64 AUTUMN NOTES IN IOWA 



''has contrived to make itself heard of in this 

 world for twenty-five centuries to an extent not 

 reached as yet by any river, however corpulent, 

 of his [the American's] own land. The glory of 

 the Thames is measured by the destiny of the pop- 

 ulation to which it ministers, by the commerce 

 which it supports, by the grandeur of the empire 

 in which . . . it is the most influential stream.'' 

 One might reply by pointing out that De Quin- 

 cey's own tribute to both Tiber and Thames is 

 based on quantitative standards largely, but let 

 that pass. Few Americans of any degree of cul- 

 ture are inclined to lessen the practical or poetic 

 glories of any worthy English or continental river. 

 Many of us have lingered in affectionate spirit by 

 the peaceful meadow reaches of the Tweed near 

 Abbotsford, and watched with delight the boat- 

 men of the Seine, from the environs of Notre 

 Dame de Paris. One at least has followed with 

 almost passionate zest the wanderings of the Dud- 

 don from its source to the sea. Our danger today, 

 one fancies, lies rather in the opposite direction — 

 in ignorance of the true majesty of our own home 

 waters, in hurried commercial life ashamed of 

 silent meditation before the grandeur God has 

 granted us for our own. Spirit of the English 

 opium-eater, come some beautiful early summer 

 morning, and look upon the stream of your former 

 disdain from the forward hurricane deck of a slow- 



