o, and the rich clouds of sunset, were reflected in the
peaceful bosom of the river; and surely, if its bosom can give back such
an adequate reflection of heaven, it cannot be so gross and impure as I
described it yesterday. Or if so, it shall be a symbol to me that even a
human breast, which may appear least spiritual in some aspects, may
still have the capability of reflecting an infinite heaven in its
depths, and therefore of enjoying it. It is a comfortable thought, that
the smallest and most turbid mud-puddle can contain its own picture of
heaven. Let us remember this, when we feel inclined to deny all
spiritual life to some people, in whom, nevertheless, our Father may
perhaps see the image of his face. This dull river has a deep religion
of its own: so, let us trust, has the dullest human soul, though,
perhaps, unconsciously.

The scenery of Concord, as I beheld it from the summit of the hill, has
no very marked characteristics, but has a great deal of quiet beauty, in
keeping with the river. There are broad and peaceful meadows, which, I
think, are among the most satisfying objects in natural scenery. The
heart reposes on them with a feeling that few things else can give,
because almost all other objects are abrupt and clearly defined; but a
meadow stretches out like a small infinity, yet with a secure homeliness
which we do not find either in an expanse of water or of air. The hills
which border these meadows are wide swells of land, or long and gradual
ridges, some of them densely covered with wood. The white village, at a
distance on the left, appears to be embosomed among wooded hills. The
verdure of the country is much more perfect than is usual at this season
of the year, when the autumnal hue has generally made considerable
progress over trees and grass. Last evening, after the copious showers
of the preceding two days, it was worthy of early June, or, indeed, of a
world just created. Had I not then been alone, I should have had a far
deeper sense of beauty, for I should have looked through the medium of
another spirit. Along the horizon there were masses of those deep clouds
in which the fancy may see images of all things that ever existed or
were dreamed of. Over our old manse, of which I could catch but a
glimpse among its embowering trees, appeared the immensely gigantic
figure of a hound, crouching down, with head erect, as if keeping
watchful guard while the master of the mansion was away.... How swe