Rivers.
Rivers have their rise in little rills, which gush from the sides of mountains. Several of these unite, and form a stream; and these again meeting, form a rivulet; and several rivulets form a river, which sometimes runs for many thousand miles, and makes all the country fertile through which it passes.
When a river descends from high land to that which is lower, it often falls over rocks and precipices,—it is then called a cascade; or, if very large, a cataract. Some of these are so large, that the water breaks into spray before it reaches the ground, and the sound of it may be heard for several miles.
Some rivers overflow their banks at certain seasons, owing to the melting of the snow on the mountain tops, or the fall of heavy rains. The river Nile overflows its banks; and, when the waters subside, very great crops of rice and corn immediately spring up, as food for man. There are very few parts of the earth in which rivers are not found; and great, indeed, is their use to mankind.
Shall I tell you what a river is like? It is like the life of man—small at first; the little stream is like a little child, and plays among the flowers of a meadow; it waters a garden, or turns a puny mill.
As it flows on it gathers strength; and, like a child in youth, it becomes turbulent and impatient as it swells along. Now, like a roaring cataract, it shoots headlong down many a rock; then it becomes a sullen and gloomy pool, buried in the bottom of a glen.
Recovering breath by repose, it again dashes on, till, tired of uproar and mischief, it quits all that it has swept along, and leaves the valley, through which it has passed, strewed with its rejected waste.
Now, again, it travels more slowly. It passes through the busy haunts of men, lending its service on every side, and, advancing in its course, becomes stately and grand. Now, instead of breaking over obstacles, it twines round them, and it thus passes along a more quiet course.[13]
At last it leaves the busier world, and slowly and silently travels on; till, at the end, it enters the vast abyss of ocean, which seems spread out, like eternity, to receive it.
[13] Pliny.