234 Walks in New England 



ersed by the pretty cranberry, ruddy fruited, and 

 the creeping snowberry, bordered in the drier 

 parts of the marsh by goldthread and partridge- 

 berry with its sanguine fruit, and overrun by the 

 beautiful cassandra and andromeda. Here in 

 their season are to be seen lovely pink orchids, 

 and all around bloom the white clethra and the 

 crimson laurel called lambkill. The poison su 

 mach abounds, too, with its pale and forbidding 

 berries. Then we reach an outlook on a wide 

 stretch of swamp where the cat-tails grow, and at 

 the edges the sweet-flag ; while beneath our feet 

 the pitcher-plant riots in profusion. 



What is the impression of these marshes, so 

 luxuriant in life, so defiant or ignorant of man ? 

 It is the great secret of Nature, its infinite and 

 versatile mystery. Mystery is the great voice of 

 earth, always heard by the attentive ear ; it is the 

 great aspect of earth, always seen by the enchanted 

 eye. This mystery is none other than the all- 

 pervading life of God. Leaving the ways of men 

 and plunging into the unspoiled wilderness, such 

 thoughts come as the current labour of daily life 

 finds no room for. All life is one ; we are one 

 with tree and shrub and flower, one with squirrel 

 and bird, one even with the sinuous serpent. The 

 sympathy of life draws to these lesser things than 

 ourselves a close attention, for they are near us 



