And For
This Reason, When We Are Aweary Of The Style Of The Stylist,
Where The Living Breathing Body Becomes
Of less consequence
than its beautiful clothing, it is a relief, and refreshment,
to turn from the precious and delicate
Expression, the
implicit word, sought for high and low and at last found, the
balance of every sentence and perfect harmony of the whole
work - to go from it to the simple vigorous unadorned talk of
Rural Rides. A classic, and as incongruous among classics as
a farmer in his smock-frock, leggings, and stout boots would
appear in a company of fine gentlemen in fashionable dress.
The powerful face is the main thing, and we think little of
the frock and leggings and how the hair is parted or if parted
at all. Harsh and crabbed as his nature no doubt was, and
bitter and spiteful at times, his conversation must yet have
seemed like a perpetual feast of honeyed sweets to his farmer
friend. Doubtless there was plenty of variety in it: now he
would expatiate on the beauty of the green downs over which he
had just ridden, the wooded slopes in their glorious autumn
colours, and the rich villages between; this would remind him
of Malthus, that blasphemous monster who had dared to say that
the increase in food production did not keep pace with
increase of population; then a quieting down, a
breathing-space, all about the turnip crop, the price of eggs
at Weyhill Fair, and the delights of hare coursing, until
politics would come round again and a fresh outburst from the
glorious demagogue in his tantrums.
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