kindred and the sweet shelter of our own home: for now do we learn the
infinite riches of the Father; for just as the day changes every hour,
from the morning to the evening twilight, so does the aspect of the
world alter as we progress from day to day; and in all places our
fellow-men, learning as we do from him only, and seeing that which is
nearest, give a special color of nature to their lives and their houses;
and every house, with the family which inhabits it, in their
conversation and the arts in which they excel, is like a round lake set
about with hills, wherein may be seen that visible world. And in all the
earth there is no land without inhabitants, whether on wide continents
or islands of the sea; and in all nature there is no grandeur or beauty
or grace which men have not copied; knowing that this is pleasing to the
Father: for we, that are made like him, delight not to work without
witnesses; and we are his witnesses in the earth, taking pleasure in his
works, even as he also does in ours.

"Thus, at the beginning of our journey to the far south, where we go to
look first on those bright lands, which have hotter suns and a greater
variety than ours, we come to the wilderness of Coradine, which seems
barren and desolate to our sight, accustomed to the deep verdure of
woods and valleys, and the blue mists of an abundant moisture. There a
stony soil brings forth only thorns, and thistles, and sere tufts of
grass; and blustering winds rush over the unsheltered reaches, where the
rough-haired goats huddle for warmth; and there is no melody save the
many-toned voices of the wind and the plover's wild cry. There dwell the
children of Coradine, on the threshold of the wind-vexed wilderness,
where the stupendous columns of green glass uphold the roof of the House
of Coradine; the ocean's voice is in their rooms, and the inland-blowing
wind brings to them the salt spray and yellow sand swept at low tide
from the desolate floors of the sea, and the white-winged bird flying