12 THE LAND'S END 



rest with closed wings, congregated on wind-swayed 

 reeds and other slender plants. It was the shape and 

 deep red colour of the sails and the way they hung 

 from the masts and cordage which restored this 

 butterfly picture to my mind. And in every instance 

 in which a resemblance could be traced it turned out 

 to be to some natural and invariably to a beautiful 

 object or scene. The spectacle had, in fact, that 

 charm, which is so rare in man's work, of something 

 wholly natural, which fits into the scene and is part 

 and parcel with nature itself. 



In buildings we get a similar effect at the two 

 extremes in the humblest and the highest work of 

 man's hands ; in the small old thatched and rose- and 

 creeper-covered cottage in perfect harmony with its 

 surroundings, and in ancient majestic castles and 

 cathedrals, in which the sharp lines and contours have 

 been blurred by decay of the material and the whole 

 surface weathered and stained with lichen and alga 

 and in many cases partially draped with ivy. 



It struck me before I had been long in St. Ives that, 

 in spite of the delightful mildness of the climate and 

 the charm of the place, nobody but myself was winter- 

 ing there. The lodging-houses were quite empty ; 

 the people were the natives or else the artists, who 

 form a pretty numerous colony. The few others 

 to be seen were visitors for the day from Penzance, 

 Falmouth, or some other spot in the " Cornish 

 Riviera." This was not a cause of regret, seeing 

 there were birds for society, especially that old fav- 

 ourite, the jackdaw. Doubtless he is to be seen there 



