties of the\nSind Valley and Kashmir. But to make the journey the other way\nround, and to pass _into_ the gloomy region after being spoilt by the\nluxuries of Kashmir, is sadly disheartening at first.\n\nThe experience has, however, its advantages, for it makes us throw\noff all ideas of soft ease we may have harboured in Kashmir, and\nreminds us that we have to prepare ourselves to face beauties of a far\nsterner kind. So we insensibly alter our whole attitude of mind, and\nas we plod our way through the mountains we summon up from\nwithin ourselves all the austerer stuff of which we are made.\n\nWe cross some easy passes of 13,000 feet or so in height. We cross\nthe River Indus. We reach Leh. We cross a 17,000 feet pass and then\na glacier pass of 18,000 feet, and then the watershed of India and\nCentral Asia by the Karakoram Pass, nearly 19,000 feet in height.\nWe are six hundred miles from the plains of India now, and in about\nas desolate a region as the world contains. Then, bearing westward,\nwe make for the Aghil Pass. We have now got right in behind the\nHimalaya, and as we reach the top of the Aghil Pass we look\ntowards the Himalaya from the Central Asian side, on what is\nknown as the Karakoram Range, and here at last is the remote,\nsecluded glacier region which has been the object of our search.\n\nIts glory bursts upon us as we top the last rise to the Aghil Pass.\nAcross the deep valley is arrayed in bold and jagged outline a series\nof pinnacles of ice glistening in the brilliant sunshine, showing up in\nclearest definition against the intense blue sky, and rising abruptly\nand incredibly high above the rock-bound Oprang River. They are\nthe mighty peaks which group around K2--the noblest cluster in the\nwhole Himalaya.\n\nThere are here no inviting grassy slopes and no enticing forests. The\nmountain-sides are all hard rock and rugged precipices. And the\nsummits are of ice or with edges sharp and keen direct from Nature's\nworkshop. But the sight, though it awes us, does not depress us or\ndeter us. We are keyed up by high anticipation when we arrive on\nthe threshold of this secluded region, and a fierce joy seizes us as we\nfirst set eyes on these mountains. We know we have before us one\nof the great sights of the world--something unique and apart,\nsomething the like of which we shall never see again. And awed as\nwe are by the mountains' unsurpassed magnificence, we do not bow\ndown in any abject way before them. We are not impressed by our\nlittleness in comparison. They have, indeed, shown us that the world\nis something greater than we knew. But they have shown us also that\n_we_ too are something greater than we knew. The peaks in their\ndazzling altitude have set an exacting standard for us. They have\nincited us to rise to that standard. Their call is great, but a thrill runs\nthrough us as we feel ourselves responding to the challenge,\ncollecting ourselves together and gathering up every stiffest bit of\nourselves to rise to their high standard. We feel nerved and steeled;\nand in high exhilaration we plunge down into the valley to join issue\nwith the mountains.\n\nArrived on the Oprang River we can turn either to the left or the\nright. If we turn to the left we get right in under a knot of stupendous\npeaks. Towering high and solitary above the rocky wall which\nbounds the valley on the south is a peak which may be K2, 28,250\nfeet in height, which must be somewhere in the neighbourhood. But\nthe investigations of the Duke of the Abruzzi throw a doubt as to\nwhether this can be K2 itself. If it is not, it must be some unfixed\nand unnamed peak. At any rate it is a magnificent, upstanding peak\nrising proud and steep-sided high and clear above its neighbours.\nThen beyond it, farther up the Oprang Valley, we catch glimpses of\nthat wondrous company of Gusherbrum Peaks--four of them over\n26,000 feet in height, with rich glaciers flowing from them.\n\nBut if we turn to the right on descending from the Aghil Pass, and if\nwe turn again in the direction of the Mustagh Pass, we come to an\nicy realm which has about it, above every other region, the impress\nof both extreme remoteness and loftiest seclusion. As we ascend\nright up the glacier--either the one coming down from the Mustagh\nPass or the one to the east running parallel with the general line of\nthe Karakoram Range--we feel not only far away from but also high\nabove the rest of the world. And we seem to have risen to an\naltogether purer region. Especially if we sleep in the open, without\nany tent, with the mountains always before us, with the stars\ntwinkling brightly above us, do we have this sense of having\nascended to a loftier and serener world.\n\nAt the heads of these glaciers there is little else but snow and ice.\nThe moraines have almost disappeared--or, rather, have hardly yet\ncome into being. And the mountains are so deeply clothed in ice and\nsnow, it is only when they are extremely steep that rock appears.\nThe glacier-filled valley below and the mountain above are therefore\nalmost purely white. The atmosphere, too, is marvellously clear, so\nthat by day the mountains and glaciers glitter brightly in the\nsunshine, and at night the stars shine out with diamond brilliance.\nThe effect on a moonlight night is that of fairyland. We see the\nmountains as clearly as we would by the daylight of many regions,\nbut the light is now all silver, and the mountains not solid and\nsubstantial but ethereal as in a vision.\n\nThe pureness of the beauty is unspotted. It is the direct opposite of\nthe voluptuous beauty of Kashmir. No one would come here for\nrepose and holiday. But we like to have been there once. We like to\nhave attained even once in a lifetime to a world so refined and pure.\n\nCold it may be--and dangerous. But we soon forget the cold. And\nthe dangers only string us up to meet them, so that we are in a\npeculiarly alert, observant mood. And we have a secret joy in\nwatching Nature in her most threatening aspects and in measuring\nourselves against her.\n\nWhite it may be, but not colourless. For the whiteness of the snow is\nmost exquisitely tinged with blue. The lakelets on the glacier are of\ndeepest blue. They are encircled by miniature cliffs of ice of\ntransparent green. The blue-ness of the sky is of a depth only seen in\nthe highest regions. And the snowy summits of the mountains are\ntinged at sunset and dawn with finest flush of rose and primrose. So\nwith all the whiteness there is, too, the most delicate colouring.\n\nStanding thus on the glacier and looking up to the snowy peaks all\nround us, we think how, wholly unobserved by men, they have\nreared themselves to these high altitudes and there remain century\nby century unseen by any human being. From deep within the\ninterior of the earth they have arisen. And they are only touched by\nthe whitest snowflakes. They are only touched by snowflakes\nfashioned from the moisture which the sun's rays have raised off the\nsurface of the Indian Ocean, and which the monsoon winds have\ntransported in invisible currents, high above the plains of India, till\nthey are gently precipitated on these far-distant heights.\n\n\"Blessed are the pure in heart,\" we are told, \"for they shall see God.\"\nAnd blessed are they who are able to ascend to a region like this, for\nhere they cannot but be pure in heart, and cannot _help_ seeing God.\nFor the time being at least, they _have_ to be pure. In the spotless\npurity of that region they cannot harbour any thought that is sordid\nor unclean. And they pray that ever after they may maintain what\nthey have reached. For they know that if they could maintain it they\nwould see beauties which in the murky state of common life it is\nimpossible to perceive. In the white purity which this high region\nexacts they are forced to pierce through the superficial and\nunimportant and they catch sight of the real.\n\nThey are in a remote and lofty solitude, and in touch with the naked\nelementals of which the world has built itself. But they do not feel\nalone. They feel themselves in a great Presence, and in a Presence\nwith which they are most intimately in touch. And it is no dread\nPresence, but one which they delight to feel. Holiness is its essence,\nand their souls are purged and purified. They are suffused with it; it\nenters deeply into them, and translates them swiftly upward.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nTHE HEAVENS\n\nThe remote glacier region gives us a sense of purity, and gives us,\ntoo, a vision of colour in its finest delicacy. But for depth, extent,\nand brilliancy of colour we must look to sunsets--and sunsets in\nthose high desert regions where the outlook is widest and the\natmosphere clearest.\n\nIn deserts everywhere marvellous sunsets may be seen, for the\ncomparative absence of moisture in the atmosphere and the presence\nof invisible particles of dust gives these sunsets an especial\nbrilliancy. In the middle of the day a desert in its uniform brownness\nis dreary and monotonous to a degree. But at dawn and sunset when\nthe sun's rays slant across the scene the desert glows with colour of\nevery shade and hue and in ever-changing combination. In the Gobi\nDesert of Central Asia, in the Egyptian Desert, in the Arabian Desert,\nin Arizona, I have seen sunsets that thrill one with delight. But\nnowhere have I seen more glorious sunsets than in the highlands of\nTibet. And what makes them there so remarkable is that the plains\nthemselves are 15,000 feet above sea-level, so that the atmosphere is\nexceptionally clear. Great distances are therefore combined with\nunusual clearness. The country is open enough and the air clear\nenough for us to see far distances. And extent is a prime essential in\nthe glory of a sunset.\n\nIt is difficult to make those who have never been outside Europe\nunderstand what sunsets can be. In England, as Turner has shown,\nthere are sunsets to be seen containing in abundance many such\nelements of beauty as varied and varying and great extent of colour.\nBut the atmosphere here is so thick that the colours appear as if\nthrown on to a solid background. So the sunsets look opaque. On the\ncontinent of Europe the atmosphere is clearer and the opaqueness\nless pronounced. The colouring is in consequence more vivid.\nBut--except in high Alpine regions--the clearness does not approach the\nclearness of Tibet. And neither in England nor on the Continent do\nwe get the great _distances_ of desert sunsets. And great distances\nincrease immeasurably that feeling of _infinity_ which is the chief\nglory in a sunset.\n\nThe clearness of the atmosphere is important in this respect also,\nthat it produces the effect upon the colours of the sunset that they\nseem more like the colours we see in precious stones than the\ncolours a painter throws on a canvas. There is no milkiness or\nmurkiness in them. The sky is so clear that we see a colour as we see\nthe red in a ruby. We see deep into the colour. The colour comes\nright _out_ of the sky and has not the appearance of being merely\nplastered on the surface.\n\nAnd the variety of the colours and the rapidity with which they\nchange and merge and mingle into one another is another wonder of\nthese desert sunsets. It would be wholly impossible to paint a picture\nof them which would adequately express the impression they give,\nfor the main impression is derived from light, and the colours are\ntherefore far more glowing than they could ever be reproduced on\ncanvas. Nor can the changing effects be reproduced on a stationary\nmedium. The nearest approach to the glory of a Tibet sunset which I\nhave seen is a picture in pastel by Simon de Bussy a sunset in the\nAlps. But all pictures--even Turner's;--can only draw attention to the\nglory and show us what to look for. They cannot reproduce the\nimpression in full. The medium through which the artist has to\nwork--the paints and the canvas--are inadequate for his needs.\n\nIf we try to describe the impression in words we are no better off.\nWe can, indeed, compare the sunset colours with the colours of\nflowers and precious stones. But here also we miss the light which is\nthe very foundation of the sunset beauties. And we have neither the\nchangefulness nor the vast extent of the sunset colouring.\n\nTo get the least idea of the variety of colours mixing, merging, and\nintermingling with one another we must go to the opal, though even\nthere there is not the intensity of colour, and of course not the\nchange nor extent. From an orange--especially a blood orange--we\nget a notion of the combined reds and yellows of the sunsets, though\nthe reds may range deeper than orange into the reds of the ruby or\nthe cardinal flower, and lighter into the pinks of the rose or the\ncarnation; and the yellows range from the gold of the eseholtzia to\nthe delicate hue of the primrose. And for the translucency of their\nyellower effects we must bring in the amber. Often there is a green\nwhich can only be matched by jade or emerald. And sometimes\nthere is an effect with which only the amethyst can be compared.\nThen there are mauves and purples for which the precious stones\nhave no parallel, and of which heliotrope, the harebell, and the violet\ngive us the best idea. And the blues range from the deep blue of the\nsapphire and the gentian to the light blue of the turquoise and the\nforget-me-not.\n\nIn these stones and flowers we get something near the actual colour,\nbut the depth, the clearness, the luminosity, and the vast extent are\nall wanting, and these are all essential features of the sunset's glories.\nSo we must imagine all these colours glowing with light and never\nstill--perpetually changing from one to the other and shading off\nfrom one into the other, one colour emerging, rising to the dominant\nposition, and then disappearing to give place to another, and\neffecting these changes imperceptibly yet rapidly also, for if we take\nour eyes away for even a few minutes we find that the aspect has\naltogether altered.\n\nFrom my camp in Tibet for weeks together I could be sure of\nwitnessing every evening one of these glorious sunsets. For while\nthe mighty monsoon clouds used to roll up on to the line of\nHimalayan peaks and pile themselves up there, billow upon billow,\nin magnificent array, dark and fearful in the general mass, but\nclear-edged and silver-tipped along the summits, yet beyond that line, in\nTibet, the sky was nearly always clear and blue of the bluest. With\nnothing whatever to impede my view--no trees, nor houses, nor\nfences, nor obstacles of any kind--I could look out far over these\nopen plains to distant hills; beyond them, again, to Mount Everest a\nhundred miles away; beyond it, again, to still more distant\nmountains; and, finally, behind them into the setting sun. And these\nfar hills and snowy mountains, seen as they were across an\nabsolutely open plain, seemed not to impede the view but only to\nheighten the impression of great distance. The eye would be led on\nfrom feature to feature, each receding farther into the distance till it\nseemed only a step from the farthest snowy mountain into the\nglowing sun itself.\n\nEvery evening, whenever I could, I used to walk out alone into the\nopen plain to feast my soul on the splendid scene. In the stern\nglacier region round K2 had had to brace myself up and to summon\nup all that was toughest within me in order to cope with the terribly\nexacting conditions in which I found myself. In the presence of\nthese calm but fervent sunsets there was a different feeling. I had a\nsense of expansion, a longing to let myself go. And I would feel\nmyself craving to let myself go out all I could into these glowing\ndepths of light and colour, and trying to open myself out to their\nbeauty, that as much as possible of it should flow into me and\nglorify my whole being. I had the feeling that in those sunsets there\nwas _any_ length for my soul to go out to--that there was _infinite_\nroom there for the soul's expansion. There was inexhaustible glory\nfor the soul to absorb, and the soul was thirsting for it and could\nnever have enough.\n\nEvening after evening came to me, too--quite unconsciously, and as\nit were inevitably--Shelley's words (slightly altered):\n\n          \"Be thou, spirit bright,\n     My spirit! Be thou me, most glorious one!\n     Be through my lips to unawakened earth\n     The trumpet of a prophecy.\"\n\nIt was not that there was any particular message that I had to give.\nBut there was aroused in me just this simple, insistent longing to let\nothers know what glory there was in the world, and to be able to\ncommunicate to them something of the joy I was then feeling in\nbeholding it. I was highly privileged in having this opportunity of\nwitnessing a Tibetan sunset's splendours. I was yearning for others\nto share my enjoyment with me.\n\nThe white radiance of the glacier region instils into us a sense of\npurity, and without the purity of heart which that stern region exacts\nwe cannot see the sunset's glory in all its fulness. But now in these\nTibetan sunsets we have not purity alone, but warmth and richness\nas well. They give an impression of infinity of glory. We catch\nalight from their consuming glory, and our hearts flame up in\ncorrespondence with them. The fervent glow in the Heart of Nature\nkindles a like glow in our own hearts; and we are enraptured by the\nBeauty.\n\nOn our misty island we are apt to connect sunsets with coming\ndarkness and a black end of things. And in gazing on them we are\nprone to have a sense of sadness mingled with our joy. They seem to\nmean for us a passage from light to darkness, and from life to death.\n\nBut in the deserts we have no such feeling. As day imperceptibly\nfades away it is not black darkness that succeeds, but a light that\nenables us to see farther, a mellower light that enables us to see the\nUniverse at large. From this earthly life we are transported to a\nhigher, intenser, ampler life among the stars.\n\nAnd it is in the desert that we best live among the stars. In Europe\nwe look up into the sky between trees and houses; and among the\nclouds and through a murky atmosphere we see a few stars. Even\nwhen we have a clear sky we seldom get a chance of seeing the\nwhole expanse of the heavens all the way round. And even if we get\nthis rare chance of a clear sky and a wide horizon we do not live\nwith the stars in the open the night through and night after night.\n\nIn the Gobi Desert I had this precious opportunity. And I had it\nwhen my whole being was tuned up to highest pitch. I was not in the\nlimp state of one who steps out into his garden and looks up casually\nto the stars. I was tense with high enterprise. I was passing through\nunknown country on a journey across the Chinese Empire from\nPeking to India. I was keen and alive in every faculty, in a state of\nhigh exhilaration, and both observant and receptive. It was a rare\nchance, and much I wish now I had made more of it.\n\nMy party in crossing the Gobi Desert consisted only of a Chinese\nguide, a Chinese servant, and a Mongol camel-man. As I had no\nEuropean companion I was driven in upon myself. I had to explore a\nroute never before traversed by Europeans, and the distance to be\ncovered across the open steppes of Mongolia and over the Gobi\nDesert to the first town in Turkestan was twelve hundred miles.\nBeyond that was the whole length of Turkestan and the six-hundred-mile\nbreadth of the Himalaya to be crossed before I should reach\nIndia. So I had a big task before me, and was stirring with the sense\nof high adventure and vast distances to overcome.\n\nTo enable my eight camels to feed by daylight, I used to start at five\no'clock in the afternoon and march till one or two in the morning.\nSometimes in order to reach water we had to march all through the\nnight and well into the following day. Frequently there were terrific\nsandstorms, but there were seldom any clouds. So the atmosphere\nwas clear. In the distance were sometimes hills. But for the most\npart all round the desert was absolutely open. I could see for what\nseemed an indefinite distance in any direction. The conditions were\nideal for observing the stars.\n\nSeated on my camel, or trudging along apart from my little caravan,\nI would watch the sun set in always varying splendour. No two\nsunsets were anything like the same. Each through the ascendancy\nof some one shade of colour, or through an unusual combination of\ncolour, had a special beauty of its own. I would watch each ripening\nto the climax and then shade away into the beauty of the night. And\nwhen the day was over the night would reveal that higher, wider life\nwhich daylight only served to hide.\n\nThe sunset glow would fade away. Star after star would spring into\nsight till the whole vault of heaven was glistening with diamond\npoints of light. Above me and all round me stars were shining out of\nthe deep sapphire sky with a brilliance only surpassed by the stars in\nthe high Himalayan solitudes I have already described. And a great\nstillness would be over all--a silence even completer than the silence\namong the mountains, for there it was often broken by creaking of\nthe ice, whereas here in the desert it was so profound that, when at\nthe end of many weeks I arrived at a patch of grass and trees, the\ntwittering of the birds and the whirr of insects sounded like the roar\nof a London street.\n\nIn this unbroken stillness and with the eye free to rove all round with\nnothing in any direction to stay its vision, and being as I was many\nweeks' distance from any settled human habitation, I often had the\nfeeling of being more connected with the starry firmament than with\nthis Earth. In a curious way the bodily and the material seemed to\nexist no longer, and I would be in spirit among the stars. They\nserved to guide us over the desert and I gradually became familiar\nwith them. And I used to feel as much a part of the Stellar World as\nof this Earth. I lost all sense of being confined to Earth and took my\nplace in the Universe at large. My home was the whole great\nCosmos before me. The Cosmos, and not the Earth, was the whole\nto which I belonged.\n\nAnd in that unbroken quiet and amid this bright company of heaven\nmy spirit seemed to become intenser and more daring. Right high up\nin the zenith, to infinite height, it would soar unfettered. And right\nround to any distance in any direction it would pierce its way. The\nheight and distance of the highest and farthest stars I knew had been\nmeasured. I knew that the resulting number of miles is something so\nimmense as to be altogether beyond human conception. I knew also\nthat the number of stars, besides those few thousands which I saw,\nhad to be numbered in hundreds of millions. All this was astonishing,\nand the knowledge of it filled me with wonder at the immensity of\nthe Starry Universe. But it was not the mere magnitude of this world\nthat impressed me. What stirred me was the Presence, subtly felt, of\nsome mighty all-pervading Influence which ordered the courses of\nthe heavenly hosts and permeated every particle.\n\nWe cannot watch the sun go down day after day, and after it has set\nsee the stars appear, rise to the meridian and disappear below the\nopposite horizon in regular procession, without being impressed by\nthe order which prevails. We feel that the whole is kept together in\npunctual fashion, and is not mere chaos and chance. The presence of\nsome Power upholding, sustaining, and directing the whole is deeply\nimpressed upon us. And in this Presence so steadfast, so calm, so\nconstant, we feel soothed and steadied. The frets and pains of\nordinary life are stilled. Deep peace and satisfaction fill our souls.\n\nSandstorms so terrific that we cannot stand before them or see a\nthing a foot or two distant come whirling across the desert, and all\nfor the time seems turmoil and confusion and nothing is visible. But\nbehind all we know the stars still pursue their mighty way. At the\nback of everything we realise there is a Power constant and\ndependable in whom we can absolutely put our trust.\n\nThis is the impression--the impression of steadfastness, constancy,\nand reliability--which a nightly contemplation of the stars makes\nupon us. At the foundation of things is something dependable,\nsomething in which we can repose our faith. And so the sense of\ncalm and confidence we feel.\n\nAnd in the desert we have no feeling that the stars pursue their\ncourse in cold indifference to us--that the Power which sustains\nthem works its soulless way unregardful of the frettings of us little\nmen. Not thus are we who watch the desert stars impressed. Quite\notherwise. For nowhere do we feel the Influence nearer, more\nintimate or more beneficent. We seem in the very midst of the great\nPresence. We are immersed in it. It is pervading us on every side.\nWe do not expect it to alter the whole course of Nature for our\nprivate good. But we feel confident that the course of Nature is for\n_good_--that Nature is a beneficent and no callous Power, and has\ngood at heart. _Because_ the foundations are so sure and good we\ncan each pursue our way in confidence. This is the impression we\nget.