The idea concerning the making of books is both romantic and grand. The first thinker looked out upon the world around him and beheld its many wonders. He saw the towering mountains, the deep vales, the broad plains; he heard the sighing of the winds, the rush of waters, and the peals of thunder; he beheld the majestic sun by day and the placid moon by night; the lightning, tearing its pathway through the firmament, thrilled his soul; the myriad of stars filled him with wonder; and Nature, with her many tongues, spoke to him her miraculous language. All these things he pondered upon; communed with them in silence; dreamed of them until they became a part of his being; set them in the order in which they most appealed to him and gave expression to them in his own way. He gazed upon the mountain, a vast
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