[Footnote:
English Note-Books (May, 1856).] I have already mentioned his fondness
for cats. It has further been said that he did not enjoy wild nature,
because in the "English Note-Books" there is no outgushing of ecstatic
description. But in fact he had the keenest enjoyment of it. He could
not enter into the spectacle when hurrying through strange regions.
Among the English lakes he writes:--
"To say the truth, I was weary of fine scenery, and it seemed to me
that I had eaten a score of mountains and quaffed as many lakes, all in
the space of two or three days, and the natural consequence was a
surfeit.
"I doubt if anybody ever does really see a mountain, who goes for the
set and sole purpose of seeing it. Nature will not let herself be seen
in such cases. You must patiently bide her time; and by and by, at some
unforeseen moment, she will quietly and suddenly unveil herself and for
a brief space allow you to look right into the heart of her mystery. But
if you call out to her peremptorily, 'Nature! unveil yourself this very
moment!' she only draws her veil the closer; and you may look with all
your eyes, and imagine that you see all that she can show, and yet see
nothing."
But this was because his sensibility was so great that he drew from
little things a larger pleasure than many feel when excited by grand
ones; and knowing this deeper phase, he could not be content with the
hasty admiration on which tourists flatter themselves. The beauty of a
scene which he could absorb in peace was never lost upon him.
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