\n\nAnd the Power which guides the stars upon their heavenly way, and\nwhich, in guiding them, guides us across the desert, does not reside,\nwe feel, in lonely grandeur in the empty places of the heavens, but in\nthe stars themselves--in their very constitution--in each individually\nand in all in their togetherness. It burns in each star and shines forth\nfrom it, and yet holds the whole together as we see it every night in\nthat circling vault around us. The Activity does not appear to us to\nemanate from some Invisible Being dwelling wholly apart and\nisolated from the stars and this Earth, and sending forth invisible\nspiritual rays, as the Sun stands apart from the Earth but sends out\nrays of sunlight to it. It seems rather to dwell in the very heart and\ncentre of each star, and the stars seem _spiritual_ rather than\nmaterial beings. So this Power, as we experience it in the desert,\ndoes not impress us as being awful and remote, gloomy and\ninexorable, enforcing unbending law and exacting terrible penalties.\nOur impression of it is that, though it preserves order with unfailing\nregularity, it is yet near and kindly, radiating with light and warmth.\nWe not only feel it to be something steadfast, something on which\nwe can rely and in which we may have confidence; we also feel\nwarmed and kindled by it.\n\nSo what we get from a nightly contemplation of the stars is a sense\nof happy companionship with Nature. The Heart of Nature as here\nrevealed is both dependable and kindly. Nature is our friend. And in\nher certain friendship the balm of peace falls softly on us. Our hearts\nblend tenderly with the Heart of Nature; and in their union we see\nBeauty of the gentlest and most reassuring kind.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nHOME BEAUTY\n\nThe Artist in his quest for Natural Beauty will have pursued it in the\nremotest and wildest parts of the Earth, where he can see Nature in\nher primeval and most elemental simplicity. He will have seen her in\nmany and most varied aspects--the grandest, the wildest, and the\nmost luxuriant. And from these numerous and so different\nmanifestations of Nature he will have been enabled more fully to\nunderstand her meaning and comprehend her soul. Moreover, this\ncontemplation of Nature will have evoked from within himself much\nthat he had never suspected he possessed, and thereby his own soul\nalso he will have learned to understand. And from this completer\ncomprehension of his own soul and hers will have emerged a fuller\ncommunity of heart between him and Nature. He will have come to\nworship her with a still more ardent devotion, and through the\nintensity of his love discovered richer and richer Beauty in her.\n\nBut even yet he has not seen Natural Beauty where it can be found\nin its highest perfection. Only when there can be the most intimate\npossible relationship between him and the natural object he is\ncontemplating can Beauty at its finest be seen. And this closest\ncorrespondence of all between him and Nature will only be when he\nis in the natural surroundings with which he has been familiar from\nchildhood, and which have affected him in his most impressionable\nyears.\n\nThe Artist will have seen Nature as she manifests herself in the\nteeming life of a tropical forest and the most varied races of men; in\nthe highest mountains and the widest deserts; in the glory of sunsets\nand the calm of stars. But it is in none of these that he will see\ndeepest into the true Heart of Nature and understand her best. It is\namid scenery which he has loved since boyhood, in the hearts of his\nown countrymen in their own country, that he will see deepest into\nNature. And deepest of all will he see when from among his\ncountrywomen he has united himself to the one of his own\ndeliberate choice, and in this union realised in its fulness, strength,\nand intensity that Creative Love which springs from Nature's very\nheart, and is the ultimate fount and source of all Natural Beauty.\n\nWe like to go out over all the Earth and see the wonders of it. And\nwe learn to love the great mountains and rich forests and unfenced\nsteppes and veldts and prairies. And we get to love also the various\npeoples among whom we have to work and travel. But in his heart\nof hearts each man likes to get back to the scenes of his childhood.\nThe plainsman likes to get back again from the mountains to his\nlevel plains where the scene is closer and more intimate. The\nmountaineer likes to retire again from the plains into the mountains.\nThe dweller on the veldt likes to get out of the forest on to the great\nopen spaces once more. The inhabitant of the forest likes to get back\nthere again from the plains. And the Englishman, though he loves\nthe Alps and the Himalaya, is touched by nothing so deeply as by a\nDevonshire lane with its banks of primroses and violets. And he\nmay have the greatest affection for peoples of other races among\nwhom he may have had to work, yet it is his own countrymen that\nhe will always really love.\n\nSo the Artist comes back to home surroundings and his own people.\nAnd he will return with his sense of beauty quickened and refined\nby this wide and varied experience of Nature. His sensibility to the\nbeauties of Nature will now be of rarest delicacy, and his capacity\nfor fine discrimination and his feeling for distinction and excellence\nsure and keen.\n\nHe will have been toned and tuned up to the highest pitch in his\nwrestling with Nature, and will have been purged and purified in the\nwhite region of the highest mountains. And in this high-strung state\nhe will now see that creation and manifestation of Nature which of\nall natural objects will best declare her meaning, bring him into\ncloser touch with her very Heart, and stir in him the deepest\nemotions. Between him and this object there will be possible the\nclosest community of soul. Here then he will see Natural Beauty at\nits very finest.\n\nThe natural object in which he will see this consummation of Beauty\nwill be the woman who will be to him a kindred spirit, and whom he\nwill first admire and then love.\n\nIt was through the love of man and woman for each other in the\nfar-off ages when love first came into the hearts of men that Natural\nBeauty also first dawned upon them. It is through that love that\nNatural Beauty has been continually growing in fulness and\nsplendour. And it will be through that same love of man and woman\nfor each other that the Artist will see Natural Beauty reach its\nhighest perfection. For in this love man first learned to enter into the\nsoul of another, to recognise samenesses between himself and\nanother, and to live in communion with another. And so in time he\ncame to recognise samenesses between what was in his heart and\nwhat was in the Heart of Nature, to enter into communion with\nNature, and through the wedding of himself with Nature see the\nBeauty in her. He was able in some slight degree to be towards\nNature what we see the midge buzzing round a man must be if that\nmidge is to see the beauty of man. Just as the midge, if it is to see\nthe beauty in man, must be able to recognise samenesses between its\nlife and the life of man, so man to see Beauty in Nature had to\nrecognise identity of life between him and Nature as he was first\ninspired to see it through the love of man and woman for each other.\nAnd now the Artist with his wide experience of Nature and united\nwith his own countrywoman in his own country will recognise a still\ncloser identity between himself and Nature, and so see an even fuller\nBeauty in her.\n\nAssuming the man and woman, both by their upbringing and by\noutward circumstances, to have been able to develop the best\ncapacities within them and to be meeting now under conditions most\nfavourable for their union, we shall see how perfect is the Beauty\nwhich may be revealed. The man will be in the prime of his\nmanhood, and the woman in the prime of her womanhood. The man\nmanly and radiating manhood, the woman womanly and radiating\nwomanhood: their manhood and womanhood welling up within\nthem, each eager to answer the call of the other.\n\nHers will be no light and shallow beauty insipid as milk and water,\nbut will be sweet as the violet, delicate as the primrose, pure as the\nlily, yet with all the sweetness, delicacy and purity, radiant as the\nsunrise. And they will be no pale and puny lovers, soft and mild as\ndoves, and content to lead a dull and trivial life. They will be high of\nspirit, graceful, swift, and supple as the greyhound; and as keenly\nintent on living a full and varied life with every moment of it worth\nwhile as ever the greyhound is in pursuing its object. They will be\ncapable of intense and passionate emotion, yet with all their eager\nimpulsiveness they will have wills strong to keep themselves in\nhand, and to maintain their direction true through all the mazy\nintricacies of life and love.\n\nIn the bringing together of such a pair Natural Beauty will play a\nvitally important part. Of all objects that Nature has produced--of all\nthe offspring of the Earth--such a man and woman are the most\nbeautiful. And we may assume that as they are drawn to each other\nthey will put forth the very best of themselves and give out the\nutmost beauty that is in them. Moreover, they will be more beautiful\nto each other than they are to anybody else. Unconsciously they will\nreveal to each other what they _can_ reveal to none other but\nthemselves. Insensibly the windows of their souls will be opened to\neach other. The lovelight in their eyes--the lovelight which can\n_only_ be shown to each other--will discover to them hidden depths\nof beauty they had never gathered they possessed.\n\nAnd this beauty will be something more than mere prettiness or\nhandsomeness of face. The man will see the beauty of the woman\n--and she his--not only in the face and features, but in the presence,\nbearing, and carriage, in the gestures, movements, and behaviour.\nBehind the outward aspect he will see the inward spirit, the real self,\nthe true nature, the radiant personality. And the beauty that he sees\nwill fill him with a passionate yearning, both to give and to possess.\nHe will want both to give the utmost and best of himself, and also to\npossess what so satisfies all the cravings of the soul. And whether it\nbe to give or to possess that he most wants he will be unable to\ndistinguish. But, in the craving to give and possess, the highest\nstimulus will be afforded him to exert every faculty to its limit. The\neffort will give zest, and with zest will come added powers of vision,\nso that he will be able to see both her and his inmost and utmost\ncapabilities. And though the force of outward circumstances may\nprevent both her and him from ever completely fulfilling those latent\npossibilities, what they see of themselves and of each other in those\ndivine moments may nevertheless be a perfectly true vision of their\nreal and fundamental nature. Love is not so blind as is supposed.\nLove is capable of seeing clearer and deeper than any other faculty.\n\nWhat the Artist now sees with the eyes of Love will be the ground\nupon which he will have to form his judgment in the most critical\ndecision of his life. For the moment will now have come when he\nwill have to decide whether of all others he will give himself to her,\nand whether he can presume to ask of her that she will give herself\nto him--and each to the other for all the rest of their lives. It is a\nmomentous decision to have to make. With his highly developed\npower of vision he will have divined her true nature. But he will\nhave now to exercise his judgment on it--whether it will satisfy the\nneeds of his whole being and whether his whole being is sufficient\nto satisfy her needs. Each has to be sure that his peculiar nature\nsatisfies--and satisfies fully--his or her own peculiar needs, and that\nhis peculiar nature satisfies the other's needs. A wrong decision here\nis fatal. The responsibility is fearful. All will depend upon his\nkeenness of vision, his capacity for discrimination, and his\nsoundness of judgment. The decision may be arrived at swiftly and\nconsciously, or it may be come to unconsciously, gradually, and\nimperceptibly. But shorter or longer the time, consciously or\nunconsciously the method, it will have in the end to be made in a\nperfectly definite fashion--yes or no--and from that decision there\ncan be no going back. And on that clear decision will hang the\nfuture welfare not only of the one who makes it, but of both. Each,\ntherefore, has to decide for the welfare of both.\n\nThis is the real Day of Judgment. And each is his own judge. Now\nall his and her past life and inborn nature is being put to the test in a\nfierce ordeal--and the fiery ordeal of love is more searching even\nthan the ordeal of war. Every smallest blot and blemish, every\nslightest impurity is shown up in startling clearness. Every flaw at\nonce betrays itself. What will not bear a strain immediately breaks\ndown. There is not an imperfection which is not glaringly displayed.\nThe other may not see it, but he himself will--and upon him is the\nresponsibility.\n\nNo wonder that both the one and the other hesitate to commit\nthemselves finally and irrevocably! Can he with all his blots and\nblemishes, his failings and weaknesses, offer to give himself to the\nother? Is he worthy to receive all that he would expect to receive in\nreturn? Is he justified in asking that the whole being and the most\nsacred thing in life should be given over utterly to him? It seems\nastounding that any man should ever have the impudence to answer\nsuch questions in the affirmative. Doubtless he would not have had\nsuch effrontery but for two considerations.\n\nIn the first place he knows that, imperfect as he may be--downright\nsinful as he may often have been--he is not bad at bottom. At heart,\nhe knows for certain he has capacities for improvement which\nwould come at once into being if only they had the opportunity for\ndevelopment. And he knows that the other could make those\nopportunities--could provide the stimulus which would awaken in\nhim and bring to fruit many a hidden capability of good. Every\nfaculty in him he now feels being quickened to an activity never\nknown before. Blemishes he feels being purged away in the\ncleansing fires of pure love. He feels that with the other he will be,\nas he has never been before, his whole and his true self. And this is\nthe first consideration which gives him confidence.\n\nThe second is that he feels himself now to a very special degree in\ndirect and intimate touch with the central Heart of Nature.\nSomething from what he feels by instinct is the Divine Source of\nLife and Love comes springing up within him, penetrating him\nthrough and through, supporting and upholding him and urging him\nforward. He feels that he directly springs from that Source, and that\nit will ever sustain him as long as he is true to his own real self, and\nworks for those high ends towards which he feels himself impelled.\n\nWith strong faith, then, he makes his decision--with strong faith in\n_himself,_ for he knows himself to be inspired by the same great\nSpirit which animates the whole world of which he is himself a part.\nAnd having in this faith made his decision, he girds himself for the\npoignant battle of love.\n\nAnd as in war so in love men--and women--rise to altogether\nunexpected heights of courage, endurance, and devotion. War is a\nfine spur to excellence. But love is an even finer. Every faculty is\nquickened and refined. Every high quality brought into fullest\nexercise. Daring and caution, utter disregard of self and selfishness\nin the extreme, are alike required. For the two will never achieve full\nwedded union until they have fought their way through many an\ninterposing obstacle. Adroitness, and that rare quality, social\ncourage, will be needed in dealing with ever-recurring, complicated,\npainful, and nerve-straining situations. Even in their attitude towards\none another as they gradually come together the finest address will\nbe required. For each has necessarily to be comparing himself and\ncomparing the object of his love with others; and each feels that he\nis being similarly compared. There can be no final assurance till the\nunion is completed. A single ill-judged word or action may ruin all.\nAt any moment another may be preferred--or at least one of the two\nmay find the other inadequate or deficient.\n\nAll this will afford the highest stimulus to emulation. Each will\nstrive to excel in what the other approves and appreciates--or at any\nrate to excel in what is his own particular line. He will be incited to\nshow himself at his best and to be his best.\n\nBut before the bliss of completest union is attained anguish and\nrapture in exquisite extremes will be experienced. For the soul of\neach will be exposed in all its quivering sensitiveness, and any but\nthe most delicate touch will be a torture to it. Fortitude of the firmest\nwill be required to bear the wounds which must necessarily come\nfrom this exposure. Each, too, will have to bear the pain of the\nsuffering they must inevitably be causing to some few others--and\nthose others among their very dearest.\n\nAs the intimacy of union becomes closer and closer the call for\nbodily union will become more and more insistent. In the first\ninstance--and this is a point which is specially worth noting--the\ndesire was _entirely_ for spiritual union, for union of the _spirits_ of\neach. What each admired and loved in the other was his or her\ncapacity for love. He realised what a wonderful love the other\n_could_ give. And he yearned with all his heart to have that love\ndirected towards himself. It was a purely spiritual union that his\nheart was set on. The thought of bodily union did not enter his head.\nBut the need for bodily touch as a means of expressing human\nfeeling is inherent in human nature, and becomes more and more\nurgent as the feeling becomes warmer. Friends have to shake hands\nwith each other and pat each other on the back in order to show the\nwarmth of their feeling for one another. Women affectionately\nembrace one another. Parents and children, brothers and sisters, kiss\none another. It is impossible adequately to express affection without\nbodily touch. And in the case of lovers, as the love deepens so also\ndeepens the compelling need to express this love in bodily union of\nthe closest possible.\n\nAnd so the supreme moment arrives when each gives himself\nwholly, utterly, and for ever to the other--body, soul, and spirit--and\nthey twain are one. And the remarkable result ensues that each in\ngiving himself to the other has become more completely and truly\nhimself than he has ever been before. He strives to become more and\nmore closely wedded with the other. He yearns to give himself more\ncompletely and longs that there was more of himself to give. And he\ngives himself as completely as he can. Yet he has never before been\nso fully himself. The closeness and intimacy of the union, and all\nthat he has received, has enabled him to bring forth and give\nutterance to what had lain deep and dormant within him--all his\nfondest hopes, his dearest dreams, his highest aspirations. Each is\nmore himself in the other. He is, indeed, not himself without the\nother. Each has won possession of the other. Each has with joy and\ngladness given himself to the other. Each belongs to the other. Each\nis all the world to the other--a treasure without price. He is ever after\nin her as her own being. And she is in him as his own being. Apart\nfrom each other they are never again themselves. They are absorbed\nin mutual joy in one another.\n\nThe intensity of delight is more than they can bear. It brims up and\noverflows and goes bursting out to all the world. By being able to be\ntheir whole selves they have become more closely in touch with the\ndeepest Heart of Nature and nearest the Divine. In that hushed and\nsacred moment when the ecstasy of life and love is at its highest\nthey have never felt stronger, purer, lighter, nearer the Divine. They\nhave reached deep down to the most elemental part of their nature.\nAnd they have soared up highest to the most Divine. But Divine and\nelemental, spiritual and bodily, seem one. There seems to be nothing\nbodily which is not spiritual. And nothing elemental which is not\nDivine.\n\nIt is not often that they will attain these culminating heights of\nspiritual exaltation. Nor will they be able long to remain there. The\nlark, the eagle, the airman, have all to come to earth again. And they\nspend most of their lives on the earth. But the lovers will have\nknown what it is to soar. They will have found their wings. They\nwill have seen heaven once, and breathed its air. And all nature, all\nhuman relationships, will be for ever after transfigured in heaven's\nlight.\n\nThe state of being to which these twain have now arrived is the\nhighest and best in life. This spiritual union of man and woman--this\nunion of their souls which their bodily union has made possible in\ncompleteness--is that which of all else has most value. The\nfriendship of men for men and women for women is high up in the\nscale of being. But it is not at the supreme summit. The holy union\nof man and woman is higher still, because it is a relation of the\n_whole_ being of each to the other, and because it brings both into\ndirect and closest contact with the Primal Source of Things, and on\nthe line which points them highest. The relationship satisfies the\n_whole_ needs of the selves of each and satisfies the urgency of the\nHeart of Nature.\n\n* * *\n\nSo now our Artist will have experienced true spirituality in its\nhighest degree; and having experienced also the most elemental in\nhis nature, he will perforce have come in touch with Nature along\nher whole range. And his soul being at the finest pitch of\nsensitiveness, he will be able to appreciate Natural Beauty as never\nbefore. And nothing less than _natural_ beauties, and nothing less\nthan these beauties at their best, will in his exalted mood be\nsatisfying to him. He will be driven irresistibly into the open air and\nthe warm sunshine, and to the bosom of Mother-Earth. And there in\nthe blue of heaven and in dreamy clouds; in the wide sea, or in\ntranquil lakes; in ethereal mountains or in verdant woodlands; in the\nloveliness of flowers, and in the music of the birds, he will find that\nwhich his spirit seeks--that to which his spirit wants to give response.\nOnly there in the open, in the midst of Nature, will he find horizons\nwide enough, heights high enough, beauties rich enough, for his\nsoul's needs.\n\nThe flowers as he looks into them will disclose glories of colour,\ntexture, form, and fragrance he never yet had seen. The comely\nforms of trees, their varying greenery, and the dancing sunlight on\nthe leaves, will fill him with an intensity of delight that heretofore he\nhad never known. And as once more he goes among his fellow-men\nhe will see them in a newer and a truer light. His contact with them\nwill be easier; his friendships deeper; his certainty of affection surer;\nand his capacity for entering into every joy and sorrow\nimmeasurably enlarged.\n\nThrough his love, our ideal Artist will have been enabled to reach\ndeeper into the Heart of Nature than he had ever reached before, and\nto feel more intimately at one with her. And being thus in warmest\ntouch with her, Natural Beauty, strong, deep, and delicate as only\nfinest love can disclose, will be revealed to him. Enjoyment of\nNatural Beauty in its perfection is the prize he will have won.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE NATURE OF NATURE\n\nThe Artist is now in a position to take stock of Nature as a whole, of\nher nature, methods, and manner of working, of the motives which\nactuate her--of what, in short, she really is at heart. And having thus\nreviewed her, he will have to determine whether his wider and\ndeeper knowledge of Nature confirms or detracts from the\nimpression of her which he had gained from a contemplation of the\nforest's innumerable life. Upon this decision will depend his final\nattitude towards her. And upon his attitude towards her depends his\ncapacity for enjoying Natural Beauty. For if he has any doubt in his\nmind as to the goodness of Nature or any hesitation about giving\nhimself out to her, there is little prospect of his seeing Beauty in her.\nHe will remain cold and unresponsive to her calls and enjoyment of\nNatural Beauty will not be for him.\n\nAnd each of us--each for himself--just as much as the Artist will\nhave to make up his mind on this fundamental question. If we are to\nget the full enjoyment we should expect out of Natural Beauty we\nmust have a clear and firm conception in our minds of what Nature\nreally is, what is her essential character, whether at heart she is cold\nand callous or warm and loving. So far as we were justified in\ndrawing conclusions regarding the character of Nature as a whole\nfrom what we saw of her manifestations in the life of the forest, we\ncame to the conclusion that she was not so hard and repellent as she\nassuredly would be to us if her guiding principle of action were the\nsurvival of the fittest. We inferred, rather, from our observations of\nher in the forest that she was actuated by an aspiration towards what\nwe ourselves hold to be of most worth and value. We were therefore\nnot disillusioned by closer familiarity with her, but more closely\ndrawn towards her, and therefore prepared to see more Beauty in her.