("In Nature's grandest shows," says an old Dutch
writer, an ecclesiastic, "amid the ocean's depth, if so might be, or
countless worlds rolling above at night, a man thinks of them, weighs
all, not for themselves or the abstract, but with reference to his own
personality, and how they may affect him or color his destinies.")
NEW SENSES: NEW JOYS
We follow the stream of amber and bronze brawling along its bed,
with its frequent cascades and snow-white foam. Through the canon we
fly--mountains not only each side, but seemingly, till we get near,
right in front of us--every rood a new view flashing, and each flash
defying description--on the almost perpendicular sides, clinging
pines, cedars, spruces, crimson sumach bushes, spots of wild
grass--but dominating all, those towering rocks, rocks, rocks, bathed
in delicate vari-colors, with the clear sky of autumn overhead. New
senses, new joys, seem develop'd. Talk as you like, a typical Rocky
Mountain canon, or a limitless sea-like stretch of the great Kansas
or Colorado plains, under favoring circumstances, tallies,
perhaps expresses, certainly awakes, those grandest and subtlest
element-emotions in the human soul, that all the marble temples
and sculptures from Phidias to Thorwaldsen--all paintings, poems,
reminiscences, or even music, probably never can.
STEAM-POWER, TELEGRAPHS, ETC
I get out on a ten minutes' stoppage at Deer creek, to enjoy the
unequal'd combination of hill, stone and wood.
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