To complete the ideal of a mountain, at least in a picture, it seems necessary to see a lake lying at its foot. I have such a picture in my mind’s eye, besides that of Scott’s, “--On yonder liquid lawn, In hues of bright reflection drawn, Distinct the shaggy mountains lie, Distinct the rocks, distinct the sky.” [Illustration: “In hues of bright reflection drawn, distinct the shaggy mountains lie.”] And a beautiful lesson seems by their association suggested to my mind. For thus ought the mirror of our daily life, which lies at their foot, clearly and constantly to reflect the calm and the beauty and the elevation of those mountain-hours. Beware of influences, sudden winds and treacherous currents, which, ruffling and wrinkling the lake, shall mar and blur the image of those high moments, and of the heaven yet far above the mountains. [Illustration] MUSINGS IN THE TWILIGHT. [Illustration] But now the quiet days of September are come. September, which is the Twilight of the year--rather, I would call it the first hint of twilight, when the flush and glow are sobering down, and a cast of thoughtfulness is deepening day by day upon the months. “Autumn has o’erbrimmed the clammy cells” of the bees; the fields, where the long rows of many sheaves stand, gradually grow bare; the intensely dark summer green of the elms and of the hedgerows out of which they rise, is interrupted here and there by a tenderer tinge; the spruce firs in the copses begin to appear more dark, distinct, and particular; the larches begin to show faint hearts, and to look more delicate beside their sombre brothers. There is rather the augury, the prescience, than the perceived presence of a change. I have fancied sometimes that the trees have plotted together and banded themselves by an agreement not to give in, this time, but to defy the utmost power of stripping, desolating Winter. And it is curious, with this idea, to watch them. Throughout September, they at least keep up appearances well, and from one to another the watchword is whispered,-- “Keep a good heart, O trees, and hold The Winter stern at bay!”