Your very
solitude seems to impress you with the belief that, though hidden from
the world, you are more distinctly visible, and more individually an
object of Divine protection, than any worthless atom like yourself
ever could be in the midst of a multitude--a mere unit of millions.
Yes, you are free to come, to go, to stay; your home is co-extensive
with the wild woods. Perhaps it is better for a solitary retreat than
a permanent home; still it forms a part of what I call the country.
"At Country Harbour we had a sample of the simple, plain, natural,
unpretending way in which neighbours meet of an evening in the rural
districts. But look at that house in the town, where we saw the family
assembled at breakfast this morning, and see what is going on there
to-night. It is the last party of the season. The family leave the
city in a week for the country. What a delightful change from the
heated air of a town-house, to the quiet retreat of an hotel at a
watering-place, where there are only six hundred people collected. It
is positively the very last party, and would have been given weeks
ago, but everybody was engaged for so long a time a-head, there was no
getting the fashionable folks to come. It is a charming ball. The old
ladies are fully dressed, only they are so squeezed against the walls,
their diamonds and pearls are hid. And the young ladies are so lightly
dressed, they look lovely.
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