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diff --git a/42553-0.txt b/42553-0.txt index 0ce8608..9806481 100644 --- a/42553-0.txt +++ b/42553-0.txt @@ -1,38 +1,4 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, Excursions and Poems, by Henry David Thoreau - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - - - - -Title: Excursions and Poems - The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, Volume V (of 20) - - -Author: Henry David Thoreau - - - -Release Date: April 16, 2013 [eBook #42553] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EXCURSIONS AND POEMS*** - - -E-text prepared by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made -available by Internet Archive (http://archive.org) - - +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42553 *** Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. @@ -13292,362 +13258,4 @@ Transcriber's note: On page 370, tryant's drudge should possibly be tyrant's drudge. - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EXCURSIONS AND POEMS*** - - -******* This file should be named 42553-0.txt or 42553-0.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/2/5/5/42553 - - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - - - - -Title: Excursions and Poems - The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, Volume V (of 20) - - -Author: Henry David Thoreau - - - -Release Date: April 16, 2013 [eBook #42553] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EXCURSIONS AND POEMS*** - - -E-text prepared by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made -available by Internet Archive (http://archive.org) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 42553-h.htm or 42553-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/42553/42553-h/42553-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/42553/42553-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - http://archive.org/details/writingsofhenryd05thorrich - - -Transcriber's note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - - - - -The Writings of Henry David Thoreau - -In Twenty Volumes - -VOLUME V - -Manuscript Edition -Limited to Six Hundred Copies -Number ---- - - - - [Illustration: _Apple Blossoms (page 294)_] - - [Illustration: _Wild Apple Tree_] - - - -The Writings of Henry David Thoreau - -EXCURSIONS AND POEMS - - - - - - - -Boston and New York -Houghton Mifflin and Company -MDCCCCVI - -Copyright 1865 and 1866 by Ticknor and Fields -Copyright 1893 and 1906 by Houghton, Mifflin & Co. - -All rights reserved - - - - -CONTENTS - - - INTRODUCTORY NOTE xi - - - EXCURSIONS - - A YANKEE IN CANADA - - I. CONCORD TO MONTREAL 3 - - II. QUEBEC AND MONTMORENCI 20 - - III. ST. ANNE 40 - - IV. THE WALLS OF QUEBEC 69 - - V. THE SCENERY OF QUEBEC; AND THE - RIVER ST. LAWRENCE 85 - - NATURAL HISTORY OF MASSACHUSETTS 103 - - A WALK TO WACHUSETT 133 - - THE LANDLORD 153 - - A WINTER WALK 163 - - THE SUCCESSION OF FOREST TREES 184 - - WALKING 205 - - AUTUMNAL TINTS 249 - - WILD APPLES 290 - - NIGHT AND MOONLIGHT 323 - - - TRANSLATIONS - - THE PROMETHEUS BOUND OF ÆSCHYLUS 337 - - TRANSLATIONS FROM PINDAR 375 - - - POEMS - - NATURE 395 - - INSPIRATION 396 - - THE AURORA OF GUIDO 399 - - TO THE MAIDEN IN THE EAST 400 - - TO MY BROTHER 403 - - GREECE 404 - - THE FUNERAL BELL 405 - - THE MOON 406 - - THE FALL OF THE LEAF 407 - - THE THAW 409 - - A WINTER SCENE 410 - - TO A STRAY FOWL 411 - - POVERTY 412 - - PILGRIMS 413 - - THE DEPARTURE 414 - - INDEPENDENCE 415 - - DING DONG 417 - - OMNIPRESENCE 417 - - INSPIRATION (QUATRAIN) 418 - - MISSION 418 - - DELAY 418 - - PRAYER 418 - - - A LIST OF THE POEMS AND BITS OF VERSE - SCATTERED AMONG THOREAU'S PROSE - WRITINGS EXCLUSIVE OF THE JOURNAL 420 - - INDEX 423 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - - APPLE BLOSSOMS, _Carbon photograph (page 294)_ _Frontispiece_ - - WILD APPLE TREE, _Colored plate_ - - MONTREAL FROM MOUNT ROYAL 98 - - MOUNT WACHUSETT FROM THE WAYLAND HILLS 134 - - THE OLD MARLBOROUGH ROAD 214 - - FALLEN LEAVES 270 - - WILD APPLE TREE 300 - - - - -INTRODUCTORY NOTE - - -The "Excursions" of the present volume follow the arrangement of the -volume bearing that title in the Riverside Edition, which differed -somewhat as to contents from the "Excursions" collected by Thoreau's -sister after his death, and published in 1863 by Messrs. Ticknor & -Fields. The Biographical Sketch by Emerson which prefaced the latter -appears in the first volume of the present edition. - -"A Yankee in Canada," which here, as in the Riverside Edition, is made -the first of the series of Excursions, was formerly published in a -volume with "Anti-Slavery and Reform Papers." Thoreau made this -excursion to Canada with his friend Ellery Channing, and sent his -narrative to Mr. Greeley, who wrote him regarding it, March 18, 1852: -"I shall get you some money for the articles you sent me, though not -immediately. As to your long account of a Canadian tour, I don't know. -It looks unmanageable. Can't you cut it into three or four, and omit -all that relates to time? The cities are described to death, but I -know you are at home with Nature, and that _she_ rarely and slowly -changes. Break this up, if you can, and I will try to have it -swallowed and digested." Thoreau appears to have taken Greeley's -advice, and the narrative was divided into chapters. But after it had -been begun in _Putnam's_ in January, 1853, where it was entitled -"Excursion to Canada," the author and the editor, who appears from -the following letter to have been Mr. G. W. Curtis, disagreed -regarding the expediency of including certain passages, and Thoreau -withdrew all after the third chapter. The letter is as follows:-- - - NEW YORK, January 2, 1853. - - FRIEND THOREAU.... I am sorry you and C. cannot agree so as to - have your whole MS. printed. It will be worth nothing - elsewhere after having partly appeared in _Putnam's_. I think - it is a mistake to conceal the authorship of the several - articles, making them all (so to speak) _editorial_; but _if_ - that is done, don't you see that the elimination of very - flagrant heresies (like your defiant Pantheism) becomes a - necessity? If you had withdrawn your MS. on account of the - abominable misprints in the first number, your ground would - have been far more tenable. However, do what you will. Yours, - - HORACE GREELEY. - -"Natural History of Massachusetts" was contributed to _The Dial_, -July, 1842, nominally as a review of some recent State reports. "A -Walk to Wachusett" was printed in _The Boston Miscellany_, 1843. Mr. -Sanborn, in his volume on Thoreau, prints a very interesting letter -written by Margaret Fuller in 1841, in criticism of the verses which -stand near the beginning of the paper, offered at that time for -publication in _The Dial_. "The Landlord" was printed in _The -Democratic Review_ for October, 1843. "A Winter Walk" appeared in _The -Dial_ in the same month and year. Emerson in a letter to Thoreau, -September 8, 1843, says: "I mean to send the 'Winter's Walk' to the -printer to-morrow for _The Dial_. I had some hesitation about it, -notwithstanding its faithful observation and its fine sketches of the -pickerel-fisher and of the woodchopper, on account of _mannerism_, an -old charge of mine,--as if, by attention, one could get the trick of -the rhetoric; for example, to call a cold place sultry, a solitude -public, a wilderness _domestic_ (a favorite word), and in the woods to -insult over cities, armies, etc. By pretty free omissions, however, I -have removed my principal objections." The address "The Succession of -Forest Trees" was printed first in _The New York Tribune_, October 6, -1860, and was perhaps the latest of his writings which Thoreau saw in -print. - -After his death the interest which had already been growing was -quickened by the successive publication in _The Atlantic Monthly_ of -"Autumnal Tints" and "Wild Apples" in October and November, 1862, and -"Night and Moonlight" November, 1863. The last named appeared just -before the publication of the volume "Excursions," which collected the -several papers. - -"May Days" and "Days and Nights in Concord," which were printed in the -Riverside Edition, are now omitted as consisting merely of extracts -from Thoreau's Journal and therefore superseded by the publication of -the latter in its complete form. - - * * * * * - -A few of Thoreau's poems, taken from the "Week" and elsewhere, were -added by Mr. Emerson to the volume entitled "Letters to Various -Persons" which he brought out in 1865, but it was not till the volume -of "Miscellanies" was issued in the Riverside Edition that the -otherwise unpublished verse of his that had appeared in _The Dial_ was -gathered into a single volume. Besides the _Dial_ contributions, the -Riverside "Miscellanies" contained a few poems that first found -publication in Mr. Sanborn's Life of Thoreau. But the collection was -not intended to be complete. - -Many of Thoreau's poems, including his translations from the -Anacreontics, are imbedded in the "Week," "Walden," and "Excursions," -and it seemed best not to reproduce them in another volume. In 1895, -shortly after the publication of the Riverside Thoreau, Mr. Henry S. -Salt and Mr. Frank B. Sanborn brought out a book entitled "Poems of -Nature by Henry David Thoreau," in which were collected "perhaps two -thirds of [the poems] which Thoreau preserved." "Many of them," says -the Introduction to that volume, "were printed by him, in whole or in -part, among his early contributions to Emerson's _Dial_, or in his own -two volumes, the _Week_ and _Walden_.... Others were given to Mr. -Sanborn for publication, by Sophia Thoreau, the year after her -brother's death (several appeared in the _Boston Commonwealth_ in -1863); or have been furnished from time to time by Mr. Blake, his -literary executor." This volume contained a number of poems which had -not before appeared in any of Thoreau's published books. Such poems -are now added to those of the Riverside Edition. The present -collection, however, no more than its predecessors pretends to -completeness. It includes only those of Thoreau's poems which have -been previously published and which are not contained in other volumes -of this series. A list of the poems and scattered bits of verse -printed in the other volumes will be found in an Appendix. The Journal -also contains, especially in the early part, a number of heretofore -unpublished poems which it seems best to retain in their original -setting. - - - - -EXCURSIONS - - - - -A YANKEE IN CANADA - - -New England is by some affirmed to be an island, bounded on the north -with the River Canada (so called from Monsieur Cane).--JOSSELYN'S -RARITIES. - -And still older, in Thomas Morton's "New English Canaan," published in -1632, it is said, on page 97, "From this Lake [Erocoise] Northwards is -derived the famous River of Canada, so named, of Monsier de Cane, a -French Lord, who first planted a colony of French in America." - - - - -A YANKEE IN CANADA - - - - -CHAPTER I - -CONCORD TO MONTREAL - - -I fear that I have not got much to say about Canada, not having seen -much; what I got by going to Canada was a cold. I left Concord, -Massachusetts, Wednesday morning, September 25th, 1850, for Quebec. -Fare, seven dollars there and back; distance from Boston, five hundred -and ten miles; being obliged to leave Montreal on the return as soon -as Friday, October 4th, or within ten days. I will not stop to tell -the reader the names of my fellow-travelers; there were said to be -fifteen hundred of them. I wished only to be set down in Canada, and -take one honest walk there as I might in Concord woods of an -afternoon. - -The country was new to me beyond Fitchburg. In Ashburnham and -afterward, as we were whirled rapidly along, I noticed the woodbine -(_Ampelopsis quinquefolia_), its leaves now changed, for the most part -on dead trees, draping them like a red scarf. It was a little -exciting, suggesting bloodshed, or at least a military life, like an -epaulet or sash, as if it were dyed with the blood of the trees whose -wounds it was inadequate to stanch. For now the bloody autumn was -come, and an Indian warfare was waged through the forest. These -military trees appeared very numerous, for our rapid progress -connected those that were even some miles apart. Does the woodbine -prefer the elm? The first view of Monadnock was obtained five or six -miles this side of Fitzwilliam, but nearest and best at Troy and -beyond. Then there were the Troy cuts and embankments. Keene Street -strikes the traveler favorably, it is so wide, level, straight, and -long. I have heard one of my relatives, who was born and bred there, -say that you could see a chicken run across it a mile off. I have also -been told that when this town was settled they laid out a street four -rods wide, but at a subsequent meeting of the proprietors one rose and -remarked, "We have plenty of land, why not make the street eight rods -wide?" and so they voted that it should be eight rods wide, and the -town is known far and near for its handsome street. It was a cheap way -of securing comfort, as well as fame, and I wish that all new towns -would take pattern from this. It is best to lay our plans widely in -youth, for then land is cheap, and it is but too easy to contract our -views afterward. Youths so laid out, with broad avenues and parks, -that they may make handsome and liberal old men! Show me a youth whose -mind is like some Washington city of magnificent distances, prepared -for the most remotely successful and glorious life after all, when -those spaces shall be built over and the idea of the founder be -realized. I trust that every New England boy will begin by laying out -a Keene Street through his head, eight rods wide. I know one such -Washington city of a man, whose lots as yet are only surveyed and -staked out, and, except a cluster of shanties here and there, only the -Capitol stands there for all structures, and any day you may see from -afar his princely idea borne coachwise along the spacious but yet -empty avenues. Keene is built on a remarkably large and level -interval, like the bed of a lake, and the surrounding hills, which are -remote from its street, must afford some good walks. The scenery of -mountain towns is commonly too much crowded. A town which is built on -a plain of some extent, with an open horizon, and surrounded by hills -at a distance, affords the best walks and views. - -As we travel northwest up the country, sugar maples, beeches, birches, -hemlocks, spruce, butternuts, and ash trees prevail more and more. To -the rapid traveler the number of elms in a town is the measure of its -civility. One man in the cars has a bottle full of some liquor. The -whole company smile whenever it is exhibited. I find no difficulty in -containing myself. The Westmoreland country looked attractive. I heard -a passenger giving the very obvious derivation of this name, -Westmore-land, as if it were purely American, and he had made a -discovery; but I thought of "my cousin Westmoreland" in England. Every -one will remember the approach to Bellows Falls, under a high cliff -which rises from the Connecticut. I was disappointed in the size of -the river here; it appeared shrunk to a mere mountain-stream. The -water was evidently very low. The rivers which we had crossed this -forenoon possessed more of the character of mountain-streams than -those in the vicinity of Concord, and I was surprised to see -everywhere traces of recent freshets, which had carried away bridges -and injured the railroad, though I had heard nothing of it. In -Ludlow, Mount Holly, and beyond, there is interesting mountain -scenery, not rugged and stupendous, but such as you could easily -ramble over,--long, narrow, mountain vales through which to see the -horizon. You are in the midst of the Green Mountains. A few more -elevated blue peaks are seen from the neighborhood of Mount Holly; -perhaps Killington Peak is one. Sometimes, as on the Western Railroad, -you are whirled over mountainous embankments, from which the scared -horses in the valleys appear diminished to hounds. All the hills -blush; I think that autumn must be the best season to journey over -even the _Green_ Mountains. You frequently exclaim to yourself, What -_red_ maples! The sugar maple is not so red. You see some of the -latter with rosy spots or cheeks only, blushing on one side like -fruit, while all the rest of the tree is green, proving either some -partiality in the light or frosts or some prematurity in particular -branches. Tall and slender ash trees, whose foliage is turned to a -dark mulberry color, are frequent. The butternut, which is a -remarkably spreading tree, is turned completely yellow, thus proving -its relation to the hickories. I was also struck by the bright yellow -tints of the yellow birch. The sugar maple is remarkable for its clean -ankle. The groves of these trees looked like vast forest sheds, their -branches stopping short at a uniform height, four or five feet from -the ground, like eaves, as if they had been trimmed by art, so that -you could look under and through the whole grove with its leafy -canopy, as under a tent whose curtain is raised. - -As you approach Lake Champlain you begin to see the New York -mountains. The first view of the lake at Vergennes is impressive, but -rather from association than from any peculiarity in the scenery. It -lies there so small (not appearing in that proportion to the width of -the State that it does on the map), but beautifully quiet, like a -picture of the Lake