THE LIVING GARMENT 37 



If unlimited wealth were mine I should be tempted 

 to become the owner of one of these great hills, to 

 place upon it, as a gift to posterity, a representation 

 in some imperishable material of these black cattle 

 engaged with their human fellow- creatures in getting 

 in the harvest. Doubtless the people of the future 

 would say that the hill was never really mine to dis- 

 pose of as I thought proper ; but I imagine that for 

 their own sakes they would respect the statuary, the 

 memorial of a vanished time : — 



Cold Pastoral ! 

 When old age shall this generation waste, 

 Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe 

 Than ours, a friend to man. 



To begin with, a sculptor of genius would be required, 

 a giant among artists ; and the materials would be 

 gigantic blocks of granite and marble — red, black, 

 grey, and yellow. From these would be wrought, 

 twice or thrice the size of life, a group — a partly- 

 loaded waggon, drawn by three couples of great black 

 bullocks, attended by four or five labourers in their 

 rough grey garments, strong men with brown bearded 

 faces and smooth-cheeked youths ; one on the top of 

 the load, the others with their forks tossing up more 

 sheaves; the oxen holding up their horned, shaggy 

 fronts — all but the leaders, who have more freedom ; 

 and these would be turning aside with lowered heads, 

 eagerly snatching mouthfuls of yellow straw from a 

 sheaf fallen by chance in their way. 



