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Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 1811-1896

"Sunny Memories of Foreign Lands, Volume 2"

As long as we only see a thing by glimpses,
and imagine that there is a deal more that we do not see, the mind is
kept in a constant excitement and play; but come to a point where you
can fairly and squarely take in the whole, and there your mind falls
listless. It is the greatest proof to me of the infinite nature of our
minds, that we almost instantly undervalue what we have thoroughly
attained. This sensation afflicted me, for I had been reining in my
enthusiasm for two days, as rather premature, and keeping myself in
reserve for this ultimate display. But now I stood there, no longer
seeing by glimpses, no longer catching rapturous intimations as I
turned angles of rock, or glanced through windows of pine--here it
was, all spread out before me like a map, not a cloud, not a shadow to
soften the outline--there was Mont Blanc, a great alabaster pyramid,
with a glacier running down each side of it; there was the Arve, and
there was the Arveiron, names most magical in song, but now literal
geographic realities.
But in full possession of the whole my mind gave out like a rocket
that will not go off at the critical moment.


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