of Lucerne on a music-box, where you trace the -name of Lucerne among the foliage; far more ideal than ever it looked -on the map. It does not say, "Here I am, Lake Champlain," as the -conductor might for it, but having studied the geography thirty years, -you crossed over a hill one afternoon and beheld it. But it is only a -glimpse that you get here. At Burlington you rush to a wharf and go on -board a steamboat, two hundred and thirty-two miles from Boston. We -left Concord at twenty minutes before eight in the morning, and were -in Burlington about six at night, but too late to see the lake. We got -our first fair view of the lake at dawn, just before reaching -Plattsburg, and saw blue ranges of mountains on either hand, in New -York and in Vermont, the former especially grand. A few white -schooners, like gulls, were seen in the distance, for it is not waste -and solitary like a lake in Tartary; but it was such a view as leaves -not much to be said; indeed, I have postponed Lake Champlain to -another day. - -The oldest reference to these waters that I have yet seen is in the -account of Cartier's discovery and exploration of the St. Lawrence in -1535. Samuel Champlain actually discovered and paddled up the lake in -July, 1609, eleven years before the settlement of Plymouth, -accompanying a war-party of the Canadian Indians against the -Iroquois. He describes the islands in it as not inhabited, although -they are pleasant,--on account of the continual wars of the Indians, -in consequence of which they withdraw from the rivers and lakes into -the depths of the land, that they may not be surprised. "Continuing -our course," says he, "in this lake, on the western side, viewing the -country, I saw on the eastern side very high mountains, where there -was snow on the summit. I inquired of the savages if those places were -inhabited. They replied that they were, and that they were Iroquois, -and that in those places there were beautiful valleys and plains -fertile in corn, such as I have eaten in this country, with an -infinity of other fruits." This is the earliest account of what is now -Vermont. - -The number of French-Canadian gentlemen and ladies among the -passengers, and the sound of the French language, advertised us by -this time that we were being whirled towards some foreign vortex. And -now we have left Rouse's Point, and entered the Sorel River, and -passed the invisible barrier between the States and Canada. The shores -of the Sorel, Richelieu, or St. John's River are flat and reedy, where -I had expected something more rough and mountainous for a natural -boundary between two nations. Yet I saw a difference at once, in the -few huts, in the pirogues on the shore, and as it were, in the shore -itself. This was an interesting scenery to me, and the very reeds or -rushes in the shallow water and the tree-tops in the swamps have left -a pleasing impression. We had still a distant view behind us of two or -three blue mountains in Vermont and New York. About nine o'clock in -the forenoon we reached St. John's, an old frontier post three hundred -and six miles from Boston, and twenty-four from Montreal. We now -discovered that we were in a foreign country, in a station-house of -another nation. This building was a barn-like structure, looking as if -it were the work of the villagers combined, like a log house in a new -settlement. My attention was caught by the double advertisements in -French and English fastened to its posts, by the formality of the -English, and the covert or open reference to their queen and the -British lion. No gentlemanly conductor appeared, none whom you would -know to be the conductor by his dress and demeanor; but ere long we -began to see here and there a solid, red-faced, burly-looking -Englishman, a little pursy perhaps, who made us ashamed of ourselves -and our thin and nervous countrymen,--a grandfatherly personage, at -home in his greatcoat, who looked as if he might be a stage -proprietor, certainly a railroad director, and knew, or had a right to -know, when the cars did start. Then there were two or three -pale-faced, black-eyed, loquacious Canadian-French gentlemen there, -shrugging their shoulders; pitted as if they had all had the -small-pox. In the meanwhile some soldiers, redcoats, belonging to the -barracks near by, were turned out to be drilled. At every important -point in our route the soldiers showed themselves ready for us; though -they were evidently rather raw recruits here, they manoeuvred far -better than our soldiers; yet, as usual, I heard some Yankees talk as -if they were no great shakes, and they had seen the Acton Blues -manoeuvre as well. The officers spoke sharply to them, and appeared -to be doing their part thoroughly. I heard one suddenly coming to the -rear, exclaim, "Michael Donouy, take his name!" though I could not see -what the latter did or omitted to do. It was whispered that Michael -Donouy would have to suffer for that. I heard some of our party -discussing the possibility of their driving these troops off the field -with their umbrellas. I thought that the Yankee, though undisciplined, -had this advantage at least, that he especially is a man who, -everywhere and under all circumstances, is fully resolved to better -his condition essentially, and therefore he could afford to be beaten -at first; while the virtue of the Irishman, and to a great extent the -Englishman, consists in merely maintaining his ground or condition. -The Canadians here, a rather poor-looking race, clad in gray homespun, -which gave them the appearance of being covered with dust, were riding -about in caleches and small one-horse carts called charettes. The -Yankees assumed that all the riders were racing, or at least -exhibiting the paces of their horses, and saluted them accordingly. We -saw but little of the village here, for nobody could tell us when the -cars would start; that was kept a profound secret, perhaps for -political reasons; and therefore we were tied to our seats. The -inhabitants of St. John's and vicinity are described by an English -traveler as "singularly unprepossessing," and before completing his -period he adds, "besides, they are generally very much disaffected to -the British crown." I suspect that that "besides" should have been a -because. - -At length, about noon, the cars began to roll towards La Prairie. The -whole distance of fifteen miles was over a remarkably level country, -resembling a Western prairie, with the mountains about Chambly visible -in the northeast. This novel but monotonous scenery was exciting. At -La Prairie we first took notice of the tinned roofs, but above all of -the St. Lawrence, which looked like a lake; in fact it is considerably -expanded here; it was nine miles across diagonally to Montreal. Mount -Royal in the rear of the city, and the island of St. Helen's opposite -to it, were now conspicuous. We could also see the Sault St. Louis -about five miles up the river, and the Sault Norman still farther -eastward. The former are described as the most considerable rapids in -the St. Lawrence; but we could see merely a gleam of light there as -from a cobweb in the sun. Soon the city of Montreal was discovered -with its tin roofs shining afar. Their reflections fell on the eye -like a clash of cymbals on the ear. Above all the church of Notre Dame -was conspicuous, and anon the Bonsecours market-house, occupying a -commanding position on the quay, in the rear of the shipping. This -city makes the more favorable impression from being approached by -water, and also being built of stone, a gray limestone found on the -island. Here, after traveling directly inland the whole breadth of New -England, we had struck upon a city's harbor,--it made on me the -impression of a seaport,--to which ships of six hundred tons can -ascend, and where vessels drawing fifteen feet lie close to the wharf, -five hundred and forty miles from the Gulf, the St. Lawrence being -here two miles wide. There was a great crowd assembled on the -ferry-boat wharf and on the quay to receive the Yankees, and flags of -all colors were streaming from the vessels to celebrate their arrival. -When the gun was fired, the gentry hurrahed again and again, and then -the Canadian caleche-drivers, who were most interested in the matter, -and who, I perceived, were separated from the former by a fence, -hurrahed their welcome; first the broadcloth, then the homespun. - -It was early in the afternoon when we stepped ashore. With a single -companion, I soon found my way to the church of Notre Dame. I saw that -it was of great size and signified something. It is said to be the -largest ecclesiastical structure in North America, and can seat ten -thousand. It is two hundred and fifty-five and a half feet long, and -the groined ceiling is eighty feet above your head. The Catholic are -the only churches which I have seen worth remembering, which are not -almost wholly profane. I do not speak only of the rich and splendid -like this, but of the humblest of them as well. Coming from the -hurrahing mob and the rattling carriages, we pushed aside the listed -door of this church, and found ourselves instantly in an atmosphere -which might be sacred to thought and religion, if one had any. There -sat one or two women who had stolen a moment from the concerns of the -day, as they were passing; but, if there had been fifty people there, -it would still have been the most solitary place imaginable. They did -not look up at us, nor did one regard another. We walked softly down -the broad aisle with our hats in our hands. Presently came in a troop -of Canadians, in their homespun, who had come to the city in the boat -with us, and one and all kneeled down in the aisle before the high -altar to their devotions, somewhat awkwardly, as cattle prepare to lie -down, and there we left them. As if you were to catch some farmer's -sons from Marlborough, come to cattle-show, silently kneeling in -Concord meeting-house some Wednesday! Would there not soon be a mob -peeping in at the windows? It is true, these Roman Catholics, priests -and all, impress me as a people who have fallen far behind the -significance of their symbols. It is as if an ox had strayed into a -church and were trying to bethink himself. Nevertheless, they are -capable of reverence; but we Yankees are a people in whom this -sentiment has nearly died out, and in this respect we cannot bethink -ourselves even as oxen. I did not mind the pictures nor the candles, -whether tallow or tin. Those of the former which I looked at appeared -tawdry. It matters little to me whether the pictures are by a neophyte -of the Algonquin or the Italian tribe. But I was impressed by the -quiet, religious atmosphere of the place. It was a great cave in the -midst of a city; and what were the altars and the tinsel but the -sparkling stalactites, into which you entered in a moment, and where -the still atmosphere and the sombre light disposed to serious and -profitable thought? Such a cave at hand, which you can enter any day, -is worth a thousand of our churches which are open only Sundays, -hardly long enough for an airing, and then filled with a bustling -congregation,--a church where the priest is the least part, where you -do your own preaching, where the universe preaches to you and can be -heard. I am not sure but this Catholic religion would be an admirable -one if the priest were quite omitted. I think that I might go to -church myself some Monday, if I lived in a city where there was such a -one to go to. In Concord, to be sure, we do not need such. Our forests -are such a church, far grander and more sacred. We dare not leave -_our_ meeting-houses open for fear they would be profaned. Such a -cave, such a shrine, in one of our groves, for instance, how long -would it be respected? for what purposes would it be entered, by such -baboons as we are? I think of its value not only to religion, but to -philosophy and to poetry; besides a reading-room, to have a -thinking-room in every city! Perchance the time will come when every -house even will have not only its sleeping-rooms, and dining-room, and -talking-room or parlor, but its thinking-room also, and the architects -will put it into their plans. Let it be furnished and ornamented with -whatever conduces to serious and creative thought. I should not object -to the holy water, or any other simple symbol, if it were consecrated -by the imagination of the worshipers. - -I heard that some Yankees bet that the candles were not wax, but tin. -A European assured them that they were wax; but, inquiring of the -sexton, he was surprised to learn that they were tin filled with oil. -The church was too poor to afford wax. As for the Protestant churches, -here or elsewhere, they did not interest me, for it is only as caves -that churches interest me at all, and in that respect they were -inferior. - -Montreal makes the impression of a larger city than you had expected -to find, though you may have heard that it contains nearly sixty -thousand inhabitants. In the newer parts, it appeared to be growing -fast like a small New York, and to be considerably Americanized. The -names of the squares reminded you of Paris,--the Champ de Mars, the -Place d'Armes, and others,--and you felt as if a French revolution -might break out any moment. Glimpses of Mount Royal rising behind the -town, and the names of some streets in that direction, make one think -of Edinburgh. That hill sets off this city wonderfully. I inquired at -a principal bookstore for books published in Montreal. They said that -there were none but school-books and the like; they got their books -from the States. From time to time we met a priest in the streets, for -they are distinguished by their dress, like the _civil_ police. Like -clergymen generally, with or without the gown, they made on us the -impression of effeminacy. We also met some Sisters of Charity, dressed -in black, with Shaker-shaped black bonnets and crosses, and cadaverous -faces, who looked as if they had almost cried their eyes out, their -complexions parboiled with scalding tears; insulting the daylight by -their presence, having taken an oath not to smile. By cadaverous I -mean that their faces were like the faces of those who have been dead -and buried for a year, and then untombed, with the life's grief upon -them, and yet, for some unaccountable reason, the process of decay -arrested. - - "Truth never fails her servant, sir, nor leaves him - With the day's shame upon him." - -They waited demurely on the sidewalk while a truck laden with raisins -was driven in at the seminary of St. Sulpice, never once lifting their -eyes from the ground. - -The soldier here, as everywhere in Canada, appeared to be put forward, -and by his best foot. They were in the proportion of the soldiers to -the laborers in an African ant-hill. The inhabitants evidently rely on -them in a great measure for music and entertainment. You would meet -with them pacing back and forth before some guard-house or -passage-way, guarding, regarding, and disregarding all kinds of law by -turns, apparently for the sake of the discipline to themselves, and -not because it was important to exclude anybody from entering that -way. They reminded me of the men who are paid for piling up bricks and -then throwing them down again. On every prominent ledge you could see -England's hands holding the Canadas, and I judged by the redness of -her knuckles that she would soon have to let go. In the rear of such a -guard-house, in a large graveled square or parade ground, called the -Champ de Mars, we saw a large body of soldiers being drilled, we being -as yet the only spectators. But they did not appear to notice us any -more than the devotees in the church, but were seemingly as -indifferent to fewness of spectators as the phenomena of nature are, -whatever they might have been thinking under their helmets of the -Yankees that were to come. Each man wore white kid gloves. It was one -of the most interesting sights which I saw in Canada. The problem -appeared to be how to smooth down all individual protuberances or -idiosyncrasies, and make a thousand men move as one man, animated by -one central will; and there was some approach to success. They obeyed -the signals of a commander who stood at a great distance, wand in -hand; and the precision, and promptness, and harmony of their -movements could not easily have been matched. The harmony was far more -remarkable than that of any choir or band, and obtained, no doubt, at -a greater cost. They made on me the impression, not of many -individuals, but of one vast centipede of a man, good for all sorts of -pulling down; and why not then for some kinds of building up? If men -could combine thus earnestly, and patiently, and harmoniously to some -really worthy end, what might they not accomplish? They now put their -hands, and partially perchance their heads together, and the result is -that they are the imperfect tools of an imperfect and tyrannical -government. But if they could put their hands and heads and hearts and -all together, such a coöperation and harmony would be the very end and -success for which government now exists in vain,--a government, as it -were, not only with tools, but stock to trade with. - -I was obliged to frame some sentences that sounded like French in -order to deal with the market-women, who, for the most part, cannot -speak English. According to the guidebook the relative population of -this city stands nearly thus: two fifths are French-Canadian; nearly -one fifth British-Canadian; one and a half fifths English, Irish, and -Scotch; somewhat less than one half fifth Germans, United States -people, and others. I saw nothing like pie for sale, and no good cake -to put in my bundle, such as you can easily find in our towns, but -plenty of fair-looking apples, for which Montreal Island is -celebrated, and also pears cheaper and I thought better than ours, and -peaches, which, though they were probably brought from the South, were -as cheap as they commonly are with us. So imperative is the law of -demand and supply that, as I have been told, the market of Montreal is -sometimes supplied with green apples from the State of New York some -weeks even before they are ripe in the latter place. I saw here the -spruce wax which the Canadians chew, done up in little silvered -papers, a penny a roll; also a small and shriveled fruit which they -called _cerises_, mixed with many little stems, somewhat like raisins, -but I soon returned what I had bought, finding them rather insipid, -only putting a sample in my pocket. Since my return, I find on -comparison that it is the fruit of the sweet viburnum (_Viburnum -Lentago_), which with us rarely holds on till it is ripe. - -I stood on the deck of the steamer John Munn, late in the afternoon, -when the second and third ferry-boats arrived from La Prairie, -bringing the remainder of the Yankees. I never saw so many caleches, -cabs, charettes, and similar vehicles collected before, and doubt if -New York could easily furnish more. The handsome and substantial stone -quay which stretches a mile along the riverside and protects the -street from the ice was thronged with the citizens who had turned out -on foot and in carriages to welcome or to behold the Yankees. It was -interesting to see the caleche-drivers dash up and down the slope of -the quay with their active little horses. They drive much faster than -in our cities. I have been told that some of them come nine miles into -the city every morning and return every night, without changing their -horses during the day. In the midst of the crowd of carts, I observed -one deep one loaded with sheep with their legs tied together, and -their bodies piled one upon another, as if the driver had forgotten -that they were sheep and not yet mutton,--a sight, I trust, peculiar -to Canada, though I fear that it is not. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -QUEBEC AND MONTMORENCI - - -About six o'clock we started for Quebec, one hundred and eighty miles -distant by the river; gliding past Longueuil and Boucherville on the -right, and Pointe aux Trembles, "so called from having been originally -covered with aspens," and Bout de l'Isle, or the end of the island, on -the left. I repeat these names not merely for want of more substantial -facts to record, but because they sounded singularly poetic to my -ears. There certainly was no lie in them. They suggested that some -simple, and, perchance, heroic human life might have transpired there. -There is all the poetry in the world in a name. It is a poem which the -mass of men hear and read. What is poetry in the common sense, but a -string of such jingling names? I want nothing better than a good word. -The name of a thing may easily be more than the thing itself to me. -Inexpressibly beautiful appears the recognition by man of the least -natural fact, and the allying his life to it. All the world -reiterating this slender truth, that aspens once grew there; and the -swift inference is that men were there to see them. And so it would be -with the names of our native and neighboring villages, if we had not -profaned them. - -The daylight now failed us, and we went below; but I endeavored to -console myself for being obliged to make this voyage by night, by -thinking that I did not lose a great deal, the shores being low and -rather unattractive, and that the river itself was much the more -interesting object. I heard something in the night about the boat -being at William Henry, Three Rivers, and in the Richelieu Rapids, but -I was still where I had been when I lost sight of Pointe aux Trembles. -To hear a man who has been waked up at midnight in the cabin of a -steamboat inquiring, "Waiter, where are we now?" is as if, at any -moment of the earth's revolution round the sun, or of the system round -its centre, one were to raise himself up and inquire of one of the -deck hands, "Where are we now?" - -I went on deck at daybreak, when we were thirty or forty miles above -Quebec. The banks were now higher and more interesting. There was an -"uninterrupted succession of whitewashed cottages," on each side of -the river. This is what every traveler tells. But it is not to be -taken as an evidence of the populousness of the country in general, -hardly even of the river-banks. They have presented a similar -appearance for a hundred years. The Swedish traveler and naturalist -Kalm, who descended the river in 1749, says, "It could really be -called a village, beginning at Montreal and ending at Quebec, which is -a distance of more than one hundred and eighty miles; for the -farmhouses are never above five arpents, and sometimes but three -asunder, a few places excepted." Even in 1684 Hontan said that the -houses were not more than a gunshot apart at most. Ere long we passed -Cape Rouge, eight miles above Quebec, the mouth of the Chaudière on -the opposite or south side; New Liverpool Cove with its lumber-rafts -and some shipping; then Sillery and Wolfe's Cove and the Heights of -Abraham on the north, with now a view of Cape Diamond, and the citadel -in front. The approach to Quebec was very imposing. It was about six -o'clock in the morning when we arrived. There is but a single street -under the cliff on the south side of the cape, which was made by -blasting the rocks and filling up the river. Three-story houses did -not rise more than one fifth or one sixth the way up the nearly -perpendicular rock, whose summit is three hundred and forty-five feet -above the water. We saw, as we glided past, the sign on the side of -the precipice, part way up, pointing to the spot where Montgomery was -killed in 1775. Formerly it was the custom for those who went to -Quebec for the first time to be ducked, or else pay a fine. Not even -the Governor-General escaped. But we were too many to be ducked, even -if the custom had not been abolished.[1] - -Here we were, in the harbor of Quebec, still three hundred and sixty -miles from the mouth of the St. Lawrence, in a basin two miles across, -where the greatest depth is twenty-eight fathoms, and though the water -is fresh, the tide rises seventeen to twenty-four feet,--a harbor -"large and deep enough," says a British traveler, "to hold the English -navy." I may as well state that, in 1844, the county of Quebec -contained about forty-five thousand inhabitants (the city and suburbs -having about forty-three thousand),--about twenty-eight thousand being -Canadians of French origin; eight thousand British; over seven -thousand natives of Ireland; one thousand five hundred natives of -England; the rest Scotch and others. Thirty-six thousand belong to the -Church of Rome. - -Separating ourselves from the crowd, we walked up a narrow street, -thence ascended by some wooden steps, called the Break-neck Stairs, -into another steep, narrow, and zigzag street, blasted through the -rock, which last led through a low, massive stone portal, called -Prescott Gate, the principal thoroughfare into the Upper Town. This -passage was defended by cannon, with a guard-house over it, a sentinel -at his post, and other soldiers at hand ready to relieve him. I rubbed -my eyes to be sure that I was in the Nineteenth Century, and was not -entering one of those portals which sometimes adorn the frontispieces -of new editions of old black-letter volumes. I thought it would be a -good place to read Froissart's Chronicles. It was such a reminiscence -of the Middle Ages as Scott's novels. Men apparently dwelt there for -security! Peace be unto them! As if the inhabitants of New York were -to go over to Castle William to live! What a place it must be to bring -up children! Being safe through the gate, we naturally took the street -which was steepest, and after a few turns found ourselves on the -Durham Terrace, a wooden platform on the site of the old castle of St. -Louis, still one hundred and fifteen feet below the summit of the -citadel, overlooking the Lower Town, the wharf where we had landed, -the harbor, the Isle of Orleans, and the river and surrounding country -to a great distance. It was literally a _splendid_ view. We could see, -six or seven miles distant, in the northeast, an indentation in the -lofty shore of the northern channel, apparently on one side of the -harbor, which marked the mouth of the Montmorenci, whose celebrated -fall was only a few rods in the rear. - -At a shoe-shop, whither we were directed for this purpose, we got some -of our American money changed into English. I found that American hard -money would have answered as well, excepting cents, which fell very -fast before their pennies, it taking two of the former to make one of -the latter, and often the penny, which had cost us two cents, did us -the service of one cent only. Moreover, our robust cents were -compelled to meet on even terms a crew of vile half-penny tokens, and -Bungtown coppers, which had more brass in their composition, and so -perchance made their way in the world. Wishing to get into the -citadel, we were directed to the Jesuits' Barracks,--a good part of -the public buildings here are barracks,--to get a pass of the Town -Major. We did not heed the sentries at the gate, nor did they us, and -what under the sun they were placed there for, unless to hinder a free -circulation of the air, was not apparent. There we saw soldiers eating -their breakfasts in their mess-room, from bare wooden tables in camp -fashion. We were continually meeting with soldiers in the streets, -carrying funny little tin pails of all shapes, even semicircular, as -if made to pack conveniently. I supposed that they contained their -dinners,--so many slices of bread and butter to each, perchance. -Sometimes they were carrying some kind of military chest on a sort of -bier or hand-barrow, with a springy, undulating, military step, all -passengers giving way to them, even the charette-drivers stopping for -them to pass,--as if the battle were being lost from an inadequate -supply of powder. There was a regiment of Highlanders, and, as I -understood, of Royal Irish, in the city; and by this time there was a -regiment of Yankees also. I had already observed, looking up even from -the water, the head and shoulders of some General Poniatowsky, with an -enormous cocked hat and gun, peering over the roof of a house, away up -where the chimney caps commonly are with us, as it were a caricature -of war and military awfulness; but I had not gone far up St. Louis -Street before my riddle was solved, by the apparition of a real live -Highlander under a cocked hat, and with his knees out, standing and -marching sentinel on the ramparts, between St. Louis and St. John's -Gate. (It must be a holy war that is waged there.) We stood close by -without fear and looked at him. His legs were somewhat tanned, and the -hair had begun to grow on them, as some of our wise men predict that -it will in such cases, but I did not think they were remarkable in any -respect. Notwithstanding all his warlike gear, when I inquired of him -the way to the Plains of Abraham, he could not answer me without -betraying some bashfulness through his broad Scotch. Soon after, we -passed another of these creatures standing sentry at the St. Louis -Gate, who let us go by without shooting us, or even demanding the -countersign. We then began to go through the gate, which was so thick -and tunnel-like as to remind me of those lines in Claudian's "Old Man -of Verona," about the getting out of the gate being the greater part -of a journey;--as you might imagine yourself crawling through an -architectural vignette _at the end_ of a black-letter volume. We were -then reminded that we had been in a fortress, from which we emerged by -numerous zigzags in a ditch-like road, going a considerable distance -to advance a few rods, where they could have shot us two or three -times over, if their minds had been disposed as their guns were. The -greatest, or rather the most prominent, part of this city was -constructed with the design to offer the deadest resistance to leaden -and iron missiles that might be cast against it. But it is a -remarkable meteorological and psychological fact, that it is rarely -known to rain lead with much violence, except on places so -constructed. Keeping on about a mile we came to the Plains of -Abraham,--for having got through with the Saints, we came next to the -Patriarchs. Here the Highland regiment was being reviewed, while the -band stood on one side and played--methinks it was _La Claire -Fontaine_, the national air of the Canadian French. This is the site -where a real battle once took place, to commemorate which they have -had a sham fight here almost every day since. The Highlanders -manoeuvred very well, and if the precision of their movements was -less remarkable, they did not appear so stiffly erect as the English -or Royal Irish, but had a more elastic and graceful gait, like a herd -of their own red deer, or as if accustomed to stepping down the sides -of mountains. But they made a sad impression on the whole, for it was -obvious that all true manhood was in the process of being drilled out -of them. I have no doubt that soldiers well drilled are, as a class, -peculiarly destitute of originality and independence. The officers -appeared like men dressed above their condition. It is impossible to -give the soldier a good education without making him a deserter. His -natural foe is the government that drills him. What would any -philanthropist who felt an interest in these men's welfare naturally -do, but first of all teach them so to respect themselves that they -could not be hired for this work, whatever might be the consequences -to this government or that?--not drill a few, but educate all. I -observed one older man among them, gray as a wharf-rat, and supple as -the devil, marching lock-step with the rest, who would have to pay for -that elastic gait. - -We returned to the citadel along the heights, plucking such flowers as -grew there. There was an abundance of succory still in blossom, -broad-leaved goldenrod, buttercups, thorn bushes, Canada thistles, and -ivy, on the very summit of Cape Diamond. I also found the bladder -campion in the neighborhood. We there enjoyed an extensive view, which -I will describe in another place. Our pass, which stated that all the -rules were "to be strictly enforced," as if they were determined to -keep up the semblance of reality to the last gasp, opened to us the -Dalhousie Gate, and we were conducted over the citadel by a -bare-legged Highlander in cocked hat and full regimentals. He told us -that he had been here about three years, and had formerly been -stationed at Gibraltar. As if his regiment, having perchance been -nestled amid the rocks of Edinburgh Castle, must flit from rock to -rock thenceforth over the earth's surface, like a bald eagle, or other -bird of prey, from eyrie to eyrie. As we were going out, we met the -Yankees coming in, in a body headed by a red-coated officer called the -commandant, and escorted by many citizens, both English and -French-Canadian. I therefore immediately fell into the procession, and -went round the citadel again with more intelligent guides, carrying, -as before, all my effects with me. Seeing that nobody walked with the -red-coated commandant, I attached myself to him, and though I was not -what is called well-dressed, he did not know whether to repel me or -not, for I talked like one who was not aware of any deficiency in that -respect. Probably there was not one among all the Yankees who went to -Canada this time, who was not more splendidly dressed than I was. It -would have been a poor story if I had not enjoyed some distinction. I -had on my "bad-weather clothes," like Olaf Trygvesson the Northman, -when he went to the Thing in England, where, by the way, he won his -bride. As we stood by the thirty-two-pounder on the summit of Cape -Diamond, which is fired three times a day, the commandant told me that -it would carry to the Isle of Orleans, four miles distant, and that no -hostile vessel could come round the island. I now saw the subterranean -or rather "casemated" barracks of the soldiers, which I had not -noticed before, though I might have walked over them. They had very -narrow windows, serving as loop-holes for musketry, and small iron -chimneys rising above the ground. There we saw the soldiers at home -and in an undress, splitting wood,--I looked to see whether with -swords or axes,--and in various ways endeavoring to realize that their -nation was now at peace with this part of the world. A part of each -regiment, chiefly officers, are allowed to marry. A grandfatherly, -would-be witty Englishman could give a Yankee whom he was patronizing -no reason for the bare knees of the Highlanders, other than oddity. -The rock within the citadel is a little convex, so that shells falling -on it would roll toward the circumference, where the barracks of the -soldiers and officers are; it has been proposed, therefore, to make it -slightly concave, so that they may roll into the centre, where they -would be comparatively harmless; and