(Concluded from page 546.)
BOOK FOURTH.
SECTION I.
O, help me to escape that oblivion which is more fearful than death! Who would fall with the common herd, like rain into the ocean—lost in eternity! Even as the lightning is born of conflicting vapor; is born to penetrate, change, and subdue. So, of every age, and of the breath and roar of the people, is born one to rule, and mould, and make his time. Go then, and get power. Get it by the sword; since, even in our day, blood buoys the strong swimmer onward to greatness. Get it by arts of policy; since men will be ruled, and most honor those who rule them most sternly. Get it by the pen; a voice which fills all time, reaches every ear, fashions the intellect of millions, and makes it your own. Who would not float down through endless ages upon a strain of such music, the multitudinous echo of a spirit chosen of God? The shade of Tubal rests upon my hand, and guides it.
The gentle dew falls in silence, unmarked; the print of its footsteps disappear before the growing light; yet the earth acknowledges its presence in the livelier green it puts on to make glad its children. In the narrow valley lives an honest worker; one who, with years of labor, has subdued the hardy soil. Even now, the yellow grain bends beneath the weight of its own wealth, and wakes a joy which ambition never knew. Think you that his days are unrecorded in the Book of Life? Upon his broad shoulders rests the State. Ariel’s soul is content.
Thus, early in time, to these two were given, in divided empire, the passions which now govern the sons of Adam; and have built up, giving and receiving mutual aid, all our glory.
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SECTION II.
As the adventurer, he who first traversed the Amazon, lost in the wood which covers, thick, the base of Chimborazo, shutting out day and night, listened with large wonder, mixed fear and joy, to the war of elements unchained within its bowels; so Erix and Zella, with all their tribe, listened to the first voice of that strange instrument which Ariel, gifted of God, after many days, raised high, midway the mountains and the sea. He had caught and tamed, to answer to the touch of a skill creative, the sure interpreter of matter and of mind; and the vast soul which, in these latter days, is well shadowed forth in that book of love, called The People. He, in a page resplendent with holy fire, and with a name here unrecognized, is given to every true believer as the builder of the Organ, and inventor of that art which raises man close to the footstool of his Maker; and as the notes—new to mortal ears—rose deep, heavy, filling the forest wide, overcoming the distant murmur of the sea, overcoming all voices of all life, rumbling, changed to the clangor of great strifes run for in the future upon many an unbattled plain, to close in a hymn so soft, so melting, so full of sweet acknowledgment of the power by God intrusted to a noble end: even Zella, who had watched his toils and marked their purpose, fell prostrate; while Erix and his brethren, trembling, fled; nor turned till the music, wild with joy and that laughter which leaps from youth, and health, and a breast vacant of all care, soothed their unknown fears, and drew them with a golden cord, slow tracing back their steps, again to listen, again to wonder, and again to admire; till, grown familiar, they expressed with cries, sad shouts, and gestures violent, their new bliss, and circling, danced. Then, catching the measure, as Ariel’s marvelous hand poured forth a song of high gratitude for the gift of chiefest excellence in all that store of heaven’s bounty by himself enjoyed, they gave rhythm for rhythm.
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