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164
Glaucus; Or, The Wonders of the Shore
·
Charles Kingsley
90
Mystery
inexplicable
on
the
conceited
notion
which,
making
man
forsooth
the
centre
of
the
universe,
dares
to
believe
that
this
variety
of
forms
has
existed
for
countless
ages
in
abysmal
sea-depths
and
untrodden
forests,
only
that
some
few
individuals
of
the
Western
races
might,
in
these
latter
days,
at
last
discover
and
admire
a
corner
here
and
there
of
the
boundless
realms
of
beauty.
Inexplicable,
truly,
if
man
be
the
centre
and
the
object
of
their
existence;
explicable
enough
to
him
who
believes
that
God
has
created
all
things
for
Himself,
and
rejoices
in
His
own
handiwork,
and
that
the
material
universe
is,
as
the
wise
man
says,
“A
platform
whereon
His
Eternal
Spirit
sports
and
makes
melody.”
Of
all
the
blessings
which
the
study
of
nature
brings
to
the
patient
observer,
let
none,
perhaps,
be
classed
higher
than
this:
that
the
further
he
enters
into
those
fairy
gardens
of
life
and
birth,
which
Spenser
saw
and
described
in
his
great
poem,
the
more
he
learns
the
awful
and
yet
most
comfortable
truth,
that
they
do
not
belong
to
him,
but
to
One
greater,
wiser,
lovelier
than
he;
and
as
he
stands,
silent
with
awe,
amid
the
pomp
of
Nature’s
ever-busy
rest,
hears,
as
of
old,
“The
Word
of
the
Lord
God
walking
among
the
trees
of
the
garden
in
the
cool
of
the
day.”
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