It has put more pictures of grandeur into
my being than ever entered in such a way before. It is grand enough to
bear acquaintance. People who view it from a distance must be
strangers. It has been, and ever will be, a great example and lofty
monument of my Father's power. He taketh up the isles as a very little
thing; he toucheth the mountains and they smoke. The strength of the
hills is his also; and he has made all things for his children, and
waits to do greater things than these.
THE GRAND CANON OF THE COLORADO RIVER
Before me lies a thin bit of red rock, rippled as delicately as a
woman's hair, bearing marks of raindrops that came from the south. It
was once soft clay. It was laid down close to the igneous Archaean
rocks when Mother Earth was in her girlhood and water first began to
flow. More clay flowed over, and all was hardened into rock. Many
strata, variously colored and composed, were deposited, till our bit of
beauty was buried thousands of feet deep. The strata were tilted
variously and abraded wondrously, for our earth has been treated very
much as the fair-armed bread-maker treats the lump of dough she doubles
and kneads on the molding board. Other rocks of a much harder nature,
composed in part of the shells of inexpressible multitudes of Ocean's
infusoria, were laid down from the superincumbent sea.
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