44 
EVER THE SAME 
Wi 
itself to the soul, and invites it to grow strong; 
to search out and seek within its own nature what¬ 
ever it possesses of the inscrutable. Do not linger too 
long over its fantastic accidents. Without it says, 
“ As You Like It;” within , “ Ever and for ever.” 
Its beauty is that of the profound, faithful, and 
tender heart, which does not the less vary its exquisite 
grace, though it may daily repeat the words of Charles 
d’Orleans : 
“ Who can ever weary of her? 
Still her beauty she renews. ” 
These ideas occurred to me one day as, seated upon 
Mont Ussy, I looked across Fontainebleau. I compre¬ 
hended how, in this confined and ordinary region—in 
this apparent chaos of rocks, and trees, and sandstone— 
prevailed a tolerable degree of order, which necessarily 
concealed within it a mystery not obvious at the first 
glance. 
As a whole, it is almost a circle of hills and forests, 
all dry on the surface; but the sandstone is very per¬ 
vious, and the sand filtrates with great facility. And 
the unseen waters descend in all directions to a great 
reservoir which occupies the depths. 
Storms are frequent here, but do not spread very 
far. We may nearly always expect them, for the forest 
detains and arrests them, preserves for itself the wealth 
of suspended waters, transmitting them to the lower 
grounds after they have been sifted through the leaves, 
the woods, and the sands. All this occurs below, without the process 
ever becoming visible. 