\nNow we have to review Nature as a whole--that is, in the Starry\nWorld as well as on this Earth--and see if the same conclusions hold\ngood, and if we are therefore justified in loving Nature, or if we\nshould view her with suspicion and distrust, hold ourselves aloof\nfrom her, and cultivate a stoic courage in face of a Power whose\ncharacter we must cordially dislike.\n\nThere are men who hold that the appearance of life and love on this\nEarth is a mere flash in the pan and comes about by pure chance.\nThey believe that life will be extinguished in a twinkling as we\ncollide with some other star, or will simply flicker out again as the\nSun's heat dies down and the Earth becomes cold. If this view be\ncorrect, then that impression of the reliability and kindliness of\nNature which we formed when contemplating the stars in the desert\nwould be a false impression; our feelings of friendship with Nature\nwould at once freeze up and our vision of Beauty vanish like a\nwraith.\n\nFortunately Truth and Knowledge do not deal so cruel a blow at\nBeauty. Far from it: they take her side. There are no grounds for\nsupposing that either chance or mechanism produces spirit, or that\nfrom merely physical and chemical combinations spirit can emerge.\nSpirit is no casual by-product of mechanical or chemical processes.\nSpirit is the governing factor regulating and controlling the physical\nmovements--controlling them, indeed, with such orderliness that we\nmay be apt from this very orderliness to regard the whole as a\nmachine and fail to see that all is directed towards high spiritual\nends.\n\nIf we are to appeal to reason, it is much more reasonable to assume\nthat spirit always existed, and that the conditions for the emergence\nof life were brought about on purpose, than to assume that spirit is a\nmere excretion, like perspiration, of chemical processes. Certainly\nthe former assumptions more clearly fit the facts of the case. For\nthese facts are, firstly, that we spiritual selves exist, next that we\nhave ideas of goodness and a determination to achieve it, next that\nplant as well as animal life on this Earth is purposive, then that the\nstars, numbering anything from a hundred to a thousand million,\neach of them a sun and many of them presumably with planets, are\nmade of the same materials as this Earth, the plants, animals, and\nourselves are composed of; that these materials have the same\nproperties; that the same fundamental laws of gravitation, heat,\nmotion, chemical and electrical action prevail there as here; and\nlastly that they are all connected with the Earth by some medium or\ncontinuum of energies, which enables vibrations, of which the most\nobvious are the vibrations of light, to reach the Earth from them.\nThese facts point towards the conclusion that the whole Universe, as\nwell as ourselves and the animals and plants on this Earth, is\nactuated by spirit. Goodness we have seen to be working itself out\non the Earth; and there is nothing we see in the world of stars that\nprevents us from concluding that in the Universe as well as on the\nEarth what _should_ be is the ground of what _is_.\n\nSomething higher than life, or life in some higher form than we\nknow, may indeed have been brought into being among the stars.\nLife has appeared in an extraordinary variety of forms on this Earth,\nand it would necessarily appear in other forms elsewhere. And it is\nnot difficult to imagine more perfect forms in which it might have\ndeveloped. We men are the most highly developed beings on this\nplanet. But our eyes and ears and other organs of sense take\ncognisance of only a few of the vibrations raining in upon our\nbodies from the outside world. There is a vast range of vibrations of\nthe medium in which we are immersed of which our bodily organs\ntake no cognisance whatever. If we had better developed organs we\nwould be in much more intimate touch with the world about us, and\nbe aware of influences and existences we are blind to now. Beings\nwith these superior faculties may very possibly have come into\nexistence among the stars.\n\nNor is there anything unreasonable in the assumption that from the\ninhabitants of these stars in their _ensemble_ issue influences which\ndirectly affect conditions on this Earth; that in the all in its\ntogetherness is Purpose; and that it was due to the working of this\nPurpose that conditions were produced on the Earth which made the\nemergence of life possible. To some it may seem that it was only by\nchance that the atoms and molecules happened to come together in\nsuch a particular way that from the combination the emergence of\nlife was possible. To men of such restricted vision it would seem\nequally a matter of chance that a heavenly song resulted when a\ndozen choirboys came together, opened their mouths and made a\nnoise. But men of wider vision would have seen that this song was\nno matter of chance, but was the result of the working out of a\npurpose; that the choirboys were brought together for a purpose; and\nthat that purpose was resident in each of a large number of people\nscattered about a parish, but who, though scattered, were all\nanimated by the same purpose of maintaining a choir to sing hymns.\nSo it is not unreasonable to suppose that when the particles came\ntogether under conditions that life resulted, they had been brought\ntogether in those conditions to fulfil a purpose resident in each of a\nnumber of beings and groups of beings scattered about the Universe,\nbut who, though scattered, were nevertheless animated by the same\npurpose. Anyhow, this seems a more reasonable assumption than the\nassumption that the particles came together by pure chance.\n\nBeings with these superior faculties may very possibly have\nemerged among the stars. It would seem not at all improbable,\ntherefore, that in some unrecognised way conditions on this Earth\nmay be influenced in their general outlines by what is taking place\nin the Universe at large, in the same way as conditions in a village in\nIndia are affected by public opinion in England as epitomised in the\ndecisions of the Cabinet. The remote Indian village is unaware that\nmen in England have decided to grant responsible government to\nIndia in due course. And even if the villagers were told of this they\nwould not realise the significance of the decision and how it would\naffect the fortunes of their village for good or ill during the next\ncentury or two. Conditions on this Earth may be similarly being\naffected by decisions made in other parts of the Universe--decisions\nthe significance of which we would be as totally unable to recognise\nas the Indian villagers are to recognise the significance of the steps\ntowards self-government which have just been made.\n\nThe Universe is so interconnected, and there is so much interaction\nbetween the parts and the whole, that the Earth may be more\naffected than we think by what goes on in the Universe at large. If\nthere are higher levels of being among the stars, it may well be that\nthe successive rises to higher levels on this Earth--from inorganic to\norganic, from organic to mental, and from the mental to the\nspiritual--have come about through this interaction between the parts\nand the whole. Conditions on this Earth may be more affected than\nwe are aware of by the Universe in its ensemble, and by the actions\nof higher beings in other Earths.\n\nIn this very matter of Beauty, for example, it may quite possibly be\nthe case that our intimation of Beauty has been received through the\ninfluence upon the most sensitive among us of beings in other parts\nof the Universe. We may be as unaware of the existence of those\nbeings or of their having feelings towards us as the Indian villager is\nof the existence of the Cabinet in London or of the Cabinet's feelings\ntowards him. But these stellar beings may be exerting their influence\nall the same. And it may be because of this influence that we men\nare able to see Beauty which escapes the eye of the eagle. Because\nof our higher receptiveness and responsiveness we may be able to\nreceive and respond to spiritual calls from the Heart of Nature. And\nthus it may have been that we men learned to see Beauty, and now\nlearn to see it more and more. There may be parts of the Universe\nwhere people live their lives in a blaze of Beauty, and are as anxious\nto impart to us their enjoyment of it as certain Freedom-loving\nEnglishmen are to instil ideas of Freedom into the villagers of India.\n\nThese, at any rate, are among the possibilities of existence. It would\nbe the veriest chance if on this little speck of an Earth the highest\nbeings of all had come to birth. It may be so, of course. But the\nprobabilities seem to be enormously great against it. It seems far\nmore probable that among the myriads of stars some higher beings\nthan ourselves have come into existence, and that conditions on this\nEarth are affected by the influence which they exert. We are under\nno compulsion whatever to believe that we men are completely at\nthe mercy of blind forces or that chance rules supreme in Nature.\nWe have firm ground for holding that it is spirit which is supreme,\nand that every smallest part and the whole together are animated by\nPurpose.\n\nSo when we view Nature in the tropical forests and in barren deserts,\nin mountains and in plains, in meadows and in woodlands, in seas\nand in stars, in animals and in men, we do not see Nature as a\nconfused jumble with all her innumerable parts come together in\nhaphazard fashion as the grains of sand shovelled into a heap--a\nchance aggregate of unrelated particles in which it is a mere toss-up\nwhich is next to which and how they are arranged. Nature is\nevidently not a chance collection of unrelated particles. We came to\nthat conclusion when studying the forest, and a study of the stars\nshows nothing to weaken that conclusion. Nature is animated by\nPurpose.\n\nYet because Nature is animated by Purpose, we need not regard her\nas a machine, a piece of mechanism which has been designed and\nput together, wound up and set going by some outside mechanician,\nand regard ourselves as cogs on the wheels, watching all the other\nwheels go round and through the maze of machinery catching sight\nof the mechanician standing by and watching his handiwork. A cog\non the wheel as it revolved would be rigidly confined in its\noperations: it would have no choice as to what means it should\nemploy to carry out its end. Yet even plants have the power of\nchoice, as we have seen, and use different means to achieve the\nsame end. They also spend their entire lives in selecting and\nrejecting--in selecting and assimilating what will nourish their\ngrowth and enable them to propagate their kind, and in rejecting\nwhat would be useless or harmful. These are something more than\nmechanical operations; and if Nature were a machine, not even\nplants, much less animals and men, could have been produced. The\noperations of Nature, though orderly, are not mechanical only, and\nwe cannot regard Nature as a machine.\n\nAnd if Nature is purposive, she is at work at something more than\nthe completion of a prearranged plan. We do not picture Nature as a\n_structure,_ as a Cathedral, for example, designed by some\nsuper-architect, in process of construction. In a Cathedral each stone is\nperfectly and finally shaped and placed in a position in which it\nmust ever after remain, and the whole shows signs of gradual\ncompletion as it is being built, and when it is built remains as it is.\nThe architect has made I and carried out his plan, and there is an end\nof the matter. It is not thus that we view Nature, for everywhere we\nsee signs of perfectibility in the component parts and in the whole\ntogether. Only if the Cathedral had in it the power to be continually\nmaking its foundations deeper, to be ever towering higher, and to be\nperpetually shaping itself into sublimer form, should we look on\nNature as a Cathedral. But in that case the mind of the architect\nwould have to dwell in each stone and in all together, and the\nCathedral would be something more than a structure in the ordinary\nuse of the word.\n\nNature is not a chance collection of particles, nor is she a mere\nmachine, nor some kind of structure like a Cathedral in course of\nconstruction. But she is a Power of some kind, and what we have to\ndetermine is the kind of Power she is. Now we have seen that\nrunning through the life of the forest, controlling and directing the\nwhole, is an Organising Activity. And our observation of the stars\nleads us to think that this same Organising Activity runs through\nthem also. There is quite evidently an Activity at work keeping the\nwhole together--the particles which go to form great suns, the\nparticles which go to form a flower, and the particles which go to\nform a man; and all in their togetherness. Only we would not look\nupon this Activity as working anywhere outside Nature: we would\nlook for it within her. We would not regard it as emanating from\nsome kind of spiritual central sun situated among the stars midway\nbetween us and the farthest star we see--as irradiating from some\nsort of centrally-situated spiritual power-house. As we look up into\nthe starry heavens we cannot imagine the Activity as residing in the\nempty space between the stars or between the stars and the Earth on\nwhich we stand. It seems absurd to picture its dwelling-place there.\nEqually absurd does it seem to regard the Activity as emanating\nfrom some spiritual sun situated far beyond the confines of the stars,\nand from there emitting spiritual rays upon Nature, including us men.\nAs we look out upon Nature we see that the Activity which animates\nher does not issue from any outside source, but is actually in her.\n\nWe do not need to look for the seat of that animating Activity in the\nempty spaces of the starry heavens or anywhere beyond them. We\nlook for it in the stars themselves, in our own star, in the Earth, in\nevery particle of which the stars and Sun and Earth are composed, in\nevery plant and animal, and in every human heart, and in the whole\ntogether. There it is--and especially in the human heart--that the soul\nof Nature resides. There is its dwelling-place. To each of us it is\nnearer than father is to son. It is as near as \"I\" am to each one of the\nmyriad particles which in their togetherness go to make up the body\nand soul which is \"me.\" The spirit of Nature is resident in no\nremoteness of cold and empty space. It is deep within us and all\naround us. It permeates everything and everybody, everywhere and\nalways. And if we wish to be unmistakably aware of its presence,\nwe have only to look within ourselves, and whenever we are\nconscious of a higher perfection which something within,\nresponding to the influences impinging insistently on us, is urging us\nto achieve; whenever we have a vision of something more perfect,\nmore lovely, more lovable, and feel ourselves urged on to reach after\nthat greater perfection--we are in those moments directly and\nunmistakably experiencing the Divine Spirit of Nature. Whenever\nwe feel the Spirit within us showing us greater perfectibility and\nprompting us to make ourselves and others more perfect than we\nhave been we are, in that moment, being directly influenced by the\nSpirit of Nature itself. We are receiving inspiration direct from the\ngenius of Nature, the _driving_ Spirit which is continually urging\nher on, and the _directing_ Spirit which guides her to an end. We are\nin touch with the true Heart of Nature.\n\nSo as we take a comprehensive view of Nature both in her outward\nbodily form and her inner spiritual reality, and find her to be an\ninterconnected whole in which all the parts are interrelated with one\nanother, one body and one mind, self-contained and self-conscious,\nand driven by a self-organising, self-governing, self-directing\nActivity--we should regard her as nothing _less_ than a _Personal\nBeing._ In ordinary language we speak of Nature as a Person, and\nwhen we so speak we should not regard ourselves as speaking\nfiguratively: we should mean quite literally and as a fact that she is a\nPerson. And we should look upon that Personal Being, in which we\nare ourselves included, as in process of realising an ideal hidden\nwithin her--an ideal which in its turn is ever perfecting itself.\n\n* * *\n\nWhat is meant by Nature being a Person, and a Person actuated by a\nhidden ideal, and being in process of realising that ideal, and what is\nmeant by an ideal perfecting itself, may be best explained with the\nhelp of an illustration.\n\nFirst it will be necessary to explain how we can regard Nature as a\n_Person,_ or at least as nothing less than a Person--though possibly\n_more._ It is contended by many authorities that we cannot regard\nany collective being, such as a college or a regiment--and Nature is a\ncollective being--as a true person. But their arguments are\nunconvincing. They allow that \"I\" am a person because \"I\" possess\nrationality and self-consciousness. But \"I\" am a system or\norganisation of innumerable beings--electrons, groupings of\nelectrons, groups of groupings in rising complexity. \"I\"--the body\nand soul which makes up \"me\"--am nothing but a collective being\nmyself. And if we take the case of \"England\" as an example of a\ncollective being, we shall see that England has as much right to be\nconsidered a personal being as any single Englishman, composed as\nhe is of innumerable separate beings.\n\nPerhaps to one who is representing England among strange peoples\nthe personality of England is more apparent than to those who are\nconstantly living in England itself. To the foreign people among\nwhom this representative is living England is a very real person.\nWhat she thinks about them, what she does, what her intentions are,\nwhat is her character and disposition, are matters of high interest; for\nupon England's good or ill will towards them may perhaps depend to\na large extent their own future. Viewed from a distance like that,\nEngland quite obviously does possess a _character_ of her own. She\nappears to some people large-hearted and generous; to others\naggressive and domineering; to most solid, sensible, reasonable,\nsteadfast, and steady. And to all she has a character quite distinctive\nand her own--quite different from the character of France or of\nRussia. And England with equal obviousness _thinks._ She forms\nher own opinions of other nations, of their character, intentions,\nactivities, and feelings. She thinks over her own line of action in\nregard to them. She takes decisions. And she _acts._ She is for a\nlong time suspicious of Russia, and takes measures to defend herself\nagainst any possible hostile Russian action. She later comes to the\nconclusion that there is no fundamental difference between her and\nRussia, so she takes steps to compose the superficial differences.\nLater still, when both she and Russia are being attacked by a\ncommon enemy, she deliberately places herself on terms of closest\nfriendship with Russia, and both gives her help and receives help\nfrom her. At the same time, having come to the conclusion that\nGermany is threatening her very life, she makes war on Germany,\nand prosecutes that war with courage, endurance, steadfastness and\nintelligence, and with a determination to win at any cost. England\nhas deep _feeling,_ too. She had a feeling of high exaltation on the\nday she determined to fight for her life and freedom. She had a\nfeeling of sadness and anxiety as things went against her at Mons,\nYpres, Gallipoli, Kut. She was wild with joy when the war was\nvictoriously concluded. And she was proud of herself as she thought\nhow among the sister nations of the Empire of which she was the\ncentre, and among the allied nations, she had played a great and\nnoble part.\n\nNow when a body, like England, can thus think for itself, form its\nown decisions, take action, establish friendships, fight enemies, and\nfeel deeply, surely that body must possess personality. In ordinary\nlanguage England is always spoken of as a person. And ordinary\nlanguage speaks with perfect accuracy in this respect.\n\nIn her relations with individual Englishmen England also shows her\npersonality. The representative abroad feels very vividly how she\n_expects_ him to act in certain ways--ways in accordance with her\ncharacter and her settled line of action. And she conveys these\nexpectations to him not only in formal official instructions from her\nGovernment: the most important of those expectations are conveyed\nin a far more subtle and intimate but most unmistakable way. The\nEnglish Government did not write officially to Nelson at Trafalgar\nthat England expected every man to do his duty. But Nelson,\nstanding there for England, knew very well that this was what\nEngland was expecting of him and of those serving under him. A\nrepresentative would find it very hard to locate the exact\ndwelling-place of the heart and soul and mind of England, whether in\nParliament, or in the Press, or in the Universities, or in factories, or\nin the villages. But that there is an England expecting him to behave\nhimself in accordance with her traditions and character, and to act on\ncertain general but quite definite lines, and who will admire and\nreward him if he acts faithfully to her expectations, and condemn\nand in extreme cases punish him if he is unfaithful, he has not the\nshadow of a doubt. Nor does he doubt that this England, besides\nexpecting a certain general line of conduct, will and can _constrain_\nhim to act in accordance with her settled determination--that she has\nauthority and has power to give effect to her will.\n\nAnd the official governmental representatives are not the only\nrepresentatives of England. _Every_ Englishman is a representative\nof England. How representative he is he will experience as he finds\nhimself among strange peoples outside his own country. He will find\nthen that he has certain traits and traditions and characteristics which\nclearly distinguish him from the people among whom he is\ntravelling. And unofficial though he may be, he will yet feel\nEngland expecting him to behave as an Englishman. And though he\nmay not be so vividly aware of it when he is at home, he is still a\nrepresentative of England when he is in England itself. In everyday\nlife he is being expected and constrained by England to act in certain\nways.\n\nNor is it all a one-sided affair--England expecting so much of him\nand he having no say or control over what England does. On the\ncontrary, the relationship is mutual. He goes to the making and\nshaping of England just as much as she goes to the making and\nshaping of him. He expects certain behaviour of her as she expects\nsuch of him. And if he has gained the confidence of his\nfellow-countrymen and has energy and determination, he may do much to\naffect her destiny.\n\nEngland is therefore, so it seems, a _person_ just as much as a single\nEnglishman is a person. Englishmen, in fact, only attain their full\npersonality in an England which _has_ personality.\n\n* * *\n\nNow Nature, I suggest, in spite of what has been said against the\nview, is a Person in exactly the same way as England is a person.\nNature is a collective being made up of component beings--self-active\nelectrons, self-active atoms, self-active suns and planets, self-active\ncells, plants, animals, men, and groups and nations of men--as\nEngland is made up of the land of England and all that springs\ntherefrom, including the Englishmen themselves. Nature thinks and\nfeels and strives as England thinks and feels and strives. And Nature\ncares for her children as England looks after her sons. It is often said,\nindeed, that Nature is hard and cruel. But it is only through the\nunfailing regularity and reliability of her fundamental laws--of her\n\"constitution\"--that freedom and progress are possible. If we could\nnot depend upon perfect law we could make no advance whatever.\nWe should all be abroad and uncertain. Yet in spite of her unbending\nrigidity over fundamentals, she does also show mercy and pity. A\nchild toddling along downhill unregardful of the force of gravitation\nfalls on its face and screams with pain. But Nature, represented by\nthe mother, rushes up, seizes the little thing in her arms, presses it\nlovingly to her bosom, rock it and coaxes it and covers it with kisses.\n\nSo if Nature can think and feel and strive and show mercy and\nloving-kindness, she is entitled to the dignity of personality. And\nwhen we stand back and regard Nature as a whole, we shall look\nupon her as a Person and nothing less.