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235
The Private Papers of Henry Ryecroft
·
George Gissing
56
XX.
It
has
occurred
to
me
that
one
might
define
Art
as:
an
expression,
satisfying
and
abiding,
of
the
zest
of
life.
This
is
applicable
to
every
form
of
Art
devised
by
man,
for,
in
his
creative
moment,
whether
he
produce
a
great
drama
or
carve
a
piece
of
foliage
in
wood,
the
artist
is
moved
and
inspired
by
supreme
enjoyment
of
some
aspect
of
the
world
about
him;
an
enjoyment
in
itself
keener
than
that
experienced
by
another
man,
and
intensified,
prolonged,
by
the
power--which
comes
to
him
we
know
not
how--of
recording
in
visible
or
audible
form
that
emotion
of
rare
vitality.
Art,
in
some
degree,
is
within
the
scope
of
every
human
being,
were
he
but
the
ploughman
who
utters
a
few
would-be
melodious
notes,
the
mere
outcome
of
health
and
strength,
in
the
field
at
sunrise;
he
sings,
or
tries
to,
prompted
by
an
unusual
gusto
in
being,
and
the
rude
stave
is
all
his
own.
Another
was
he,
who
also
at
the
plough,
sang
of
the
daisy,
of
the
field-mouse,
or
shaped
the
rhythmic
tale
of
Tam
o'
Shanter.
Not
only
had
life
a
zest
for
him
incalculably
stronger
and
subtler
than
that
which
stirs
the
soul
of
Hodge,
but
he
uttered
it
in
word
and
music
such
as
go
to
the
heart
of
mankind,
and
hold
a
magic
power
for
ages.
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