1 8 November — I follow a Rivulet. 



He, too, was entirely impervious to questions about dis- 

 tant localities, and he did not understand French, whether 

 from weak intellect or mere isolation I know not. He 

 spoke the uncouth patois of these regions, a language 

 more remote from French than is either Spanish or 

 Italian. Yet even his patois was spoken with the great- 

 est hesitation, as if utterance of any kind were a difficulty 

 for him. 



It being impossible to gain any information from 

 these dwellers in the wilderness, I determined to take a 

 resolution and follow the rivulet in the valley. If it 

 were our own rivulet it would surely lead us home- 

 wards ; if not, we should at least escape the danger of 

 wandering uselessly in a circle. Every stream in the 

 forest gets out of the forest ultimately, and he who 

 follows a rivulet, if he can only follow it long enough, 

 will emerge at last from its labyrinthine dells. 



* In the woods,' says Emerson, ' is perpetual youth. 

 Within these plantations of God, a decorum and sanctity 

 reign, a perennial festival is dressed, and the guest sees 

 not how he should tire of them in a thousand years. In 

 the woods we return to reason and faith. There I feel 

 that nothing can befall me in life — no disgrace, no 

 calamity (leaving me my eyes), which nature cannot 

 repair.' How different is this from Dante's feeling about 

 the forest ! As the gloom of evening settled down upon 

 the land the views of Dante prevailed with me more 

 and more. I felt that our modern conception of wild 

 nature, simply as a field for the pursuit of health and 

 amusement, or pleasant study, is not a complete con- 



