Tremendous Trifles
A collection of Essays
(1909)
Preface
These fleeting sketches are all republished by kind permission of the Editor of the Daily News, in which paper they appeared. They amount to no more than a sort of sporadic diary* diary recording one day in twenty which happened to stick in the fancy*** only kind of diary the author has ever been able to keep. Even that diary he could only keep by keeping it in public, for bread and cheese. But trivial as are the topics they are not utterly without a connecting thread of motive. As the reader's eye strays, with hearty relief, from these pages, it probably alights on something, a bed-post or a lamp-post, a window blind or a wall. It is a thousand to one that the reader is looking at something that he has never seen: that is, never realised. He could not write an essay on such a post or wall: he does not know what the post or wall mean. He could not even write the synopsis of an essay; as "The Bed-Post; Its Significance******** Essential to Idea of Sleep***** Felt as Infinite**** of Monumental Architecture," and so on. He could not sketch in outline his theoretic attitude towards window-blinds, even in the form of a summary. "The Window-Blind*** Analogy to the Curtain and Veil** Modesty Natural?******* of and Avoidance of the Sun, etc., etc." None of us think enough of these things on which the eye rests. But don't let us let the eye rest. Why should the eye be so lazy? Let us exercise the eye until it learns to see startling facts that run across the landscape as plain as a painted fence. Let us be ocular athletes. Let us learn to write essays on a stray cat or a coloured cloud. I have attempted some such thing in what follows; but anyone else may do it better, if anyone else will only try.
Unfold
Once upon a time, it seems centuries ago, I was prevailed on to take
a small part in one of those historical processions or pageants
which happened to be fashionable in or about the year 1909.
And since I tend, like all who are growing old, to re-enter
the remote past as a paradise or playground, I disinter a memory
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