It silenced her. She had come
to see it at the critical time of her life and in the right mood. The
superficialities of the world shrunk to their proper insignificance. Once
she asked her aunt: "Why did not Glenn bring me here?" As if this Canyon
proved the nature of all things!
But in the end Carley found that the rending strife of the transformation
of her attitude toward life had insensibly ceased. It had ceased during the
long watching of this cataclysm of nature, this canyon of gold-banded
black-fringed ramparts, and red-walled mountains which sloped down to be
lost in purple depths. That was final proof of the strength of nature to
soothe, to clarify, to stabilize the tried and weary and upward-gazing
soul. Stronger than the recorded deeds of saints, stronger than the
eloquence of the gifted uplifters of men, stronger than any words ever
written, was the grand, brooding, sculptured aspect of nature. And it must
have been so because thousands of years before the age of saints or
preachers--before the fret and symbol and figure were cut in stone--man must
have watched with thought-developing sight the wonders of the earth, the
monuments of time, the glooming of the dark-blue sea, the handiwork of God.
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