Yet we were happier, believing the blossoming of stars to be only drops of milk from the perfect breast of a goddess.
"Nymphs haunted our springs; dryads slumbered in the waving shadows of our trees; zephyrs ethereal rode upon our summer winds; and great Pan played upon his pipe in the emerald gloom of our summer woods. Ye men of to-day have analyzed all substances, decomposed all elements, to discover the Undiscoverable, and ye have found it not. But in searching for the unsearchable, ye have lost joy.
"We loved the beauty of youth,—the litheness of young limbs,—the rosy dawn of maturity,—the bloom of downy cheeks,—the sweetness of eyes sweetened by vague desires of life's spring,—the marvelous thrill of a first kiss,—the hunger of love which had only to announce itself to be appeased,—and the glory of strength. But ye have sought the secret of the Universal life in charnel-houses,—dismembering rottenness itself and prying open the jaws of Death to view the awful emptiness therein. Learning only enough to appal you, ye have found that science can
