The Literary World [volume 31, number 14: Dec 1, 1900: page 253]

THE LIGHT OF DAY.

IN putting forth this book Mr. John Burroughs will try the patience of many friendly and admiring readers who have hitherto enjoyed his comradeship in the love of out-of-door life. Has he entered on a second childhood? Does he really mean this utterance to be taken seriously? If the latter, there is neither conviction from nor satisfaction in his rambling arguments and random assertions.

Discarding the faith of his father, and cutting loose from the historic creeds, Mr. Burroughs here expounds the religion of the new "day" which has dawned upon him with the "enlightenment" arising from science pure and simple. He thinks that he has now outgrown any concern for the divine life, any interest in immortality, any care for the destiny of man, and rests in a supreme content, his mind at leisure to devote itself to other subjects of greater moment. What a peaceful frame of mind is his who can write in verse an introduction which begins this way:

Serene, I fold my hands and wait,
   Nor care for wind, or tide, or sea:
 I rave no more 'gainst Time or Fate,
   For lo! my own shall come to me.

And so on.

These essays were written, it seems, twelve or fifteen years ago, but in their present form, the author endorses them; though the reader who is still at anchor will not fail to discern the notes of doubt and unrest.