The Washington herald., 1914-08-19
Sweet IdIeness.
~ ElfoRY D. HAYNEs.

The Italians say dolce far niente. But the good
old English language say it better, at least for
bur ears The thing itself is unsayable. Idleness
that has moral right indulge, having worked
proper days, that is sweet beyond all expression The
habtual lounger the ider in all days, has part in it.
Nor does it that it can ever be to an Italian
in his semi-tropic what it is to US on summer day
after the cold winter.
The noiseless sunbeams pour their light out over
the silent landscape The vast unbroken stiffness of
the countryside uls you to repose There is nothing
to do but to contemplate the landscape Not that you
are looking at anything in particular. r..
You scarce notice any object, YET your eyes are
wide open and there is such food of light. Even
sight itself is idle Not in sleep, but in sweet
idleness.. You do not read book. You do not con-
verse with your friend sitting by. Do you think?
Hardly that; certainly you are not thinking of any
problem. You not remembering any past event.
You are not hoping fearing a future event You
ignore tomorrow. Let tomorrow stay where it is.
The present is all and in all and there is nothing in
the present Being in good health you breathe and
do not know il. You have consciousness of your
foot as weary nor of your back lame. Your whole
body sits your spirit, as light as air and wholly
unused. You do not even raise your hand from the
arm of the luxuriant piazza chair. Such is sweet
idleness.
There is no craving for amusement More amuse-
ment is not to be mentioned delight in comparison
with sweet idleness. You do not wish to 90 any
where Just where you are is perfectly satisfying
You do not wish for some to and help you
do nothing. Perhaps tomorrow one will do some
thing. Climb yonder mountain, for instance But no
one can help you do nothing. 1t is all your own
affair
If there is some one whom you love sitting hard
hy AZ II ;S to ha booaJ tb. =.
sweety idle also. But two people can let each other
alone, and more in sweet idleness There are peo-
pie who fatal to sweet idleness. They are rest
less they talk and insist on doing nothing worth va
cations while and the board bill. They seem utterly
unable TO be sweetly idle allow any one else to be-
After while the leaves of the trees out there on
the lawn catch the eye. These leaves barely move
Then in an invisible zephyr they do move There is
enchanment in watching the faint and feeble stirring
of the leaves.
And high over the trees the pageant clouds move
like silver castles like conveys OF angels going on
some blessed errand. The clouds are so high above
earth, where troubles are, that it is rapturous
repose to imagine ones self riding on the heecy
masses. Idle clouds they They sow not neither
do they spin nor plow, gather into barns. And
they take such beautiful shapes going nowhere direct
from nowhere that the idle spectator to go with
ulein NO Ont VIII ask, Mnere dlQ you go today
If any one does ask we will say, Ask the clouds
where went. They only know"
Dolce far niente is the Brahmins Nirvana 1t is |
the ecstacy of existence merely There is no duty in
it, asprant hope revelation no love There are
infinitely better things Self-sacrihce and herosm
for instance. But are not talking about these |
nobler things Sweet idleness is our theme |
The vesper bell is ringing and the eyensong now chants
upon the air. do not heed them, however, for !
sweet idleness enslaves me.
The far faint roar of the mighty railway train !
sounds brave and manfuly, speaking OF achievement
and honorable toll do not allow it to appeal to me-
Let other men do great things mastering the whole |
globe | am sweetly idle. ! am neither good nor
bad, neither wise ignorant I am simply an idef
1t cannot last long with the Yankee. 1t is mood
for the equatorial heat Today one will be idle Just
for little season one will do nothing and luxuriate
in it. Having sat here under the trees one will move
TO the garden seat Then one will stroll without an
GRAND, going nowhere. Then one will sit and look
down on the placid river moveless, so shining 50
idle, the river that has rapids and breakers.
Sweet idleness is not sleep. Oh, far from that
Sleep is cousin to death. And do not think of
the dead idle Idleness is the living consciousness
of nothing to do. 1t is the victory that overcometh
this workaday world which is always driving man
like a slave Idleness is supreme indifference to
all duty Even the birds up there in the blue cannot
attain to it. 1t is only human state