That account of so fine a case of inward confidence would
indeed during those very first years have sinned somewhat by
anticipation; yet something of the beauty--that is of the unmatched
virtuosity--of the attitude finally achieved did even at the early time
colour the air of intercourse with him for those who had either few
enough or many enough of their own reserves. The second of these
conditions sprang from a due anxiety for one's own interests, more or
less defined in advance and therefore, as might be, more or less
menaced; the other proviso easily went with vagueness--vagueness as to
what things were one's interests, seeing that the exhibited working of
an esthetic and a moral confidence conjoined on that scale and at play
together unhampered would perhaps prove for the time an attraction
beyond any other. This reflection must verily, in our relation, have
brought about my own quietus--so far as that mild ecstasy could be
divorced from agitation. I recall at all events less of the agitation
than of the ecstasy; the primary months, certain aspects even of the few
following years, look out at me as from fine accommodations,
acceptances, submissions, emotions, all melted together, that one must
have taken for joys of the mind and gains of the imagination so clear as
to cost one practically nothing. They are what I see, and are all I want
to see, as I look back; there hangs about them a charm of thrilled good
faith, the flush and throb of crowding apprehensions, that has scarce
faded and of which I can only wish to give the whole picture the
benefit. I bottle this imponderable extract of the loitering summers of
youth, when every occasion really seemed to stay to be gathered and
tasted, just for the sake of its faint sweetness.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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