ith these mighty mountains is not the impression made
upon him. He is not overawed and overcome by them. His soul goes
out most lovingly to them because they have aroused in him all the
greatness in his soul, and purified it--even if only for a time--of all
its dross and despicableness. And he loves them for that. He does
not go cringing along, feeling himself a worm in comparison with
them. There is warm kinship between him and them. He knows what
is in their soul. And they have aroused in his soul exactly what he
rejoices in having aroused there, and which but for them might have
remained for ever unsurmised. So he revels in their Beauty.

* * *

Another aspect in which we may see Kinchinjunga is in its aspect at
dawn. It will be still night--a starlit night. The phantom snowy range
and the fairy forms of the mountains will be bathed in that delicate
yellow light the stars give forth. The far valley depths will be hidden
in the sombrest purple. Overhead the sky will be glittering with
brilliant gems set in a field of limpid sapphire. The hush of night
will be over all--the hush which heralds some great and splendid
pageant.

Then, almost before we have realised it, the eastward-facing scarps
of the highest peaks are struck with rays of mingled rose and gold,
and gleam like heavenly realms set high above the still
night-enveloped world below. Farther and farther along the line, deep and
deeper down it, the flush extends. The sapphire of the sky slowly
lightens in its hue. The pale yellow of the starlight becomes merged
in the gold of dawn. White billowy mists of most delicate softness
imperceptibly form themselves in the valley depths and float up the
mountain-sides. The deep hum of insect life, the chirping of the
birds, the sounds of men, begin to break the hush of night. The
snows become a delicate pink, the valleys are flooded with purple
light, the sky becomes intensest blue, and the sun at last itself
appears above the mountains, and the ardent life of day vibrates
once more.

In the full glare of day the mountains are not seen at their very best.
The best time of all to see them is in the evening. If we go out a little
from Darjiling into the forest to some secluded spur we can enjoy an
evening of rare felicity. On the edge of the spur the forest is more
open. The ground is covered with grass and flowers and plants with
many-coloured leaves. Rich orchids and tender ferns and pendant
mosses clothe the trees