it is estimated that to do this -would cost twenty thousand pounds sterling. It may be well to remember -this when I build my next house, and have the roof "all correct" for -bomb-shells. - -At mid-afternoon we made haste down Sault-au-Matelot Street, towards -the Falls of Montmorenci, about eight miles down the St. Lawrence, on -the north side, leaving the further examination of Quebec till our -return. On our way, we saw men in the streets sawing logs pit-fashion, -and afterward, with a common wood-saw and horse, cutting the planks -into squares for paving the streets. This looked very shiftless, -especially in a country abounding in water-power, and reminded me that -I was no longer in Yankeeland. I found, on inquiry, that the excuse -for this was that labor was so cheap; and I thought, with some pain, -how cheap men are here! I have since learned that the English traveler -Warburton remarked, soon after landing at Quebec, that everything was -cheap there but men. That must be the difference between going thither -from New and from Old England. I had already observed the dogs -harnessed to their little milk-carts, which contain a single large -can, lying asleep in the gutters regardless of the horses, while they -rested from their labors, at different stages of the ascent in the -Upper Town. I was surprised at the regular and extensive use made of -these animals for drawing not only milk but groceries, wood, etc. It -reminded me that the dog commonly is not put to any use. Cats catch -mice; but dogs only worry the cats. Kalm, a hundred years ago, saw -sledges here for ladies to ride in, drawn by a pair of dogs. He says, -"A middle-sized dog is sufficient to draw a single person, when the -roads are good;" and he was told by old people that horses were very -scarce in their youth, and almost all the land-carriage was then -effected by dogs. They made me think of the Esquimaux, who, in fact, -are the next people on the north. Charlevoix says that the first -horses were introduced in 1665. - -We crossed Dorchester Bridge, over the St. Charles, the little river -in which Cartier, the discoverer of the St. Lawrence, put his ships, -and spent the winter of 1535, and found ourselves on an excellent -macadamized road, called Le Chemin de Beauport. We had left Concord -Wednesday morning, and we endeavored to realize that now, Friday -morning, we were taking a walk in Canada, in the Seigniory of -Beauport, a foreign country, which a few days before had seemed -almost as far off as England and France. Instead of rambling to -Flint's Pond or the Sudbury meadows, we found ourselves, after being a -little detained in cars and steamboats,--after spending half a night -at Burlington, and half a day at Montreal,--taking a walk down the -bank of the St. Lawrence to the Falls of Montmorenci and elsewhere. -Well, I thought to myself, here I am in a foreign country; let me have -my eyes about me, and take it all in. It already looked and felt a -good deal colder than it had in New England, as we might have expected -it would. I realized fully that I was four degrees nearer the pole, -and shuddered at the thought; and I wondered if it were possible that -the peaches might not be all gone when I returned. It was an -atmosphere that made me think of the fur-trade, which is so -interesting a department in Canada, for I had for all head-covering a -thin palm-leaf hat without lining, that cost twenty-five cents, and -over my coat one of those unspeakably cheap, as well as thin, brown -linen sacks of the Oak Hall pattern, which every summer appear all -over New England, thick as the leaves upon the trees. It was a -thoroughly Yankee costume, which some of my fellow-travelers wore in -the cars to save their coats a dusting. I wore mine, at first, because -it looked better than the coat it covered, and last, because two coats -were warmer than one, though one was thin and dirty. I never wear my -best coat on a journey, though perchance I could show a certificate to -prove that I have a more costly one, at least, at home, if that were -all that a gentleman required. It is not wise for a traveler to go -dressed. I should no more think of it than of putting on a clean -dicky and blacking my shoes to go a-fishing; as if you were going out -to dine, when, in fact, the genuine traveler is going out to work -hard, and fare harder,--to eat a crust by the wayside whenever he can -get it. Honest traveling is about as dirty work as you can do, and a -man needs a pair of overalls for it. As for blacking my shoes in such -a case, I should as soon think of blacking my face. I carry a piece of -tallow to preserve the leather and keep out the water; that's all; and -many an officious shoe-black, who carried off my shoes when I was -slumbering, mistaking me for a gentleman, has had occasion to repent -it before he produced a gloss on them. - -My pack, in fact, was soon made, for I keep a short list of those -articles which, from frequent experience, I have found indispensable -to the foot-traveler; and, when I am about to start, I have only to -consult that, to be sure that nothing is omitted, and, what is more -important, nothing superfluous inserted. Most of my fellow-travelers -carried carpet-bags, or valises. Sometimes one had two or three -ponderous yellow valises in his clutch, at each hitch of the cars, as -if we were going to have another rush for seats; and when there was a -rush in earnest,--and there were not a few,--I would see my man in the -crowd, with two or three affectionate lusty fellows along each side of -his arm, between his shoulder and his valises, which last held them -tight to his back, like the nut on the end of a screw. I could not -help asking in my mind, What so great cause for showing Canada to -those valises, when perhaps your very nieces had to stay at home for -want of an escort? I should have liked to be present when the -custom-house officer came aboard of him, and asked him to declare upon -his honor if he had anything but wearing apparel in them. Even the -elephant carries but a small trunk on his journeys. The perfection of -traveling is to travel without baggage. After considerable reflection -and experience, I have concluded that the best bag for the -foot-traveler is made with a handkerchief, or, if he study -appearances, a piece of stiff brown paper, well tied up, with a fresh -piece within to put outside when the first is torn. That is good for -both town and country, and none will know but you are carrying home -the silk for a new gown for your wife, when it may be a dirty shirt. A -bundle which you can carry literally under your arm, and which will -shrink and swell with its contents. I never found the carpet-bag of -equal capacity which was not a bundle of itself. We styled ourselves -the Knights of the Umbrella and the Bundle; for, wherever we went, -whether to Notre Dame or Mount Royal or the Champ de Mars, to the Town -Major's or the Bishop's Palace, to the Citadel, with a bare-legged -Highlander for our escort, or to the Plains of Abraham, to dinner or -to bed, the umbrella and the bundle went with us; for we wished to be -ready to digress at any moment. We made it our home nowhere in -particular, but everywhere where our umbrella and bundle were. It -would have been an amusing circumstance, if the mayor of one of those -cities had politely asked us where we were staying. We could only have -answered that we were staying with his honor for the time being. I was -amused when, after our return, some green ones inquired if we found it -easy to get accommodated; as if we went abroad to get accommodated, -when we can get that at home. - -We met with many charettes, bringing wood and stone to the city. The -most ordinary-looking horses traveled faster than ours, or perhaps -they were ordinary-looking because, as I am told, the Canadians do not -use the curry-comb. Moreover, it is said that on the approach of -winter their horses acquire an increased quantity of hair, to protect -them from the cold. If this be true, some of our horses would make you -think winter were approaching, even in midsummer. We soon began to see -women and girls at work in the fields, digging potatoes alone, or -bundling up the grain which the men cut. They appeared in rude health, -with a great deal of color in their cheeks, and, if their occupation -had made them coarse, it impressed me as better in its effects than -making shirts at fourpence apiece, or doing nothing at all--unless it -be chewing slate-pencils--with still smaller results. They were much -more agreeable objects, with their great broad-brimmed hats and -flowing dresses, than the men and boys. We afterwards saw them doing -various other kinds of work; indeed, I thought that we saw more women -at work out of doors than men. On our return, we observed in this town -a girl, with Indian boots nearly two feet high, taking the harness off -a dog. - -The purity and transparency of the atmosphere were wonderful. When we -had been walking an hour, we were surprised, on turning round, to see -how near the city, with its glittering tin roofs, still looked. A -village ten miles off did not appear to be more than three or four. I -was convinced that you could see objects distinctly there much -farther than here. It is true the villages are of a dazzling white, -but the dazzle is to be referred, perhaps, to the transparency of the -atmosphere as much as to the whitewash. - -We were now fairly in the village of Beauport, though there was still -but one road. The houses stood close upon this, without any front -yards, and at an angle with it, as if they had dropped down, being set -with more reference to the road which the sun travels. It being about -sundown, and the falls not far off, we began to look round for a -lodging, for we preferred to put up at a private house, that we might -see more of the inhabitants. We inquired first at the most -promising-looking houses,--if, indeed, any were promising. When we -knocked, they shouted some French word for come in, perhaps _Entrez_, -and we asked for a lodging in English; but we found, unexpectedly, -that they spoke French only. Then we went along and tried another -house, being generally saluted by a rush of two or three little curs, -which readily distinguished a foreigner, and which we were prepared -now to hear bark in French. Our first question would be "Parlez-vous -Anglais?" but the invariable answer was "Non, monsieur;" and we soon -found that the inhabitants were exclusively French Canadians, and -nobody spoke English at all, any more than in France; that, in fact, -we were in a foreign country, where the inhabitants uttered not one -familiar sound to us. Then we tried by turns to talk French with them, -in which we succeeded sometimes pretty well, but for the most part -pretty ill. "Pouvez-vous nous donner un lit cette nuit?" we would -ask, and then they would answer with French volubility, so that we -could catch only a word here and there. We could understand the women -and children generally better than the men, and they us; and thus, -after a while, we would learn that they had no more beds than they -used. - -So we were compelled to inquire, "Y a-t-il une maison publique ici?" -(_auberge_ we should have said, perhaps, for they seemed never to have -heard of the other), and they answered at length that there was no -tavern, unless we could get lodgings at the mill, _le moulin_, which -we had passed; or they would direct us to a grocery, and almost every -house had a small grocery at one end of it. We called on the public -notary or village lawyer, but he had no more beds nor English than the -rest. At one house there was so good a misunderstanding at once -established through the politeness of all parties, that we were -encouraged to walk in and sit down, and ask for a glass of water; and -having drank their water, we thought it was as good as to have tasted -their salt. When our host and his wife spoke of their poor -accommodations, meaning for themselves, we assured them that they were -good enough, for we thought that they were only apologizing for the -poorness of the accommodations they were about to offer us, and we did -not discover our mistake till they took us up a ladder into a loft, -and showed to our eyes what they had been laboring in vain to -communicate to our brains through our ears, that they had but that one -apartment with its few beds for the whole family. We made our _adieus_ -forthwith, and with gravity, perceiving the literal signification of -that word. We were finally taken in at a sort of public house, whose -master worked for Patterson, the proprietor of the extensive sawmills -driven by a portion of the Montmorenci stolen from the fall, whose -roar we now heard. We here talked, or murdered, French all the -evening, with the master of the house and his family, and probably had -a more amusing time than if we had completely understood one another. -At length they showed us to a bed in their best chamber, very high to -get into, with a low wooden rail to it. It had no cotton sheets, but -coarse, home-made, dark-colored linen ones. Afterward, we had to do -with sheets still coarser than these, and nearly the color of our -blankets. There was a large open buffet loaded with crockery in one -corner of the room, as if to display their wealth to travelers, and -pictures of Scripture scenes, French, Italian, and Spanish, hung -around. Our hostess came back directly to inquire if we would have -brandy for breakfast. The next morning, when I asked their names, she -took down the temperance pledges of herself and husband and children, -which were hanging against the wall. They were Jean Baptiste Binet and -his wife, Geneviève Binet. Jean Baptiste is the sobriquet of the -French Canadians. - -After breakfast we proceeded to the fall, which was within half a -mile, and at this distance its rustling sound, like the wind among the -leaves, filled all the air. We were disappointed to find that we were -in some measure shut out from the west side of the fall by the private -grounds and fences of Patterson, who appropriates not only a part of -the water for his mill, but a still larger part of the prospect, so -that we were obliged to trespass. This gentleman's mansion-house and -grounds were formerly occupied by the Duke of Kent, father to Queen -Victoria. It appeared to me in bad taste for an individual, though he -were the father of Queen Victoria, to obtrude himself with his land -titles, or at least his fences, on so remarkable a natural phenomenon, -which should, in every sense, belong to mankind. Some falls should -even be kept sacred from the intrusion of mills and factories, as -water privileges in another than the millwright's sense. This small -river falls perpendicularly nearly two hundred and fifty feet at one -pitch. The St. Lawrence falls only one hundred and sixty-four feet at -Niagara. It is a very simple and noble fall, and leaves nothing to be -desired; but the most that I could say of it would only have the force -of one other testimony to assure the reader that it is there. We -looked directly down on it from the point of a projecting rock, and -saw far below us, on a low promontory, the grass kept fresh and green -by the perpetual drizzle, looking like moss. The rock is a kind of -slate, in the crevices of which grew ferns and goldenrods. The -prevailing trees on the shores were spruce and arbor-vitæ,--the latter -very large and now full of fruit,--also aspens, alders, and the -mountain-ash with its berries. Every emigrant who arrives in this -country by way of the St. Lawrence, as he opens a point of the Isle of -Orleans, sees the Montmorenci tumbling into the Great River thus -magnificently in a vast white sheet, making its contribution with -emphasis. Roberval's pilot, Jean Alphonse, saw this fall thus, and -described it, in 1542. It is a splendid introduction to the scenery of -Quebec. Instead of an artificial fountain in its square, Quebec has -this magnificent natural waterfall, to adorn one side of its harbor. -Within the mouth of the chasm below, which can be entered only at -ebb-tide, we had a grand view at once of Quebec and of the fall. Kalm -says that the noise of the fall is sometimes heard at Quebec, about -eight miles distant, and is a sign of a northeast wind. The side of -this chasm, of soft and crumbling slate too steep to climb, was among -the memorable features of the scene. In the winter of 1829 the frozen -spray of the fall, descending on the ice of the St. Lawrence, made a -hill one hundred and twenty-six feet high. It is an annual phenomenon -which some think may help explain the formation of glaciers. - -In the vicinity of the fall we began to notice what looked like our -red-fruited thorn bushes, grown to the size of ordinary apple trees, -very common, and full of large red or yellow fruit, which the -inhabitants called _pommettes_, but I did not learn that they were put -to any use. - -FOOTNOTE: - -[1] Hierosme Lalemant says in 1648, in his Relation, he being -Superior: "All those who come to New France know well enough the -mountain of Notre Dame, because the pilots and sailors, being arrived -at that part of the Great River which is opposite to those high -mountains, baptize ordinarily for sport the new passengers, if they do -not turn aside by some present the inundation of this baptism which -one makes flow plentifully on their heads." - - - - -CHAPTER III - -ST. ANNE - - -By the middle of the forenoon, though it was a rainy day, we were once -more on our way down the north bank of the