\n\n* * *\n\nWe have now to understand what is meant by saying that Nature is a\nPerson actuated by a hidden ideal and being in process of realising\nthat ideal. When travelling across the Gobi Desert I found a yellow\nrose--a dwarf, simple, single rose. It is known to botanists as _Rosa\npersica,_ and is believed to be the original of all roses. I found it on\nthe extreme outlying spurs of the Altai Mountains. Now, a seed of\nthe rose, partly under the influence of its surroundings (soil,\nmoisture, air, sunshine) but chiefly _by virtue of something which it\ncontains within itself,_ something inherent in its very nature, will\ngrow up into a rose-bush and give forth roses. The seed develops\ninto a rose, not because some outside super-gardener takes hold of\neach one of the million million ultra-microscopic particles of which\nit is made up and puts it carefully into its appointed place, as a\nbuilder might put the stones of a building into their exact places\naccording to the plans of an architect; but because each of those\nminutest ultimate particles has that within it which prompts it to act\nof its own accord in response to the call of the whole. Each of these\nelectrons is in incessant and terrific motion, moving at the rate of\nsomething like 180,000 miles a second, so placing it in position\nwould be a difficult matter. Besides which, each electron is not a\ntiny bit of matter as we ordinarily conceive matter--something which\nwe can touch and handle. It is a mere centre or nucleus of energy.\nAny placing of it in position by a super-gardener is therefore out of\nthe question. Each of those little particles moves and acts of itself in\naccordance with its own inner promptings, and in response to the\ninfluence of those other myriads of particles and groups of particles\nabout it. And that system of these groups of particles which is\nenclosed within the rondure of the seed must have within it the ideal\nof the rose to be. Each particle will act on its own initiative, but all\nwill act under the mutual influence of one another, and in their\ntogetherness will make up the rose-spirit, being informed by the\nideal of the rose which in its turn will suffuse the whole. And this\nrose-spirit--this rose-disposition--as it gives itself play, so controls\nand directs their movements that eventually the full-blown rose\ncomes into being.\n\nWhat happens is, we may imagine, much the same as what happened\nin the case of Australia. A handful of settlers from the\nmother-country formed the germ-seed from which the Australia of to-day\nhas grown up. There was no external despot ordering each\nindividual Australian to do this, that, and the other--to come this\nway and go that, and to stop in one place this year and in another\nplace the next. Each Australian acting on his own initiative, and all\nin their togetherness, created the Australian spirit, which again\nreacting upon each Australian induced him to act in accordance with\nthat spirit. And so in time Australia, assimilating individuals from\noutside and absorbing them into its texture, and imbuing them with\nthe Australian spirit, grew up into manhood in the Great War and\nastonished the world by its strong individuality, its character,\nintelligence, determination, and good comradeship.\n\nIn the same way these particles of the rose-seed, each acting of itself,\nin their collectivity formed the rose-spirit. And each was in turn\nimbued by the rose-spirit. They had in them unconsciously the ideal\nof the rose-bush with its roots, stem, branches, leaves, flowers, fruit,\nseed. In all their activities they were actuated by this ideal. It was\nalways constraining them in the given direction. By reason of the\nworking of it in the particles they could by no possibility arrange\nthemselves into a may tree or a lilac bush. There was an inner core\nof activity which persisted through all the countless changes of the\nprocess, which permeated the whole and which kept it directed to\nthe particular end it had all the time in view. That activity had, in\nfact, a well-defined disposition, and that disposition was defined by\nthe ideal of the rose, and was to form a rose-bush bearing roses.\n\nThat the rose-seed developed into the rose was due, therefore, not to\nthe operation of any outside agent, but was due to the operation of\nthe rose-spirit that it had within it, and which was persistently\ndriving it to bring into actual being that ideal of the rose which was\nthe essence of its spirit. The ideal of the rose was the motive-power\nof the whole process.\n\nWhere the rose-spirit derived from we shall later on enquire. Here\nwe must note a point of the utmost importance. The seed of this\n_Rosa persica_ is imbued with the spirit of _Rosa persica._ It has\nthis ideal working within it. But it is not confined within the rigid\nlimits of that ideal. It has that ideal, but _something beyond also_\n--something in the _direction_ of that ideal, but stretching on ahead to\nan illimitable distance. The rose-seed developed riot only into the\nrose-flower, but through the flowers into numerous rose-seeds. And\nfrom the original _Rosa persica_ seeds have sprung roses of scores\nof varieties. Roses of every variety of form, colour, habit, texture are\nconstantly appearing. By purposeful mating, and supplying\nfavourable conditions of soil, temperature, etc., almost any kind of\nvariety can be produced. So we have not only yellow roses of every\nshade from gold and cream to lemon, but also white and red and\npink roses of every hue. We have single roses and roses as full as\nsmall cabbages. And we have dwarf roses and roses climbing 50 or\n60 feet in height.\n\nFrom all this it is evident that within the original seed of _Rosa\npersica_ was a rose-spirit which refused to be confined within the\nlimits of _Rosa persica_ only, but stretched out far beyond as well.\nThe rose-spirit had latent in it, and was unconsciously stretching out\nto, all the beauties which roses have since attained to, and beyond\nthat again to all the beauties that are yet to come. The horizon of the\nrose-spirit was never confined by a single plan--the plan of the\n_Rosa persica_--as the builder is confined by the plan of the\narchitect, beyond which he cannot go. The rose-spirit could reach\nout along the line of roses to an unlimited extent. It could produce\nnothing but roses; it could not produce laburnums. But it could\nproduce roses of unlimited variety, provided favourable conditions\nwere available.\n\nBut the _Rosa persica_ was itself the outcome of a long line of\ndevelopment from a far-away primordial plant-germ. From that\noriginal plant-germ have sprung all the ferns and grasses, the shrubs\nand trees and flowers, of the present day. So in that plant-germ must\nhave resided the plant-spirit with an ideal of all this variety of\nplant-life actuating it--unconsciously, of course, but most effectively for\nall that. The particles of that original germ in their individual\nactivities and in their mutual influence upon one another were in\ntheir togetherness actuated by a plant-spirit which had in mind--so to\nspeak--not only the reproduction of a plant precisely similar to the\noriginal plant, but one with the possibilities of development and of\nreproducing others with possibilities of still further development. All\nthat plant life has so far attained and all that it will attain to in\nfuture--perhaps also all that it _might_ have attained to--must have\nbeen present in the plant-spirit of that original plant-germ. And it is\nthrough the working out--the realising--of this ideal which actuated\nthat plant-spirit, and through the response which this spirit made to\nthe stimulus of its surroundings that all the wonderful development\nof plant life has taken place. The plant-spirit had to keep within the\nlines of plant life; it could not stray beyond it to develop lions and\ntigers. But within the lines of plant life it could stretch out to\nillimitable distances. All that was wanted was the stimulus of\nfavourable conditions, and from its surroundings it could select,\nreject, assimilate, all that would further its end.\n\n* * *\n\nIn the Gobi Desert I also saw the wild horse--_Equus Prjevalskyi_\n--supposed to be the original horse. And as the rose springs from the\nseed, so the horse develops from the ovum. And by virtue of the\nhorse-spirit, the horse-ideal, by which all the innumerable particles\nof that ovum is actuated, it develops into a horse, and not into a\ndonkey or a cow. But the ovum of the original _Equus Prjevalskyi_\nmust have had in it the ideal of something more than the _Equus\nPrjevalskyi,_ for from the original stock has sprung the great variety\nof horses we see to-day--race-horses, cart-horses, hunters, polo\nponies, Shetland ponies, etc. And these are still varying. And the\n_Equus Prjevalskyi_ was itself the outcome of a long line of\ndevelopment. Like all other animals, including man, it must have\nsprung from an original animal-germ. And the particles of that\noriginal animal-germ must have had in them the animal-spirit\nactuated by the ideal of all the animals of the present day, including\nman, and ready to develop as soon as favourable conditions\nprovided the necessary stimulus to which the germ was ready to\nrespond.\n\nAnd both the original plant-germ and the original animal-germ\nsprang from an original plant-animal germ. And this, again, from the\nEarth itself. So that the Earth must always have had hidden in it the\nideal of all plant and animal and human life--and not only the ideal\nof what it has reached at present, but of all it _will_ become, and, it\nis important to note, of all it _might_ become in future. It is the\nworking of this ideal in the Earth, from the time five hundred\nmillion years or so ago when it budded off from the Sun as a fiery\nmist, that it has, under the influence of the light and heat of the Sun,\nand possibly also under the influences from the Stellar Universe as\nwell, produced what we see to-day. The Earth-Spirit was inspired by\nthis ideal, and in the ideal was this capacity for improving itself.\nAnd through the working of this ideal, and under the influence of the\nrest of the world, the Earth has developed from a flaming sphere into\na molten ball, into a globe of barren land and sea, and so on into the\nverdure-covered and animal- and man-inhabited Earth of the present\nage. The Earth, like the rose-seed, contained within it a core of\nActivity which permeated every particle and constrained it with its\nfellow-particles to direct itself towards the ideal--a core of Activity\nwhich was animated by the ideal, while the ideal on its part had an\ninnate faculty of perfecting itself.\n\nBut the Earth is itself only a minute mite even of the Solar System.\nAnd the Sun is only one of perhaps a thousand million other stars,\nsome so distant that light travelling at the rate of 186,000 miles a\nsecond must have started from them before the birth of Christ to\nreach us to-day. Nevertheless the Earth is composed of the same\nultimate particles of matter that even the most distant stars are made\nof. The Earth, the Sun and stars, are composed of electrons which\nare all alike. Doubtless there are individual differences between\nelectrons as there are between men, but in a general way they are as\nmuch alike as all men appear alike to an eagle. And of these\nelectrons the whole Universe is made as well as the Earth. The same\nlaws of motion, of gravitation, and of electro-magnetic and chemical\nattraction, obtain there as here. The scale of the Stellar World is\nimmensely larger than the scale we are accustomed to on this Earth.\nBut the same fundamental laws everywhere prevail, and the Earth\nand stars are composed of the same material.\n\nSo it must have been from the Heart of Nature as a whole that the\nEarth-Spirit must have derived the ideal which actuated it. Deep in\nthe Heart of Nature must have resided the ideal of the state of the\nEarth as it is to-day. In the great world as a whole, as in the\nrose-seed, must have been operating an ideal at least of what is on the\nEarth to-day, and of what this Earth will become and of what it\nmight become; and possibly _also_ of greater things which have\nalready been realised, or _will_ be realised and _might_ be realised\nin the planets of other suns than our Sun. There must ever have been\nworking throughout the Universe an Activity constraining the\nultimate particles in a given direction. There must have been an\nOrganising Activity, collecting the diffused particles together,\ngrouping them into concentrated organisms and achieving loftier\nand loftier modes of being. Each of those inconceivably numerous\nand incredibly minute particles which make up the stars and the\nEarth and all on it--each one acted of itself. But each acted of itself\nunder the influence of its fellows--that is, of every other particle;\nthat is, of the _whole._ Each acted in response to its surroundings,\nbut its surroundings were nothing short of the whole of Nature\noutside itself. Together they formed the Spirit of Nature with the\nideal as its essence. And Nature in her turn acted on the particles--as\nEnglishmen form the spirit of England and the spirit of England acts\nback upon individual Englishmen.\n\nIt was the working of this Spirit, with its self-improving ideal, that\nhas produced Nature as we see her to-day. The distant ideal\nfurnished the motive-power by which the whole is driven forward.\nAnd this ideal was itself built up by the unceasing interaction of the\nwhole upon the parts and the parts upon the whole. What was in the\nparts responded to the stimulus of what was in the whole, and the\nwhole was affected by the activity of the parts. What was immanent\nresponded to what was transcendent. And the transcendence was\naffected by the immanence.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nNATURE'S IDEAL\n\nIf we have been right so far, we have arrived at the position that\nNature is a Personal Being in process of realising an ideal operating\nwithin herself. We have now to satisfy ourselves as to the character\nof that ideal. What is the full ideal working in the whole of Nature\nwe cannot possibly know. We can only know so much of it as can be\ndetected with our imperfect faculties on this minute atom of the\nUniverse on which we dwell. We cannot be sure we have even\ndiscerned the highest levels of the ideal. For there may be higher\nbeings than ourselves on the planets of the stars, and among those\nhigher beings higher qualities than any we know of, or can conceive,\nmay have emerged. Love is the highest quality we know. But love in\nany true sense of the word--love as a self-conscious activity--has\nonly emerged with man, and man has only appeared within the last\nhalf-million of the Earth's four or five hundred million years of\nexistence as the Earth. We cannot, therefore, presume to say what is\nthe ideal in its highest development for the whole of Nature.\n\nBut from our experience here we can see what that ideal is up to\n(what for us is) a very high level, and we can make out what is\napparently its fundamental characteristic. I obtained my best\nconception of it on the evening I left Lhasa at the conclusion of my\nMission to Tibet in 1904, when I had an experience of such value\nfor determining Nature's ideal, and, for me at any rate, so\nconvincingly corroborative of the conclusions which others who\nhave had similar experiences have drawn from them as to Nature's\nideal, that I hope I may be excused for relating in some detail the\ncircumstances in which it came to me.\n\nThese circumstances, though not the experience itself, were\nsomewhat exceptional. I was at that particular moment at the highest\npitch of existence--that is to say, of my own existence. I had had an\nunusually wide experience of the wild countries of that most\ninteresting and varied of the continents--Asia, and for that reason\nhad been specially selected for the charge of a Mission to Tibet.\nHowever ill-qualified I might be for other tasks, for this particular\nbusiness of establishing neighbourly relations with a very secluded\nand seclusive Asiatic people, difficult of approach both on account\nof their natural disposition and of the mighty mountain barrier which\nstood between them and the rest of the world, I was esteemed to\nhave peculiar qualifications. My comrades were also men selected\nfor their special qualifications--one for his knowledge of the\nTibetans, another for his knowledge of the Chinese, another for his\nknowledge of geology, and so on. The troops engaged were selected\nfor their experience in frontier warfare, and each man had had to\npass a medical test. We were at the top of our physical fitness and\nripe in experience.\n\nBesides British officers and a few British troops, there were among\nthe soldiers Sikhs, Pathans, Gurkhas, a few Bengalis, a few Rajputs\nand Dogras; and among the followers were Bhutias and Lepchas\nfrom Sikkim, Baltis from Kashmir, Bhutanese from Bhutan. There\nwere thus Christians, Mohammedans, Hindus, and Buddhists: men\nfrom an island in the Atlantic, and men from the remotest valleys of\nthe Himalaya. And our destination had been a sacred city hidden\ntwo hundred miles behind the loftiest range of mountains in the\nworld.\n\nOn our way we had had to battle with the elements of Nature in very\nnearly their extremest forms and in every variety. We started in the\nsweltering heat of the plains of India in the hottest season. We\npassed the lower outer ranges of the Himalaya in the midst of\ntorrential rain, like the heaviest thunder-shower in England,\ncontinuing all day long and day after day with scarcely a break, and\npenetrating through a waterproof coat as if it were paper. Following\nthis we had to cross the main axis of the Himalaya in January, to\npass the winter at an altitude of 15,000 feet above sea-level, and face\nblizzards which cut through heavy fur coats and left us as if we were\nstanding before it in our bare bones.\n\nWe had also had to battle with the Tibetans--not only in actual\nfighting, but in diplomacy as well. I had deliberately risked my life\nin order to effect a settlement by persuasion and without resort to\narms. Officers and men at my request had done the same.\nSubsequently we had both attacked and been attacked. Five hundred\nof us had for two months to face the attacks of eight thousand\nTibetans. Later, again, we had had a long, tough, diplomatic contest\nwith the Tibetans.\n\nBesides battling with the elements and with the Tibetans, I had also\nhad to battle with my own people--as is always and inevitably the\ncase on such occasions. Military and political considerations had to\ncontend against each other. This local question between India and\nTibet was part of the general international question of the relations\nof European nations, Russia, France, Germany, Italy, America, with\nChina, for Tibet was under the suzerainty of China. Local\nconsiderations had therefore to contend with international\nconsiderations. Then from the local point of view the permanent\nsettlement of this particular question was desirable, whereas those\nresponsible for the international situation would not object to a\ntemporary arrangement of this single question as long as the whole\ngeneral situation could be favourably secured. The Tibetan question\nwas part of the whole question of our relations with Russia. Our\nrelations with Russia were connected with our relations with France.\nWe were coming to an arrangement with France as regards Egypt\nand Morocco. If we did anything in Tibet which vexed Russia she\nmight be troublesome as regards Egypt, and make it difficult to\ncome to an arrangement with France and to bring off the\nAnglo-French Entente. Of all these international considerations I was kept\naware by Government even in the heart of Tibet. But my position\nrequired that I should stand up for the political as against the\nmilitary, the local as against the international, and the permanent\nsettlement as against the temporary arrangement. It was my duty\nvigorously to battle for this--as it was equally the duty of the\nmilitary and those responsible for international affairs to battle for\ntheir own point of view. And of course I had to submit, after\ncontesting my standpoint, to the decision of those in authority;\nthough I had to contend for the particular, it was the general which\nhad to prevail.\n\nIn the end a settlement was reached, and in this remote city we had\nreceived congratulations from many different people in many\ndifferent lands. The troops, my staff, and all about me were filled\nwith delight at the success of our enterprise. Even the Tibetans\nthemselves seemed pleased at the settlement; at any rate, they asked\nto be taken under our protection. On the morning we left Lhasa the\nLama Regent, who in the absence of the Dalai Lama had conducted\nnegotiations with us, paid us a farewell visit and gave us the\nimpression of genuine goodwill towards us. We and the Tibetans\nhad contended strongly against one another. But it seemed that a\nway had been found by which good relations between us could be\nmaintained. We had discovered that fundamentally we were\nperfectly well-disposed towards each other, and means had been\nfound for composing our differences. Throughout the Mission we\nhad kept before us the supreme importance of securing this goodwill\neventually. The Tibetan frontier runs with the Indian frontier for a\nthousand miles, and it would have been the height of folly to have\nstirred up in the Tibetans a lasting animosity. Far more important,\nthen, than securing the actual treaty we regarded securing the\npermanent goodwill; and when I felt that through the exertion of my\nStaff and the good behaviour of the troops as well as through my\nown efforts the goodwill of the Tibetans really had been secured, my\nsatisfaction was profound.\n\nIt was after enduring all these hardships, after running all these risks,\nand after battling in all these controversies, that this deep\nsatisfaction came upon me. For though at times I felt, as every\nleader feels in like circumstances, that success must have been due\nto everyone else besides myself--to the backing and firm direction I\nhad received from Government, to the sound advice and help of my\nStaff, to the bravery and endurance of the troops, without all or any\none of which aids success would have been unattainable--yet I could\nnot help also feeling that I had often on my own responsibility to\nmake decisions and run risks, and to give advice to Government;\nand that if I had erred in my decisions or in the advice I gave or in\ntaking the risks, success most assuredly would not have been\nachieved, however much support I received from elsewhere. I had,\ntherefore, that satisfaction a man naturally feels when his special\nqualifications and training and the experience he has gained during\nthe best part of his life have proved of acknowledged good to his\ncountry. And this was the frame of mind in which I rode out of\nLhasa on our march homeward.\n\nThese were the circumstances in which I had the experience I now\nventure to describe. After arrival in camp I went off into the\nmountains alone. It was a heavenly evening. The sun was flooding\nthe mountain slopes with slanting light. Calm and deep peace lay\nover the valley below me--the valley in which Lhasa lay. I seemed\nin tune with all the world and all the world seemed in tune with me.\nMy experiences in many lands--in dear distant England; in India and\nChina; in the forests of Manchuria, Kashmir, and Sikkim; in the\ndesert of Gobi and the South African veldt; in the Himalaya\nmountains; and on many an ocean voyage; and experiences with\nsuch varied peoples as the Chinese and Boers, Tibetans and\nMahrattas, Rajputs and Kirghiz--seemed all summed up in that\nmoment. And yet here on the quiet mountain-side, filled as I was\nwith the memories of many experiences that I had had in the high\nmountain solitudes and in the deserts of the world away from men, I\nseemed in touch with the wide Universe beyond this Earth as well.\n\nAfter the high tension of the last fifteen months, I was free to let my\nsoul relax. So I let it open itself out without restraint. And in its\nsensitive state it was receptive of the finest impressions and quickly\nresponsive to every call. I seemed to be truly in harmony with the\nHeart of Nature. My vision seemed absolutely clear. I felt I was\nseeing deep into the true heart of things. With my soul's eye I\nseemed to see what was really in men's hearts, in the heart of\nmankind as a whole and in the Heart of Nature as a whole.\n\nAnd my experience was this--and I try to describe it as accurately as\nI can. I had a curious sense of being literally in love with the world.\nThere is no other way in which I can express what I then felt. I felt\nas if I could hardly contain myself for the love which was bursting\nwithin me. It seemed to me as if the world itself were nothing but\nlove. We have all felt on some great occasion an ardent glow of\npatriotism. This was patriotism extended to the whole Universe. The\ncountry for which I was feeling this overwhelming intensity of love\nwas the entire Universe. At the back and foundation of things I was\ncertain was love--and not merely placid benevolence, but active,\nfervent, devoted love and nothing less. The whole world seemed in a\nblaze of love, and men's hearts were burning to be in touch with one\nanother.