The journals (the editing of them is brilliant) are the workshop of a mind. It is amusing to find the young man of 22 writing: ‘My years are passing away. Infirmities are already stealing on me…’; it is tragic to read the husband’s poem beginning ‘And Ellen, when the greybeard years Have brought us to life’s Evening hour’; It is interesting to know he visited Concord prison and went into the cells; but the value of the journals lies in their revelation of Emerson’s mental and spiritual growth. Here is his reading, here are his reflections; here are the germs of his sermons. He is keeping company with Shakespeare and Donne, Montaigne, and Johnson, Wordsworth and Coleridge. Such a volume will command more than one reading.