NATURE AND THE CITY. 327 



and pure in the youth of the world, and that still is 

 throbbing and swelling with the old savage strain be- 

 neath. The glimpse of a gray squirrel in a park, late 

 on some afternoon, frisking and leaping among the 

 beeches, even though he be tame and not afraid of the 

 hoof-beats of horses and the rough tramp of heels on 

 the walks, or the sight of the first birds of spring, or 

 to hear a robin's twilight carol, still has power to make 

 the heart rise in wonder, and even now, as Emerson 

 sang it, 



"Can make the wild blood start 

 In its mystic springs." 



In winter, too, the snow falls on the city streets as well 

 as on the fields, and in spring the sweet country wild 

 flowers can be found in the market stalls by those who 

 wish for them. 



Yet it does men incalculable spiritual harm to re- 

 main so close to one another as our cities demand. Let 

 us at least walk out to the roadsides and the woods 

 occasionally, and refresh and purify our minds in the 

 quietness and joy of the beautiful world. While down 

 in man's crowded dwelling-places all is excitement and 

 intensity and unnaturally forgetful, out in the open the 

 wind is tossing the tree-tops and sweeping to us odors 

 and scents of green meadows and quiet wood-dingles, 

 of lake and river, of prairie and forest, of sea and 

 mountain, and of the broad life and health of Nature 

 everywhere. Men in cities should listen to its voice 

 whispering among the leaves. It brings the message 

 of peace to them. 



As I think of the contrast between it and these dis- 

 tant green upland pastures, quiet, grazed on by sheep, 



