ON THE HEIGHTS. 77 



scholar must look long for the right hour for Plato s 

 Timseus. At last the elect morning arrives, the 

 early dawn a few lights conspicuous in the heaven, 

 as of a world just created and still becoming and 

 in its wide leisure we dare open that book. There 

 are days when the great are near us, when there is 

 no frown on their brow, no condescension even ; 

 when they take us by the hand, and we share their 

 thought.&quot; When such a morning dawns, one de 

 mands, by right of his own nature, the pilotage of 

 great thoughts to some height whence the whole 

 world will lie before him ; (one knows by unclouded 

 insight that life is greater than all his dreams, and 

 that he is heir, not only of the centuries, but of 

 eternity. ) 



Such days belong to the mountains ; and when I 

 opened my window on this morning, I was in no 

 doubt as to the invitation held forth by earth and 

 sky. There was exhilaration in the very thought 

 of the long climb, and at an early hour I was fast 

 leaving the village behind me. The road skirted 

 the base of the mountain, and struck at once into the 

 heart of the wilderness, which the clustering peaks 

 have preserved from any but the most fleeting asso 

 ciations with the peopled world around. &amp;lt; A barrier 

 of ancient silence and solitude soon separated me 

 eve4n thought from the familiar scenes I had left. 

 A virginal beauty rested upon the road, and sank 

 deep into my own heart as I passed along ; to be 

 silent and open-minded was enough to bring one into 



