[John Milton Binckley, June 1859 Travel Diary, page 12. Many thanks to William Myers, Mary Davy, Sally Young and Sue Davis for their ongoing research collaboration; specifically to William for providing scans of the original document, and in turn many thanks to Peter Johnston Binckley and Patricia D'Arcy "Trish" Binckley (1951-2007), at the source. This is my rough transcription.]
We are now past Harpers Ferry. The landscape here grows gentler, and things graceful hang from every twilight-veiled object -- clouds hang like silver and golden draperies descending from starry diamonds.
Am I one of the sons of God that saw the daughters of men that they were fair? Would the mountains rear up from the level horizon to utter with dumb eloquence that I love? Would the whole Earth put on the flowery robes of spring only to waken the thought of -- ? Do the stars of Heaven come forth with a mute and glorious hint[?] to me? Are the Heavens and the Earth but starry letters of my love? Does --
Railroad travel is the most unsatisfactory of all. Observation is not only impeded but it is distorted & illusive. The mind can form no general idea, and even particular spectacles are associated with objects not corrected, that encumbrances the memory. [F]or example, who can remember the calvetin[?] mountain in a certain view without a piece of a [to be continued.]
[John Milton Binckley (1831-1878).]
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