The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-07-26
A VACATION lDYL
DONE INTO PROSE. BY MEMO.


To the man in whom the artihcialities
of our common life have become 50 com
pletely a second nature that a game OF
progressive euchre or the senuous air Of
a ball room has more charms than an
hours ramble by the restless waves-to
such a one Slaughter Beach holds out no
inducements. But to him in whom still
courses the good, red blood of knsh!p
to nature, this little beach gives refresh
ment and inspiration.
| BY day the clouds play shadow dances
over the great sheet of Delaware bay and
along the glorious curve Of the shore
| from Sand Point to 1.-THE Cedars" and
beyond. The green of the sparse grasses
and the light brown of the sands stretch
on and en- until they are blent into one
| low. indefinitely tinted outline mat shades
| off gradually into the moving waters
ever-colored, as they are, with the kali
| edescopic possibilities OF varying SHADES
| of green and gray and blue.
As the day draws to its close, the eyes
are raised TO the sunset glores of the
| silent skies Upward and downward we
| look; those masses of color that so stately
! glide. rejecting back the rays OF the dear
sun, Of this great world both eye and
soul"
Are of the restless ocean itself, throb-
bling uneasily at our feet Transmitted
| and g.orihed, the ocean below decks the
heavens above; just as the advancing ana
| receding, never motionless mass or our
| common humanity gives Of its own sub
stance and gladly that the perfected ones
may shine down upon it some of the
| glory of which the whole mass IS capable.
At night, without tree or house to break
the outlook, and freed from all incongru-
Gus sound to mar the vocal silence OF the
stars singing in their courses, there
bursts upon the vision of the eastward
gazer, a wondrous view of the prod. galty
of creative effort in stellar space. IN the
presence of those thickly studded points
of light, electrically bright, that have
swung and glided, circled and guided for
ages before our puny advent, the soul by
the scene made to supernal thought re-
ceptiVe, sinks into abject humility at the
appalling sense of its insignihcance, then
rises to trimumphant HUMILITY at the pow
er within IL TO hear and understand the
voice of God.
And when at last the soul has taken a
surfeit Of the beauties that sift through
its windows, and the eyes grow heavy
with sleep, the last conscious impression
through the closing easements OF intelli-
gence is given by the kindly CLEAN of the
Vigil-keeping stars shining in through "A
four-suqare frame; the last sound, the
gently swelling and receding sibilant mon
otone of the ripples, mingled with the love-
dull grating roar of the angry waves
dashed into fury by the spirit of the storm
as it whistles and srieks; the last feeling
the peace that the noisy city can neither
give nor ever fully take away; the last
thought, thankfulness
Then when the curtains of the night are
slowly and silently drawn aside and the
light of a new day shines through upon
glide back into consciousness. The faint
aroma Of the wet sands and of the salty
seaweed gratihes the nostrils; the nOur-
iShment Tor the body is surrendered from
the plenteous stores of the sea; the ear
yields itself once more to the somnoent
sounds of the night continued on with the
day, but now occasionally broken by the
voices of the cottagers; the appreciatiVe
eye sweeps with fun and lingering glance
around the noble spread OF the watery
horizon, or turns to rest for a Few &C.
static moments upon the intense greenery
of the marsh fringed by the distant woods,
dimly outlined at one moment through
bridal-veil of mist, at another darkly sill
bouetted against a sky of metallic clear
ness; feeling is swallowed up in thought,
and that thought is a supreme appreca-
ton of the power of nature to uplift the
soul that IT not case-hardened against its
divine impressiveness.
Here he who doeth wHely, doeth little;
and he who doeth much, doeth i'll. 1t is
an eight-cottaged oasis of Incidence in a
world that too frequently seems TO us an
arid, diappointing, unproductiVe desert of
grape are yielded only under the strain and
stress of the wine-press, so this spot sa
cred to revivifying idleness gives up full
ly Of its treasures only to the one who
wrenches it all toward himself with the
strength of a desperation born from a
consciousness of burden and pressure, toll
and exhaustion. The steady idler with no
plans, and the vigorous worker with many
would find the hours unutterably burden
some, because UNMARRIED with the gaudy
display and hollow amusements of a fash
ionable Watering-place Y ct time does not
hang heavily here. The hours run swift
~ by though spent in absolute inaction, or
given to the enjoyment of the few amuse-
ments that the sea itself furnishes.
The days of a brief vacation are rap
idly passing into the catalogue of pleas
ures that have been and are no more. The
wish to hinder their nimble feet with lead
ed hobbies is as strong as it is vain. Yet
who would deny himself the value of such
a restful experience, just because it may
not continue Away? Sleep is given for re-
freshment: everlasting sleep is tanta-
mount to death. Positive cessation from
active effort is wholesome only when 1t is
brief.
Forth from the inspiration that comes
from the attrition Of kindred minds forth
from the impulses for good that cluster
close around friendship, forth from ma
lures own temple, sanctifed TO heavenly
rest, the feet move on. With frightened
eye and invigorated step the marching
order burdens of life are carried on the
shoulders once more, and the hands take
stronger, tighter grasp than ever upon
the weapons of our warfare.
Slaughter Beach, Del.
The HumOrists View.
T-r1v, 49, rr;,,1...