perception of which I speak is a perception which can be fed in the
most familiar scene, in the shortest stroll, even in a momentary
glance from a window. The things to look out for are little
accidents of light and colour, little effects of chance grouping,
the transfiguration of some well-known and even commonplace object,
such as is produced by the sudden burst into greenness of the trees
that peep over some suburban garden wall, or by the sunlight
falling, by a happy fortune, on pool or flower. Much of course
depends upon the inner mood; there are days when it seems
impossible to be thrilled by anything, when a perverse dreariness
holds the mind; and then all of a sudden the gentle and wistful
mood flows back, and the world is full of beauty to the brim.

Here, if anywhere, in this town of ancient colleges, is abundant
material of beauty for eye and mind. It is not, it is true, the
simple beauty of nature; but nature has been invoked to sanctify
and mellow art. These stately stone-fronted buildings have
weathered like crags and precipices. They rise out of dark ancient
embowered gardens. They are like bright birds of the forest
dwelling contentedly in gilded cages. These great palaces of
learning, beautiful when seen in the setting of sunny gardens, and
with even a sterner dignity when planted, like a fortress of quiet,
close to the very dust and din of the street, hold many treasures
of stately loveliness and fair association; this city of palaces,
thick-set with spires and towers, as rich and dim as Camelot, is
invested with a romance that few cities can equal; and then the
waterside pleasaunces with their trim alleys, their air of ancient
security and wealthy seclusion, have an incomparable charm; day by
day, as one hurries or saunters through the streets, the charm
strikes across the mind with an incredible force, a newness of