neventful. Existence in
this frontier region, once full of the tragedy of Indian warfare, had
been gradually softened by peace and religion. The passions slowly
kindling in the struggle over slavery had not yet burst into flame, and
this particular valley was even more quiet than others because it had
been settled by a colony of Quakers. Into it the rude noises of the
great outside world floated only in softened echoes, and what knowledge
young Corson had acquired of that vague and shadowy realm had come
mainly through traveling preachers, and this, because of their
simplicity and unworldliness, was not unlike hearing the crash of arms
through silken portieres or seeing the flash of lightning through the
stained-glass windows of a cathedral. In such a sequestered region books
and papers were scarce, and he had access only to a few volumes written
by quietists and mystics, and to that great mine of sacred literature,
the Holy Bible. The seeds of knowledge sown by these books in the rich
soil of this young heart were fertilized by the society of noble men,
virtuous women, and natural surroundings of exquisite beauty.

But however limited his knowledge of men and affairs, the young mystic
had acquired an extraordinary familiarity with the operations of the
divine life which animates the universe. He seemed to have found the
pass-key to nature's mysteries, and to have acquired a language by which
he could communicate with all her creatures. He knew where the rabbits
burrowed, where the partridges nested, and where the wild bees stored
their honey. He could foretell storms by a thousand signs, possessed the
homing instinct of the pigeons, knew where the first violets were to be
found, and where the last golden-rod would bloom. The squirrels crept
down the trunks of trees to nibble the crumbs which he scattered for
them. He could fold up his hands like a cup and at his whistle birds
would drop into them as into a nest. His was a beautiful soul, and what
Novalis said of Spinoza might have been said of him, "he was a
God-intoxicated man." He was in that blissful period of existence when
the interpretations of life imparted to him by his elders solved the few
simple problems of thought and action pressed upon him by his
environment. He had never seriously questioned any of the ideas received
from his instructors. He was often conscious of the infinite mystery
lying beyond his ken, but never of those frightful inconsistencies and