. In the forest of Arden. noble life of the place, in the inspiringsociety about us. There came a morn-ing, however, when, as I looked outinto the shadows of the deep woods, Irecalled a wonderful line of Dantes thatmust have come to the poet as he passed1 through some silent and sombre wood-I land path. Suddenly I remembered thatmonths had passed since we had openeda book; we whose most inspiring hourshad once been those in which we readtogether from some familiar page. Foran instant I felt something akin toremorse; it seemed as if I had beendisloyal to friends who had neverfailed me in any ti
. In the forest of Arden. noble life of the place, in the inspiringsociety about us. There came a morn-ing, however, when, as I looked outinto the shadows of the deep woods, Irecalled a wonderful line of Dantes thatmust have come to the poet as he passed1 through some silent and sombre wood-I land path. Suddenly I remembered thatmonths had passed since we had openeda book; we whose most inspiring hourshad once been those in which we readtogether from some familiar page. Foran instant I felt something akin toremorse; it seemed as if I had beendisloyal to friends who had neverfailed me in any time of need. Butas I meditated on this strange forget-fulness of mine, I saw that in Ardenbooks have no place and serve nopurpose. Why should one read a trans-lation when the original work lies openand legible before him? Why shouldone watch the reflections in the shad- LIL iUJlill. Ill,.
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