The Newtown bee., 1899-11-17

her splendid luxuriance, the little hills
rejoice on every side; but all animate
Nature tingles with delight: the robin
I vies with the morning in rising early, and
shakes from his tiny throat merry notes
J to welcome the rosy dawn. The insect
world just huns with joy. The cattle
upon q thousand hills gently low their
morning salutation, Will soft zephyrs
watt happy tinklings through "the in.
cense breathing morn" All day long
the animal World drinks deep of the well
OF life; and when vesper shadows steal
DER hill and dale, when mild darkness
spreads its mantle over all, then Ia heard
their evening lullaby the cricket merrily
chirps, the frog in the pool whistles bis
low note, the whippoorwili sings his
evening song, the nighthawk sounds his
note and frolicks in the sky.
o, the beauty of this world OF ours
Stand near the church at eventide, sur
vey the tranquil scene athwart the west :
In the valley, fertile fields and aff1uent
meadows lie outspread with blossoms
open to receive expectant rain. Farm
houses nestle picturesquely among the
trees, as daisies in green grass. And
from the defiance comes the sound of
rushing brook, scent of fragrant flower,
Whit of new mown hay, as If the We LEY
were eager that sense of eight should not
Guido the sense of hearing and OF smell.
Beyond the valley, clear silhouetted
against the psllng sky, see those adaman-
tine hills, clad in Natures garb of richest
green. Majestic they stand, faithfuIsen-
finals, defying age. When eur first an.
cestors walked the earth, they then were
stored with experiences of by "gone
ages; and, when the last human soul of
earth's teemipg millions shsn wing his
fight to realms above, still shall stand
those hills rejoicing in perennial youth.
But, look beyond, ard see that fu l orbed
sun with slow and dignifled descent
APPROACH TO KISS THE HILLS,
ere he pass from view. See, he touches
them, but cannot tarry. Slowly he sinks
from view, now half in sight, now quar-
ter. Alb, he has gonei Mol as trem-
bling sta r just on the horiz IN, he yet lin
| gers as il ioath to leave scenes so sub.
lime. But now he has gone, though
leaving TRAILING clouds of glory'' in his
path. These, too, soon pass away; but
still faint traces of light hover about the
summit of the hills, ere dense darkness
closes in. Wordsworth's lines on "Old
Age' spring to our lips:
,sThus when the sun prepared for rest
Hath gained the precincts of the west.
Though his departing radiance tail
To nlumtne the hollow vale,
lingering light he fondly throws
Over the dear hills where first he rose."
Now in presence of all this beauty,
men are divided into the two classes al
ressdy mentioned, the Pauls and the anti
Pauls. But we divide the anti-Pauls in.
to ewo elias ses also, for we read in the
frsti account of Paul's conversion, 1.-THE
men which journeyed with him stood
| speechless, hearing voice, but seeing
no man." In the account whence our
| text 10 taken we read land they that
were with me saw indeed the light and
were afraid, but they heard not the voice
the two accounts by assuming that, as in
the case of Christ cited above, among the
followers there were two class
es, those seeing simply the light,
and those who both saw the light and
heard the voice, though they understood
not what they saw or hes I'd. Let us deal
first with that class who see the light
but hear no voice:
These are they who see in Nature no
beauty, at least nothing that really ap-
peals to them. Like animals, they view
the world about them only in the light of
what 1t may yield their appetite; er, like
valleys for the excitement Of hunting
these, too, think OF Nature simply for the
possibilities of its administering to their
enjoyment. A view of Nature purely
esthetic they naver take. They are like
Wordsworth's Peter Bell:
"a primrose by rivers brim
a yellow primrose was to him.
And it was nothing more.
The soft blue sky did never melt
Into his heart; he never felt
The witchery OF the soft blue sky.
Alas there are many Peter Bells in the
world. So intent are they on getting gain
or seeking pleasure that they have no
time for what they term Sentiment
Thus they crush out one OF Gods most
valuable gifts to men,
THAT WHICH MOST DIFFERENTIATEs
THEM
from the brute creation (save the capacity
for moral distinctions) the Beautiful In
| Nature and art. Among these unfOrtu-
nate men we must class so great man
as DarwiA. He writes in q pathetic
strain II once loved music Ionce loved
Shakespeare. Now care not for Emusic,
and reading Shakespeare is dull and
drear to me. / am afraid / have afro
phied my faculties by disuee. III co Id
live my life oyer again, would not
OoACSubIdbc Ivy tnuukub Qu1to 81 muSA On
physical gcience." Yes, strange and aw-
full as may seem, inst as man can blight
q II capacity f0s moral distinctions, so
that he actually cannot tell what is right
and what Ia wrong 80 dull is bis moral
discernmenE, thus man can blast all
esthetical appreciation. Many are doing
it In the mad rush Of modern life; and ID
there any person more unsympathetic.
Yes. more positively frigid, than he
whose soul has lost q love for the Beauti-
full? This atr0phy creaps over his whole
being, and dwarfs all bis faculties. The
capacity for highest enjoyment In life 80
shrlnkas that he Ia almost as incapable 40