\n\nIt was a remarkable experience I had on that evening. And it was not\nmerely a passing roseate flush due to my being in high spirits, such\nas a man feels who has had a good breakfast or has heard that his\ninvestments have paid a big dividend. I am not sure that I was at the\nmoment in what are usually called high spirits. What I felt was more\nof the nature of a deep inner soul-satisfaction. And what I saw\namounted to this--that evil is the superficial, goodness the\nfundamental characteristic of the world; affection and not animosity\nthe root disposition of men towards one another. Men are inherently\ngood not inherently wicked, though they have an uphill fight of it to\nfind scope and room for their goodness to declare itself, and though\nthey are placed in hard conditions and want every help they can to\nbring their goodness out. Fundamentally men are consuming with\naffection for one another and only longing for opportunity to exert\nthat affection. They want to behave straightly, honourably, and in a\nneighbourly fashion towards one another, and are only too thankful\nwhen means and conditions can be found which will let them\nindulge this inborn feeling of fellowship. Wickedness, of course,\nexists. But wickedness is not the essential characteristic of men. It is\ndue to ignorance, immaturity, and neglect, like the naughtinesses of\nchildren. It springs from the conditions in which men find\nthemselves, and not from any radical inclination within themselves.\nWith maturity and reasonable conditions the innate goodness which\nis the essential characteristic will assert itself. This is what came to\nme with burning conviction. And it arose from no ephemeral sense\nof exhilaration, nor has it since evaporated away. It has remained\nwith me for fifteen years, and so I suppose will last for the rest of\nmy life. Of course in a sense there has been disillusionment, both as\nto myself and as to the world. As one comes into the dull round of\neveryday life the glow fades away and all seems grey and colourless.\nNevertheless, the conviction remains that the glow was the _real,_\nand that the grey is the superficial. The glow was at the heart and is\nwhat some day _will_ be--or, anyhow, _might_ be.\n\nAn additional ground I have for believing it to be true is that on that\nmountain-side near Lhasa I had a specially favourable opportunity\nof looking at the world from, as it were, a proper focal distance. And\nit is only from a proper focal distance that we can see what things\nreally are. If we put ourselves right up against a picture in the\nNational Gallery we cannot possibly see its beauty--see what the\npicture really is. No man is a hero to his own valet. And that is not\nbecause a man is not a hero, but because the valet is too close to see\nthe real man. Cecil Rhodes at close quarters was peevish, irritable,\nand like a big spoilt child. Now at a distance we know him, with all\nhis faults, to have been a great-souled man. Social reformers near at\nhand are often intolerable bores and religious fanatics frequently a\npestilential nuisance. We have to get well away from a man to see\nhim as he really is. And so it is with mankind as a whole.\n\nSo I become more and more certain that my vision was true. And the\nexperience of the Great War strengthens my conviction. As we\nrecede from it, what will stand out, we may be sure, are not the\ncrimes and cruelties that have been committed and the suffering that\nhas been caused, but the astounding heroism which was displayed,\nthe self-sacrifice, the devotion and love of country that were\nshown--heroism and devotion such as have never before in the world's\nhistory been approached, and which was manifested by common\neveryday men and women in every branch of life and in every\ncountry.\n\n* * *\n\nThe conclusion I reach from this experience is that I was, at the\nmoment I had it, intimately in touch with the true Heart of Nature. In\nmy exceptionally receptive mood I was directly experiencing the\ngenius of Nature in the very act of inspiring and vitalising the whole.\nI was seeing the Divinity in the Heart streaming like light and heat\nthrough every part of Nature, and with the dominating forcefulness\nof love lifting each to its own high level.\n\nAnd my experience was no unique experience. It was an experience\nthe like of which has come to many men and many women in every\nland in all ages. It may not be common; but it is not unusual. And in\nall cases it gives the same certainty of conviction that the Heart of\nNature is _good,_ that men are not the sport of chance, but that\nDivine Love is a real, an effectively determining and the dominant\nfactor in the processes of Nature, and Divine fellowship the essence\nof the ideal which is working throughout Nature and compelling all\nthings unto itself.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nTHE HEART OF NATURE\n\nThat Nature is a Personal Being--or at least nothing _less_ than a\nPersonal Being--that she is actuated by an ideal, and that her ideal,\nso far as we are able to judge, is an ideal of Divine Fellowship, is the\nconclusion at which we have now arrived. But we shall understand\nNature better, and so see her Beauty more fully, if we can\nunderstand how she works out this ideal in detail. And we shall best\nunderstand how she works it out if we examine what goes on within\nour own selves and see how _we_ work out the ideal with which we\nbelieve Nature herself has inspired us. For it is in ourselves that the\ndominating spirit of Nature is most clearly manifested to us. And\nbeing ourselves the instruments and agents of Nature, and informed\nthrough and through with her spirit, we ought to be able to\nunderstand how she works if only we look carefully enough into the\nworking of our own inner selves.\n\nWhat we find is that under the inspiration of the genius of Nature we\nare perpetually projecting in front of us a pattern or standard of what\nwe think we ought to be, or should like to be, and of what we think\nour country and the world ought to be. We set up an ideal. It is\ngenerally very vague. But there is always at the back of our minds\nan idea of something more perfect. And this idea we bring out from\ntime to time from its seclusion and set up before us as an end to aim\nat.\n\nSometimes we deliberately try to draw the outlines of this ideal\nmore definitely. Each of us will picture a slightly different ideal to\nthe rest. The ideal men will differ just as much as actual men, and\nthe ideal countries as much as actual countries. No two will be\nexactly alike. And each of us will probably make his ideal man very\ndifferent from himself--perhaps the exact opposite, for each will be\npeculiarly conscious of his own imperfections and shortcomings.\n\nBut if the ideal man which each sets up differs in small particulars\nfrom what others set up, the general outline of all will probably be\nvery much the same, as men in general are much the same when\ncompared with other animals. All will be based on the idea of\nfellowship. So aided by examples chosen from among our friends,\nwe may here attempt to build up an ideal type of man. For the effort\nwill help us to realise better both what Nature is aiming at and how\nshe works.\n\nFormerly we might have drawn this ideal man upright, straight, rigid,\nunbending. More recently we might have drawn him as a super-man,\nthe fittest-to-survive kind of man, all muscular will, intent only on\nbending every other will to his and crashing relentlessly on through\nlife like a bison in the forest. But nowadays we want a man with the\nsame reliability as the upright type, but with grace and suppleness in\nplace of rigidity; and with the same strength as the super-man, but\nwith gentleness and consideration in proportion to the strength. We\ndo not want a man of wood; and what we do want is not so much a\nsuper-man as a gentle-man--a man of courtesy and grace as well as\nstrength.\n\nThe stiff and stilted type of a bygone age will have melted under the\nwarmth of deepening fellowship and become flowing and fluid. The\nman of this type will not only be full of consideration for others, but\nwill naturally, out of a full and overflowing heart and of his own\ngenerous prompting, eagerly enter into the lives and pursuits, the\nhopes and fears, the joys and sorrows of those with whom he is\nconnected. And with all this wide _general_ kindliness he will be\nsomething more than merely amiable and good-natured, and will\nhave capacity for intense devotion for _particular_ men and women.\nHe will necessarily have fine tact and address, adroitness and skill in\nhandling difficult and delicate situations, and the sensitiveness to\nappreciate the most hidden feelings of others. Wit and distinction he\nwill have, too, with ability to discern the real nature of people and\nevents, and to distinguish the best from the good, and the good from\nthe indifferent and bad. He will also possess that peculiar sweetness\nof disposition which is only found when behind it is the surest\nstrength. And with all his gentleness, tenderness, and capacity for\nsympathy he will have the grit and spirit to hold his own, to battle\nfor his rights, and to fight for those conditions which are absolutely\nnecessary for his full development. He will, in addition, have the\ninitiative to think out and strike out his own line and to make his\nown mark.\n\nHe will be a man of the world in the sense of being accustomed to\nmeet and mix with men in many different walks of life and of many\ndifferent nationalities. And he will be a man of the home in the\nsense of being devoted to his own family circle. He will be at home\nin the town and at home in the country; adapted to the varied society,\ninterests, and pursuits which town life can afford, but devoted also\nto the country, to the open air and elemental nature and animals and\nplants.\n\nA fixed principle and firm determination with him will be to do his\nduty--to do his social duty, to do the right thing at whatever\ntemporary cost to himself. The right thing for him will be that which\nproduces most good. And he will deem that the most good which\nbest promotes human fellowship, warms it with love, colours it with\nbeauty, enlightens it with truth, and sweetens it with grace. Finally,\nand culminatingly, he will have that spirituality and fine\nsensitiveness of soul which will put him in touch with the true Heart\nof Nature and make him eagerly responsive to the subtlest\npromptings which spring therefrom; so he will be possessed of a\nprofound conviction, rooted in the very depths of his being, that in\ndoing the right thing, or in other words pursuing righteousness, he is\ncarrying out the will and intention of that Divine Being whom we\nhere call Nature but whom we might also call God.\n\nThis, or something like it, is the ideal of a man which most of us\nwould form under the impress and impetus of the indwelling genius\nof Nature. But this ideal can only be reached by an individual when\nhis country also has reached it. He will be driven, therefore, to make\nhis country behave and act up to this ideal. And his country cannot\nso act till the general society of nations conducts itself on the same\ngeneral lines. His country, therefore, will be driven to make the\ngeneral society of nations behave in accordance with the principles\nof high fellowship.\n\n* * *\n\nWe have made for ourselves the ideal of a man. It remains to show\nthat the finest pitch of all is only reached in the union of man and\nwoman. The man is not complete without the woman, nor the\nwoman without the man. It is in their union, therefore, that the ideal\nin its greatest perfection will be seen. The flower which results from\nthe working of the ideal in the Heart of Nature, as the flower of the\nrose results from the working of the rose-ideal in the heart of the\nrose-seed, we see in the love of man and woman at the supreme\nmoment of their union. This is the very holiest thing in Nature. It is\nthen that both the man and the woman are to the fullest extent\nthemselves, both to be and to express all that is in them to be. They\nlove then to their extreme capacity to love. They are gentle then to\nthe utmost limit of tenderness. And they are strong then to the\nfarthest stretch of their strength.\n\nAnd while they thus reach the very acme of Nature's ideal so far as\nwe men can discern it, they, at the same time and in so doing, touch\nthe very foundations of Nature as well. Mathematicians have\ndiscovered that there is no such thing as a perfectly straight line, and\nthat curvature is a fundamental property of the physical world. So\nalso is it in the spiritual world. As we reach the topmost height of\nthe ideal we find that it has curved round, and that we are at that\nmoment at the very base and foundation. What is attracting us\nforward in the farthest distance in front is the very thing that is\nurging us forward from behind. Pinnacle and foundation, source and\nend, meet.\n\nThe love which attracted the man and woman together and which\nthey keep striving to attain in higher and higher degree, is the same\nas the creative impulse which comes surging up from the very Heart\nof Nature. Direct and without ever a break it has come out of the\nremotest past and deepest deeps. Few seem aware of this, and yet it\nis an obvious fact--and a fact which vastly increases our sense of\nintimacy with Nature. It was due to the same impulse which has\nbrought the man and woman together that they themselves were\nbrought into being. Their parents had been attracted by the same\nvision of love and impelled by the same impulse. Their parents'\nparents had been similarly attracted and impelled, and so on back\nand back through the whole long line of ancestry, through half a\nmillion years to primitive men, back beyond them again through the\nlong animal ancestry for scores of millions of years to the beginning\nof life. Even then there is no break. Direct from the very Fountain\nSource of Things this creative impulse has come bursting up into\ntheir hearts. At the moment of union they are straight along the\ndirect line of the whole world-development, so far as this planet is\nconcerned. The elemental in the natural impulse is the most\nultimately elemental, for it derives itself straight from the pure\nOrigin of Things. As they reach after the most Divine they are\nimpelled by the most elemental. What, in fact, happens is that the\nelemental is inspired through and through with the Divine.\n\nThe union of man and woman is the flower of Nature. But, like the\nrose, it bears within it the seed from which some still more beautiful\nflower may result. No pair, however sublime their union, suppose\nthat it is the best that could by any possibility at any time exist. An\nabsolutely perfect union depends upon an absolutely perfect pair in\nabsolutely perfect surroundings. And no one supposes that he\nhimself is perfect or that the world around him is perfect. So there is\nin the pair a consciousness of imperfection, a vision of perfection,\nand a desperate yearning to be more perfect and to make the world\nmore perfect. Deep and strong as the creative impulse itself is the\nimpulse to improvement. It is due to this impulse that the mother\nreaches over her child with such loving care, strives to shield it from\nall harm, social as well as physical, and to give it a better chance\nthan she herself enjoyed. It is due to this same impulse that the man\nworks to leave his profession, his business, his science, his art, his\ncountry, better than he found it. It is due to this impulse also that\nmen as a whole are driven to improve the whole Earth, to improve\nplants, flowers, trees, animals, men, and make the world a better\nplace for their successors than it has ever been for them.\n\nThe pair--even the most splendid pair that has ever wedded\n--have deep within them this perhaps unrecognised impulse to\nimprovement. They know that the rose can only bring forth roses,\nand that they can only bring forth men: they know that they cannot\nbring forth angels. But they know also that the rose, when wisely\nmated and its offspring provided with favourable surroundings of\nsoil and air and sunshine, can give rise to blooms incomparably\nmore perfect than itself. And they know that they themselves, if they\nhave wisely mated, if they carefully tend their offspring and provide\nthem with healthy, sunny, physical and social surroundings, can give\nrise, in generations to come, to unions of men and women\nincomparably more perfect than their own--as much more perfect as\ntheir union is than the unions of primitive men--richer in colour,\nmore graceful in form, sweeter in fragrance, and of an altogether\nfiner texture.\n\n* * *\n\nThis, then, is the ideal in its completeness which we set up before us.\nBut we have no sooner set it up than we find that the presence of this\nideal within us makes us restless, unsatisfied, discontented, till we\nhave set to work to bring things up to it; and that when we do start\nimproving them we are forthwith involved in endless strife.\nImprovement means effort. It does not come by itself. It is only\neffected by strong, persistent, determined effort. It was no easy\nmatter for the particles in the rose-seed to battle their way through\nthe hard seed-case, strike down into the soil, send up shoots into the\nair, stand steadfastly to their ideal of the rose, and produce a seed\ncapable of bringing forth a still more perfect flower. And it is no\neasy matter for us to burst through our own shells, strike our roots\nfar down into the soil of common humanity and common animality,\nand there firmly rooted strike up skyward, stand faithfully to our\nideal, and produce something which will have capacity for still\nfurther improvement. Immense and sustained effort is required of us\nfor this to be accomplished.\n\nEach man finds he has to battle with himself to make way for all the\nbest in himself to come to the front. Each has to battle with the\ncircumstances in which he is placed in order to find scope for the\nexercise of the best in himself. Each has to break his way through, as\nthat wonder of Nature, poor primitive man, had to battle his way\nthrough the impediments of the tropical forests and the brute beasts\nby which he was surrounded. And just as primitive man was not the\nanimal provided with the thickest hide like the rhinoceros, nor with\nsharpest claws like the lion, nor with the fiercest temper like the\ntiger, but was of all his fellows the one with the most sensitive\nnature, so are those nearest the ideal the most delicately sensitive of\nmankind.\n\nThe ideal is never approached, much less attained, except by men\nand women of the most highly-strung natures--natures peculiarly\nsusceptible to pain. And with this extra susceptibility to pain they\nhave to expose to the risk of wounds and bruises the most sensitive\nparts of their natures. Suffering is therefore inevitably their lot. It is\nthe invariable attendant of progress however beneficent.\nExcruciating pain each expects to have to endure--as every\nexpectant mother and every soldier anticipates on the physical plane.\n\nWe find, too, that in working out our ideal we are not only required\nto endure pain, but to submit to the sternest discipline. First, we need\nself-discipline. Each individual finds that he is required to exercise\nhis faculties to the full, make the utmost of himself, attain to the\nhighest of which he is capable, and be ready for any sacrifice. So he\nmust train his faculties to the highest. He is required also to work in\nconcert with his fellows. The stern obligation is therefore upon him\nto forgo his own private advantage in order that the common end\nmay be achieved. This obligation he has readily to acknowledge and\nsubmit to. He has also to acknowledge what he owes to Nature, what\nis his _duty_ to Nature. And that duty he has to perform and her\nauthority he has to admit. He can retain his freedom and initiative\nand enterprise. But he has to obey the laws of Nature, acknowledge\nher authority, submit to her discipline. No soldiers were more full of\nindependence and initiative than the Australians, but no troops at the\nend of the War realised better than they did that success can only be\nachieved through strictest discipline as well as freedom and\ninitiative. The lover also knows that only through the sternest\ndiscipline and constraint upon himself is his object attained. Thus\nthere is an imperative necessity upon a man to be orderly in his\nbehaviour, loyal, faithful, dutiful, and obedient to the ideal within\nhim. Any failure in loyalty and obedience is a sin against Nature and\na sin against himself. The call of honour and of humanity is upon\nhim, and that call he has to obey without hesitation.\n\nEqually are men expected to be ready to _exercise_ authority, to\nmaintain discipline and preserve order. The exercise of authority is\nno less an obligation and duty upon men than obedience to it. And\nthe one has to be practised just as much as the other. Or, rather, the\nexercise of authority has to be practised more, for it is more difficult\nand more valuable. And the proper exercise of authority,\nmaintenance of discipline, and preservation of order, is a duty men\nowe ultimately to Nature herself. For it is from Nature that they\nfinally derive their authority and to Nature that they are ultimately\nresponsible.\n\nWhether as captain of the eleven or as head of the house at school,\nas manager of an office or a business, as policeman or foreman, as\ncorporal or Commander-in-Chief, as administrator or Prime\nMinister, whether as nurse, parent, or schoolmistress, a man or\nwoman is in his position of authority directly or indirectly on the\nappointment or choice of those over whom he has to exercise\nauthority. He is there to exercise authority for their benefit. They\nhave placed him--as the public place the policeman--in authority for\nthat purpose. And they have a right to expect that he will exercise\nhis authority with decision, maintain discipline with firmness, and\npreserve order with even-handed justice. For only then can they\nthemselves know where they are, get on with their own duties and\naffairs, and fulfil the law of their being. Ultimately those in authority\nare chosen by, and are responsible to, those over whom they\nexercise authority. And those who choose them expect and require\nthem to exercise authority authoritatively.\n\nEach in his own particular sphere, in that particular place and for the\ntime being, has to exercise his authority with strictness. Otherwise\nthe rest cannot fulfil their own duties. The policeman has to exercise\nhis authority even over a Prince, as otherwise there might be chaos\nin the streets and no one would be able to get about his business\nwith surety. The whole people have chosen each for his particular\nposition of authority, and for their benefit expect him to exercise it\nstrictly.\n\nThe people, again, spring from Nature as a whole. They are the\nrepresentatives of Nature. Those in authority are therefore, in their\nparticular province, for that particular purpose, and for the time\nbeing the representatives of Nature. They are accountable to Nature,\nand Nature expects them as her representatives to exercise authority\nwith wisdom and discretion, but on the same basic principles of\nabsolute fairness and perfect orderliness that she herself in her\nelemental aspects exercises her authority.\n\nBesides obeying authority and exercising authority, men have also\nto practise _leadership._ Merely to give and obey orders is nothing\nlike sufficient. In most things a man follows some leader, but in\neach man there is one thing--his own particular line--in which he can\n_lead._ In that line he is expected to qualify himself for leadership,\nand be prepared to take the risks of high adventure. For it is only\nthrough leadership, through someone venturing out beyond the ruck\nand getting his fellows to follow him, that any progress is made.\nMere obedience to authority and exercise of authority never initiate\nany new departure. These only provide the conditions for progress.\nIn addition to these the divine gift of leadership is required.\nLeadership is therefore the supremely important quality which men\nrequire.\n\nBut men cannot intelligently act in concert and alertly; cannot\nwillingly submit themselves to a rigid discipline; cannot exercise\nauthority with confidence and weight; and cannot lead so that others\nmay follow, unless all are animated by the same idea. And they are\nnot likely to sacrifice their lives for that idea unless they are\nconvinced of its value. Only for the most precious things in life do\nmen willingly give up their lives. And before they submit to\nunquestioning discipline and sacrifice themselves for an ideal they\nneed a clear understanding of that ideal and a just appreciation of its\nvalue. So they think out the ideal with greater precision and make\nsure that what they are aiming at is nothing short of the highest.\nNow the ideal of fellowship enriched with beauty and elevated to the\nDivine is one which all can understand and of which all can see the\nvalue. Because it is the highest it is satisfying to the deepest needs\nand cravings of their nature, and is therefore of a value beyond all\nreckoning. Assured of that, they summon up all the courage and\nfortitude that is theirs, all their spirit and mettle, to endure\nunflinchingly the pain that must be theirs. And in spite of the effort,\nthe long, strict training, the rigid discipline, the hardship and\nsuffering they have to undergo, they joyfully play their part because\nthey are assured in their hearts that what they are living for and\nwould readily die for is supremely worth while. Deep in their hearts\nis that divine joy of battle that fighters for the highest always feel.