The Dominion SATURDAY, DECEMBER 28, 1929. IN THE SILENT PLACES

Dominion, Volume 23, Issue 80, 28 December 1929, Page 8

The Dominion SATURDAY, DECEMBER 28, 1929. IN THE SILENT PLACES

A Christmas Day message from Antarctica told us that the best thing the men of the Byrd Expedition could think of on that day was the arrival of the ships in another month, and the return to “unfamiliar trees, grass, trolley cars, and noises.” The longing these men must have for a glimpse of green can lie well imagined after the weary months of monotonous white and grey. On the other hand, the desire to see tramcars and hear once more the din of civilisation will not be so generally appreciated. It has been borne in upon us during the last two decades that in return for the benefits of modern invention, progress, and accelerated movement, we have unwittingly sacrificed much of our leisure, and peace and quiet. . - Opportunities for tranquil reflection are few and far between. Either we have not the time or, having the time, are unable to recapture that restful atmosphere which, in an earlier age, permitted quiet contemplation, uplifted the soul, and gave to the world. some of its noblest philosophy. In a sense, humanity has imprisoned itself within the devices by which it sought to obtain greater freedom of thought and action. Humanity is becoming restive in the pother it has itself created. From the outside world comes news of organised revolt against the noises of our latter-day civilisation. That might almost be taken as an equivalent expression of the Biblical challenge: “What shall it profit a man, if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?” Somewhere, lately, it was written of a certain motorist that he drove into a sequestered corner of a remote valley, and, stopping his car, suddenly became aware of the babbling of a brook and the subtle rustle of quickening Nature —sounds that he had not heard since boyhood, and had almost forgotten. He had the feeling that he had entered the quiet sanctuary of a Church; a curious sense of awe before an indefinable presence. Something of the same feeling animates the tramper who scales a high peak, and on the summit surveys the splendid panorama of a world frQm which he has become, for the time being, detached and remote. There follows an exaltation of mind which refines the emotions and refreshes the spirit. No doubt the men of the Byrd Expedition who long for the noises of civilisation will eventually experience that nostalgia which again and again draws adventurers back to the solitudes. The desire to be alone is a human attribute. For most of us, the call of the silent places has some sort of an appeal. To a few, such as the late Sir Ernest Shackleton, who died on his third voyage to the Antarctic, the urge is irresistible.