354 THE EULOGY OF RICHARD JEFFERIES. 



place. Nothing, except a steady and consistent 

 belief in his own future, the nature of which 

 he does not even suspect, reveals the power 

 latent in his mind. There is nothing at all 

 in these early utterances to show the depths 

 of poetry in his soul. Nay, I think there were 

 none of these depths in him at first. So long 

 as he worked among men, and contemplated 

 their ways, he felt no touch of poetry, he saw 

 no gleam of light. Mankind seemed to him 

 sordid and creeping ; either oppressor or op- 

 pressed. Away from men, upon the breezy 

 down and among the woods, he is filled with 

 thoughts which, at first, vanish like the photo- 

 graphs of scenery upon the eye. Presently 

 he finds out the way to fix those photographs. 

 Then he is transformed, but not suddenly ; 

 no, not suddenly. When he discovers the 

 Gamekeeper at Home, he begins to be articu- 

 late; with every page that follows he becomes 

 more articulate. At first he draws a faithful 

 picture of the cottager, the farmer, the game- 

 keeper, the poacher; the pictures are set in 

 appropriate scenery; by degrees the figures 

 vanish and the setting remains. But it is 



