of the mob of immediate impressions, still secure and predominant it is
heard subtly sounding. Deep conversation with any river readily
interprets to us that venerable mythus which connects Eden with the
four rivers of the world; as if water must flow where man is chiefly
blest.

But the point here to be emphasized is, that rivers are the progressive
and public element in its geographical expression. They throw the
continent open; they are doors and windows, through which the nations
look forth upon the world, and leave and enter their own household.
They are the hospitality of the continent,--every river-mouth chanting
out over the sea a perpetual, "Walk in," to all the world. Or again,
they are geographical senses,--eyes, ears, and speech; for of these
supreme mediators in the body, voice, vision, and hearing, it is the
office, as of rivers, to open communication between the interior and
exterior world; they are rivers of access to the outlying universe of
men and things, which enters them, and approaches the soul through the
freighted suggestions of sight and sound. Rivers, lastly, are the
geographical symbol of public spirit, the flowing and connecting
element, suggesting common interests and large systems of action.

Thus in these characteristics of Various Productiveness, Unity, and
Openness or Publicity, the continent indicates the description of man
who may be its fit habitant. It suggests a nation vast in numbers and
in power, existing not as an aggregate of fragments, but as an organic
unit, the vital spirit of the whole prevailing in each of its parts;
and consequently predicts a man suitable for wide and yet intimate
societies. Let us not, however, thoughtlessly jump to accept these easy
prognostics; first let it be fully understood what an enormous demand
they imply. Americans speak complacently of their prospective one