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are bowled by a breeze from behind the evening。 They are round and
brilliant； and come leaping up from the horizon for hours。 This is
a frolic and haphazard sky。
All unlike this is the sky that has a centre； and stands composed
about it。 As the clouds marshalled the earthly mountains； so the
clouds in turn are now ranged。 The tops of all the celestial Andes
aloft are swept at once by a single ray； warmed with a single
colour。 Promontory after league…long promontory of a stiller
Mediterranean in the sky is called out of mist and grey by the same
finger。 The cloudland is very great； but a sunbeam makes all its
nations and continents sudden with light。
All this is for the untravelled。 All the winds bring him this
scenery。 It is only in London； for part of the autumn and part of
the winter； that the unnatural smoke…fog comes between。 And for
many and many a day no London eye can see the horizon； or the first
threat of the cloud like a man's hand。 There never was a great
painter who had not exquisite horizons； and if Corot and Crome were
right； the Londoner loses a great thing。
He loses the coming of the cloud； and when it is high in air he
loses its shape。 A cloud…lover is not content to see a snowy and
rosy head piling into the top of the heavens； he wants to see the
base and the altitude。 The perspective of a cloud is a great part
of its design … whether it lies so that you can look along the
immense horizontal distances of its floor； or whether it rears so
upright a pillar that you look up its mountain steeps in the sky as
you look at the rising heights of a mountain that stands； with you；
on the earth。
The cloud has a name suggesting darkness； nevertheless； it is not
merely the guardian of the sun's rays and their director。 It is the
sun's treasurer； it holds the light that the world has lost。 We
talk of sunshine and moonshine； but not of cloud…shine； which is yet
one of the illuminations of our skies。 A shining cloud is one of
the most majestic of all secondary lights。 If the reflecting moon
is the bride； this is the friend of the bridegroom。
Needless to say； the cloud of a thunderous summer is the most
beautiful of all。 It has spaces of a grey for which there is no
name； and no other cloud looks over at a vanishing sun from such
heights of blue air。 The shower…cloud； too； with its thin edges；
comes across the sky with so influential a flight that no ship going
out to sea can be better worth watching。 The dullest thing perhaps
in the London streets is that people take their rain there without
knowing anything of the cloud that drops it。 It is merely rain； and
means wetness。 The shower…cloud there has limits of time； but no
limits of form； and no history whatever。 It has not come from the
clear edge of the plain to the south； and will not shoulder anon the
hill to the north。 The rain； for this city； hardly comes or goes；
it does but begin and stop。 No one looks after it on the path of
its retreat。
WINDS OF THE WORLD
Every wind is； or ought to be； a poet； but one is classic and
converts everything in his day co…unity； another is a modern man；
whose words clothe his thoughts； as the modern critics used to say
prettily in the early sixties； and therefore are separable。 This
wind； again； has a style； and that wind a mere manner。 Nay； there
are breezes from the east…south…east； for example； that have hardly
even a manner。 You can hardly name them unless you look at the
weather vane。 So they do not convince you by voice or colour of
breath； you place their origin and assign them a history according
as the hesitating arrow points on the top of yonder ill…designed
London spire。
The most certain and most conquering of all is the south…west wind。
You do not look to the weather…vane to decide what shall be the
style of your greeting to his morning。 There is no arbitrary rule
of courtesy between you and him； and you need no arrow to point to
his distinctions； and to indicate to you the right manner of
treating such a visitant。
He prepares the dawn。 While it is still dark the air is warned of
his presence； and before the window was opened he was already in the
room。 His sun … for the sun is his … rises in a south…west mood；
with a bloom on the blue； the grey； or the gold。 When the south…
west is cold； the cold is his own cold … round； blunt； full； and
gradual in its very strength。 It is a fresh cold； that comes with
an approach； and does not challenge you in the manner of an
unauthorised stranger； but instantly gets your leave； and even a
welcome to your house of life。 He follows your breath in at your
throat； and your eyes are open to let him in； even when he is cold。
Your blood cools； but does not hide from him。
He has a splendid way with his sky。 In his flight； which is that；
not of a bird； but of a flock of birds； he flies high and low at
once： high with his higher clouds； that keep long in the sight of
man； seeming to move slowly； and low with the coloured clouds that
breast the hills and are near to the tree…tops。 These the south…
west wind tosses up from his soft horizon； round and successive。
They are tinted somewhat like ripe clover…fields； or like hay…fields
just before the cutting； when all the grass is in flower； and they
are； oftener than all other clouds； in shadow。 These low…lying
flocks are swift and brief； the wind casts them before him； from the
western verge to the eastern。
Corot has painted so many south…west winds that one might question
whether he ever painted； in his later manner at least； any others。
His skies are thus in the act of flight； with lower clouds
outrunning the higher； the farther vapours moving like a fleet out
at sea； and the nearer like dolphins。 In his 〃Classical Landscape：
Italy；〃 the master has indeed for once a sky that seems at anchor；
or at least that moves with 〃no pace perceived。〃 The vibrating
wings are folded； and Corot's wind； that flew through so many
springs； summers； and Septembers for him （he was seldom a painter of
very late autumn）； that was mingled with so many aspen…leaves； that
strewed his forests with wood for the gatherer； and blew the broken
lights into the glades； is charmed into stillness； and the sky into
another kind of immortality。 Nor are the trees in this antique
landscape the trees so long intimate with Corot's south…west wind；
so often entangled with his uncertain twilights。 They are as quiet
as the cloud； and such as the long and wild breezes of Romance have
never shaken or enlaced。
Upon all our islands this south…west wind is the sea wind。 But
elsewhere there are sea winds that are not from the south…west。
They； too； none the less； are conquerors。 They； too； are always
strong； compelling winds that take possession of the light； the
shadow； the sun； moon； and stars； and constrain them all alike to
feel the sea。 Not a field； not a hillside； o