“The love of God and neighbor;
An equal-handed labour;
The richer life, where beauty
Walks hand in hand with duty.”
XXIV
“A dream to me alone is Arno’s vale,”
writes Whittier in his “Last Walk in Autumn.” Yet those who know say that his pen pictures of Italy are perfect. He is a consolation and an inspiration to them upon whom life’s limitations press.
Judging by his reading, the world of books was indeed his world. Books alone were never his world, however; he chose “living guests who love the day;” and he had them. For from East and West men and women of thought and power and accomplishment came to him who could not go to them. And not even personal presence or telegraph or telephone did he require to draw about himself a network of communication with the best and most interesting of the world’s thinkers and workers. In all parts beyond his sight, he knew them by letter and message. Through travelers and books the world of his picturing was not far from the real world. But especially did he perceive it through that imagination which saw
“The marble palaces of Ind
Rise round him in the snow and wind.”