es not
suppress and crush the aspiration of Nature; it only serves to compel
the aspiration to refine and perfect itself.

In this spirit of aspiration checked by concentration the Artist will
surely find what is after his own heart. He will recognise that what is
going on in Nature is the same as what goes on in his own heart. He
and Nature have a common aspiration. As he aspires but has to
concentrate, so does Nature aspire but has to concentrate. As he
works, so does Nature work. What he aims at, that also does Nature
aim at. And when the Naturalist within him convinces him that, so
far as forest life reveals it, this is Nature's manner and this is
Nature's end, then his heart goes out to the Heart of Nature, his heart
and her heart become one; and from that community of heart Beauty
unending springs.

He will without reserve or hesitation be able to throw his whole
heart into the enjoyment of Natural Beauty in a way that would have
been utterly impossible if he had had to come to the conclusion that
Nature cared only for the brutally fittest, wholly irrespective of their
worth, or that Nature was at the mercy of chance and had no wish,
intention, or power to make good prevail over ill. And with his
instinctive love of Natural Beauty thus confirmed and strengthened
by this testing of his instinct against what cool reasoning on the facts
revealed by observation in the forest had to say about it, he can with
lightened heart search still further into Nature, and see her in higher,
wider, deeper aspects than the forest alone can disclose.

CHAPTER VI

KINCHINJUNGA

Aspiration is the root sentiment at the Heart of Nature as she
manifests herself in the forest--aspiration upward checked by
concentration upon the inmost centre. And the very emblem of the
aspiration of Nature kept in hand and under control is to be found in
that proud pinnacle of the Sikkim Himalaya, Kinchinjunga, as it is
seen from Darjiling rising from amidst the rich tropical forests
which clothe its base. To Darjiling, therefore, we should be wise to
go.

To reach it we must ascend the slopes of the outer ranges which rise
abruptly from the plains. A giant forest now replaces the stunted and
bushy timber of the Terai proper and clothes the steep mountain-sides
with dense, deep-green, dripping vegetation. The trees are of
great height, and are sheathed and festooned with climbing plants of
many kinds. Bauhinias and robinias, like huge cables,