are becoming clearer and brighter as the excitement of overcrowded days and weeks gradually calms down. I can be in those places where I passed days and nights%2c and became habituated to the sight of the cathedral%2c or of the Church of the Holy Trinity%2c at morning%2c at noon%2c at evening%2c whenever I turned my eyes in its direction. I often close my eyelids%2c and startle my household by saying%2c "Now I am in Salisbury%2c" or "Now I am in Stratford." It is a blessed thing to be able%2c in the twilight of years%2c to illuminate the soul with such visions. The Charles%2c which flows beneath my windows%2c which I look upon between the words of the sentence I am now writing%2c only turning my head as I sit at my table%2c--the Charles is hardly more real to me than Shakespeare's Avon%2c since I floated on its still waters%2c or strayed along its banks and saw the cows reflected in the smooth expanse%2c their legs upward%2c as if they were walking the skies as the flies walk the ceiling. Salisbury Cathedral stands as substantial in my thought as our own King's Chapel%2c since I slumbered by its side%2c and arose in the morning to find it still there%2c and not one of those unsubstantial fabrics built by the architect of dreams.
The next day%2c as I was strolling through Burlington Arcade%2c I saw a figure just before me which I recognized as that of my townsman%2c Mr. Abbott Lawrence. He was accompanied by his son%2c who had just returned from a trip round the planet. There are three grades of recognition%2c entirely distinct from each other: the meeting of two persons of different countries who speak the same language%2c--an American and an Englishman%2c for instance; the meeting of two Americans from different cities%2c as of a Bostonian and a New Yorker or a Chicagonian; and the meeting of two from the same city%2c as of two Bostonians.