Why do I not love to be near the sea better than among the mountains? Here is my home, if birthplace makes home. But no, it is not my natura...

Norton. Am I glad for trials, for disappointments, for opportunities for self-sacrifice, for everything God sends? Ah! indeed I do not know!...

Is it always selfish to yield to depression? Can one help it, if the perspective of a coming year of lonely labor seems very long? No. I sha...

This first week of October, this month of months, shall not pass without some record of its beauty. Norton woods and Norton sunsets are the ...

Yesterday two letters came to me, each from a friend I have never seen, yet each with a flower-like glow and perfume that made my heart glad...

Rain: and just one of those dreary drizzling rains which turn one in from the outer world upon one's own consciousness, a most unhealthy...

George Fox's journal is a leaf from a strange chapter of the world's history: from the history of religion. If a plain man should co...

How refreshing the clear cold air is, after the summer-like fogs and rains we have had! I love the cold; the northern air is strengthening; ...

The beauty of this morning was wonderful; something in the air made me feel like singing. I thought my weariness was all gone; but leaning o...

I heard Charles Sumner on the Rebellion: my first sight and hearing of the great anti-slavery statesman. He was greeted with tremendous appl...

Looking out on the clouds at sunset, the thought of God as constantly evolving beauty from His own being into all created forms, struck me f...

"And with a child's delight in simple things." That I have not lost all this, I felt to-day, in receiving a note from an unkno...

I must hurry my mind, when I have to press ancient history into a three-months' course, and keep in advance of my class in study, with r...

Yesterday I visited the residence of the late Hon. Daniel Webster, at Marshfield. There was much that was interesting to see in the great ma...

I visited Plymouth, placed my foot on the memorable "Plymouth Rock," of the Pilgrims (now so enclosed and covered as to leave scar...

Fishing on the "Indian Pond" in Pembroke half the day, catching sunfish and shiners, red perch and white; my first exploits of the...

At Amesbury,—with two of the dearest friends my life is blessed with,—dear quiet-loving Lizzie, and her poet brother. I love to sit with the...

One of the stillest moonlight evenings, not a sound heard but the bleat of a lamb, and the murmur of the river; all the rest a cool, broad, ...

"The eye is not satisfied with seeing, and the ear with hearing," and one can never tire of the vision of mountain landscapes, and...

I am enjoying the society of my old friend and former associate teacher. She is more gifted than I, in most ways, and it is pleasant to talk...