The New Hampshire Patriot carries a review of A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers:
This is a remarkable volume and it[s] author is a remarkable man. The title is very unpretending and gives but a faint idea of the contents of the work. Few men think as much as they should. All is action; and if one is only busy about something, it is enough; no one can say contemptuously that he is idle—Now to us it seems that this fedeting, itching, hustling turn of mind might frequently with profit be exchanged for a more meditative and thoughtful habit, which should enlarge the understanding and open the heart, develop the rason and chasten the passions. The author of the work before us, is a man of thought—retired from the busy scenes of life, he turns the mental eye inward and endeavors to read the mysterious page of his own soul. Again looking at objects around which meet his senses. he reads lessons of wisdom. To him the very stones preach sermons and the reeds become eloquent. The thread of his narrative is very simple, but upon it he has strung pearls. With a single companion in his little boat, he courses leisurely down the Concord and up the Merrimack Rivers, some sixty miles or more and gives us the reflections and observations of each day. He discourses to us about old inhabitants—describes the genius of fishes—hears the “church-going bell” and talks about modern religion and its inconsistencies—seems strangely inclined to sympathize with the Ancient Greeks and Romans, with their Myths and many Gods—utters deep-felt thoughts about conscience, its office and uses—touches his lyre and gives us a sweet poem—discourses of the old Poets and with them glories over our relics and antiquities, and cares more for them than those of Egypt—moralizes on Friendship, and in fine, gives utterance to a thousand beautiful thoughts upon material and immaterial earth, air and heaven, until on closing the book we find ourselves in love with the author, satisfied with ourselves and at peace with the world. We do not by any means endorse the author’s Pantheism, but will let it stand or fall for itself.