St. Lawrence, in a -northeasterly direction, toward the Falls of St. Anne, which are about -thirty miles from Quebec. The settled, more level, and fertile portion -of Canada East may be described rudely as a triangle, with its apex -slanting toward the northeast, about one hundred miles wide at its -base, and from two to three or even four hundred miles long, if you -reckon its narrow northeastern extremity; it being the immediate -valley of the St. Lawrence and its tributaries, rising by a single or -by successive terraces toward the mountains on either hand. Though the -words Canada East on the map stretch over many rivers and lakes and -unexplored wildernesses, the actual Canada, which might be the colored -portion of the map, is but a little clearing on the banks of the -river, which one of those syllables would more than cover. The banks -of the St. Lawrence are rather low from Montreal to the Richelieu -Rapids, about forty miles above Quebec. Thence they rise gradually to -Cape Diamond, or Quebec. Where we now were, eight miles northeast of -Quebec, the mountains which form the northern side of this triangle -were only five or six miles distant from the river, gradually -departing farther and farther from it, on the west, till they reach -the Ottawa, and making haste to meet it on the east, at Cape -Tourmente, now in plain sight about twenty miles distant. So that we -were traveling in a very narrow and sharp triangle between the -mountains and the river, tilted up toward the mountains on the north, -never losing sight of our great fellow-traveler on our right. -According to Bouchette's Topographical Description of the Canadas, we -were in the Seigniory of the Côte de Beaupré, in the county of -Montmorenci, and the district of Quebec,--in that part of Canada which -was the first to be settled, and where the face of the country and the -population have undergone the least change from the beginning, where -the influence of the States and of Europe is least felt, and the -inhabitants see little or nothing of the world over the walls of -Quebec. This Seigniory was granted in 1636, and is now the property of -the Seminary of Quebec. It is the most mountainous one in the -province. There are some half a dozen parishes in it, each containing -a church, parsonage-house, gristmill, and several sawmills. We were -now in the most westerly parish, called Ange Gardien, or the Guardian -Angel, which is bounded on the west by the Montmorenci. The north bank -of the St. Lawrence here is formed on a grand scale. It slopes gently, -either directly from the shore or from the edge of an interval, till, -at the distance of about a mile, it attains the height of four or five -hundred feet. The single road runs along the side of the slope two or -three hundred feet above the river at first, and from a quarter of a -mile to a mile distant from it, and affords fine views of the north -channel, which is about a mile wide, and of the beautiful Isle of -Orleans, about twenty miles long by five wide, where grow the best -apples and plums in the Quebec district. - -Though there was but this single road, it was a continuous village for -as far as we walked this day and the next, or about thirty miles down -the river, the houses being as near together all the way as in the -middle of one of our smallest straggling country villages, and we -could never tell by their number when we were on the skirts of a -parish, for the road never ran through the fields or woods. We were -told that it was just six miles from one parish church to another. I -thought that we saw every house in Ange Gardien. Therefore, as it was -a muddy day, we never got out of the mud, nor out of the village, -unless we got over the fence; then, indeed, if it was on the north -side, we were out of the civilized world. There were sometimes a few -more houses near the church, it is true, but we had only to go a -quarter of a mile from the road, to the top of the bank, to find -ourselves on the verge of the uninhabited, and, for the most part, -unexplored wilderness stretching toward Hudson's Bay. The farms -accordingly were extremely long and narrow, each having a frontage on -the river. Bouchette accounts for this peculiar manner of laying out a -village by referring to "the social character of the Canadian peasant, -who is singularly fond of neighborhood," also to the advantage arising -from a concentration of strength in Indian times. Each farm, called -_terre_, he says, is, in nine cases out of ten, three arpents wide by -thirty deep, that is, very nearly thirty-five by three hundred and -forty-nine of our rods; sometimes one half arpent by thirty, or one to -sixty; sometimes, in fact, a few yards by half a mile. Of course it -costs more for fences. A remarkable difference between the Canadian -and the New England character appears from the fact that, in 1745, the -French government were obliged to pass a law forbidding the farmers or -_censitaires_ building on land less than one and a half arpents front -by thirty or forty deep, under a certain penalty, in order to compel -emigration, and bring the seigneur's estates all under cultivation; -and it is thought that they have now less reluctance to leave the -paternal roof than formerly, "removing beyond the sight of the parish -spire, or the sound of the parish bell." But I find that in the -previous or seventeenth century, the complaint, often renewed, was of -a totally opposite character, namely, that the inhabitants dispersed -and exposed themselves to the Iroquois. Accordingly, about 1664, the -king was obliged to order that "they should make no more clearings -except one next to another, and that they should reduce their parishes -to the form of the parishes in France as much as possible." The -Canadians of those days, at least, possessed a roving spirit of -adventure which carried them further, in exposure to hardship and -danger, than ever the New England colonist went, and led them, though -not to clear and colonize the wilderness, yet to range over it as -_coureurs de bois_, or runners of the woods, or, as Hontan prefers to -call them, _coureurs de risques_, runners of risks; to say nothing of -their enterprising priesthood; and Charlevoix thinks that if the -authorities had taken the right steps to prevent the youth from -ranging the woods (_de courir les bois_), they would have had an -excellent militia to fight the Indians and English. - -The road in this clayey-looking soil was exceedingly muddy in -consequence of the night's rain. We met an old woman directing her -dog, which was harnessed to a little cart, to the least muddy part of -it. It was a beggarly sight. But harnessed to the cart as he was, we -heard him barking after we had passed, though we looked anywhere but -to the cart to see where the dog was that barked. The houses commonly -fronted the south, whatever angle they might make with the road; and -frequently they had no door nor cheerful window on the road side. Half -the time they stood fifteen to forty rods from the road, and there was -no very obvious passage to them, so that you would suppose that there -must be another road running by them. They were of stone, rather -coarsely mortared, but neatly whitewashed, almost invariably one story -high and long in proportion to their height, with a shingled roof, the -shingles being pointed, for ornament, at the eaves, like the pickets -of a fence, and also one row halfway up the roof. The gables sometimes -projected a foot or two at the ridge-pole only. Yet they were very -humble and unpretending dwellings. They commonly had the date of their -erection on them. The windows opened in the middle, like blinds, and -were frequently provided with solid shutters. Sometimes, when we -walked along the back side of a house which stood near the road, we -observed stout stakes leaning against it, by which the shutters, now -pushed half open, were fastened at night; within, the houses were -neatly ceiled with wood not painted. The oven was commonly out of -doors, built of stone and mortar, frequently on a raised platform of -planks. The cellar was often on the opposite side of the road, in -front of or behind the houses, looking like an ice-house with us, with -a lattice door for summer. The very few mechanics whom we met had an -old-Bettyish look, in their aprons and _bonnets rouges_ like fools' -caps. The men wore commonly the same _bonnet rouge_, or red woolen or -worsted cap, or sometimes blue or gray, looking to us as if they had -got up with their night-caps on, and, in fact, I afterwards found that -they had. Their clothes were of the cloth of the country, _étoffe du -pays_, gray or some other plain color. The women looked stout, with -gowns that stood out stiffly, also, for the most part, apparently of -some home-made stuff. We also saw some specimens of the more -characteristic winter dress of the Canadian, and I have since -frequently detected him in New England by his coarse gray homespun -capote and picturesque red sash, and his well-furred cap, made to -protect his ears against the severity of his climate. - -It drizzled all day, so that the roads did not improve. We began now -to meet with wooden crosses frequently, by the roadside, about a dozen -feet high, often old and toppling down, sometimes standing in a square -wooden platform, sometimes in a pile of stones, with a little niche -containing a picture of the Virgin and Child, or of Christ alone, -sometimes with a string of beads, and covered with a piece of glass to -keep out the rain, with the words, _Pour la Vierge_, or INRI, on them. -Frequently, on the cross-bar, there would be quite a collection of -symbolical knickknacks, looking like an Italian's board; the -representation in wood of a hand, a hammer, spikes, pincers, a flask -of vinegar, a ladder, etc., the whole, perchance, surmounted by a -weathercock; but I could not look at an honest weathercock in this -walk without mistrusting that there was some covert reference in it to -St. Peter. From time to time we passed a little one-story chapel-like -building, with a tin-roofed spire, a shrine, perhaps it would be -called, close to the path-side, with a lattice door, through which we -could see an altar, and pictures about the walls; equally open, -through rain and shine, though there was no getting into it. At these -places the inhabitants kneeled and perhaps breathed a short prayer. We -saw one schoolhouse in our walk, and listened to the sounds which -issued from it; but it appeared like a place where the process, not of -enlightening, but of obfuscating the mind was going on, and the pupils -received only so much light as could penetrate the shadow of the -Catholic Church. The churches were very picturesque, and their -interior much more showy than the dwelling-houses promised. They were -of stone, for it was ordered, in 1699, that that should be their -material. They had tinned spires, and quaint ornaments. That of Ange -Gardien had a dial on it, with the Middle Age Roman numerals on its -face, and some images in niches on the outside. Probably its -counterpart has existed in Normandy for a thousand years. At the -church of Château Richer, which is the next parish to Ange Gardien, we -read, looking over the wall, the inscriptions in the adjacent -churchyard, which began with _Ici gît_ or _Repose_, and one over a boy -contained _Priez pour lui_. This answered as well as Père la Chaise. -We knocked at the door of the curé's house here, when a sleek, -friar-like personage, in his sacerdotal robe, appeared. To our -"Parlez-vous Anglais?" even he answered, "Non, monsieur;" but at last -we made him understand what we wanted. It was to find the ruins of the -old _château_. "Ah! oui! oui!" he exclaimed, and, donning his coat, -hastened forth, and conducted us to a small heap of rubbish which we -had already examined. He said that fifteen years before, it was _plus -considérable_. Seeing at that moment three little red birds fly out of -a crevice in the ruins, up into an arbor-vitæ tree which grew out of -them, I asked him their names, in such French as I could muster, but -he neither understood me nor ornithology; he only inquired where we -had _appris à parler Français_; we told him, _dans les États-Unis_; -and so we bowed him into his house again. I was surprised to find a -man wearing a black coat, and with apparently no work to do, even in -that part of the world. - -The universal salutation from the inhabitants whom we met was _bon -jour_, at the same time touching the hat; with _bon jour_, and -touching your hat, you may go smoothly through all Canada East. A -little boy, meeting us, would remark, "Bon jour, monsieur; le chemin -est mauvais" (Good morning, sir; it is bad walking). Sir Francis Head -says that the immigrant is forward to "appreciate the happiness of -living in a land in which the old country's servile custom of touching -the hat does not exist," but he was thinking of Canada West, of -course. It would, indeed, be a serious bore to be obliged to touch -your hat several times a day. A Yankee has not leisure for it. - -We saw peas, and even beans, collected into heaps in the fields. The -former are an important crop here, and, I suppose, are not so much -infested by the weevil as with us. There were plenty of apples, very -fair and sound, by the roadside, but they were so small as to suggest -the origin of the apple in the crab. There was also a small, red fruit -which they called _snells_, and another, also red and very acid, whose -name a little boy wrote for me, "_pinbéna_." It is probably the same -with, or similar to, the _pembina_ of the voyageurs, a species of -viburnum, which, according to Richardson, has given its name to many -of the rivers of Rupert's Land. The forest trees were spruce, -arbor-vitæ, firs, birches, beeches, two or three kinds of maple, -basswood, wild cherry, aspens, etc., but no pitch pines (_Pinus -rigida_). I saw very few, if any, trees which had been set out for -shade or ornament. The water was commonly running streams or springs -in the bank by the roadside, and was excellent. The parishes are -commonly separated by a stream, and frequently the farms. I noticed -that the fields were furrowed or thrown into beds seven or eight feet -wide to dry the soil. - -At the Rivière du Sault à la Puce, which, I suppose, means the River -of the Fall of the Flea, was advertised in English, as the sportsmen -are English, "The best Snipe-shooting grounds," over the door of a -small public house. These words being English affected me as if I had -been absent now ten years from my country, and for so long had not -heard the sound of my native language, and every one of them was as -interesting to me as if I had been a snipe-shooter, and they had been -snipes. The prunella, or self-heal, in the grass here, was an old -acquaintance. We frequently saw the inhabitants washing or cooking -for their pigs, and in one place hackling flax by the roadside. It was -pleasant to see these usually domestic operations carried on out of -doors, even in that cold country. - -At twilight we reached a bridge over a little river, the boundary -between Château Richer and St. Anne, _le premier pont de Ste. Anne_, -and at dark the church of _La Bonne Ste. Anne_. Formerly vessels from -France, when they came in sight of this church, gave "a general -discharge of their artillery," as a sign of joy that they had escaped -all the dangers of the river. Though all the while we had grand views -of the adjacent country far up and down the river, and, for the most -part, when we turned about, of Quebec in the horizon behind us, and we -never beheld it without new surprise and admiration; yet, throughout -our walk, the Great River of Canada on our right hand was the main -feature in the landscape, and this expands so rapidly below the Isle -of Orleans, and creates such a breadth of level horizon above its -waters in that direction, that, looking down the river as we -approached the extremity of that island, the St. Lawrence seemed to be -opening into the ocean, though we were still about three hundred and -twenty-five miles from what can be called its mouth.