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indeed the dullest of all sea…margins。 But away in the gentle bays of
Jersey the summer grows a crop of seaweed which the long ocean wave
leaves in noble curves upon the beach； for under sunny water the storms
have gathered the crops。 The Channel Island people go gleaning after the
sea； and store the seaweed for their fields。 Thus the beaches of Jersey bays
are not altogether barren； and have a kind of dead and accessory harvest
for the farmer。 After a night of storm these crops are stacked and carted
and carried； the sea… wind catching away loose shreds from the summits of
the loads。
Further south； if the growth of the sea is not so put to use； the shore
has yet its seasons。 You could hardly tell； if you did not know the month；
whether a space of sea or a series of waves； at Aldborough； say； or at
Dover； were summer or winter water； but in those fortunate regions which
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are southern； yet not too southern for winter； and have thus the strongest
swing of change and the fullest pulse of the year； there are a winter sea
and a summer sea； brilliantly different； with a delicate variety between the
hastening blue of spring and the lingering blue of September。 There you
bathe from the rocks； untroubled by tides； and unhurried by chills； and
with no incongruous sun beating on your head while your fingers are cold。
You bathe when the sun has set； and the vast sea has not a whisper； you
know a rock in the distance where you can rest； and where you float； there
float also by you opalescent jelly…fish； half transparent in the perfectly
transparent water。 An hour in the warm sea is not enough。 Rock…
bathing is done on lonely shores。 A city may be but a mile away； and the
cultivated vineyards may be close above the seaside pine…trees； but the
place is perfectly remote。 You pitch your tent on any little hollow of beach。
A charming Englishwoman who used to bathe with her children under the
great rocks of her Mediterranean villa in the motionless white evenings of
summer put white roses in her hair； and liked to sit out on a rock at sea
where the first rays of the moon would touch her。
You bathe in the Channel in the very prose of the day。 Nothing in the
world is more uninteresting than eleven o'clock。 It is the hour of
mediocrity under the best conditions； but eleven o'clock on a shingly
beach； in a half…hearted summer； is a very common thing。 Twelve has a
dignity always； and everywhere its name is great。 The noon of every day
that ever dawned is in its place heroic； but eleven is worldly。 One o'clock
has an honest human interest to the hungry child； and every hour of the
summer afternoon； after three； has the grace of deepening and lingering
life。 To bathe at eleven in the sun； in the wind； to bathe from a machine；
in a narrow sea that is certainly not clear and is only by courtesy clean； to
bathe in obedience to a tyrannical tide and in water that is always much
colder than yourself； to bathe in a hurry and in publicthis is to know
nothing rightly of one of the greatest of all the pleasures that humanity
takes with nature。
By the way； the sea of Jersey has more the character of a real sea than
of mere straits。 These temperate islands would be better called the Ocean
Islands。 When Edouard Pailleron was a boy and wrote poetry； he
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composed a letter to Victor Hugo； the address whereof was a matter of
some thought。 The final decision was to direct it； 〃A Victor Hugo；
Ocean。〃 It reached him。 It even received a reply： 〃I am the Past； you
are the Future； I am； etc。〃 If an English boy had had the same idea the
name of the Channel Islands would have spoilt it。 〃A Victor Hugo； La
Manche；〃 would hardly have interested the postal authorities so much； but
〃the Channel〃 would have had no respect at all。 Indeed； this last is
suggestive of nothing but steamers and of grey skies inland formless
grey skies； undesigned； with their thin cloud torn to slender rags by a
perpetual wind。
As for the children； to whom belongs the margin of the sea； machine…
bathing at eleven o'clock will hardly furnish them with a magical early
memory。 Time was when this was made penitential to them； like the rest
of life； upon a principle that no longer prevails。 It was vulgarized for
them and made violent。 A bathing woman； type of all ugliness in their
sensitive eyes； came striding； shapeless； through the unfriendly sea； seized
them if they were very young； ducked them； and returned them to the
chilly machine； generally in the futile and superfluous saltness of tears。
〃Too much of water had they；〃 poor infants。
None the less is the barren shore the children's； and St。 Augustine；
Isaac Newton； and Wordsworth had not a vision of sea…beaches without a
child there。
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THE BOY
After an infancy of more than common docility and a young childhood
of few explicit revolts； the boy of twelve years old enters upon a phase
which the bystander may not well understand but may make shift to note
as an impression。
Like other subtle things； his position is hardly to be described but by
negatives。 Above all； he is not demonstrative。 The days are long gone
by when he said he wanted a bicycle； a top hat； and a pipe。 One or two
of these things he has； and he takes them without the least swagger。 He
avoids expression of any kind。 Any satisfaction he may feel with things
as they are is rather to be surprised in his manner than perceived in his
action。 Mr。 Jaggers； when it befell him to be astonished； showed it by a
stop of manner； for an indivisible momentnot by a pause in the thing he
chanced to be about。 In like manner the boy cannot prevent his most
innocent pleasures