\nAnd they fight with power and conviction because they know that\ntheir ideal has come into their hearts straight from Nature herself,\nand experience has shown that what Nature has in mind she does in\nthe end achieve: she not only has the will and intention but the\n_power_ to carry into effect what she determines.\n\n* * *\n\nThis is how we formulate the ideal to ourselves in ever-developing\ncompleteness; and this is how with pain and effort but with\nover-compensating joy we carry it into effect. And these experiences of\nours in the formulation and working out of our ideal give us the clue\nto the manner in which Nature on her part works out _her_ ideal.\nWe are the representations and representatives of the whole, and we\nmay assume that the whole works in much the same way as we\nourselves work. If this be so we may expect to find that Nature will\nwork as an _artist_ works, that is, out of his own inner\nconsciousness, spontaneously generating and continually creating\nnew and original forms approaching (through a process of trial and\nerror experimentation) more and more closely to that ideal of\nperfection which he has always, though often unconsciously, before\nhim. And this is how we actually do find Nature working. We find\nher reaching after perfection of form, now in one direction, now in\nanother; first in plants, next in animals, then in insects, then in birds,\nthen in apes, then in men, here in one type and there in another,\nnever reaching complete perfection anywhere, any more than the\ngreatest artist ever does in any particular, but still reaching\nperfection in a higher and higher degree, and making the state of the\nwhole of a richer and intenser perfection.\n\nWe have, therefore, ample evidence that Nature is actuated by an\nintention to enrich perfection and is continually working towards it.\nSo we have confidence that Nature, hard and exacting though she be,\nis _only_ exacting in order that the Highest may be attained. We\nknow that Nature is aiming at the Highest and nothing short of the\nHighest. And all the spirit of daring and adventure in us leaps to the\ncall she makes.\n\nAnd we respond to the call with all the greater alacrity because we\nfeel that the attainment of that Highest is dependent to a large degree\nupon ourselves. We have a sense of real responsibility in the matter.\nAnd for this reason--that though Nature lays down the great\nconstitutional laws within which man, her completest representative,\nmust work; and though Nature as a whole formulates the main\noutlines of her ideal; yet man _within that constitution_ can make\nhis own laws, and within its main outlines may refine and perfect the\nideal.\n\nNature may be working out her ideal on other stars through the\nagency of other kinds of beings more perfect than ourselves; and\nwhile the ideal in its main outlines may be the same there as the\nideal which is working itself out on this planet, it may there have\nassumed a higher form and be more nearly attained. But on this\nplanet the more definite formulation of the ideal and the measures\nfor its attainment are in the hands of men. We can perfect the ideal\nfor ourselves, and make laws and establish customs to ensure its\nattainment. We are not the slaves of a despotic ruler, or pawns in the\nhand of an external player. Within the limits of Nature's constitution,\nthe laws we obey are laws of our own making; the authority we obey\nis the authority which we ourselves have set up; and both\nauthority and laws we can change in accordance with the growing\nrequirements of the ideal which we ourselves are perfecting.\n\nWe go forward, therefore, with inextinguishable faith in the value of\nwhat we are battling for, and in the worthwhileness of all our efforts\nand endurances. And though the ideal, with which Nature has\ninspired us makes us restless and discontented, provokes us to\nincreasing effort, causes us endless pain and suffering, and exacts\nfrom us the sacrifice even of our lives, we nevertheless love to have\nthe ideal, and love Nature for implanting it in us.\n\n* * *\n\nAnd now that we have seen what is the nature of Nature, what is the\nend she has before her, and how she works to accomplish her end,\nwe feel that we have gone a long way towards knowing and\nunderstanding her. We have had a vision of the hidden Divinity by\nwhich she is inspired. And this mysterious Power we have not found\nreigning remote in the empty spaces of the heavens. We have found\nit dwelling in every minutest particle of which this Earth and all the\nworld is built, and of which we ourselves also are made--dwelling in\nthe earth, and in the air, and in the stars; and in every living thing, in\nbeast and bird and insect, in flower, plant, and man--and dwelling in\nthem all in their togetherness. We have found it to be both immanent\nand transcendent. It only exists--and can only exist--in these its\nsingle self-active representations. But in relation to each of them it is\ntranscendent. Each star and flower, each beast and man, is its partial\nrepresentation. But the whole together is that Power which while it\ntranscends is yet resident in, and inspires, each single part which\ngoes to its making. In the inmost heart of Nature, as the ground and\nsource of Nature, yet permeating Nature to the uttermost confines,\nand reigning supreme over the whole, we find God; actuating the\nheart of God we find an ideal; and actuating the heart of the ideal we\nfind an imperative urge towards perfection, an inborn necessity to\nperfect itself for ever--just as inside the rough exterior of Abraham\nLincoln was the real Abraham Lincoln, at his heart was an ideal, and\nat the heart of the ideal an inner impulse towards perfection; or as\nwithin the exterior France is the real France, in the heart of France\nan ideal, and in the heart of the ideal the determination to perfect\nitself.\n\nThis view of Nature is very different from that view of her which\nwould regard the world as having been originally created by, and\nnow being governed by, an always and already perfect Being, living\nas apart from it as the Sun is from the Earth, and being as distinct\nand separate from it as a father is from his son. And the difference in\nview must make a profound difference in our attitude to Nature, and\ntherefore in our capacity for seeing and enjoying Natural Beauty.\nWe may admire and worship but we can scarcely love, in any true\nsense of the word, a Being dwelling distant and aloof from us, and\nwith whom, from the mere fact of his being perfect, it is most\ndifficult for us to be on terms of homely intimacy and affection. But\nfor a Being who, like our country, is one of whom we ourselves\nform part, we can have not only admiration and reverence but deep\naffection. We can and do love our country, for we form part of her,\nand have a voice and share in making and shaping her. We know\nthat she cares for us, will look after us in misfortune, and will\nhonour and love us if we serve her well and show her loyalty and\ndevotion. And we can and do love Nature for precisely the same\nreasons. We feel ourselves part of her, and in intimate touch with\nher all round and always. And we have that which is so satisfying to\nus--the feeling that there is _reciprocity_ of love between us and her.\nSo our love is active, and it vehemently impels us to get to know her\nbetter and better, to get ourselves in ever closer touch with her, to\ndiscover the utmost fulness of her Beauty, and to communicate to\nothers all that we have come to know and all the Beauty we have\nseen, so that others may share in our enjoyment and come to love\nNature more even than we love her ourselves--love Nature in all her\naspects, love physical Nature in the mountains, seas and deserts, the\nclouds, sunsets and stars, love plant Nature and animal Nature and\nhuman Nature; and, above all, love Divine Nature as best revealed in\nsupreme men in their supreme moments.\n\nIn some of her aspects Nature may be stern and exacting. But she is\nnever sheerly hard. She is compounded of mercy and compassion as\nwell as of rigid orderliness. And her essential character is Love--and\nLove of no impassive and insipid kind, but of a power and activity\nbeyond all human conception.\n\nThe importance and significance of this conclusion, if we accept it,\nis that we definitely abandon the repellent conception of Nature as\ngoverned by chance, or as cold and mechanical, or as guided solely\nby the principle of the survival of the fittest, and we accept instead\nthe humaner and diviner view that Nature is actuated by Love; and,\naccepting that more winning conception, we can enter unreservedly\ninto the Spirit of Nature and see her Beauty. Unless we had been\nassured in our minds, without any possibility of doubt whatever, that\nwe could _love_ Nature, we could never really have enjoyed her\n_Beauty._\n\n* * *\n\nSo Nature is not something static, fixed, and immovable, determined\nonce and for all like a rock is, at least to outward appearance. Nature\nis a Person, and a Person is a process. Nature flows. Nature is\nalways moving on. As our thoughts are all connected with one\nanother and passing into one another; as all events are connected\nwith one another and are continually passing from one into another,\nand form one great all-inclusive event which is in continual process\nof happening; so is Nature always in process of passing from one\nstate into another state, while the whole forms one great event for\never happening. And actuating the whole process, determining the\nwhole great event, is an inner core of Activity which endures\nthrough all the changes. It is the \"I\" of Nature, which informs,\ndirects, controls the whole from centre to utmost extremity through\nall space and all time. It is the Soul and Spirit, the Genius of Nature.\nIt is what we should mean when we speak of God.\n\nActuated by this spirit, whose essential character is Love, the\nprocess glides smoothly, unbrokenly, and wellnigh imperceptibly\nforward. As we lift our eyes and look out upon Nature in its present\nactually existing state, what we see in that instant is the whole\nachievement of the past, and it contains within it here and now the\npromise of all the future. All the past is in the present, and in it also\nis the potency of the future. The achievement fills us with\nadmiration. The promise thrills us with hope. To that Spirit which\nhas achieved this result, which actuates the process and ourselves\nwith it, which determines the great event, which ensures the\nuniformity and law and order which are the foundations of our\nfreedom, and the essential condition of all progress, our hearts are\ndrawn out and yearningly stretch themselves out in a love boundless\nas the process itself.\n\nThe more we find ourselves drawn to Nature and in harmony and\nlove with her, the more Beauty do we see. In closest reciprocity\nLove of Nature inspires Natural Beauty and Natural Beauty\npromotes Love of Nature. And it is from the Heart of Nature that\nboth Love and Beauty spring. Both also remain permanent and\neverlasting through all the changing processes of Nature--permanent\nbut ever increasing in depth and height and volume. The promise of\nall the Love and Beauty of to-day was hidden in the womb of the\npast. In the womb of to-day is contained the promise of a Love and\nBeauty still more glorious. And ours it is to bring them into being.\n\n\n\nPART II\n\nNATURAL BEAUTY AND GEOGRAPHY\n\n\n\nPRESIDENTIAL ADDRESS TO THE ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY, DELIVERED\nAT THE ANNIVERSARY MEETING, MAY 31, 1920\n\nNATURAL BEAUTY AND GEOGRAPHICAL SCIENCE\n\nI have something to say which to old-fashioned geographers may\nappear very revolutionary, and which you may hesitate to accept\nstraight away. But it has come to me as the result of much and\nvaried geographical work in the field; of listening to many lectures\nbefore this Society; and of composing this Address and five lectures\nfor you, firstly, as far back as 1888, on my journey across Central\nAsia from Peking to India; secondly, on my journey to Hunza and\nthe Pamirs; thirdly, on Chitral; fourthly, on my mission to Tibet; and\nfifthly, on the Himalaya. And I expect when you come to think over\nwhat I have now to say you will find that, after all, my conclusions\nare not anything desperately revolutionary but something quite\nobvious and natural.\n\nWhat I want to lay before you for your very earnest consideration is\nthis--that we should take a profounder and broader view of\nGeography, of its fundamental conception, and of its scope and aim,\nthan we have hitherto taken; and should regard the Earth as\n_Mother_-Earth, and the _Beauty_ of her features as within the\npurview of Geography.\n\nI will state my case as clearly and briefly as I can. Geography is a\nscience. Science is learning, knowing, understanding. The object of\ngeographical learning, knowing, understanding is the Earth. We\nmust first, then, have a true conception of what the Earth really is.\nAnd next we must be certain in our minds as to what is most worth\nknowing about it.\n\nTo begin with our conception of the Earth. At the dawn of\nGeography it was believed to be a flat disc. Later it was discovered\nto be a sphere. Then it was found to be not a hard solid sphere like a\nbilliard-ball, but to be hard only on the surface, and within to be\nquick with fervent heat. Now it is coming to be regarded as spirit as\nwell as body--as in its essential nature spiritual rather than material.\n\nWhen we get as far back as science is able to take us we find that the\nultimate particles of which the Earth is made up are not minute\nspecks of some substance or material, but are simply centres of\nradiant energy. Even with a microscope of infinite power we should\nnever be able to see one, like we see a grain of pollen or a grain of\nsand. And if we had fingers of infinite delicacy, we should never be\nable to take one up between the forefinger and thumb and feel it.\nThese ultimate particles are invisible and intangible. Nothing could\nbe less substantial. And we find further that, inconceivably minute\nas they are, they _act of themselves_ under the mutual influence of\none another. The electrons are not like shot which have been heaped\ntogether by some outside agency, and which roll about the floor if\nsomeone outside gives them a push, but which will otherwise remain\nimmobile. They congregate together of their own inner prompting.\nThey are like a swarm of midges or bees in which each individual\nacts on its own impulsion, and, in the case of bees, all together form\nthemselves into a definite organisation with a collective spirit of its\nown. The Earth is indeed influenced by its parent the Sun, and acts\nin accordance with the same laws and is swayed by the same\nimpulses as govern the whole Universe, of which it is a minute\nthough highly important mite. But the point is that the Earth is not\nsomething like a lump of clay which a potter takes in his hands and\nmoulds into a ball. The Earth moulds itself from activities that it\ncontains within itself.\n\nRunning through the whole mighty swarm of electrons we call the\nEarth is a tendency to order, organisation, and system. The myriad\nmillions of ultimate particles in their all-togetherness and from their\ninteraction upon one another become possessed of an imperative\nurge towards excellence. The electrons group themselves into atoms;\nthe atoms clump themselves together into molecules; the molecules\ncombine into chemical compounds, and these into organisms of\never-increasing size and complexity. So in the process of the ages\nthere came into being, from out of the very Earth itself, first, lowly\nforms of plants and animals, then higher and higher forms exhibiting\nhigher and higher qualities, till the flowers of the field, the animals,\nand man himself came into existence.\n\nAnd now we reach the point I wish to make. If this account of the\nEarth which physicists and biologists give us be true, then we\ngeographers should take a less material and a more spiritual view of\nthe Earth than we have done, and should, like primitive people all\nthe world over, regard her as Mother-Earth, and recognise our\nintimate connection with her. Primitive peoples everywhere regard\nthe Earth as alive and as their Mother. And so intensely do they feel\nthis liveness that many will not run the plough through the soil from\ndislike of lacerating the bosom of Mother-Earth. They see plants and\ntrees spring up out of her, and these plants and trees providing them\nwith fruits and seeds, leaves and roots, upon which to live. And they\nquite naturally look upon her as their Mother. And we men of the\nmore advanced races have still more cause to consider her as our\nMother, for we now know that not only the plants and trees but we\nourselves sprang from her--as indeed we are nourished by her daily,\neating her plants or the animals which feed on her plants. And as we\njudge of a lily, not by its origin, the ugly bulb, but by the climax, the\nexquisite flower; so we should not judge of the Earth by its origin,\nthe fiery mist, but by its issue--ardent human fellowship. And if we\nthus judge her we shall find her a mother worthy of our affection.\n\nSo the first point I have to put before you is that we geographers\nshould regard the object of our science not as a magnified\nbilliard-ball, but as a living being--as Mother-Earth. Not as hard,\nunimpressionable, dull, and inert, but as live, supple, sensitive, and\nactive--active with an intensity of activity past all conceivability.\nYet with no chaotic activity, but with activity having coherence and\ndirection, and that direction towards excellence.\n\n* * *\n\nNow as to what we ought to know about the Earth. While Geology\nconcerns itself with its anatomy, Geography, by long convention,\nrestricts its concern to the Earth's outward aspect. Accordingly, it is\nin the face and features of Mother-Earth that we geographers are\nmainly interested. We must know something of the general\nprinciples of geology, as painters have to know something of the\nanatomy of the human or animal body. But our special business as\ngeographers is with the outward expression. And my second point is\nthat the characteristic of the face and features of the Earth most\nworth learning about, knowing, and understanding is their Beauty;\nand that knowledge of their Beauty may be legitimately included\nwithin the scope of geographical science.\n\nIt may be argued, indeed, that science is concerned with quantity\n--with what can be measured--and that Natural Beauty is quality\nwhich is something that eludes measurement. But geographical\nscience, at least, should refuse to be confined within any such\narbitrary limits and should take cognisance of quality as well as\nquantity. This is my contention. I am not maintaining that the actual\nenjoyment of the Natural Beauty of the Earth should be regarded as\nwithin the scope of geographical science, though this Society as a\nsocial body might well participate in such enjoyment. Enjoyment is\nfeeling, whereas science is knowing; and feeling and knowing are\ndistinct faculties. We can easily see the distinction. We may be\ntravelling to Plymouth to embark for South Africa on some\nabsorbing enterprise, and be so engrossed with thoughts of the\nadventure before us as to be unable to enjoy the famed West\nCountry through which the train is passing, though all the time we\nwere quite aware in our minds of its beauty. We are not actually\nenjoying the beauty, though we know quite well that it is there. On\nanother occasion we may be returning after long absence in\ncountries of far different character; our minds may be free from any\ndisturbing thoughts; and we may be in a mood to enjoy to the full\nevery beauty we see. England will then seem to us a veritable garden,\nthe greenness of everything, the trimness of the hedges, the sheets of\npurple hyacinths, and some still remaining primroses, will startle us\nwith joy, though we have long been aware of their beauty. This time\nwe both know and enjoy the Natural Beauty. We see from this\ninstance the distinction between knowing Natural Beauty and\nenjoying it. I am not claiming more than that _knowing_ Natural\nBeauty--being aware of it--is part of Geography. But I _am_\nclaiming liberty to extend our knowing up to the extreme limit when\nit merges into feeling.\n\nWhat we have now to consider is the value of this Natural Beauty. A\nregion may be flat or mountainous, dry or wet, barren or fertile,\nuseful or useless for either political or commercial purposes. But it\nis not its flatness or ruggedness, or its utility or inutility for\npolitical or commercial purposes, that we may find in the end is the most\nnoteworthy characteristic, but its beauty--its own particular beauty.\nThe conventional gold or oil prospector, or railway engineer, or\nseeker for sites for rubber or coffee plantation, or pasture-lands for\nsheep and cattle, may not bother his head about the beauty of the\nforests, the rivers, the prairies, and the mountains he is exploring. He\nis much too absorbed in the practical business of life to be distracted\nby anything so fanciful--as he thinks. Yet even he does see the\nbeauty, and long afterwards he finds it is that which has stuck most\nfirmly in his mind. And when he has unthinkingly destroyed it,\nfuture generations lament his action and take measures to preserve\nwhat remains. Advertisements, also, show us daily that nearly all\ncountries--and it seems more especially new countries like Canada\nand New Zealand--regard Natural Beauty as one of their most\nvaluable assets. And the reason why the Natural Beauty of the Earth\nis deemed so valuable a characteristic of its features is not hard to\nunderstand when we come to reflect. It is because Beauty is a\nquality which appeals to the universal in man--appeals to all men for\nall time, and appeals to them in an increasing degree. It is something\nwhich all men can admire and enjoy. And the more they enjoy it the\nmore they want to get others to share in their enjoyment. Also the\nmore Natural Beauty they see, the more, apparently, there is to see.\nPoets in their poems, and painters in their pictures, are continually\npointing out to us less keen-sighted individuals new beauties in the\nfeatures of the Earth. The mineral wealth of the Earth has its limits;\neven the productivity, though perennially renewed, is not unbounded.\nBut the Natural Beauty is inexhaustible. And it is not only\ninexhaustible: it positively increases and multiplies the more we see\nof it and the more of us see it. So it has good claim to be considered\nthe most valuable characteristic of the Earth.\n\nAnd if Beauty should prove to be its most valuable characteristic, it\nfollows that knowledge of it is the knowledge about the Earth which\nis most worth having. It will certainly be the case that knowledge of\nother characteristics may be of more value to particular men for a\nspecial purpose for the time being. If an engineer has to build a\nrailway, knowledge of the exact height above sea-level of various\npoints and of the general configuration of the ground is of more\nvalue than knowledge of its beauty. But for the engineer himself,\nwhen he is not thinking of his railway, and for mankind in general,\nknowledge of the beauty may be the more valuable kind of\nknowledge.\n\nFor years I was employed in exploring the region where three\nEmpires meet, where the Himalaya, the Hindu Kush, and mountains\nwhich form the Roof of the World converge. I had to report on the\nextent to which it afforded a barrier against the advance of Russia\ntowards India, and wherein it would lie the most appropriate\nboundary between India and Russia, between India and China, and\nbetween Russia and China. What I learned of that region as a barrier\nagainst invasion was of more value to the Viceroy and Commander-in-Chief\nin India and the political and military authorities in England\nin the discharge of their official duties than what I learned of its\nbeauties. But this utility of the region as a military barrier is not the\ncharacteristic which has most value to men in general. What to them\nhas most value is its beauty--the awful beauty of its terrific gorges\nand stupendous heights. And it is knowledge of this beauty which is\nmost worth having, and which has most geographical value.\n\nBesides exploring the far region beyond Kashmir I was also\nemployed for years in exercising a general supervision over the\nentire administration of Kashmir itself. Reports from experts used to\ncome to me containing every description of geographical knowledge.\nSurveyors would send in maps for general purposes, for the\nconstruction of roads and railways, for the delimitation of village\nboundaries, and for registering the ownership of individual fields.