in succession down the mountain-sides, the
sequestered glens and dells--all these have beauties which the
terrific rain and the mists in which they are usually enveloped do not
hide but augment.

The River Teesta itself, though only a minor contributor to the
Brahmaputra, is nevertheless during the rainy season, when it is fed
both by the falling rain and by the melting snows and glaciers of the
Kinchinjunga region, impressive in its might and energy. With a
force and tumult that nothing could withstand it comes swirling
down the valley. Before its rushing impetuosity everything would be
swept away. For it is no little tossing torrent: it possesses depth and
weight and volume, and sweeps majestically along in great waves
and cataracts. In comparison with the serene composure of the lofty
summits here is life and force and activity to the full--and
destructive activity at that, to all appearance. Yet as, from the safety
of a bridge by which the genius of man has spanned it, we look upon
the turmoil, a strange thrill comes through us. There is such splendid
energy in the river. We are fascinated by the power it displays. It is
glorious to look upon. Alarming in a way it is. But we know it can
only act within certain strictly defined bounds. A foot beyond those
bounds it is powerless. And while it is already confined by Nature
within these limits, we know the day will come when it will be
completely within the control of man and its very power available
for our own purposes. So in the end it is with no sense of terror that
we watch the raging river in its headlong course. Rather do we enjoy
the sight of such exultant energy, which will one day be at man's
disposal. We rejoice with the river in a feeling of power, and herein
lies its Beauty for us.

* * *

As we look at the tremendous gorges through which the river clears
its way we again are filled with awe and wonder. Straight facing us
is a clean, sheer cliff of hardest, sternest rock. It cannot be actually
perpendicular, but to all appearance it is. And the mere sight of it
strengthens our souls. Here is granite solidity, and yet no mere stolid
obstinacy. For these cliffs have risen--so the geologists tell us
--through their own internal energy to their present proud position.
They have, indeed, had to give place to the river to this extent that
they have had to acknowledge his previous right of way and to leave
a passage for him in their upward effort. The river is