When the sun rose the next morning, we rose with it, eager to explore
our little world about which the sea never ceased to sing its mighty
hymn of solitude and mystery. There was something impressive in the
consciousness of our isolation; between us and any noise of human
occupation the waters were stretched as a barrier against which all
sound died into silence. There was something enchanting in the beauty
and strangeness of this tiny continent, unreported by any geography,
unmarked on any chart save that which a few possess as a kind of sacred
heritage, untravelled as yet by our eager feet. There was something
thrilling in the associations that touched the island with such a light
as never fell from sun or star. With beating hearts we set out on that
wondrous exploration. Who does not remember the thrill of the first
discovery of a new world; that joy of the soul in possession of a great
new truth which passes all speech? There are hours in this troubled
life when the mists are lifted and float away like faint clouds against
the blue, and the great world lies like a splendid vision before us,
and "the immeasurable heavens break open to the highest," and in a
sudden rift of human limitation the whole sublime order opens before
us, sings to us out of the fathomless depths of its harmony, thrills us
with a sudden sense of God and of the undiscovered range and splendour
of our lives; and when they have passed, these hours remain with us in
the afterglow of clearer vision and deeper faith.
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