One of the pleasantest things in the world is going a journey; but I like to go by myself. I can enjoy society in a room; but out of doors, nature is company enough for me. I am then never less alone than when alone.


The soul of a journey is liberty, perfect liberty, to think, feel, do, just as one pleases. We go a journey chiefly to be free of all impediments and of all inconveniences; to leave ourselves behind, much more to get rid of others. It is because I want a little breathing-space to <u>muse</u> on indifferent matters, where Contemplation


May <u>plume</u> her feathers and let grow her wings,

That in the various bustle of resort

Were all too ruffled, and sometimes <u>impaired</u>.


I have no objection to argue a point with anyone for twenty miles of measured road, but not for pleasure. If you rent the hedge, the primrose, the violet, the lily, the rose, are all shut out with the argument. The beauties of nature are lost in the <u>contention</u> of words. I want to see my vague notions float like the down of the <u>thistle</u> before the breeze, and not to have them entangled in the <u>briars</u> and thorns of controversy.


I am not, however, an enemy to conversation on the road; only I would have it as good as the prospect. I would have it take a winding, unreckoned, rambling course — now touching on the past, now on the future; now on all the things that are not in heaven or earth, but between them; now starting a doubt, now settling a question; and, in short, it should be as free, unconstrained, and <u>diversified</u> as the varied scenes through which we pass.


The clear sky, the morning air, the shifting and lovely <u>hues</u> of earth and sky, are the only alphabet we want. They teach us music, and color, and <u>eloquence</u>. They are the only eloquence — «the music of the spheres» — «the still, sad music of humanity.»


The sense of freedom, and the wide expansion of soul, is like a sweet <u>intoxication</u>. I can look at nothing in the world with indifference. The green fields, the purple heath, the rocky hill, the winding river, are all rich with meaning. Every scene has a voice, and speaks to the heart.