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Kingsley, Charles, 1819-1875

"Prose Idylls, New and Old"


"Oh that I had wings as a dove, then would I flee away and be at
rest!" Here, lead me away; my body is growing as dizzy as my mind.
I feel coming over me that horrible longing of which I have heard, to
leap out into empty space. How the blank air whispers, "Be free!"
How the broad sea smiles, and calls, with its ten thousand waves, "Be
free!"--As I live, if you do not take me away I shall throw myself
over the cliff.'
I did take him away, for I knew the sensation and its danger well.
It has nothing to do with physical giddiness. Those who are cliff-
bred, and who never were giddy for an instant in their lives, have
often felt themselves impelled to leap from masts, and tree-tops, and
cliffs; and nothing but the most violent effort of will could break
the fascination. I cannot but think, by the bye, that many a
puzzling suicide might be traced to this same emotion acting on a
weak and morbid brain.
We returned to the little landing cove. The red-sailed cutter lay
sleeping below us--'floating double, ship and shadow.' Shoals of
innumerable mackerel broke up, making acres of water foam and sparkle
round their silvery sides, with a soft roar (call it 'a bull' if you
like, it is the only expression for that mysterious sound), while
among them the black head of a huge seal was slowly and silently
appearing and vanishing, as he got his dinner, in a quiet business-
like way, among the unhappy wanderers.


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