54 MORE POT-POURRI 



we remain in its close neighbourhood the less are we dis- 

 posed to allow that it is monotonous. Melancholy it may 

 be, as it is fierce or wild or lovely by turns, but it is not 

 monotonous. Bather it is, next to the sky, the most 

 changeful thing we know : and by this I do not mean 

 only the obvious motion and restlessness of the waves, 

 but the more subtle and ever- varying alternation of the 

 whole aspect of the sea. It is usual to suppose that these 

 moods are mainly in the mind of the observer ; but that 

 is not so. The sea, like nature generally, has its own 

 absolute conditions conditions which prompt and sug- 

 gest, rather than follow, emotions in the mind of man. 

 To feel all this, however, one must live continuously 

 near the sea.' I do not agree that this is really necessary 

 in order to appreciate the sea. I think one does feel all 

 Mr. Milner describes, even if one goes only for a short time, 

 so long as one lives close to the shore, no going out of the 

 house being necessary in order to seethe sea, still less a long 

 walk, which means remaining only a few minutes by the 

 waves. Mr. Milner continues : ' We are so contiguous 

 to the sea here that, looking through the window as I 

 write, I can see nothing but the wide stretch of waters, 

 just as I should if I were sitting in the cabin of a vessel ; 

 and if I stand at the door I can fling a stone into the 

 fringe of the tide. Crossing the road, one step brings me 

 to the shore ; and here you may sit all the day long, with 

 the sea breeze blowing round you and the sound of the 

 water ever in your ears. This sound is usually resolvable 

 into three elements. There is first the great boom of the 

 waves, the chorus of many waters, far and near, heard in 

 one deep unison ; then there is a noise as of liquid being 

 poured continuously out of one vessel into another that, 

 I think, is caused by the falling crest of the waves ; and 

 lastly, there is a low and lisping talk ever going on 

 between the water and the pebbles.' I call that an ex- 



