zed within--an unconscious
thought. By looking at this blue hill line this dormant power within
the mind becomes partly visible; the heart wakes up to it.

The intense feeling caused by the sunshine, by the sky, by the
flowers and distant sea is an increased consciousness of our own
life. The stream of light--the rush of sweet wind--excites a deeper
knowledge of the soul. An unutterable desire at once arises for more
of this; let us receive more of the inner soul life which seeks and
sighs for purest beauty. But the word beauty is poor to convey the
feelings intended. Give us the thoughts which correspond with the
feeling called up by the sky, the sea afar, and the flower at hand.
Let us really be in ourselves the sunbeam which we use as an
illustration. The recognition of its loveliness, and of the
delicious air, is really a refined form of prayer--the purer because
it is not associated with any object, because of its width and
openness. It is not prayer in the sense of a benefit desired, it is
a feeling of rising to a nobler existence.

It does not include wishes connected with routine and labour. Nor
does it depend on the brilliant sun--this mere clod of earth will
cause it, even a little crumble of mould. The commonest form of
matter thus regarded excites the highest form of spirit. The
feelings may be received from the least morsel of brown earth
adhering to the surface of the skin on the hand that has touched the
ground. Inhaling this deep feeling, the soul, perforce, must
pray--a rude imperfect word to express the aspiration--with every
glimpse of sunlight, whether it come in a room amid routine, or in
the solitude of the hills; with every flower, and grass-blade, and
the vast earth underfoot; with the gleam on the distant sea, with
the song of the lark on high, and the thrush lowly in the hawthorn.

From the blue hill lines, from the dark copses on the ridges, the
shadows in the combes, from the apple-sweet wind and rising grasses,
from the leaf issuing out of the bud to question the sun--there
comes from all of these an influence which forces the heart to lift
itself in earnest and purest desire.

The soul knows itself, and would live its own life.

THE SUN AND THE BROOK

The sun first sees the brook in the meadow where some roach swim
under a bulging root of ash. Leaning against the tree, and looking
down into the water, there is a picture of the sky. Its brightness
hides the sandy floor of the