\nGeologists would report on the crustal relief (as the features of\nMother-Earth are inelegantly termed). Forestry, agricultural, and\nbotanical experts would report on the productivity of the soil, on the\nplants and trees which are or might be grown, and on their present\nand possible distribution. Mineralogists would report on the\nminerals, their distribution and the possibility of commercially\nexploiting them. Every aspect of geographical science was presented\nto me. And each particular kind of knowledge for its own particular\npurpose was highly valuable. But the point I would wish to make is\nthat my geographical knowledge of Kashmir would have been\nincomplete--and I would have been wanting in knowledge of its\nmost valuable characteristic--if I had had no knowledge of its beauty.\nI might have had the most precise knowledge about the form and\nstructure of the crustal relief of this portion of the Earth, of the\nproductivity of the soil, of the distribution of its population, and of\nanimals and plants, and about the effect of the crustal forms on the\nanimals and plants, and of the animals and plants upon the crustal\nforms and of all upon man, and of man upon them all; but if I had\nhad no knowledge of the beauty of these crustal forms and of the\ninfluence which their beauty has upon man, I should not have\nknown what was most worth knowing about Kashmir. My geographical\nknowledge of that country would have been wanting in its most\nimportant particular.\n\nThese illustrations will, I hope, make clear what I mean when I urge\nthat Beauty may be the most valuable characteristic of the Earth's\nfeatures, and that the scope of Geography should certainly be\nextended to include a knowledge of it.\n\nAnd there should be less hesitation in accepting the latter half of this\nconclusion when we note that Natural Beauty affects the movements\nof man, and that man is having an increasing effect upon Natural\nBeauty--spoiling it in too many cases, improving it in many others,\nbut certainly having an effect upon it. There is thus a quite definite\nrelation between man and Natural Beauty, and it should therefore be\nwithin the scope of Geography to take note of this relationship. To\nan increasing degree man now moves about in search of new Natural\nBeauty or to enjoy it where it has been already found. From all over\nthe world men flock to Switzerland, drawn there by its beauty. Here\nat home they go to the Thames Valley, or Dartmoor, or the coast of\nCornwall, or North Wales, or the Highlands, simply to enjoy the\nNatural Beauty. And railway companies and the Governments of\nCanada, Australia, and New Zealand think it worth while to spend\nlarge sums of money in publishing pictures of the beauty of the\ncountries in which they are interested in order to attract\nholiday-makers or home-seekers to them.\n\nAnd here, as in other cases, man now is not content to be an\nimpassive spectator and to be entirely controlled by his surroundings.\nHe does not allow the \"crustal relief\" to have the upper hand in the\nmatter. He will not admit that all he has to do is to adapt himself to\nhis surroundings. That servile view of our position in the Universe is\nfast departing. We are determined to have the ascendancy. And\nmuch as we admire the Beauty of the Earth we set about improving\nit. We fail disastrously at times, I allow. But sometimes\nunconsciously, and sometimes deliberately, we succeed. We have in\nplaces made the Earth more beautiful than it was before we came,\nand we have certainly shown the possibility of this being done.\nFrom what I have seen in uninhabited countries I can realise what\nthe river-valleys of England must have been like before the arrival\nof man--beautiful, certainly; but not _so_ beautiful as now. They\nmust have been an unrelieved mass of forest and marsh. Now the\nmarshes are drained and turned into golden meadows. The woods\nare cleared in part and well-kept parks take their place, with trees\nspecially selected, pruned, and trim, and made to stand out well by\nthemselves so that their umbrageous forms may be properly seen.\nGardens are laid out, the famous lawns of England are created, and\nflowering and variegated shrubs from many lands are planted round\nthem. And homes are built--the simple homes of the poor and the\nstately homes of the rich--which in the setting of trees and lawns and\ngardens add unquestionably to the natural beauty of the land. St.\nJames's Park, with its lake, its well-tended trees, its\ndaisy-covered lawns, its flowerbeds, its may and lilac, laburnum and\nhorse-chestnut, and with the towers of Westminster Abbey and the Houses\nof Parliament rising behind it, is certainly more beautiful than the\nsame piece of land was two thousand years ago in its natural\ncondition.\n\nWhat has been done in this respect in England is only typical of\nwhat is done in every country and of what has been done for ages\npast. The Moghul emperors, by the planting of gardens on the\nborders of the Dal Lake in Kashmir, added greatly to its beauty. And\nthe Japanese are famous for the choice of beautiful surroundings for\ntheir temples and for the addition which they themselves, by the\nerection of graceful temples and by properly cared-for trees and\ngardens, make to the natural beauty of the place.\n\nSo man is both affected by the Beauty of the Earth's features and\nhimself affects that Beauty. And this relationship between man and\nthe Natural Beauty of the Earth is one of which Geography should\ntake as much cognisance as it does of the relationship between man\nand the productivity of the Earth.\n\nBut Natural Beauty is manifested in an innumerable variety of forms.\nThe whole Beauty is never manifested in any one particular feature\nor region, but each has its unique aspect. Each feature has its own\npeculiar beauty different from the beauty of any other feature. And\nwhat men naturally do, and what I would suggest geographers\nshould deliberately do, is to compare the beauty of one region with\nthe beauty of another, so that we may realise the beauty of each with\na greater intensity and clearness. We can compare the beauty of\nKashmir with the beauty of Switzerland and California. And the\ncomparison will enable us to see more clearly and to appreciate the\ndistinctive elements which make up the peculiar beauty of each of\nthose countries. It has been frequently noticed that people who have\nalways lived in the same place are unable to see its full beauty. The\ninhabitants of the Gilgit frontier, when I first went among them, had\nnever left their mountains, and were altogether ignorant of the\nspecial grandeur of their beauty. They thought all the world was just\nthe same. But men who have seen many varieties of Natural Beauty\nand have taken pains to compare the varieties with one another\nbecome trained to see more Beauty in each feature. Fresh\ndiscoveries of Beauty are thus made, and our knowledge of the\nBeauty of the Earth is thereby increased.\n\n* * *\n\nWhat I hope, then, is that this Society should definitely recognise\nthat learning to see the Beauty in natural features and comparing the\npeculiar beauties of the different features with one another is within\nthe scope of Geography, and will indeed become its chief function. I\nshould like to see the tradition established and well known and\nrecognised that we encourage the search for Natural Beauty, and\nlook upon the discovery of a new region which possesses special\nbeauty, and the discovery of a new beauty in a region already well\nknown, as among the most important geographical discoveries to be\nmade. In this matter I trust our Society will take the lead.\nEnglishmen are born lovers of Natural Beauty and born travellers.\nThe search for Natural Beauty ought, therefore, to be a congenial\ntask for this Society. As I have tried to make clear, we cannot really\nknow and understand the Earth--which is the aim of Geography\n--until we have seen its beauties and compared the varying beauties of\nthe different features with one another and seen how they affect man\nand man affects them. We are constituted as a Society for the\npurpose of diffusing geographical knowledge, and I trust that in\nfuture we shall regard knowledge of the Beauty of the Earth as the\nmost important form of geographical knowledge that we can diffuse.\n\nWhen I was Writing out the lecture which I was invited to give\nbefore the Society on \"The Geographical Results of the Tibet\nMission\" I could not resist devoting special attention to the natural\nbeauty of Tibet. But as I read the manuscript through I feared that\nthis attention to Beauty would be regarded by our Society as a lapse\nfrom the narrow path of pure Geography, and that I should be\nfrowned upon in consequence and not regarded as a serious\ngeographer. I ought, I feared, to have devoted more attention to\nsurvey matters, to the exact trend of the mountains, and the source\nand course of the rivers. But looking back now I see that my natural\ninstinct was a right one--that a knowledge of the beauties of Tibet\nwas not only one geographical result of the Mission, but the chief\ngeographical result; and that, in fact, I ought to have paid not less\nbut more attention, both in Tibet to noting its beauties in all their\nmultitudinous variety, and in writing my lecture to expressing with\npoint and precision what I had seen, so that you might share it with\nme, and learn what is the most valuable characteristic of Tibet.\n\nWhen the new tradition is established, and travellers become aware\nthat we regard knowledge of Natural Beauty as within the scope of\nour activities, the error into which I fell will be avoided. We shall\nthink travellers barbaric if they continue to concern themselves with\nall else about the face of the Earth except its Beauty. We shall no\nlonger tolerate a geographer who will learn everything about the\nutility of a region for military, political, and commercial purposes,\nbut who will take no trouble to see the beauty it contains. We shall\nexpect a much higher standard of him. We shall expect him to\ncultivate the power of the eye till he has a true eye for country--a\nseeing eye; an eye that can see into the very heart and, through all\nthe thronging details, single out the one essential quality; an eye\nwhich can not only observe but can make discoveries. We shall\nrequire him to have the capacity for discriminating the essential\nfrom the unessential, for bringing that essential into proper relief and\nplacing upon it the due emphasis. When he thus has true vision and\ncan really see a country, and when he has acquired the capacity for\nexpressing either in words or in painting what lie has seen, so that he\ncan communicate it to us, then he will have reached the standard\nwhich this Society should demand. And this is nothing less than\nsaying that we expect of him that he should have in him something\nof the poet and the painter.\n\nCareless snap-shotting in the field and idle turning on of lantern\nslides at our meetings will no longer satisfy us. A traveller if he is\ngoing to photograph must spend the hours which a real artist would\ndevote to discovering the essential beauty of a scene, and to\ncomposing his picture before he dreams of exposing his plate. But\nwe want more than photographs: we want pictures to give that\nimportant element in Natural Beauty--the colour. And we want\npictures painted in words as well as on canvas. Not shallow\nrhapsodising of the journalese and guide-book type, but true\nexpression in which each noun exactly fits the object, each epithet is\ntruly applicable, and each phrase is rightly turned, and in which the\nemphasis is placed on the precisely right point, and the whole\ncomposed so as distinctly to bring out that point.\n\nThen in time we shall gather together the most valuable knowledge\nabout the Earth. And when a stranger from a far land comes to us to\nknow about any particular country, we shall be able to provide him\nwith something worth having. When an Australian comes to\nEngland and wishes to know its essential characteristics, we shall do\nsomething more than hand him over maps and treatises on the\norography and hydrography, the distribution of rainfall, of plants\nand animals, and the population. We shall regard ourselves as\nhaving omitted to point out to him the essential characteristic of the\nland from which Englishmen have sprung and in which they dwell if\nwe have not shown him the beauty of its natural features. We shall\ngive him the maps as aids to finding his way about, and we shall\ngive him the treatises. But we shall tell him that these are only aids\nfor special purposes, and that if he is really to understand England\nhe must know its beauty in its many aspects. He will then have the\ngeographical knowledge of chief value about England.\n\n* * *\n\nA project in which the Society is now interested affords an excellent\nopportunity of applying the principles I have been trying to persuade\nyou to adopt. The most prominent feature of this Earth, and the\nfeature of most geographical interest, is the great range of the\nHimalaya Mountains. In this range the supreme summit is Mount\nEverest, the highest point on the Earth, 29,002 feet above sea-level.\nAttempts have been made to ascend the second highest mountain,\nK2, 28,278 feet, notably by the Duke of the Abruzzi. Colonel Hon.\nCharles Bruce, Major Rawling, and others have had in mind the idea\nof ascending Mount Everest itself. And for more than a year past\nboth the Alpine Club and this Society have been definitely\nentertaining the idea of helping forward the achievement of this\nobject. We hope within the next few years to hear of a human being\nstanding on the pinnacle of the Earth.\n\nIf I am asked, What is the use of climbing this highest mountain? I\nreply, No use at all: no more use than kicking a football about, or\ndancing, or playing on the piano, or writing a poem, or painting a\npicture. The geologist predicts to a certainty that no gold will be\nfound on the summit, and if gold did exist there no one would be\nable to work it. Climbing Mount Everest will not put a pound into\nanyone's pocket. It will take a good many pounds out of people's\npockets. It will also entail the expenditure of much time and\nnecessitate the most careful forethought and planning on the part of\nthose who are organising the expedition. And it will mean that those\nwho carry it out will have to keep themselves at the very highest\npitch of physical fitness, mental alertness, and moral courage and\nendurance. They will have to be prepared to undergo the severest\nhardships and run considerable risks. And all this, I say, without the\nprospect of making a single penny. So there will be no _use_ in\nclimbing Mount Everest. If the ascent is made at all it will be made\nfor the sheer love of the thing, from pure enjoyment--the enjoyment\na man gets from pitting himself against a big obstacle.\n\nBut if there is no _use,_ there is unquestionably _good_ in climbing\nMount Everest. The accomplishment of such a feat will elevate the\nhuman spirit. It will give men--and especially us geographers--a\nfeeling that we really are getting the upper hand on the Earth, that\nwe are acquiring a true mastery of our surroundings. As long as we\nimpotently creep about at the foot of these mighty mountains and\ngaze on their summits without attempting to ascend them, we\nentertain towards them a too excessive feeling of awe. We are\nalmost afraid of them. We have a secret fear that they, the material,\nare dominating us, the spiritual. But as soon as we have stood on\ntheir summit we feel that _we_ dominate _them_--that we, the\nspiritual, have ascendancy over them, the material. And if man\nstands on Earth's highest summit he will have an increased pride and\nconfidence in himself in his struggle for ascendancy over matter.\nThis is the incalculable good which the ascent of Mount Everest will\nconfer.\n\nWe who have lived among the peoples of the Himalaya are better\nable than most to appreciate how great this good is. We have seen\nhow tame and meagre is their spirit in comparison with the spirit of,\nfor example, the Swiss, or French, or Italian inhabitants of the Alps;\nand in comparison with what men's spirit ought to be. They have\nmany admirable qualities, but they are fearful and unenterprising.\nContact with them brings home to us what a spirit of daring and high\nadventure means to a people. And we are impressed with the\nnecessity of taking every step possible to create, sustain, and\nstrengthen this spirit in a people and in the human race generally.\nThe ascent of Mount Everest, we believe, will be a big step in that\ndirection.\n\nThe actual climbing of this mountain this Society will leave in the\nhands of the Alpine Club, who have special experience in mountain\nclimbing. But the reconnaissance and mapping of the mountain and\nits neighbourhood will fitly remain with us. And here we reach the\npoint where the principles I have been offering for your\nconsideration might be applied. Were it not that the size of the first\nparty will have to be limited on account of transport and supply\ndifficulties, I should greatly like to have a poet or a painter, or\nanyhow a climber like Mr. Freshfield with a poetic soul, a member\nof it. For I say quite deliberately and mean quite literally that the\ngeography of Mount Everest and its vicinity will not be complete\nuntil it has been painted by some great painter and described by\nsome great poet. Making the most accurate map of it will not be\ncompleting our knowledge of it. The map-maker only prepares the\nway--in some cases for the soldier or the politician or the engineer\n--in this case for the geologist, the naturalist, and above all for the\npainter and poet. Until we have a picture and a poem--in prose or\nverse--of Mount Everest we shall not really know it; our Geography\nwill be incomplete, and, indeed, will lack its chief essential.\n\nThe Duke of the Abruzzi, in his expedition to the second highest\nmountain in the world, took with him the finest mountain\nphotographer there is--Signor Vittorio Sella--and he brought back\nsuperb photographs, for he is a true artist with a natural feeling for\nhigh mountains. But I have seen the very mountains that he\nphotographed, and when I look at these photographs--the best that\nman can produce--I almost weep to think how little of the real\ncharacter of great mountains they communicate to us. The sight of\nthe photographs wrings me with disappointment that it was a\nphotographer and not a painter who went there. Here in Europe are\nartists by the score painting year after year the same old European\nscenes. And there in the Himalaya is the grandest scenery in the\nworld, and not a painter from Europe ever goes there--except just\none, the great Russian Verestchagin, whose pictures, alas! are now\nburied somewhere in Russia. The Indian Services might do\nsomething, and they have indeed produced one great painter of\nHimalayan scenery, Colonel Tanner. But the Services are limited,\nand it is to Europe that we must mainly look.\n\nOn the first expedition to Mount Everest it may be only possible to\nsend a photographer. But this will be a pioneering expedition to\nopen the way, at least, for the painter. And then we may have Mount\nEverest pictured in all her varied and ever-varying moods, as I have,\nfrom a distance, seen her for three most treasured months. Now\nserene and majestic; now in a tumult of fury. Now rooted solid on\nearth; now hung high in the azure. Now hard and material; now\nethereal as spirit. Now stern and austere--cold, and white, and grey;\nnow warm and radiant and of every most delicate hue. Now in one\naspect, now in its precisely opposite, but always sublime and\ncompelling; always pure and unspotted; and always pointing us\nstarward.\n\nThese are the pictures--either by painter or by poet--that we want.\nAnd they can only be painted by one who has himself gone in\namong the mountains, confronted them squarely, braced himself\nagainst them, faced and overcome them--realised their greatness,\nrealised also that great as they are he is greater still.\n\nAnd this that we want of the greatest natural feature of the Earth is\nonly typical of what this Society should require in regard to all\nEarth's other features in order to make our Geography complete. As\nmen have pictured the loveliness of England, the fairness of France,\nthe brilliance of Greece, so we want them to picture the\nspaciousness of Arabia, the luxuriance of Brazil, and the sublimity\nof the Himalaya. For not till that has been done will our Geography\nbe complete. But when that has been accomplished and the quest for\nBeauty is being pushed to the remotest lands and Earth's farthest\ncorners, even the British schoolboy will love his Geography, and our\nscience will have won its final triumph. At nothing less, then, than\nthe heart of the boy should our Society deign to aim.\n\n\n\nAN ADDRESS TO THE UNION SOCIETY OF THE UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON,\nDELIVERED ON MARCH 17, 1921.\n\nYou have been good enough to leave to me the choice of subject on\nwhich to address you this evening, and I have chosen the subject\n\"Natural Beauty and Geography\" because I have the honour to hold\nat present the position of President of the Royal Geographical\nSociety, and am therefore supposed to know something about\nGeography, and because a love of Natural Beauty is one of the great\npassions of my life.\n\nI believe the two are inseparably connected with one another, and,\nbriefly, the view I want to put before you is this--.that a description\nof the Natural Beauty of the Earth should be included in Geography.\nBy Geography we mean a _description_ of the Earth. And we\ncannot adequately describe the Earth until we have observed it in all\nits aspects and really know and understand it. And we cannot really\nunderstand the Earth until we have entered into her spirit and feel\nourselves in harmony with it. But _when_ our spirit is in harmony\nwith the spirit of the Earth we, in that instant, see the Beauty of the\nEarth. When we are seeing Beauty in the Earth we are understanding\nthe Earth. In describing the Beauty of the Earth we shall be\ndescribing something that we really know about it--something of the\nreal nature of the Earth.\n\nFor this reason I maintain that Geography should be taken to include\na description of the Natural Beauty of the Earth's features. The\ndescription of the Earth is not full and complete, and is lacking in its\nmost important particular, when it excludes a description of Natural\nBeauty, and only includes scientific details about the size and shape\nof the earth; its configuration; the composition of the crust; the depth,\narea, and volume of the ocean; the temperature, degree of moisture\nand pressure of the atmosphere; the height of the mountains; the\nlength, breadth, volume, course, and catchment area of its rivers; the\nmineral and vegetable products of various regions; the political areas\ninto which it is divided; the relation of the political and commercial\nactivities of the population to the physical character of the features\nand to the climate. I, of course, acknowledge the importance of all\nthis geographical knowledge. To the historian and the statesman it is\nessential that he should know the part which a certain mountain\nrange or river or desert has played in human history. A soldier must\nknow with extreme accuracy the configuration of the country over\nwhich his army is operating. An engineer must know the exact level\nand contour of a region over which he has to lay a railway or\nconstruct a canal. A merchant must know whether a country\nproduces cotton, tea, and sugar; or wheat, wool, and meat. For all\nthese and others, each for his own particular purpose, we want the\nkind of information I have described above--that is, what usually\ngoes under the name of Geography. But the point I wish now to urge\nis that we shall not have plucked the very flower of geographical\nknowledge until in addition to all this we have a knowledge of the\n_Beauty_ of the Earth.\n\nPerhaps you will understand me better if I illustrate my point. When\na dressmaker has to make a dress for a lady she has to measure her\nwith the minutest accuracy. She must gain a knowledge, by careful\nmeasurement, of the exact shape and size of the lady's body, its true\ncontour, and the length and breadth of the limbs--just as an engineer\nmust have accurate knowledge of the Earth's surface. And to the\ndressmaker _as_ a dressmaker knowledge of the lady's beauty has\nno value whatever. The lady may have the beauty of form of a\nVenus, but if the dressmaker has only knowledge of that beauty and\nhas not exact measurements she will never be able to make the dress.\nBut for humanity at large--and, as far as that goes, for the\ndressmaker herself when she is free of her dressmaking--knowledge\nof the lady's beauty is the knowledge that really matters. Whether\nshe is twenty-six inches round the waist or only twenty-five matters\ncomparatively little.\n\nNow the Earth I regard as a lady--as dear Mother-Earth. A real\nliving being--live enough, at any rate, to give birth to mankind, to\nmicroscopic animalculae first and through them to man. And no one\ncan look at the features of Mother-Earth without recognising her\nBeauty. It is there staring us in the face. So I cannot conceive why\nwe geographers should confine ourselves to the dressmaker attitude\nof mind and describe every other characteristic of the Earth except\nher Beauty. I should have thought that it was the very first thing\nwith which we should have concerned ourselves--that the first duty\nof those who profess and call themselves geographers should have\nbeen to describe the beauty of their Mother-Earth.