The peninsula carved by Time out of a single stone, whereon most of the
following scenes are laid, has been for centuries immemorial the home of
a curious and well-nigh distinct people, cherishing strange beliefs
and singular customs, now for the most part obsolescent. Fancies, like
certain soft-wooded plants which cannot bear the silent inland frosts,
but thrive by the sea in the roughest of weather, seem to grow up
naturally here, in particular amongst those natives who have no active
concern in the labours of the 'Isle.' Hence it is a spot apt to generate
a type of personage like the character imperfectly sketched in these
pages--a native of natives--whom some may choose to call a fantast (if
they honour him with their consideration so far), but whom others may
see only as one that gave objective continuity and a name to a delicate
dream which in a vaguer form is more or less common to all men, and is
by no means new to Platonic philosophers.
To those who know the rocky coign of England here depicted--overlooking
the great Channel Highway with all its suggestiveness, and standing out
so far into mid-sea that touches of the Gulf Stream soften the air till
February--it is matter of surprise that the place has not been more
frequently chosen as the retreat of artists and poets in search of
inspiration--for at least a month or two in the year, the tempestuous
rather than the fine seasons by preference. To be sure, one nook therein
is the retreat, at their country's expense, of other geniuses from a
distance; but their presence is hardly discoverable. Yet perhaps it
is as well that the artistic visitors do not come, or no more would be
heard of little freehold houses being bought and sold there for a couple
of hundred pounds--built of solid stone, and dating from the sixteenth
century and earlier, with mullions, copings, and corbels complete. These
transactions, by the way, are carried out and covenanted, or were till
lately, in the parish church, in the face of the congregation, such
being the ancient custom of the Isle.
As for the story itself, it may be worth while to remark that, differing
from all or most others of the series in that the interest aimed at
is of an ideal or subjective nature, and frankly imaginative,
verisimilitude in the sequence of events has been subordinated to the
said aim.
The first publication of this tale in an independent form was in 1897;
but it had appeared in the periodical press in 1892, under the title of
'The Pursuit of the Well-Beloved.' A few chapters of that experimental
issue were rewritten for the present and final form of the narrative.
T. H. August 1912.