"Quit thy friends as the dead in doom,
And build to them a final tomb.
Behind thee leave thy merchandise,
Thy churches and thy charities.
Enough for thee the primal mind
That flows in streams—that breathes in wind."
Even the gentle Wordsworth, too; read his exquisite sonnet, beginning,—
"The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers."
All recognize that it is a mental and spiritual change that is needed.
With the earnest desire of suggesting to tired souls a practicable way of resting, I will even give a bit of personal history; I will tell the way in which I have learned to find recreation in nature.
When I turn my back upon my home, I make a serious and determined effort to leave behind me all cares and worries. As my train, on that beautiful May evening, passed beyond the brick and stone walls, and sped into the open country, and I found myself alone with night, I shook off, as well as I was able, all my affairs, all my interests, all my responsibilities, leaving them in that busy city behind me, where a few burdens more or less would not matter to anybody. With my trunks checked, and my face turned toward the far-off Rocky Mountains, I left the whole work-a-day world behind me, departing—so far as possible—a liberated soul, with no duties excepting to rejoice and to recruit. This is not an easy thing to do; it is like tearing apart one's very life; but it can be done by earnest endeavor, it has been done, and it is a charm more potent than magic to bring restoration and recreation to the brain and nerve-weary worker.