84 Walks in New England 



a character not so much of earth and time as of 

 God and eternity. This is but for a moment in 

 the endless ages, it is a transient glimpse of the 

 unbeginning and unending Spirit, which lives 

 thus and moves thus, and so influences our souls, 

 that are parts of his soul, that we feel our deri 

 vation and know our destiny. Such as we may 

 see betokens and assures what we are and shall 

 be. 



The foreground of such a view is always as 

 wonderful in beauty, though less impressive, 

 lacking that transfiguration which the zephyrs, 

 the sunlight and the splendid cloud-traversed 

 blue sky lend to the larger and higher view. 

 This foreground may be of a little marsh in 

 which gray birches, poplars, a spruce or two, may 

 add a touch of variety, but in which also the 

 cinnamon ferns are swiftly unrolling their &quot; fiddle- 

 heads/ the skunk cabbage displays its tropical 

 luxuriance of rich green leaves and the rhodora 

 blooms in royal purple modesty among the tufts 

 of strong marsh grasses. Then what should be 

 said about the darlings of the spring, the bluets, 

 the Quaker ladies, which now make edges of 

 pastures, and often whole sidehills, milk-white 

 with their infantile prettiness ? These little 

 blossoms are individually charming, but they are 

 only emphatic in communities, and they never 



