INSPIRATION

New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume VIII, Issue 1, 1 April 1903, Page 65

INSPIRATION

By Mary J. Mander

" There are times, we v not why, when our hand is out." How well Kipling understood the absence of inspiration when he penned those words, and who can realise their peculiar truth better than those who strive to earn some little sprig of Earth's laurels by means of the pen ? inspiration is a force, subtle and indefinable, a stimulus that bids us work, that compels us to work, that comes unsought for, and leaves us as helpless as it finds us.

it is true that we may so train our minds to regular occupation that we can sit down at, stated hours and turn out good work, but be that as it may, there are times when, apart from health or effort, we are carried in spite of ourselves high above., our usual plane of thought, and our brains feast upon the mental ozone of an uoper and rarer air. Under the influence of this peculiar force thoughts come unbidden, also the language with which to clothe them, and further, we gain a keener insight into the beauties of the mental world.

Insoiration is as erratic and unreasonable a state of mind as the dreaming which haunts our hours of sleep. Jt comes to us in times of great physical weariness, and the tired body is taxed anew to cope with the increased activity of mind; in the crux of sorrow it may shine upon our intelligence and pale for a time the power of grief ; in the crises of life it comes as « flash, we do its bidding 1 mechanically, and try to realise afterwards how we stood the strain.

And what a little thing may touch the " secret springs of action \" A bar of music may rouse us, or the sight of a face that bears marks of grappling with the problems of life ; a strong voice in the darkness, or a child's sweet smile ; the cry of a ni.qht bird, the tinkle of

a distant bullock bell, the siirht of the sea, or the moaning of a winter wind. Our responsiveness is immediate, we settle as by instinct to >ur work, and under such moments of mental pressure some of the grandest music, some of the finest works of art, and some of the noblest thoughts have been given to the world. Inspiration thus leads to inspiration by producing in other minds that which has been the cau^e of its own expression in lasting form.

Many of us have been roused from a lethargy of brain by a single t-en-tence or a stray verse, which have themselves been the outcome of inspiration.

They stand out from a page, we could put our finger on them in the dark, and the mind returns to them for days afterwards. Recently two in particular arrested the writer's attention, and are worth quotation. The following sentence appeared in the British Weekly in a description of Lord Rosebery's mother : —

" And somewhere in the heart of this great lady there lurked all the gypsy's longing., for the wind on the heath, strange stars, solitude and the open road/ This is a simple sentence but the latter part calls up associations that are part of one's creed. The following exquisite little poem by Juliet Wilbur Tompkins appeared in a recent number of Munsey's Magazine, and was entitled " For k\\ These." " I thank Thee Lord that I am straight and strong, With wit to work and hope to keep me brave ; That two score years unfathoraed, still belong To the allotted life Thy bounty gave. "I thank Thee that the sight of sunlight lands And dipping hills, the breath of evening grass, That wet dark rocks, and flowers in my hands Can give me daily gladness as I pass.

; ' I thank Thee that I love the things of earth, Ripe fruits and laughter, lying down to sleep, The shine of lighted towns, the graver worth Of beating human hearts that laugh and weep. " I thank Thee that as yet I need not know, Yet need not fear, the mystery of the end ; But more than all, and though all these should go — Dear Lord, this on my knees ! — I thank Thee for my friend." This is distinctly good. We might quote many lines which have called forth instant response in ourselves, and have led to us being braced up for a good spell of work, but apart from the written expression of ideas, we may obtain inspiration from the ever changing phases of nature. Who has not tried a walk as a refresher ? There is no better cure sometimes tor stagnating brains. Jf one can reach a hill-top, so much the better. Nature's heights are good for the soul. If no hill is within convenient distance, try a valley and look upwards. A solitary tree on the sky-line may suggest a thought that will open up a whole train of ideas, for though inspirations do not originate in conscio us effort, still we need not sit down with folded hands to wait for them. On the contrary the harder we strive to do good work, the finer do our perceptions become, and the oftener we put ourselves in the way of receiving impressions, the more readily will we be influenced by them. We must cultivate the capacity for receptivity. Hardening processes of any kind are fatal to the writer who would succeed, and there is no finer soother than the touch of Nature. In this beautiful Colony of ours with its easy transit to spots of solitude, and beauty no one need lack mental food or the sources of inspiration. There may be a few who are handicapped to such an extent that they are sliut off from

these means, but their lives cannot be so warped as not to come in oontact with the human element which alone has been the sole support of many a genius. Inspiration is not confined to any particular line of life, it will come to all who have the capacity for opening out and letting themselves go. Unfortunately inspiration has its cupboard skeleton, as many writers and others know to their cost. A time of mental elevation is only too often followed by a period of absolute reaction,

when the brain refuses to be coerced or cajoled into a workable state. A certain bent of mind may preserve a mean between these two extremes, but others who are subject to flashes of brilliancy have; to suffer a consequent diminution of animation. It is a sad fact that many of the most gifted minds have suffered the most keenly from these absences of inspiration, when, without any apparent cause, the hand of the would-be worker has been out.