ogies and literatures have grown. How 

 profound and all-embracing is the silence, 

 and yet how full of inarticulate sound ! 

 The faint whisperings of the leaves touch 

 me first with a sense of melody, and then, 

 later, with a sense of mystery. These are 

 the most venerable voices to which men 

 have ever listened; and when 1 think of 

 the immeasurable life that seems to be 

 groping for utterance in them, I remember 

 with no consciousness of scepticism that 

 these are the voices which men once waited 

 upon as oracles ; nay, rather, wait upon 

 still; for am I not now listening for the 

 word which shall speak to me out of these 

 shadowy depths and this mysterious an- 

 tique life? I am ready to listen and to 

 follow if only these vagrant sounds shall 

 blend into one clear note and declare to me 

 that secret which they have kept so well 

 through the centuries. I wait expectant, 

 as I have waited so often before ; there is 

 unbroken stillness, then a faint murmur 

 slowly rising and spreading until I am sure 

 that the moment of revelation has come, 

 93 