[2] - -When we inquired here for a _maison publique_ we were directed -apparently to that private house where we were most likely to find -entertainment. There were no guide-boards where we walked, because -there was but one road; there were no shops nor signs, because there -were no artisans to speak of, and the people raised their own -provisions; and there were no taverns, because there were no -travelers. We here bespoke lodging and breakfast. They had, as usual, -a large, old-fashioned, two-storied box stove in the middle of the -room, out of which, in due time, there was sure to be forthcoming a -supper, breakfast, or dinner. The lower half held the fire, the upper -the hot air, and as it was a cool Canadian evening, this was a -comforting sight to us. Being four or five feet high it warmed the -whole person as you stood by it. The stove was plainly a very -important article of furniture in Canada, and was not set aside during -the summer. Its size, and the respect which was paid to it, told of -the severe winters which it had seen and prevailed over. The master of -the house, in his long-pointed red woolen cap, had a thoroughly -antique physiognomy of the old Norman stamp. He might have come over -with Jacques Cartier. His was the hardest French to understand of any -we had heard yet, for there was a great difference between one speaker -and another, and this man talked with a pipe in his mouth beside,--a -kind of tobacco French. I asked him what he called his dog. He shouted -_Brock_! (the name of the breed). We like to hear the cat called -_min_, "Min! min! min!" I inquired if we could cross the river here to -the Isle of Orleans, thinking to return that way when we had been to -the falls. He answered, "S'il ne fait pas un trop grand vent" (If -there is not too much wind). They use small boats, or pirogues, and -the waves are often too high for them. He wore, as usual, something -between a moccasin and a boot, which he called _bottes Indiennes_, -Indian boots, and had made himself. The tops were of calf or -sheepskin, and the soles of cowhide turned up like a moccasin. They -were yellow or reddish, the leather never having been tanned nor -colored. The women wore the same. He told us that he had traveled ten -leagues due north into the bush. He had been to the Falls of St. Anne, -and said that they were more beautiful, but not greater, than -Montmorenci, _plus beau, mais non plus grand, que Montmorenci_. As -soon as we had retired, the family commenced their devotions. A little -boy officiated, and for a long time we heard him muttering over his -prayers. - -In the morning, after a breakfast of tea, maple-sugar, bread and -butter, and what I suppose is called _potage_ (potatoes and meat -boiled with flour), the universal dish as we found, perhaps the -national one, I ran over to the Church of La Bonne Ste. Anne, whose -matin bell we had heard, it being Sunday morning. Our book said that -this church had "long been an object of interest, from the miraculous -cures said to have been wrought on visitors to the shrine." There was -a profusion of gilding, and I counted more than twenty-five crutches -suspended on the walls, some for grown persons, some for children, -which it was to be inferred so many sick had been able to dispense -with; but they looked as if they had been made to order by the -carpenter who made the church. There were one or two villagers at -their devotions at that early hour, who did not look up, but when they -had sat a long time with their little book before the picture of one -saint, went to another. Our whole walk was through a thoroughly -Catholic country, and there was no trace of any other religion. I -doubt if there are any more simple and unsophisticated Catholics -anywhere. Emery de Caen, Champlain's contemporary, told the Huguenot -sailors that "Monseigneur the Duke de Ventadour (Viceroy) did not wish -that they should sing psalms in the Great River." - -On our way to the falls, we met the habitans coming to the Church of -La Bonne Ste. Anne, walking or riding in charettes by families. I -remarked that they were universally of small stature. The toll-man at -the bridge over the St. Anne was the first man we had chanced to meet, -since we left Quebec, who could speak a word of English. How good -French the inhabitants of this part of Canada speak, I am not -competent to say; I only know that it is not made impure by being -mixed with English. I do not know why it should not be as good as is -spoken in Normandy. Charlevoix, who was here a hundred years ago, -observes, "The French language is nowhere spoken with greater purity, -there being no accent perceptible;" and Potherie said "they had no -dialect, which, indeed, is generally lost in a colony." - -The falls, which we were in search of, are three miles up the St. -Anne. We followed for a short distance a foot-path up the east bank of -this river, through handsome sugar maple and arbor-vitæ groves. Having -lost the path which led to a house where we were to get further -directions, we dashed at once into the woods, steering by guess and by -compass, climbing directly through woods a steep hill, or mountain, -five or six hundred feet high, which was, in fact, only the bank of -the St. Lawrence. Beyond this we by good luck fell into another path, -and following this or a branch of it, at our discretion, through a -forest consisting of large white pines,--the first we had seen in our -walk,--we at length heard the roar of falling water, and came out at -the head of the Falls of St. Anne. We had descended into a ravine or -cleft in the mountain, whose walls rose still a hundred feet above us, -though we were near its top, and we now stood on a very rocky shore, -where the water had lately flowed a dozen feet higher, as appeared by -the stones and driftwood, and large birches twisted and splintered as -a farmer twists a withe. Here the river, one or two hundred feet wide, -came flowing rapidly over a rocky bed out of that interesting -wilderness which stretches toward Hudson's Bay and Davis's Straits. -Ha-ha Bay, on the Saguenay, was about one hundred miles north of where -we stood. Looking on the map, I find that the first country on the -north which bears a name is that part of Rupert's Land called East -Main. This river, called after the holy Anne, flowing from such a -direction, here tumbled over a precipice, at present by three -channels, how far down I do not know, but far enough for all our -purposes, and to as good a distance as if twice as far. It matters -little whether you call it one, or two, or three hundred feet; at any -rate, it was a sufficient water privilege for us. I crossed the -principal channel directly over the verge of the fall, where it was -contracted to about fifteen feet in width, by a dead tree which had -been dropped across and secured in a cleft of the opposite rock, and -a smaller one a few feet higher, which served for a hand-rail. This -bridge was rotten as well as small and slippery, being stripped of -bark, and I was obliged to seize a moment to pass when the falling -water did not surge over it, and midway, though at the expense of wet -feet, I looked down probably more than a hundred feet, into the mist -and foam below. This gave me the freedom of an island of precipitous -rock by which I descended as by giant steps,--the rock being composed -of large cubical masses, clothed with delicate close-hugging lichens -of various colors, kept fresh and bright by the moisture,--till I -viewed the first fall from the front, and looked down still deeper to -where the second and third channels fell into a remarkably large -circular basin worn in the stone. The falling water seemed to jar the -very rocks, and the noise to be ever increasing. The vista down-stream -was through a narrow and deep cleft in the mountain, all white suds at -the bottom; but a sudden angle in this gorge prevented my seeing -through to the bottom of the fall. Returning to the shore, I made my -way down-stream through the forest to see how far the fall extended, -and how the river came out of that adventure. It was to clamber along -the side of a precipitous mountain of loose mossy rocks, covered with -a damp primitive forest, and terminating at the bottom in an abrupt -precipice over the stream. This was the east side of the fall. At -length, after a quarter of a mile, I got down to still water, and, on -looking up through the winding gorge, I could just see to the foot of -the fall which I had before examined; while from the opposite side of -the stream, here much contracted, rose a perpendicular wall, I will -not venture to say how many hundred feet, but only that it was the -highest perpendicular wall of bare rock that I ever saw. In front of -me tumbled in from the summit of the cliff a tributary stream, making -a beautiful cascade, which was a remarkable fall in itself, and there -was a cleft in this precipice, apparently four or five feet wide, -perfectly straight up and down from top to bottom, which, from its -cavernous depth and darkness, appeared merely as _a black streak_. -This precipice is not sloped, nor is the material soft and crumbling -slate as at Montmorenci, but it rises perpendicular, like the side of -a mountain fortress, and is cracked into vast cubical masses of gray -and black rock shining with moisture, as if it were the ruin of an -ancient wall built by Titans. Birches, spruces, mountain-ashes with -their bright red berries, arbor-vitæs, white pines, alders, etc., -overhung this chasm on the very verge of the cliff and in the -crevices, and here and there were buttresses of rock supporting trees -part way down, yet so as to enhance, not injure, the effect of the -bare rock. Take it altogether, it was a most wild and rugged and -stupendous chasm, so deep and narrow, where a river had worn itself a -passage through a mountain of rock, and all around was the -comparatively untrodden wilderness. - -This was the limit of our walk down the St. Lawrence. Early in the -afternoon we began to retrace our steps, not being able to cross the -north channel and return by the Isle of Orleans, on account of the -_trop grand vent_, or too great wind. Though the waves did run pretty -high, it was evident that the inhabitants of Montmorenci County were -no sailors, and made but little use of the river. When we reached the -bridge between St. Anne and Château Richer, I ran back a little way to -ask a man in the field the name of the river which we were crossing, -but for a long time I could not make out what he said, for he was one -of the more unintelligible Jacques Cartier men. At last it flashed -upon me that it was _La Rivière au Chien_, or the Dog River, which my -eyes beheld, which brought to my mind the life of the Canadian -voyageur and _coureur de bois_, a more western and wilder Arcadia, -methinks, than the world has ever seen; for the Greeks, with all their -wood and river gods, were not so qualified to name the natural -features of a country as the ancestors of these French Canadians; and -if any people had a right to substitute their own for the Indian -names, it was they. They have preceded the pioneer on our own -frontiers, and named the _prairie_ for us. _La Rivière au Chien_ -cannot, by any license of language, be translated into Dog River, for -that is not such a giving it to the dogs, and recognizing their place -in creation, as the French implies. One of the tributaries of the St. -Anne is named _La Rivière de la Rose_; and farther east are _La -Rivière de la Blondelle_ and _La Rivière de la Friponne_. Their very -_rivière_ meanders more than our _river_. - -Yet the impression which this country made on me was commonly -different from this. To a traveler from the Old World, Canada East may -appear like a new country, and its inhabitants like colonists, but to -me, coming from New England and being a very green traveler -withal,--notwithstanding what I have said about Hudson's Bay,--it -appeared as old as Normandy itself, and realized much that I had heard -of Europe and the Middle Ages. Even the names of humble Canadian -villages affected me as if they had been those of the renowned cities -of antiquity. To be told by a habitan, when I asked the name of a -village in sight, that it is _St. Feréol_ or _St. Anne_, the _Guardian -Angel_ or the _Holy Joseph's_; or of a mountain, that it was _Bélange_ -or _St. Hyacinthe_! As soon as you leave the States, these saintly -names begin. _St. Johns_ is the first town you stop at (fortunately we -did not see it), and thenceforward, the names of the mountains, and -streams, and villages reel, if I may so speak, with the intoxication -of poetry,--_Chambly_, _Longueuil_, _Pointe aux Trembles_, -_Bartholomy_, etc., etc.; as if it needed only a little foreign -accent, a few more liquids and vowels perchance in the language, to -make us locate our ideals at once. I began to dream of Provence and -the Troubadours, and of places and things which have no existence on -the earth. They veiled the Indian and the primitive forest, and the -woods toward Hudson's Bay were only as the forests of France and -Germany. I could not at once bring myself to believe that the -inhabitants who pronounced daily those beautiful and, to me, -significant names lead as prosaic lives as we of New England. In -short, the Canada which I saw was not merely a place for railroads to -terminate in and for criminals to run to. - -When I asked the man to whom I have referred, if there were any falls -on the Rivière au Chien,--for I saw that it came over the same high -bank with the Montmorenci and St. Anne,--he answered that there were. -How far? I inquired. "Trois quatres lieue." How high? "Je -pense-quatre-vingt-dix pieds;" that is, ninety feet. We turned aside -to look at the falls of the Rivière du Sault à la Puce, half a mile -from the road, which before we had passed in our haste and ignorance, -and we pronounced them as beautiful as any that we saw; yet they -seemed to make no account of them there, and, when first we inquired -the way to the falls, directed us to Montmorenci, seven miles distant. -It was evident that this was the country for waterfalls; that every -stream that empties into the St. Lawrence, for some hundreds of miles, -must have a great fall or cascade on it, and in its passage through -the mountains was, for a short distance, a small Saguenay, with its -upright walls. This fall of La Puce, the least remarkable of the four -which we visited in this vicinity, we had never heard of till we came -to Canada, and yet, so far as I know, there is nothing of the kind in -New England to be compared with it. Most travelers in Canada would not -hear of it, though they might go so near as to hear it. Since my -return I find that in the topographical description of the country -mention is made of "two or three romantic falls" on this stream, -though we saw and heard of but this one. Ask the inhabitants -respecting any stream, if there is a fall on it, and they will -perchance tell you of something as interesting as Bashpish or the -Catskill, which no traveler has ever seen, or if they have not found -it, you may possibly trace up the stream and discover it yourself. -Falls there are a drug, and we became quite dissipated in respect to -them. We had drank too much of them. Beside these which I have -referred to, there are a thousand other falls on the St. Lawrence and -its tributaries which I have not seen nor heard of; and above all -there is one which I have heard of, called Niagara, so that I think -that this river must be the most remarkable for its falls of any in -the world. - -At a house near the western boundary of Château Richer, whose master -was said to speak a very little English, having recently lived at -Quebec, we got lodging for the night. As usual, we had to go down a -lane to get round to the south side of the house, where the door was, -away from the road. For these Canadian houses have no front door, -properly speaking. Every part is for the use of the occupant -exclusively, and no part has reference to the traveler or to travel. -Every New England house, on the contrary, has a front and principal -door opening to the great world, though it may be on the cold side, -for it stands on the highway of nations, and the road which runs by it -comes from the Old World and goes to the far West; but the Canadian's -door opens into his backyard and farm alone, and the road which runs -behind his house leads only from the church of one saint to that of -another. We found a large family, hired men, wife, and children, just -eating their supper. They prepared some for us afterwards. The hired -men were a merry crew of short, black-eyed fellows, and the wife a -thin-faced, sharp-featured French-Canadian woman. Our host's English -staggered us rather more than any French we had heard yet; indeed, we -found that even we spoke better French than he did English, and we -concluded that a less crime would be committed on the whole if we -spoke French with him, and in no respect aided or abetted his attempts -to speak English. We had a long and merry chat with the family this -Sunday evening in their spacious kitchen. While my companion smoked a -pipe and parlez-vous'd with one party, I parleyed and gesticulated to -another. The whole family was enlisted, and I kept a little girl -writing what was otherwise unintelligible. The geography getting -obscure, we called for chalk, and the greasy oiled table-cloth having -been wiped,--for it needed no French, but only a sentence from the -universal language of looks on my part, to indicate that it needed -it,--we drew the St. Lawrence, with its parishes, thereon, and -thenceforward went on swimmingly, by turns handling the chalk and -committing to the table-cloth what would otherwise have been left in a -limbo of unintelligibility. This was greatly to the entertainment of -all parties. I was amused to hear how much use they made of the word -oui in conversation with one another. After repeated single insertions -of it, one would suddenly throw back his head at the same time with -his chair, and exclaim rapidly, "Oui! oui! oui! oui!" like a Yankee -driving pigs. Our host told us that the farms thereabouts were -generally two acres or three hundred and sixty French feet wide, by -one and a half leagues (?), or a little more than four and a half of -our miles deep. This use of the word _acre_ as long measure arises -from the fact that the French acre or arpent, the arpent of Paris, -makes a square of ten perches, of eighteen feet each, on a side, a -Paris foot being equal to 1.06575 English feet. He said that the wood -was cut off about one mile from the river. The rest was "bush," and -beyond that the "Queen's bush." Old as the country is, each landholder -bounds on the primitive forest, and fuel bears no price. As I had -forgotten the French for _sickle_, they went out in the evening to the -barn and got one, and so clenched the certainty of our understanding -one another. Then, wishing