MODERN SENTIMENTALISTS. ' 69 



punished in the end, for it made us all outrageously 

 sick. We either cooked it too soon (for in twenty 

 minutes from the time the deer fell, a part of her 

 was roasting) ; or we ate it too rare (for we were 

 too hungry to wait till it was perfectly done); or we 

 ate too much (for we were hungry as famished 

 wolves); or probably did all three things together, 

 which quite upset me. 



But after the things {i. e. the chips) were cleared 

 away, I stretched myself on the ground under a tree 

 whose dark trunk shone in the light of the cheerful 

 fire, and began to muse on the day that had passed. 

 How is it that a scene of quiet beauty makes so much 

 deeper an impression than a startling one ? The 

 glorious sunset I had witnessed on that sweet lake — 

 the curving and forest-mantled shores-^-the green 

 islands — the mellow mountains, all combined to make 

 a scene of surpassing loveliness ; and now, as I lay 

 and watched the stars coming out one after another, 

 and twinkling down on me through the tree tops, all 

 that beauty came back on me with strange power. 

 The gloomy gorge and savage precipice, or the sud- 

 den storm, seem to excite the surface only of one's 

 feelings, while the sweet vale, with its cottages and 

 herds and evening bells, blends itself with our very 

 thoughts and emotions, forming a part of our after 

 existence. Such a scene sinks away into the heart 

 like a gentle rain into the earth, while a rougher, 

 nay, sublimer one, comes and goes like a sudden 

 shower. I do not know how it is that the gentler 

 influence should be the deeper and more lasting, but 

 7* 



