It may not be that the beauties refuse to mix; but their silence, solitariness and independence are dignity, also virtue, through which they rise to the highest worth. And when they have to mix, they should heat fist and then set themselves to motion in song; the wonder is that they mix perfectly well. It is plain enough that the beauties of human life do never mix well till they gain a fire of love; I mean to say there is almost no beauty till love creates it for human life; and how do the beauties of Nature mix? I observe the clouds, trees, stars, mountains, birds and streams which mix at once through the fire of rhythm, and complete a song of natural harmony; I say the fire of rhythm, but you can say it is electricity or personal magnetism if you like. It is perfectly wonderful to see that they know their own places; I mean they never trespass but respect the others, and in song and action do their best. (It is only the sad mortals who always misstep consciously or unconsciously; their misstepping is so clear.) But I think that