to learn if they used the cradle, and not -knowing any French word for this instrument, I set up the knives and -forks on the blade of the sickle to represent one; at which they all -exclaimed that they knew and had used it. When _snells_ were mentioned -they went out in the dark and plucked some. They were pretty good. -They said they had three kinds of plums growing wild,--blue, white, -and red, the two former much alike and the best. Also they asked me if -I would have _des pommes_, some apples, and got me some. They were -exceedingly fair and glossy, and it was evident that there was no worm -in them; but they were as hard almost as a stone, as if the season was -too short to mellow them. We had seen no soft and yellow apples by the -roadside. I declined eating one, much as I admired it, observing that -it would be good _dans le printemps_, in the spring. In the morning -when the mistress had set the eggs a-frying she nodded to a thick-set, -jolly-looking fellow, who rolled up his sleeves, seized the -long-handled griddle, and commenced a series of revolutions and -evolutions with it, ever and anon tossing its contents into the air, -where they turned completely topsy-turvy and came down t'other side -up; and this he repeated till they were done. That appeared to be his -duty when eggs were concerned. I did not chance to witness this -performance, but my companion did, and he pronounced it a masterpiece -in its way. This man's farm, with the buildings, cost seven hundred -pounds; some smaller ones, two hundred. - -In 1827, Montmorenci County, to which the Isle of Orleans has since -been added, was nearly as large as Massachusetts, being the eighth -county out of forty (in Lower Canada) in extent; but by far the -greater part still must continue to be waste land, lying as it were -under the walls of Quebec. - -I quote these old statistics, not merely because of the difficulty of -obtaining more recent ones, but also because I saw there so little -evidence of any recent growth. There were in this county, at the same -date, five Roman Catholic churches, and no others, five cures and five -presbyteries, two schools, two corn-mills, four sawmills, one -carding-mill,--no medical man or notary or lawyer,--five shopkeepers, -four taverns (we saw no sign of any, though, after a little -hesitation, we were sometimes directed to some undistinguished hut as -such), thirty artisans, and five river crafts, whose tonnage amounted -to sixty-nine tons! This, notwithstanding that it has a frontage of -more than thirty miles on the river, and the population is almost -wholly confined to its banks. This describes nearly enough what we -saw. But double some of these figures, which, however, its growth will -not warrant, and you have described a poverty which not even its -severity of climate and ruggedness of soil will suffice to account -for. The principal productions were wheat, potatoes, oats, hay, peas, -flax, maple-sugar, etc., etc.; linen cloth, or _étoffe du pays_, -flannel, and homespun, or _petite étoffe_. - -In Lower Canada, according to Bouchette, there are two tenures,--the -feudal and the socage. _Tenanciers_, _censitaires_, or holders of land -_en roture_ pay a small annual rent to the seigneurs, to which "is -added some articles of provision, such as a couple of fowls, or a -goose, or a bushel of wheat." "They are also bound to grind their corn -at the _moulin banal_, or the lord's mill, where one fourteenth part -of it is taken for his use" as toll. He says that the toll is one -twelfth in the United States where competition exists. It is not -permitted to exceed one sixteenth in Massachusetts. But worse than -this monopolizing of mill rents is what are called _lods et ventes_, -or mutation fines,--according to which the seigneur has "a right to a -twelfth part of the purchase-money of every estate within his -seigniory that changes its owner by sale." This is over and above the -sum paid to the seller. In such cases, moreover, "the lord possesses -the _droit de retrait_, which is the privilege of preemption at the -highest bidden price within forty days after the sale has taken -place,"--a right which, however, is said to be seldom exercised. -"Lands held by Roman Catholics are further subject to the payment to -their curates of one twenty-sixth part of all the grain produced upon -them, and to occasional assessments for building and repairing -churches," etc.,--a tax to which they are not subject if the -proprietors change their faith; but they are not the less attached to -their church in consequence. There are, however, various modifications -of the feudal tenure. Under the socage tenure, which is that of the -townships or more recent settlements, English, Irish, Scotch, and -others, and generally of Canada West, the landholder is wholly -unshackled by such conditions as I have quoted, and "is bound to no -other obligations than those of allegiance to the king and obedience -to the laws." Throughout Canada "a freehold of forty shillings yearly -value, or the payment of ten pounds rent annually, is the -qualification for voters." In 1846 more than one sixth of the whole -population of Canada East were qualified to vote for members of -Parliament,--a greater proportion than enjoy a similar privilege in -the United States. - -The population which we had seen the last two days--I mean the -habitans of Montmorenci County--appeared very inferior, intellectually -and even physically, to that of New England. In some respects they -were incredibly filthy. It was evident that they had not advanced -since the settlement of the country, that they were quite behind the -age, and fairly represented their ancestors in Normandy a thousand -years ago. Even in respect to the common arts of life, they are not so -far advanced as a frontier town in the West three years old. They have -no money invested in railroad stock, and probably never will have. If -they have got a French phrase for a railroad, it is as much as you can -expect of them. They are very far from a revolution, have no quarrel -with Church or State, but their vice and their virtue is content. As -for annexation, they have never dreamed of it; indeed, they have not a -clear idea what or where the States are. The English government has -been remarkably liberal to its Catholic subjects in Canada, permitting -them to wear their own fetters, both political and religious, as far -as was possible for subjects. Their government is even too good for -them. Parliament passed "an act [in 1825] to provide for the -extinction of feudal and seigniorial rights and burdens on lands in -Lower Canada, and for the gradual conversion of those tenures into the -tenure of free and common socage," etc. But as late as 1831, at least, -the design of the act was likely to be frustrated, owing to the -reluctance of the seigniors and peasants. It has been observed by -another that the French Canadians do not extend nor perpetuate their -influence. The British, Irish, and other immigrants, who have settled -the townships, are found to have imitated the American settlers and -not the French. They reminded me in this of the Indians, whom they -were slow to displace, and to whose habits of life they themselves more -readily conformed than the Indians to theirs. The Governor-General -Denouville remarked, in 1685, that some had long thought that it was -necessary to bring the Indians near them in order to Frenchify -(_franciser_) them, but that they had every reason to think themselves -in an error; for those who had come near them and were even collected -in villages in the midst of the colony had not become French, but the -French who had haunted them had become savages. Kalm said, "Though -many nations imitate the French customs, yet I observed, on the -contrary, that the French in Canada, in many respects, follow the -customs of the Indians, with whom they converse every day. They make -use of the tobacco-pipes, shoes, garters, and girdles of the Indians. -They follow the Indian way of making war with exactness; they mix the -same things with tobacco [he might have said that both French and -English learned the use itself of this weed of the Indian]; they make -use of the Indian bark-boats, and row them in the Indian way; they -wrap square pieces of cloth round their feet instead of stockings; and -have adopted many other Indian fashions." Thus, while the descendants -of the Pilgrims are teaching the English to make pegged boots, the -descendants of the French in Canada are wearing the Indian moccasin -still. The French, to their credit be it said, to a certain extent -respected the Indians as a separate and independent people, and spoke -of them and contrasted themselves with them as the English have never -done. They not only went to war with them as allies, but they lived at -home with them as neighbors. In 1627 the French king declared "that -the descendants" of the French, settled in New France, "and the -savages who should be brought to the knowledge of the faith, and -should make profession of it, should be counted and reputed French -born (_Naturels François_); and as such could emigrate to France, when -it seemed good to them, and there acquire, will, inherit, etc., etc., -without obtaining letters of naturalization." When the English had -possession of Quebec, in 1630, the Indians, attempting to practice the -same familiarity with them that they had with the French, were driven -out of their houses with blows; which accident taught them a -difference between the two races, and attached them yet more to the -French. The impression made on me was that the French Canadians were -even sharing the fate of the Indians, or at least gradually -disappearing in what is called the Saxon current. - -The English did not come to America from a mere love of adventure, -nor to truck with or convert the savages, nor to hold offices under -the crown, as the French to a great extent did, but to live in earnest -and with freedom. The latter overran a great extent of country, -selling strong water, and collecting its furs, and converting its -inhabitants,--or at least baptizing its dying infants (_enfans -moribonds_),--without _improving_ it. First went the _coureur de bois_ -with the _eau de vie_; then followed, if he did not precede, the -heroic missionary with the _eau d'immortalité_. It was freedom to -hunt, and fish, and convert, not to work, that they sought. Hontan -says that the _coureurs de bois_ lived like sailors ashore. In no part -of the Seventeenth Century could the French be said to have had a -foothold in Canada; they held only by the fur of the wild animals -which they were exterminating. To enable the poor seigneurs to get -their living, it was permitted by a decree passed in the reign of -Louis the Fourteenth, in 1685, "to all nobles and gentlemen settled in -Canada, to engage in commerce, without being called to account or -reputed to have done anything derogatory." The reader can infer to -what extent they had engaged in agriculture, and how their farms must -have shone by this time. The New England youth, on the other hand, -were never _coureurs de bois_ nor _voyageurs_, but backwoodsmen and -sailors rather. Of all nations the English undoubtedly have proved -hitherto that they had the most business here. - -Yet I am not sure but I have most sympathy with that spirit of adventure -which distinguished the French and Spaniards of those days, and made -them especially the explorers of the American Continent,--which so -early carried the former to the Great Lakes and the Mississippi on the -north, and the latter to the same river on the south. It was long -before our frontiers reached their settlements in the West. So far as -inland discovery was concerned, the adventurous spirit of the English -was that of sailors who land but for a day, and their enterprise the -enterprise of traders. - -There was apparently a greater equality of condition among the -habitans of Montmorenci County than in New England. They are an almost -exclusively agricultural, and so far independent population, each -family producing nearly all the necessaries of life for itself. If the -Canadian wants energy, perchance he possesses those virtues, social -and others, which the Yankee lacks, in which case he cannot be -regarded as a poor man. - -FOOTNOTE: - -[2] From McCulloch's Geographical Dictionary we learn that -"immediately beyond the Island of Orleans it is a mile broad; where -the Saguenay joins it, eighteen miles; at Point Peter, upward of -thirty; at the Bay of Seven Islands, seventy miles; and at the Island -of Anticosti (above three hundred and fifty miles from Quebec), it -rolls a flood into the ocean nearly one hundred miles across." - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE WALLS OF QUEBEC - - -After spending the night at a farmhouse in Château Richer, about a -dozen miles northeast of Quebec, we set out on our return to the city. -We stopped at the next house, a picturesque old stone mill, over the -_Chipré_,--for so the name sounded,--such as you will nowhere see in -the States, and asked the millers the age of the mill. They went -upstairs to call the master; but the crabbed old miser asked why we -wanted to know, and would tell us only for some compensation. I wanted -French to give him a piece of my mind. I had got enough to talk on a -pinch, but not to quarrel, so I had to come away, looking all I would -have said. This was the utmost incivility we met with in Canada. In -Beauport, within a few miles of Quebec, we turned aside to look at a -church which was just being completed,--a very large and handsome -edifice of stone, with a green bough stuck in its gable, of some -significance to Catholics. The comparative wealth of the Church in -this country was apparent; for in this village we did not see one good -house besides. They were all humble cottages; and yet this appeared to -me a more imposing structure than any church in Boston. But I am no -judge of these things. - -Reëntering Quebec through St. John's Gate, we took a caleche in Market -Square for the Falls of the Chaudière, about nine miles southwest of -the city, for which we were to pay so much, besides forty sous for -tolls. The driver, as usual, spoke French only. The number of these -vehicles is very great for so small a town. They are like one of our -chaises that has lost its top, only stouter and longer in the body, -with a seat for the driver where the dasher is with us, and broad -leather ears on each side to protect the riders from the wheel and -keep children from falling out. They had an easy jaunting look, which, -as our hours were numbered, persuaded us to be riders. We met with -them on every road near Quebec these days, each with its complement of -two inquisitive-looking foreigners and a Canadian driver, the former -evidently enjoying their novel experience, for commonly it is only the -horse whose language you do not understand; but they were one remove -further from him by the intervention of an equally unintelligible -driver. We crossed the St. Lawrence to Point Levi in a French-Canadian -ferry-boat, which was inconvenient and dirty, and managed with great -noise and bustle. The current was very strong and tumultuous; and the -boat tossed enough to make some sick, though it was only a mile -across; yet the wind was not to be compared with that of the day -before, and we saw that the Canadians had a good excuse for not taking -us over to the Isle of Orleans in a pirogue, however shiftless they -may be for not having provided any other conveyance. The route which -we took to the Chaudière did not afford us those views of Quebec which -we had expected, and the country and inhabitants appeared less -interesting to a traveler than those we had seen. The Falls of the -Chaudière are three miles from its mouth on the south side of the St. -Lawrence. Though they were the largest which I saw in Canada, I was -not proportionately interested by them, probably from satiety. I did -not see any peculiar propriety in the name _Chaudière_, or caldron. I -saw here the most brilliant rainbow that I ever imagined. It was just -across the stream below the precipice, formed on the mist which this -tremendous fall produced; and I stood on a level with the keystone of -its arch. It was not a few faint prismatic colors merely, but a full -semicircle, only four or five rods in diameter, though as wide as -usual, so intensely bright as to pain the eye, and apparently as -substantial as an arch of stone. It changed its position and colors as -we moved, and was the brighter because the sun shone so clearly and -the mist was so thick. Evidently a picture painted on mist for the men -and animals that came to the falls to look at; but for what special -purpose beyond this, I know not. At the farthest point in this ride, -and when most inland, unexpectedly at a turn in the road we descried -the frowning citadel of Quebec in the horizon, like the beak of a bird -of prey. We returned by the river road under the bank, which is very -high, abrupt, and rocky. When we were opposite to Quebec, I was -surprised to see that in the Lower Town, under the shadow of the rock, -the lamps were lit, twinkling not unlike crystals in a cavern, while -the citadel high above, and we, too, on the south shore, were in broad -daylight. As we were too late for the ferry-boat that night, we put up -at a _maison de pension_ at Point Levi. The usual two-story stove was -here placed against an opening in the partition shaped like a -fireplace, and so warmed several rooms. We could not