I Knew Well Enough, But Had Never
Put It Into Plain Words For My Own Satisfaction.
We are all pretty familiar from experience with the
limitations of the sense of smell and the fact that agreeable
odours please us only fitfully; the sensation comes as a
pleasing shock, a surprise, and is quickly gone.
If we
attempt to keep it for some time by deliberately smelling a
fragrant flower or any perfume, we begin to have a sense of
failure as if we had exhausted the sense, keen as it was a
moment ago.
There must be an interval of rest for the nerve before the
sensation can be renewed in its first freshness. Now it is
the same, though in a less degree, with the more important
sense of sight. We look long and steadily at a thing to know
it, and the longer and more fixedly we look the better, if it
engages the reasoning faculties; but an aesthetic pleasure
cannot be increased or retained in that way. We must look,
merely glancing as it were, and look again, and then again,
with intervals, receiving the image in the brain even as we
receive the "nimble emanation" of a flower, and the image is
all the brighter for coming intermittently. In a large
prospect we are not conscious of this limitation because of
the wideness of the field and the number and variety of
objects or points of interest in it; the vision roams hither
and thither over it and receives a continuous stream or series
of pleasing impressions; but to gaze fixedly at the most
beautiful object in nature or art does but diminish the
pleasure. Practically it ceases to be beautiful and only
recovers the first effect after we have given the mind an
interval of rest.
Strolling about the green with this thought in my mind, I
began to pay attention to the movements of a man who was
manifestly there with the same object as myself - to look at
the cathedral. I had seen him there for quite half an hour,
and now began to be amused at the emphatic manner in which he
displayed his interest in the building. He walked up and down
the entire length and would then back away a distance of a
hundred yards from the walls and stare up at the spire, then
slowly approach, still gazing up, until coming to a stop when
quite near the wall he would remain with his eyes still fixed
aloft, the back of his head almost resting on his back between
his shoulders. His hat somehow kept on his head, but his
attitude reminded me of a saying of the Arabs who, to give an
idea of the height of a great rock or other tall object, say
that to look up at it causes your turban to fall off. The
Americans, when they were chewers of tobacco, had a different
expression; they said that to look up at so tall a thing
caused the tobacco juice to run down your throat.
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