Authors, English -- 19th century -- Biography; Jefferies, Richard, 1848-1887
The young couple remained at Swindon until February, 1877, when
Jefferies thought himself justified in giving up his post on the _North
Wilts Herald_, and in removing nearer London. But it must not be too
near London. He must only be near in the sense of ready access by train.
Therefore he took a house at Surbiton--it was at No. 2, Woodside. At
this semi-rural place one is near to the river, the fields, and the
woods. It is not altogether a desertion of the country. Jefferies
_could_ not leave the country altogether. It was necessary for him to
breathe the fresh air of the turf and the fragrance of the newly-turned
clods. He could not live, much less work, unless he did this. As for his
work, that was daily suggested and stimulated by this continual
communing with Nature. Poverty might prick him--it might make him uneasy
for the moment--it never made him unhappy--but unless his brain was full
to overflowing, he could not work. Out of the abundance of his heart his
mouth spoke. It seems, indeed, futile to regret that such a man as this
did not make a more practical advantage to himself out of his success.
He could not. If a man cannot, he cannot. Just as in scientific
observation there is a personal equation, so in the conduct of life
there is a personal limitation. Some unknown force holds back a man when
he has reached a certain point. The life of every man, rightly studied,
shows his personal limitation. But without the whole life of a man
spread out before us, it is not easy to understand where this personal
limitation begins. There is no more to be said when this is once
understood. It is a matter of personal limitation. Those kindly people
who continually occupy themselves with the concerns of their neighbours,
constantly go wrong because they do not understand the personal
limitation. What we call fate is often another word for limitation. Why
do I not write better English, and why have I not a nobler style, and
why cannot I become the greatest writer who ever lived? Because I cannot
rise above a certain level. If I am a wise man, I find out that level; I
reach it, and am content therewith. Why did not Jefferies make himself
rich with the opportunities he had? Because he could not. Because to
grasp an opportunity and to turn it to his own material interest was a
thing beyond his personal limitation. To seize Time by the forelock,
though he go ever so slowly, is to some men impossible. For while they
look on and hesitate, another steps in before them; or the world is
looking on and observes the situation, ready to sneer and snigger, and
there seems a kind of meanness in the act--very likely there _is_
meanness; or to do so one must trample on one's neighbours; or one must
desert one's habits of life, throw over all that one loves, and make a
change of which the least that can be said is that it is certain to make
one uncomfortable for the remainder of life.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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