speaks to the heart and conscience. There are 

 hints and intimations of something more than 

 eye, or ear, or mere intellect discovers. 



There is hidden, somewhere, in every one of 

 us, the mystic, and to this hidden man, out of 

 the deep mystery, Nature speaks. It may be 

 only when alone amid Nature's vast silences 

 that this hidden man wakes to consciousness. 

 There he touches shoulders with strange 

 things. Some realize this mystical relation- 

 ship with nature most when in touch with na- 

 ture 's gentleness, but each of us is most con- 

 scious of it when most alone with it. 



This is what explains the charm of the gar- 

 den for the dreamer when twilight deepens 

 toward night, and form and color grow less 

 clear to sight, and the sounds of the outside 

 world are stilled. It is then that he knows him- 

 self most near to the great Mystery. It is then 

 that he learns most of its meaning, though only 

 a scent with lightest breath touch him, or he 

 hear no more than the rustle of an overturned 

 leaf. The rose of summer, or the leaf of 



[74] 