\n\nSay a visitor from Mars arrived upon the Earth, he would no doubt\nreport on his return that the mountains here were so many thousands\nof feet high and the seas so many thousands of feet deep, and the\narea of the land and sea so many thousand square miles; that the\nproductivity of the land in one quarter had had the effect of\nattracting a large part of the population to that quarter, and the\naridity or cold of another portion had had the effect of preventing\nhuman settlement there; and that mountains, seas, or deserts\nconfining certain groups of human beings tightly within given areas\nhad had the effect of compacting them into highly organised\npolitical bodies. All this and much more geographical knowledge\nthe Martian would bring back to Mars. But his fellow-Martians\nwould tell him that this was all very interesting, but that what they\nreally wanted to know was what the Earth was _like._ They would\nask him if he had not some lantern slides of the Earth, some\nphotographs, something which would convey to them an impression\nof the real character of the Earth. And then at last he would be\ndriven to describe her Beauty.\n\nIn the best words he could find he would express the impression\nwhich the Earth had made upon him. If he were a painter and if the\nMartians possess paint, he would paint pictures to express the\nfeelings which a contemplation of the Earth had aroused in him.\nThat is, he would show them the Beauty of the Earth in her various\naspects. Perhaps he might not be able to see as much Beauty in her\nas we her children see. We may be too partial and see beauties that a\nstranger may not perceive. On the other hand, he might see\nbeauties that we through being so accustomed to them have never\nrecognised--as men living always within sight of some superb\nmountain scarcely appreciate its grandeur. Anyhow, he would\ndescribe to the Martians whatever he had seen of the Beauty of the\nEarth, and then at last they would feel that they were really able to\nknow and understand her.\n\nTo descend from these celestial spheres and to examine what\nactually happens among ourselves when we venture into an\nunknown portion of this globe and seek to know what is there, a\nchief ingredient in the lure which draws men on to fill up the blank\nspaces in the map is undoubtedly a love of Natural Beauty; and its\nNatural Beauty is certainly what above everything else regarding\nthat region remains in their memories after it has been explored. It is\nnot _only_ love of Natural Beauty that draws men on. Love of\nadventure has much to do with it also. Men feel a fearful joy in\npitting themselves against stern natural obstacles and being\ncompelled to exert all their physical energy and endurance, and all\ntheir wit and nerve and courage, in order to overcome them. The\nstiffer the obstacle, the more insistent do they feel the call\nto measure themselves against it. They thrill to the expectation of\nhaving their full capacities and faculties drawn out. By some curious\nnatural instinct they seem driven to put themselves into positions\nwhere they are forced to exert themselves to the full stretch of their\ncapabilities. This same instinct tells them that they will be never so\nhappy as when they are making the very utmost of themselves and\nexercising their whole being at its highest pitch. Anticipation of their\njoy in adventure is therefore no small part of the lure which draws\nmen into the unknown. And with it also is ambition to make a name\nand achieve fame. Some, too, are drawn on by the hope of wealth\nthrough finding gold, diamonds, and so on. But from what I have\nseen of gold and diamond prospectors on the spot in the act of\nprospecting, I should say it was quite as much love of adventure as\ncovetousness of wealth that drew them into unknown parts. For\nexperience shows them only too often that it is not the prospector\nbut the company promoter and financier who make the money even\nwhen the prospector finds the gold or diamonds. Yet prospectors go\nforward as cheerfully as ever. They are fascinated by the life of\nadventure.\n\nAll this is true. Men delight in sheer adventure and in testing and\nsharpening themselves against formidable natural obstacles. Yet we\nshall find that love of Natural Beauty has an even greater share than\nlove of adventure in enticing them to the unknown. Men picture to\nthemselves beauties of the most wonderful kind which they expect\nto see--enchanting islands, mysterious forests, majestic rivers,\nheavenly mountains, delightful lakes. Instinct tells them that they\nwill have the joy which comes from exerting their capacities to the\nfull. But somewhere in the back of their being is, also this\nexpectation of seeing wonders of Natural Beauty, and of seeing\n_more_ of this Beauty from the very fact that they will be seeing it\nas a prize truly _won_ and when their faculties are all tuned up to a\nfine pitch of appreciation.\n\nAnd when they return from the unknown, when the adventure is\nover, when they are again relaxed, it will be the Natural Beauty\nwhich they have seen that will remain in their memories long after\nthey have forgotten their exertion, long after they have expended\nany wealth they may have found, long after they have recorded the\nexact measurements of the various features of the region.\n\nCuriosity to see the Natural Beauty of an unknown region is a\nprincipal ingredient in the lure that draws men to it. And Natural\nBeauty is what, above everything else in regard to the unknown\nregion, stands out in men's memories on their return.\n\nThis at any rate is my own experience, and we are perhaps on safer\nground when we speak of what we have ourselves experienced than\nwhen we speak of what we imagine must be the experiences of\nothers. Though in this case I have good reason to believe that my\nown experiences are very similar to the experiences of others, and\nmay therefore be taken as typical.\n\nAlmost my earliest recollections are of a Somersetshire village set in\na lovely valley, fringed with woods and surrounded by hills. Up the\nhills on the side of the valley on which I lived I used constantly to\ngo. But over the hills on the far side of the river I was never taken.\nSo I used to picture to myself wonderful woods and rivers, and\ncastles and great cities, and I longed to go there. The lure of Natural\nBeauty was beginning to make itself felt. As I grew to boyhood I\nwas fortunate enough to be taken to North Wales, Devonshire and\nCornwall, and later on to Switzerland and the South of France, and\neverywhere I saw much Natural Beauty. But, still, that only made\nme want to see more.\n\nIn all these cases, however, I only went where I was taken. I did not\ngo where I chose or with an object of my own. It was not till I was\nin India and had the first leave from my regiment that I could go\nwhere I liked. Now, where I liked was to the Himalaya. And if I\nlook back now and enquire of myself what made me choose the\nHimalaya, I can say most clearly that it was because I had in my\nmind a vision of long snowy ranges, and dazzling peaks, and\nfrowning precipices, and rushing torrents, and endless forests. I\nthought how glorious it would be to be able to wander about at will\nand see all the magnificent scenery, to feast on the  Natural Beauty,\nand when I came back to be able to tell others of the wonders I had\nseen.\n\nSo I made my first short trip in the Himalaya. But this only served to\narouse my curiosity still more. I had seen some great mountains. But\nthey were none of them more than 20,000 feet in height. I wanted to\nsee still higher mountains. I heard, too, that up the valley of the\nSutlej were some fearful gorges through which the river forced its\nway. I wanted to see them too, and see a great river in the very act of\nforcing its way through the mighty Himalaya. Above all, I wanted to\nsee what lay on the other side of the Himalaya. I wanted to get into\nTibet.\n\nThat for the time being proved impossible, and my thoughts\nwandered off to the far eastern part of Asia. I had read a book called\n\"On the Amur,\" by Atkinson. Not altogether a very veracious book,\nbut a fascinating book for all that. In it were alluring pictures of the\nbroad, placid river. Rich forests came down to the water's edge. And\non its surface were depicted delightful rafts and canoes. To glide\ndown such a river, to camp on its banks and plunge into the forests\nwhich clothed them, seemed a joy second only to the joy of\nscrambling about the Himalaya. So with Mr. H. E. M. James--now\nSir Evan James--I went to Manchuria, not, indeed, to reach the\nAmur itself, but to discover the source of its great tributary the\nSungari, and to follow it down through the forests and over the\nplains for several hundred miles.\n\nNow, what I want to impress upon you is that in all these cases it\nwas the Natural Beauty which was the attraction--it was the picture I\nmade to myself of what these countries would be like that drew me\non. And I am sure it is with others as it was with me. Natural Beauty\nis at bottom what incites the traveller.\n\nAnd, whether I had to go where I was taken or could go where I\nchose, it was the Natural Beauty that stuck in my memory. And\nwhen I returned it was of the Natural Beauty that I wished to tell my\nfriends. And this, again, is the experience of others also. To this day,\nthough I have never since seen them, I remember the beauties of\nCader Idris and Dolgelly, Snowdon and Carnarvon, in North Wales,\nand of the rugged cliffs and long Atlantic waves on the Cornish\ncoast. The Dart, here rippling over boulders and between rocky\nbanks, here in deep, clear salmon pools, here merging into a long\ninlet of the sea and everywhere framed in wooded hill-sides, I have\noften again seen. But even if I had not, its beauty would never have\ndeparted from my memory. And it is the same with the first view of\nthe Alps from the Jura, the view of Lake Geneva, of the Jungfrau, of\nthe Pyrenees from Pau, and of the valley of the Loire. I have never\nseen those parts of Switzerland and of France since then, but their\nbeauty remains with me to this day. And it is of their beauty that I\nhave ever afterwards been naturally inclined to speak. When I talk\nabout the Loire I do not tell my friends that it rises in a certain place,\nis so many miles long, at certain parts has a certain width, depth, and\nvolume, and eventually flows into a certain sea. What I naturally\nspeak about is its beauty, the rich valley through which it flows, the\ngraceful bridges by which it is spanned, the picturesque old towns\nand romantic castles on the banks. And this is the common habit of\nmankind. Our friends may bore us--and we may bore our friends\n--with interminable accounts of the discomfort and inconveniences\nand the petty little incidents of travel. But when they and we have\ngot through that and settle down to describe the country itself, it is\nof its beauty that we speak.\n\nNatural Beauty is what attracts us to a country. Its Natural Beauty is\nthe fact about it which remains most persistently in our memory.\nAnd it is about its Natural Beauty that we are most inclined to speak.\nLastly, when we are in distant countries it is of the Natural Beauty\nthat we chiefly think. When our thoughts go back to the home\ncountry it is not on its exact measurements and configuration that\nthey dwell, but on its beauty.\n\nFrom all of which considerations I conclude that any description of\nthe Earth which excludes a description of its Natural Beauty is\nincomplete. Geography must include a description of Natural Beauty.\nAnd personally I would go so far as to say that the description of\nNatural Beauty is the most important part of Geography.\n\nHere I must answer an objection which may be raised--namely, that\nNatural Beauty is the concern of Aesthetics, not of Geography. An\nobjector may freely acknowledge the value and importance of\nrecognising and describing the Natural Beauty of a country, but may\ncontend that this is beyond the province of Geography. It should be\nleft to poets and painters, he might say, and geographers should\nconfine themselves to the more prosaic business of exact\nmeasurement, of accurate delineation, of reasoning regarding the\nrelation of the facts to one another, and of explaining the facts.\n\nTo such an objector I would reply that Geography is an art as well as\na science. And in parenthesis I may say that I doubt whether any\nscience can be complete which has not art behind it. We shall never\nbe able fully to know and understand the Earth or to describe what\nwe see if we use our intellectual and reasoning powers alone. If we\nare to attain to a complete knowledge of the Earth, and if we are to\ndescribe what we learn about it in an adequate manner so that others\nmay participate in our knowledge, then we must use our hearts as\nwell as our heads. We must be artists as well as meticulous\nclassifiers, cataloguers, and reasoners. The Earth is a living being, a\nthrobbing, palpitating, living being--\"live\" enough to have given\nbirth to the remote ancestors of mankind, and live enough, so some\nbiologists consider, to be continually to this day generating the\nlowliest forms of organisms. To know and understand a living being,\nparticularly when that living being happens to be his own Mother,\nman must use his heart as well as his head.\n\nWith his head alone the geographer may do a vast amount of most\nuseful and necessary work which will help us to understand the\nEarth. He may collect and classify facts about her and record\nmeasurements, and reason about these facts and measurements, but\nif he is to get the deepest vision of the Earth and learn the\nprofoundest truth about her he must exercise his finest spiritual\nsenses as well. And when he brings those faculties of the soul into\nplay, it will be the Beauty on the face of Mother-Earth that he will\nsee and that will disclose to him her real nature.\n\nAnd therefore I hold that if it be the function of Geography to know\nthe Earth and to describe the Earth, then the objection that the\ndescription of its Natural Beauty is outside the scope of Geography\nis not a valid objection. The picture and the poem are as legitimate a\npart of Geography as the map.\n\nSome years ago in lecturing to the Royal Geographical Society I\nsaid that the Society ought to have given Wordsworth the Gold\nMedal. I meant that the poet by his vision had taught us more about\nthe Lake District than any ordinary geographer had been able to see.\nWith his finer sensibility he had been able to see deeper. He had\nbeen able to reveal to us truths about the district which no mere\nordnance surveyor was able to disclose. He was a true discoverer--a\ngeographical discoverer--a geographer of the highest type. He had\nhelped us really to know and understand the district.\n\nBe it noted, too, that he did not, as some would think, put into the\nlakes and hills and valleys something from within himself which\nwas not really in those natural features. The particular beauty that he\nsaw there was there waiting to be revealed. The natural features\naroused emotions in his sensitive soul, and his soul being aroused\nsaw the beauty in them. If the district had been of billiard-table\nflatness, with no lakes, no hills, no valleys, then even he, with all his\npoetic feeling and imagination, could not have put into the district\nwhat it did not possess. The beauty that he saw was really there,\nonly it required a poetic soul to discover and reveal it. The spirit of\nthe poet put itself in touch with the spirit of the district and elicited\nfrom the district what was already in it. The spirit of Wordsworth\nand the spirit of the district acted and reacted upon one another and\ncame into harmony with one another. And as he had the capacity for\ncommunicating to others what he himself had seen, we are now able\nto see in the Lakeland beauties which our forefathers had scarcely\nknown.\n\nThis is why I suggest to you that Natural Beauty should be\nconsidered as a legitimate part of Geography. And if you will look\nabout you, you will note that Natural Beauty is having an increasing\neffect upon the movements of men. There is a very definite\nrelationship between the Beauty of the Earth and her human\ninhabitants. The Poet Laureate builds his house on the top of Boar's\nHill not because the soil is specially productive up there so that he\nmay be able to grow food, for the soil is rather poor; not because\nwater is easily available, for it is very difficult to get, as he found\nwhen his house took fire; not because of the climate, for the climate\nis just as good a hundred feet lower down; not because it is easily\naccessible to Oxford, for a big climb up the hill is entailed every\ntime he returns from that city--not for any of these reasons did he\nbuild his house there, but because of the view which he obtains from\nthat spot. It was Natural Beauty which drew, the Poet Laureate to\nBoar's Hill, as it was Natural Beauty which drew Tennyson to\nBlackdown to build Aldworth with a view all over the Surrey hills\nand the Sussex Downs.\n\nIt is this same spell of Natural Beauty, too, which is drawing people\nall over England to build their houses on the most beautiful spots.\nOur great country-seats--the pride of England--are usually placed\nwhere the natural scenery is finest. Humbler dwellings whenever the\nowner has the opportunity of making a choice are for a similar\nreason built wherever a beautiful view, however limited, may be\nobtained. Whole towns even are built on spots where the\nsurroundings are most beautiful, or, at any rate, if for some other\nreason they were located where they are they tend to spread in the\ndirection of most beauty. Dartmouth was originally built where it is\nbecause that site made an excellent port. But the new town has\nspread all over the cliffs at the entrance of the harbour wherever a\nbeautiful view may be found. It is the same with Torquay. People\noriginally went there on account of the warm, soft air. But though\nthey can get much the same air in any part of the Torquay area,\nwhere they like to build their houses is where they can get the finest\nviews.\n\nOn the Continent a similar tendency may be observed. Nice, Cannes,\nMonte Carlo, Biarritz, Montreux, Vevey, were no doubt originally\nlocated where they are for other reasons than only the facilities they\nafford for observing Natural Beauty, but that they have grown to\nwhat they are is undoubtedly due to Natural Beauty, and Natural\nBeauty has given the direction in which they have expanded. It is\nnot by chance that villas and terraces and hotels have been built just\non those particular points from which the most beautiful views may\nbe seen.\n\nAnd how great is the influence of Natural Beauty upon the\nmovements of men may be gathered from the amount of money\nrailway  companies and hotels spend in advertising the charms of the\nparticular localities which they serve. Railway-carriages are full of\nphotographs and tourist agencies of pictures of different points in\nthe neighbourhood of the railway or hotel. And we may be certain\nthat business companies would not go to the expense of setting up\nthese photographs and pictures if they did not think that people were\ninfluenced by them and would be tempted to travel to the scenes\nthey depict.\n\nThe development of char-a-banc tours is another indication of the\nattraction--and the increasing attraction--of Natural Beauty. Since\nthe War, especially, there has been a remarkable tendency of people\nof every rank in life to rush off whenever they can get a holiday to\nthe most beautiful parts of these islands--to the moors of Yorkshire\nand Devonshire, to the Wye, the Dart, and the Severn, to the\nmountains of Wales, Westmoreland, and Scotland--to wherever\nNatural Beauty may be found. It is a noteworthy and most refreshing\nfeature in our national life.\n\nEvery summer, too, both here and on the Continent, people make\ntheir way to the most beautiful parts of Europe--to Switzerland or\nthe Pyrenees, the Vosges or the Rhine. And in the Dominions and\nAmerica whenever they get their holidays they likewise trek away to\nmountain, lake, or river, wherever Nature may be enjoyed at her best.\nMen may, to carry on the ordinary business of life, be compelled to\nlive in cities and places which are chosen for other reasons than their\nfacilities for observing Natural Beauty. But whenever they can get\naway from their ordinary duties the tendency of men--and a\ntendency increasing in strength--is to fly away to the moors and\nsea-coast and river-sides and wherever else they can see the beauties of\nthe Earth.\n\nThen, again, men are increasingly sensitive about preserving Natural\nBeauty wherever it is best. It is quite true that men by the building of\nindustrial towns and the erection of hideous factories, mining plant,\ngasometers, and so on terribly destroy Natural Beauty. But they are\nat least becoming conscious of their sins in this respect and of what\nthey have lost thereby. They are therefore the more anxious to\npreserve what remains. And whenever there is an attempt to build on\nBox Hill, or erect an electric power-station on Dartmoor, a howl of\nexecration is raised. And this howl means that men do value Natural\nBeauty and mean to preserve it.\n\nYoung countries also realise its value. In California the Yosemite\nValley is preserved for ever for human enjoyment. And in Canada,\nAustralia, and South Africa national parks are protected against the\nencroachments of industrial enterprises.\n\nMen not only preserve spots of Natural Beauty; they also seek to\nimprove them. The nobleman of ancient lineage and the new\nmillionaire alike strive to add to the beauty of their estates. The\nhours they love best are the hours they can devote to opening up\nvistas, planting beautiful trees or flowering shrubs from distant lands,\nbuilding up rockeries, forming artificial lakes, laying out lawns, and\nstocking their gardens with the choicest flowers.\n\nThe effect of Natural Beauty upon man and of man upon Natural\nBeauty is immense. Geographers take note of the effect which the\nAlps by reason of their height and ruggedness, or the Rhine by\nreason of its length, breadth, and depth, have upon the activities of\nmen--upon their history, politics, and economic life. My contention\nis that equally should geographers note the effect which these same\nnatural features of the Earth by reason of their _beauty_ have upon\nmen's activities and movements.\n\nAnd when Natural Beauty is fully recognised as within the province\nof Geography, we shall be taught to pay to it the attention it\ndeserves--taught to look for it, taught how to observe it, taught how\nto describe it, taught where are the regions of special beauty and\nwherein their beauty lies, and lastly taught where in an ordinary\ndistrict Beauty may be found, for even in the flattest, dreariest\nregion _some_ beauty at some time of day or at some season may be\ndiscovered. We shall, in short, be taught to cultivate the sense for\nNatural Beauty, and how to put in fitting words a description of the\nbeauty we see. Our geography textbooks, besides all the\nmathematical, physical, political, and commercial geography they\ncontain, will tell us something of the Natural Beauty of the countries\nthey set themselves to describe. And geographers when they set\nthemselves to describe a new region will not think it necessary to\nconfine themselves within the old limits, but will do what the\nordinary man instinctively does--describe its beauties.\n\nOur methods of describing countries will thus radically change. A\nfew years ago Colonel Tanner of the Survey of India read to the\nRoyal Geographical Society a paper entitled \"Our Present\nKnowledge of the Himalaya.\" In that paper he gave an account of\nthe height of the peaks, the trend of the mountain ranges, the course\nof the rivers, and a deal of other very valuable geographical\ninformation. But in only one single line did he make any remark\nabout the natural beauty of that wonderful region. Yet this omission\nwas not due to any lack of appreciation by Colonel Tanner of\nHimalayan beauty, for he himself had painted the finest pictures of\nthe Himalaya which have yet been produced. He made no mention\nof it because he thought that to describe the natural beauty of the\nHimalaya was to stray beyond the bounds of Geography.\n\nSuch a grievous misconception of the true scope of Geography will,\nI trust, be removed in future. And when it no longer exists\nGeography will require for its pursuit the exercise of the finest\nfaculties of the soul as well as the strictest qualities of the intellect.\nIt will call forth capacity for the closest and most accurate\nobservation and the highest powers of description. To us\nadventure-loving and Nature-loving Englishmen it should of all\nsubjects be the most popular.","title":"The Heart of Nature; or, The Quest for Natural Beauty","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":66551}