Excerpt from On Tiptoe: A Romance of the Redwoods
The great Intelligences who work back of our ordered universe are obscure to us. They move without haste and in their own good time. Never are their faces revealed to us. We are aware of them by their deeds, by their shad owed reflections in men, by the interactions of their laws which never change. Nothing do we know and few things have we guessed of their intentions or the aim of their mighty progressions. At one extreme of our vision the primal ooze; at the other, men as we know them; beyond that the veil.
Nor clearly can we evaluate the means through which evolution advances. The moment ripens to transformation. What has been static, as permanent as the eternal hills, becomes at a pin point of time fluid. All life changes. Some times we perceive that moment appropriately and magnificently as the pomp of kings and wars. More often it never comes within our ken.
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