Love and loyalty within; noble
friends at the hearthstone; soft or shining heavens above; mystery of
forest and music of stream without: this is home in Arden.
VIII
. . . books in the running brooks.
In the days before we went to Arden, Rosalind and I had often wondered
what books we should find there, and we had anticipated with the
keenest curiosity that in the mere presence or absence of certain books
we should discover at last the final principle of criticism, the
absolute standard of literary art. Many a time as we sat before the
study fire and finished the reading of some volume that had yielded us
unmixed delight, we had said to each other that we should surely find
it in Arden, and read it again in an atmosphere in which the most
delicate and beautiful meanings would become as clear as the exquisite
tracery of frost on the study windows. That we should find all the
classics there we had not the least doubt; who could imagine a
community of intelligent persons without Homer and Dante and
Shakespeare and Wordsworth! How the volumes would be housed we did not
try to divine; but that we should find them there we did not think of
doubting. Our chief thought was of the principle of selection, long
sought after by lovers of books but never yet found, which we were
certain would be easily discovered when we came to look along the
shelves of the libraries in Arden.
Pages:
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153