.

THE JOURNEY HOME.
It had ceased to be dark; we walked in a dim twilight, breathing through the dimness the breath of the spring.

A wondrous change had passed upon the world--or was it not rather that a change more marvellous had taken place in us?
Without light enough in the sky or the air to reveal anything, every heather-bush, every small shrub, every blade of grass was perfectly visible--either by light that went out from it, as fire from the bush Moses saw in the desert, or by light that went out of our eyes.

Nothing cast a shadow; all things interchanged a little light.
Every growing thing showed me, by its shape and colour, its indwelling idea--the informing thought, that is, which was its being, and sent it out.

My bare feet seemed to love every plant they trod upon.