ly under the moonlight that
is poured into the channel before me, and then are forced forward into the
darkness of the future. But every wave seems as full of joy as though for
it alone was the moonlight sent, and as though there were not unnumbered
millions of waves to succeed it. Every little wave leaps up as it comes
under the light, and smiles toward the round-faced orb above, who seems to
smile back upon it. Thou small thing, thou art a fool! The queen, in the
beam of whose countenance thou disportest thyself, is altogether deceitful
and loves thee not. She has smiled as kindly on thousands who have gone
before thee, and will upon thousands who shall come after thee. And more
than all, she would send down just as bright and loving a glance, if thou
and all thy race had never existed. How then canst thou say, 'I love her,'
or, 'she loves me?'

But perhaps it is not so. When I look again, each one of the great
multitude appears aware of its own insignificance. Jostled, confined,
crowded and confused, they go tumbling by, regardless of all above or
below, and engrossed with their own fleeting existence. Not remembering
whence they came, they take no thought of the present, and are utterly
careless of the future. For what would it profit? Their business, and it
is business enough, is to dispute and fight with each other for room to
move in. All thoughts as to whither they are hastening, must be doubtful,
angry and despairing; and care of any thing present, except what concerns
the present instant, would be useless. Therefore they resign themselves to
be drawn onward and downward unresistingly; and therein are they wise. But
whether joyful, or despairing, or not feeling at all, the waters roll by,
an unceasing flood; and with their rushing dull roar in my ear, my eye
rests on a scene of beauty and quietness. Far away to the northward and
westward, and still farther away, stretches an immense plain. Rolling
hillocks, like the waves of the sea after a storm, and at long intervals,
a few stunted shrubs, alone diversify the prospect. Vast, unmeasured,
Nature's unenclosed meadow, the prairie, is spread out! The tall grass
waves gently and rustlingly to the breeze; and down upon it settles the
moonlight, in a dim silver-gossamer veil, like that which to the mind's
eye is thrown over the mountains and ruins and castles of the Old World,
by the high-born daring and graces of chivalry, the wand of Genius, and
the lapse of solemn