_Saturday._--Have just been reading in _Temple Bar_ an article on the
influence of sunshine on SHELLEY, BYRON, KEATS, MOORE, SOUTHEY, and
other poets. Never thought of that before. There is so little sunshine
in London, and when there is one never sits out in it. That is why
all the magazines reject my sonnets, and why no one will publish my
tragedy in blank verse. Sunshine! Right on the top of one's bare head.
That is the cure. The reason is obvious--Ph[oe]bus Apollo, the Divine
Afflatus, and all that sort of thing. Must go somewhere into the
sunshine at once. Brighton is near, Brighton is shadeless, Brighton
under the June sunshine is hot. The very place. Shall now at last
electrify the world. Go down by an evening train. Somewhat crowded.
Whitsuntide, of course.
_Sunday._--Glorious morning. Blaze of sunshine. Brighton is not an
inspiring place for a poet. Walk along asphalted parade. Extremely
hot. But that is just what I want. Still SHELLEY and the others did
not advocate softened asphalte, to which one's boots almost stick.
The beach is the right place. Lie down on the dusty shingle above
high water mark, take off my hat, and abandon myself to the Divine
Afflatus. Wait patiently for inspiration. Can only think how hot it
is. Wonder if the Divine Afflatus could get through my hat. Put on
my hat. Still no inspiration. Take my hat off again. Begin to become
insensible in the warmth. Suddenly feel on the back of my head a
sensation as of something striking me. Can it be the inspiration? No,
it was a pebble. Jump up. Boys behind, aimlessly throwing stones, have
hit me. Sudden inspiration to rush after them with uplifted stick.
Sudden flight of boys. Pursue them over uneven shingle. Wonder if
SHELLEY and the others ever did that. At last stop, breathless, hotter
than ever. Find, with difficulty, another unoccupied space on beach,
and lie down again. Become quite drowsy. Suddenly wake up. Must have
been asleep for a long time. Sun going down. No inspiration yet, and
no chance of Divine Afflatus to-day. Must wait till to-morrow. Head
aching very much. Wonder if SHELLEY and the others had headaches when
the D. A. was coming on. Consult _Temple Bar_. Apparently not. Very
strange.
_Monday._--Again blazing sunshine. Hotter than ever. This must bring
on the D. A. if anything would. Again lie on beach. More crowded than
yesterday. Some of the people seem friendly, and to be interested in
my experiment, for they address me and advise me to get my hair cut.
Could this possibly be advantageous to admit the D. A.? No. SHELLEY
and the others wore their hair like mine, not cropped like a
convict's. Tell this to my new friends. They laugh. I become angry.
Then they tell me to keep my hair on. Curious instance of the
vacillation of popular opinion. They go away singing. Pain in my head
and sleepiness still worse. Can no longer keep awake. Abandon myself
to D. A. Am suddenly aroused by someone shaking my arm. Open my eyes.
Can hardly see anything. Awful pain in head. Shut my eyes again. My
arm again shaken roughly. A voice says, "Now then, get up." Endeavour
to lift my head but cannot. Never felt so ill before. Murmur feebly,
"I can't. It's the D. A. coming on." Voice answers, "D. T. yer mean.
None o' your gammon. You come along o' me." Begin now to understand
that it is not Ph[oe]bus Apollo who is standing by me in a vision.
It is not even a beautiful woman, as in SHELLEY'S _Alastor_. It is
a policeman. Must find precedent for this. Somehow my voice seems
changed and uncertain, but I manage to murmur, "_Temple Bar_." "Oh
yes," says the policeman, "you've been enough in the bar. Now yer can
try the dock. Come along." He endeavours to raise me, but I again fall
insensible.
_Wednesday._--Remember dimly the horrible events of the last
thirty-six hours. I was taken to the police-station, and brought
before the magistrate. He would not even look at _Temple Bar_, and
fined me for being drunk and incapable. I drunk and incapable! Oh
heavens! To-day I am back in London. The sky is cloudy. No chance of
the D. A. now. Shall give up poetry for ever, and for the future write
words for songs.
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