September 6, igiy 
LAND & WATER 
A Vision of England 
By Charles Marriott 
19 
•The Pool 
By F. L. Origgi 
MOST of us carry about i^ our hearts a concep- 
tion of England that is much more real to us 
than the England that we see. Generally, 
though not always, it is associated with the place 
where we s}H;nt our childhood, and takes its character from 
that ; with the strange result that the details of Thomas Hood's 
" I remember, I remember " are almost universally recognised. 
.As a rule, the conception does not go much further than 
tins mental picture of "the house where I was bom," but 
in some of us it goes on developing under the surface of life, 
and we are always haJf-consciou.sly confirming and addine 
bits to it. For no appar 
ent reason certain things 
whether actually seen or 
experienced or only read 
about or heard in music, 
are immediately recog- 
nised as belonging to this 
England of the heart ; 
while, equally without 
reason, certain others 
are not. Often it is 
much more familiar in 
dreams than in waking 
moments, which seems 
to show that it exists in 
the sub-conscious rather 
than the conscious mind. 
This would account for 
its extraordinary reality 
and consistency, as also 
for the fact that, if their 
broken utterances are to 
l>e trusted, it is the 
England to which dying 
men return. In its character, persistent and at the same 
time fragmentary with lapses as incomprehensible as the 
vivid reality of some portions, it might be compared 
to the original writing of a palimpsi>.st. Life writes another 
text over it, but nobody having made out parts of the 
original would hesitate for a moment to sav Svhich was 
the more real and true, no matter how full and active 
his life might have been. How much, if anything, •the 
original text owes to ante-natal memory I .am not pn- 
pared to say ; but it is quite certain that it embodies many 
scenes nn<l incidents that could not have come into individual 
• These photographs are reproduced by courtesy of tho PHbltshjrs, 
The Twenty-One r.allery. York Buildings, Adelphi. 
experience. Almost everj^body would be able to give instances 
of their delighted astonishment at coming upon some unmis- 
takable reference to their England in a book, picture or piece 
of music. In my own case personal familiarity with the death 
of Sir John Falstaft may be explained by the fact that f had 
Ihe good fortune to spend my childhood in Gloucestershire, 
where the people talK like that to this day ; but why should 
I know my way about Lamb's " Mackery End " and " Blakes- 
moor?" Or why, again, should the second variation of the 
second movenient of Beethoven's Sonata Appassionala, 
which is not even English, recall for me not only a particular 
1 scene but a particular 
dav ? It is tnie that 
there is here a sugges- 
tion of evening bells over 
summer fields ; but whv 
should that music bring 
back the fields when the 
bells themselves do not ? 
As for the death of 
Colonel Newcome, that 
is England for so many 
p^jople that I shall not 
claim it as personal. 
Every now and then 
you meet a pt-rson in 
whom the' England of 
the heart is so constant 
that , they may be said 
to live in it. Stich per- 
sons are usually in- 
Bv *•. L. Origgi different to their actual 
The Ford surroundings. They can 
live in a slum— or what 
is worse — a new sulnirb 
without prejudice to their health or happiness, because 
their spiritual home is elsewhere. Indeed, j-ou can test the 
reality of England in a man's heart by his regard for actual sur- 
roundings. If he is alwaj's girding against bricks and mortar 
you may be sure that the ^reality is weak ; anrl, on the other 
hand, people in whom it is strong an; not more than indul- 
gently interested in such admirable institutions as garden 
cities and stiburbs. They ckm't need them. Probably the 
most real Englishman, in that sense, that ever lived was 
William Hlake. This little cockney printer had an England 
so. firm and complete and consistent that he took it for granted 
in an allusivn manner that can only bo called exasp<Tating 
to less fortunate people. I often think that George Ills 
' Take them awav !" on being shown some of Blake's drawings. 
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