Give me a sentence which no intelligence can understand. There
must be a kind of life and palpitation to it, and under its words
a kind of blood must circulate forever. It is wonderful that
this sound should have come down to us from so far, when the
voice of man can be heard so little way, and we are not now
within ear-shot of any contemporary. The woodcutters have here
felled an ancient pine forest, and brought to light to these
distant hills a fair lake in the southwest; and now in an instant
it is distinctly shown to these woods as if its image had
travelled hither from eternity. Perhaps these old stumps upon
the knoll remember when anciently this lake gleamed in the
horizon. One wonders if the bare earth itself did not experience
emotion at beholding again so fair a prospect. That fair water
lies there in the sun thus revealed, so much the prouder and
fairer because its beauty needed not to be seen. It seems yet
lonely, sufficient to itself, and superior to observation.--So
are these old sentences like serene lakes in the southwest, at
length revealed to us, which have so long been reflecting our own
sky in their bosom.
Pages:
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235