SEQUESTERED GLENS 19 



Overhanging it are weeping palms with long 

 straight leaves. Trees, with erect stems as tall as 

 Nelson's Column, strain upward to the light. But- 

 terflies in numbers flutter noiselessly about. The 

 air is absolutely still and of a feel like satin. Clouds 

 of intangible softness and clean and white as 

 snow float around, appear, dissolve, and reappear. 

 Through the parting in the overhanging trees the 

 intense blue sky is seen in glimpses. The sun here 

 and there pierces through the arching foliage, and 

 the greens of the foliage glisten brighter still. 

 The whole atmosphere of the spot is one of reticence 

 and reserve. Yet quiet though it be and restful 

 though it be, there is no sense of stagnation. The 

 pool, though deep and still, is vividly alive. Its 

 waters are continually being renewed. And the 

 forest, though not a leaf moves, is, we know, strain- 

 ing with all the energy of life for food and light, for 

 air and moisture. So by this jewel of a pool in its 

 verdant setting we have a sense of an activity which 

 is gentle and refined. The glen's is a shy and in- 

 timate Beauty, especially congenial to us after the 

 forceful Beauty of the river and the bold, proud 

 Beauty of the cliffs. But it is no insipid Beauty : 

 in its very quietness and confidence is strength. 



