NATURE FOR ITS OWN SAKE 
Lake 
sentiment. 
Moonlight 
on the lake. 
dola-posts in the ever-agitated Grand Canal is 
matter of common observation. 
In its reflections, shadows, lights, colors, 
forms, there is nothing in nature superior to 
the clear mountain-lake. It has no sentiment, 
no feeling whatever, though we often speak of 
it as though it had; but there is no limit to the 
emotion it can arouse in the breast of humanity. 
I am not privileged to speak of this at any 
length, for I have set myself the task of writing 
about nature as it is, rather than about the 
romance it can create; yet, no one can be in- 
sensible to that romance. The splendor of early 
morning on the lake, the fresh breeze, the waves 
dashed back by the bow of the canoe, the glit- 
ter of myriad points of sunlight, the blue sky, 
the voyaging clouds, the sentinel mountains 
that stand like giants around the httle basin, 
are all productive of impulsive feeling. Nor can 
anyone be quite indifferent to the silence of those 
mountains at night, the slow rock of the lake 
waters, the shimmer of the stars, and the moon- 
light weaving a pathway of splendor from shore 
to shore. Beautiful in themselves, and for 
themselves, these features are not the less po- 
tent in awakening thoughts of beauty in the 
mind of man. 
