The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1892-04-10


have opened his ears, eyes and his soul to
their healing influences. The woods. vocal
with the happy calls of its feathered ten
sntry and glowing with the bright faces
of its flowers, always seem to dispense the
busy. meddling fiends of care and trouble
from the cankered heart of man. The
strongest natures feel something of this
gypsy joy which makes us ramble in the
woods or wander by the brookside.
Whether we are in search of healing
influences for nerves and digestion,
or solace for wounded spirit. or
sagacious preparation against the unrest
and unhappiness of unoccupied, listless
early imbibed love for wood. field and
stream, for all the lovely sights and sounds
ineligible with which nature has filled
earth, air, sky and sea; the pleasant
waters; the noble mountains; the evening
glory Of the setting sun; the splendor of
the moon that "o'er the clouded breast of
night sails like meteor kindling in its
fight
Stanton, Lincoln's great war secretary,
great lawyer, great administrator and
executive, an intensely practical man, once
said: "All light and all color that make
life beautiful is the affair of little nerve
God has endowed us with to enjoy his
precious gifts that, after all, live only in
our brain. The highest religion, if not
the only religion, is in true appreciation
of Gods works. Thus we work our way
through nature to natures God"
Daniel Webster felt this same reverence
for the power and benevolence of God as
exhibited in the beauty and grandeur of
nature. Webster enjoyed a good din
ner and a glass of wine, but he
had soul enough. in spite of his
constitutional Incidence of body and
mind, to leave his bed in time to view the
falls of Montmorency at sunrise, while
Grover Cleveland would have felt more
satisfaction in capturing tarpon on the
coast of Florida or a big sea bass in Long
Island sound, or in winning a rubber at
whist than he would at the sight of a sun
rise at Montmorency or of the rainbow
stretched by Gods hand above the mist of
Niagara.
This early acquired relish for the infinite
variety of outdoor nature leaves us only
when death seals up our sight. The
waters witch the eve and the wild flowers
are as welcome as they march in annual
procession from March till October, just
as they did when we were happy children
and searched for them every spring,
L = ~ l.
and sweeter blossoms than we brought
home to deck her who was our cradles
light. The vandal squatter may slash
down recklessly our woods and
skin our streams, but he cannot steal the
sunshine nor extinguish the stars; he can
purple mist of evening glory that wraps
the lower hills; he cannot make natures
hues die out before their time, and since
he cannot there win always be unchang-
ing and changeless joys for the eye and
ear of the poorest man, who has grown
old cultivating a taste for quiet outdoor
recreation. that soothes and sweetens the
spirit. rather than for the feverish, artifi-
cial pleasures of frivolous, fashionable
life
The great painter of fruits and flowers
knows his business and he has shown US
how to grow old graciously in the regal,
outdoor life and lingering loneliness in
death of his trees and flowers. The
winter is over; the spring is come. and
yet she comes thus far so coyly and so
coldly that these words of the sweet
Irish singer are on every lip:
All! my heart is weary waiting
Waiting for the May
Waiting Tor the pleasant rambles,
Where the fragrant hawthorn bramblss
With the woodblne alternating,
Scent the dewy way,
All my heart is weary waiting,
Waiting for the May.