'
Exquisite motion! more maddening than the smooth floating stride of
the race-horse, or the crash of the thorn-hedges before the stalwart
hunter, or the swaying of the fir-boughs in the gale, when we used to
climb as schoolboys after the lofty hawk's nest; but not so maddening
as the new motion of our age--the rush of the express-train, when the
live iron pants and leaps and roars through the long chalk cutting;
and white mounds gleam cold a moment against the sky and vanish; and
rocks, and grass, and bushes, fleet by in dim blended lines; and the
long hedges revolve like the spokes of a gigantic wheel; and far
below, meadows, and streams, and homesteads, with all their lazy old-
world life, open for an instant, and then flee away; while awe-
struck, silent, choked with the mingled sense of pride and
helplessness, we are swept on by that great pulse of England's life-
blood, rushing down her iron veins; and dimly out of the future looms
the fulfilment of our primaeval mission, to conquer and subdue the
earth, and space too, and time, and all things,--even, hardest of all
tasks, yourselves, my cunning brothers ever learning some fresh
lesson, except that hardest one of all, that it is the Spirit of God
which giveth you understanding.
Pages:
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295