The Atlantic Monthly — My Journal to my Cousin Mary
“ When we reached the ferry, the porters carried my couch, and Ben myself, depositing us upon the deck, where I could look upon the river. The stately flow of the waters impressed me with dread. They swept by, not swift, not slow,--steady, like fate. Ours may be a dull river to an artist; but its volume of water, its width, perhaps even the flat shores, which do not seem to bound it, make it grand and impressive.Kate recalled me from my almost shuddering gaze down into the water, and drew my attention to a scene very unlike our little picturesque, rural views at home. ”
