BEFOEE BEAUTY 151 



follows as the inevitable result; and the final im- 

 pression of health and finish -which her works make 

 upon the mind is owing as much to those things 

 which are not technically called beautiful as to those 

 which are. The former give identity to the latter. 

 The one is to the other what substance is to form, 

 or bone to flesh. The beauty of nature includes all 

 that is called beautiful, as its flower; and all that is 

 not called beautiful, as its stalk and roots. 



Indeed, when I go to the woods or fields, or 

 ascend to the hilltop, I do not seem to be gazing 

 upon beauty at all, but to be breathing it like the air. 

 I am not dazzled or astonished; I am in no hurry 

 to look lest it be gone. I would not have the litter 

 and debris removed, or the banks trimmed, or the 

 ground painted. What I enjoy is commensurate 

 with the earth and sky itself. It clings to the 

 rocks and trees; it is kindred to the roughness and 

 savagery ; it rises from every tangle and chasm ; it 

 perches on the dry oak-stubs with the hawks and 

 buzzards; the crows shed it from their wings and 

 weave it into their nests of coarse sticks; the fox 

 barks it, the cattle low it, and every mountain path 

 leads to its haunts. I am not a spectator of, but a 

 participator in it. It is not an adornment; its roots 

 strike to the centre of the earth. 



All true beauty in nature or in art is like the 

 iridescent hue of mother-of-pearl, which is intrinsic 

 and necessary, being the result of the arrangement 

 of the particles, — the flowering of the mechanism of 

 the shell; or like the beauty of health which comes 



