y the comfort wherewith we
ourselves are comforted of God."

Where, asks the stricken heart, shall I find the God of comfort? O
heart, only God himself shall answer you! But know this, that the very
end and purpose of grief is that it shall be comforted. Comfort? The
word has no meaning except to those who have mourned; was never stamped
with its sacred significance except by those who had been through the
deep waters of grief. "As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I
comfort you." A man child, a woman child, He trains you to fullness of
stature, to greatness of experience, to capacity for noble joy, for
heart-sufficing love. To greatness and to joy he calls us, and draws us
slowly by the changing years. The cross is the symbol of a passing
experience. The end, the attainment, is figured to us by that face of
Nature which is the face of God, with the strength of the mountains, the
gladness of the sunlight, the freedom of the sky, the infinitude of the
ocean.

The ripe days of early autumn open their best joys only to the sturdy
walker, who turns his back on the streets to seek the country roads, and
leaves the roads behind him to explore the forest nooks, the ravines, and
the sheltered meadows, hidden deftly away from the incurious traveler,
and keeping a wild sweetness for him who finds them out for himself. If
one is in good tune, he may get the finest flavor of such a walk by
taking it alone, or with only rarely perfect companionship. The ideal
companion is one who can fully enjoy, who will help you to glimpses
through another pair of eyes, and who will never obtrude inopportunely
between yourself and nature. If a satisfactory human comrade be not at
hand, one may find these qualities in no ordinary degree in--a good dog.
But then to appreciate them one must be a true dog-lover, a gift which
is, alas! denied to some otherwise exemplary and worthy people.

What does the dog think of it all? He has his own keen pleasures. His
nose is an organ of intelligence and enjoyment which his master does not
possess. He explores woodchuck holes; he tracks real or imaginary
squirrels; one barks and scolds at him from a high limb, and throws him
into a delicious fever of excitement. As Fox said the greatest pleasure
in life was to win at cards, and the next greatest to lose at cards, so
apparently the dog finds even an unsuccessful chase to be the second best
joy he knows. Look at him, tense and motionless