understand their -French here very well, but the _potage_ was just like what we had had -before. There were many small chambers with doorways, but no doors. -The walls of our chamber, all around and overhead, were neatly ceiled, -and the timbers cased with wood unpainted. The pillows were checkered -and tasseled, and the usual long-pointed red woolen or worsted -nightcap was placed on each. I pulled mine out to see how it was made. -It was in the form of a double cone, one end tucked into the other; -just such, it appeared, as I saw men wearing all day in the streets. -Probably I should have put it on if the cold had been then, as it is -sometimes there, thirty or forty degrees below zero. - -When we landed at Quebec the next morning a man lay on his back on the -wharf, apparently dying, in the midst of a crowd and directly in the -path of the horses, groaning, "O ma conscience!" I thought that he -pronounced his French more distinctly than any I heard, as if the -dying had already acquired the accents of a universal language. Having -secured the only unengaged berths in the Lord Sydenham steamer, which -was to leave Quebec before sundown, and being resolved, now that I had -seen somewhat of the country, to get an idea of the city, I proceeded -to walk round the Upper Town, or fortified portion, which is two miles -and three quarters in circuit, alone, as near as I could get to the -cliff and the walls, like a rat looking for a hole; going round by the -southwest, where there is but a single street between the cliff and -the water, and up the long wooden stairs, through the suburbs -northward to the King's Woodyard, which I thought must have been a -long way from his fireplace, and under the cliffs of the St. Charles, -where the drains issue under the walls, and the walls are loopholed -for musketry; so returning by Mountain Street and Prescott Gate to the -Upper Town. Having found my way by an obscure passage near the St. -Louis Gate to the glacis on the north of the citadel proper,--I -believe that I was the only visitor then in the city who got in -there,--I enjoyed a prospect nearly as good as from within the citadel -itself, which I had explored some days before. As I walked on the -glacis I heard the sound of a bagpipe from the soldiers' dwellings in -the rock, and was further soothed and affected by the sight of a -soldier's cat walking up a cleated plank into a high loophole designed -for _mus-catry_, as serene as Wisdom herself, and with a gracefully -waving motion of her tail, as if her ways were ways of pleasantness -and all her paths were peace. Scaling a slat fence, where a small -force might have checked me, I got out of the esplanade into the -Governor's Garden, and read the well-known inscription on Wolfe and -Montcalm's monument, which for saying much in little, and that to the -purpose, undoubtedly deserved the prize medal which it received:-- - - MORTEM . VIRTUS . COMMUNEM . - FAMAM . HISTORIA . - MONUMENTUM . POSTERITAS . - DEDIT - -(Valor gave them one death, history one fame, posterity one monument.) -The Government Garden has for nosegays, amid kitchen vegetables, -beside the common garden flowers, the usual complement of cannon -directed toward some future and possible enemy. I then returned up St. -Louis Street to the esplanade and ramparts there, and went round the -Upper Town once more, though I was very tired, this time on the -_inside_ of the wall; for I knew that the wall was the main thing in -Quebec, and had cost a great deal of money, and therefore I must make -the most of it. In fact, these are the only remarkable walls we have -in North America, though we have a good deal of Virginia fence, it is -true. Moreover, I cannot say but I yielded in some measure to the -soldier instinct, and, having but a short time to spare, thought it -best to examine the wall thoroughly, that I might be the better -prepared if I should ever be called that way again in the service of -my country. I committed all the gates to memory, in their order, which -did not cost me so much trouble as it would have done at the -hundred-gated city, there being only five; nor were they so hard to -remember as those seven of Boeotian Thebes; and, moreover, I thought -that, if seven champions were enough against the latter, one would be -enough against Quebec, though he bore for all armor and device only an -umbrella and a bundle. I took the nunneries as I went, for I had -learned to distinguish them by the blinds; and I observed also the -foundling hospitals and the convents, and whatever was attached to, or -in the vicinity of the walls. All the rest I omitted, as naturally as -one would the inside of an inedible shell-fish. These were the only -pearls, and the wall the only mother-of-pearl for me. Quebec is -chiefly famous for the thickness of its parietal bones. The technical -terms of its conchology may stagger a beginner a little at first, such -as _banlieue_, _esplanade_, _glacis_, _ravelin_, _cavalier_, etc., -etc., but with the aid of a comprehensive dictionary you soon learn -the nature of your ground. I was surprised at the extent of the -artillery barracks, built so long ago,--_Casernes Nouvelles_, they -used to be called,--nearly six hundred feet in length by forty in -depth, where the sentries, like peripatetic philosophers, were so -absorbed in thought as not to notice me when I passed in and out at -the gates. Within are "small arms of every description, sufficient for -the equipment of twenty thousand men," so arranged as to give a -startling _coup d'oeil_ to strangers. I did not enter, not wishing -to get a black eye; for they are said to be "in a state of complete -repair and readiness for immediate use." Here, for a short time, I -lost sight of the wall, but I recovered it again on emerging from the -barrack yard. There I met with a Scotchman who appeared to have -business with the wall, like myself; and, being thus mutually drawn -together by a similarity of tastes, we had a little conversation _sub -moenibus_, that is, by an angle of the wall, which sheltered us. He -lived about thirty miles northwest of Quebec; had been nineteen years -in the country; said he was disappointed that he was not brought to -America after all, but found himself still under British rule and -where his own language was not spoken; that many Scotch, Irish, and -English were disappointed in like manner, and either went to the -States or pushed up the river to Canada West, nearer to the States, -and where their language was spoken. He talked of visiting the States -some time; and, as he seemed ignorant of geography, I warned him that -it was one thing to visit the State of Massachusetts, and another to -visit the State of California. He said it was colder there than usual -at that season, and he was lucky to have brought his thick togue, or -frock-coat, with him; thought it would snow, and then be pleasant and -warm. That is the way we are always thinking. However, his words were -music to me in my thin hat and sack. - -At the ramparts on the cliff near the old Parliament House I counted -twenty-four thirty-two-pounders in a row, pointed over the harbor, -with their balls piled pyramid-wise between them,--there are said to -be in all about one hundred and eighty guns mounted at Quebec,--all -which were faithfully kept dusted by officials, in accordance with the -motto, "In time of peace prepare for war;" but I saw no preparations -for peace: she was plainly an uninvited guest. - -Having thus completed the circuit of this fortress, both within and -without, I went no farther by the wall for fear that I should become -wall-eyed. However, I think that I deserve to be made a member of the -Royal Sappers and Miners. - -In short, I observed everywhere the most perfect arrangements for -keeping a wall in order, not even permitting the lichens to grow on -it, which some think an ornament; but then I saw no cultivation nor -pasturing within it to pay for the outlay, and cattle were strictly -forbidden to feed on the glacis under the severest penalties. Where -the dogs get their milk I don't know, and I fear it is bloody at best. - -The citadel of Quebec says, "I _will_ live here, and you shan't -prevent me." To which you return, that you have not the slightest -objection; live and let live. The Martello towers looked, for all the -world, exactly like abandoned windmills which had not had a grist to -grind these hundred years. Indeed, the whole castle here was a -"folly,"--England's folly,--and, in more senses than one, a castle in -the air. The inhabitants and the government are gradually waking up to -a sense of this truth; for I heard something said about their -abandoning the wall around the Upper Town, and confining the -fortifications to the citadel of forty acres. Of course they will -finally reduce their intrenchments to the circumference of their own -brave hearts. - -The most modern fortifications have an air of antiquity about them; -they have the aspect of ruins in better or worse repair from the day -they are built, because they are not really the work of this age. The -very place where the soldier resides has a peculiar tendency to become -old and dilapidated, as the word _barrack_ implies. I couple all -fortifications in my mind with the dismantled Spanish forts to be -found in so many parts of the world; and if in any place they are not -actually dismantled, it is because that there the intellect of the -inhabitants is dismantled. The commanding officer of an old fort near -Valdivia in South America, when a traveler remarked to him that, with -one discharge, his gun-carriages would certainly fall to pieces, -gravely replied, "No, I am sure, sir, they would stand two." Perhaps -the guns of Quebec would stand three. Such structures carry us back to -the Middle Ages, the siege of Jerusalem, and St. Jean d'Acre, and the -days of the Bucaniers. In the armory of the citadel they showed me a -clumsy implement, long since useless, which they called a Lombard gun. -I thought that their whole citadel was such a Lombard gun, fit object -for the museums of the curious. Such works do not consist with the -development of the intellect. Huge stone structures of all kinds, both -in their erection and by their influence when erected, rather oppress -than liberate the mind. They are tombs for the souls of men, as -frequently for their bodies also. The sentinel with his musket beside -a man with his umbrella is spectral. There is not sufficient reason -for his existence. Does my friend there, with a bullet resting on half -an ounce of powder, think that he needs that argument in conversing -with me? The fort was the first institution that was founded here, and -it is amusing to read in Champlain how assiduously they worked at it -almost from the first day of the settlement. The founders of the -colony thought this an excellent site for a wall,--and no doubt it was -a better site, in some respects, for a wall than for a city,--but it -chanced that a city got behind it. It chanced, too, that a Lower Town -got before it, and clung like an oyster to the outside of the crags, -as you may see at low tide. It is as if you were to come to a country -village surrounded by palisades in the old Indian fashion,--interesting -only as a relic of antiquity and barbarism. A fortified town is like a -man cased in the heavy armor of antiquity, with a horse-load of -broadswords and small arms slung to him, endeavoring to go about his -business. Or is this an indispensable machinery for the good -government of the country? The inhabitants of California succeed -pretty well, and are doing better and better every day, without any -such institution. What use has this fortress served, to look at it -even from the soldiers' point of view? At first the French took care -of it; yet Wolfe sailed by it with impunity, and took the town of -Quebec without experiencing any hindrance at last from its -fortifications. They were only the bone for which the parties fought. -Then the English began to take care of it. So of any fort in the -world,--that in Boston Harbor, for instance. We shall at length hear -that an enemy sailed by it in the night, for it cannot sail itself, -and both it and its inhabitants are always benighted. How often we -read that the enemy occupied a position which commanded the old, and -so the fort was evacuated! Have not the schoolhouse and the -printing-press occupied a position which commands such a fort as this? - -However, this is a ruin kept in remarkably good repair. There are some -eight hundred or thousand men there to exhibit it. One regiment goes -bare-legged to increase the attraction. If you wish to study the -muscles of the leg about the knee, repair to Quebec. This universal -exhibition in Canada of the tools and sinews of war reminded me of the -keeper of a menagerie showing his animals' claws. It was the English -leopard showing his claws. Always the royal something or other; as at -the menagerie, the Royal Bengal Tiger. Silliman states that "the cold -is so intense in the winter nights, particularly on Cape Diamond, that -the sentinels cannot stand it more than one hour, and are relieved at -the expiration of that time;" "and even, as it is said, at much -shorter intervals, in case of the most extreme cold." What a natural -or unnatural fool must that soldier be--to say nothing of his -government--who, when quicksilver is freezing and blood is ceasing to -be quick, will stand to have his face frozen, watching the walls of -Quebec, though, so far as they are concerned, both honest and -dishonest men all the world over have been in their beds nearly half a -century,--or at least for that space travelers have visited Quebec -only as they would read history! I shall never again wake up in a -colder night than usual, but I shall think how rapidly the sentinels -are relieving one another on the walls of Quebec, their quicksilver -being all frozen, as if apprehensive that some hostile Wolfe may even -then be scaling the Heights of Abraham, or some persevering Arnold -about to issue from the wilderness; some Malay or Japanese, perchance, -coming round by the northwest coast, have chosen that moment to -assault the citadel! Why, I should as soon expect to find the -sentinels still relieving one another on the walls of Nineveh, which -have so long been buried to the world. What a troublesome thing a wall -is! I thought it was to defend me, and not I it! Of course, if they -had no wall, they would not need to have any sentinels. - -You might venture to advertise this farm as well fenced with -substantial stone walls (saying nothing about the eight hundred -Highlanders and Royal Irish who are required to keep them from -toppling down); stock and tools to go with the land if desired. But it -would not be wise for the seller to exhibit his farm-book. - -Why should Canada, wild and unsettled as it is, impress us as an older -country than the States, unless because her institutions are old? All -things appeared to contend there, as I have implied, with a certain -rust of antiquity, such as forms on old armor and iron guns,--the rust -of conventions and formalities. It is said that the metallic roofs of -Montreal and Quebec keep sound and bright for forty years in some -cases. But if the rust was not on the tinned roofs and spires, it was -on the inhabitants and their institutions. Yet the work of burnishing -goes briskly forward. I imagined that the government vessels at the -wharves were laden with rottenstone and oxalic acid,--that is what the -first ship from England in the spring comes freighted with,--and the -hands of the Colonial legislature are cased in wash-leather. The -principal exports must be _gun_ny bags, verdigris, and iron rust. -Those who first built this fort, coming from Old France with the -memory and tradition of feudal days and customs weighing on them, were -unquestionably behind their age; and those who now inhabit and repair -it are behind their ancestors or predecessors. Those old chevaliers -thought that they could transplant the feudal system to America. It -has been set out, but it has not thriven. Notwithstanding that Canada -was settled first, and, unlike New England, for a long series of years -enjoyed the fostering care of the mother country; notwithstanding -that, as Charlevoix tells us, it had more of the ancient _noblesse_ -among its early settlers than any other of the French colonies, and -perhaps than all the others together, there are in both the Canadas -but 600,000 of French descent to-day,--about half so many as the -population of Massachusetts. The whole population of both Canadas is -but about 1,700,000 Canadians, English, Irish, Scotch, Indians, and -all, put together! Samuel Laing, in his essay on the Northmen, to -whom especially, rather than the Saxons, he refers the energy and -indeed the excellence of the English character, observes that, when -they occupied Scandinavia, "each man possessed his lot of land without -reference to, or acknowledgment of, any other man, without any local -chief to whom his military service or other quit-rent for his land was -due,--without tenure from, or duty or obligation to, any superior, -real or fictitious, except the general sovereign. The individual -settler held his land, as his descendants in Norway still express it, -by the same right as the King held his crown, by udal right, or -adel,--that is, noble right." The French have occupied Canada, not -_udally_, or by noble right, but _feudally_, or by ignoble right. They -are a nation of peasants. - -It was evident that, both on account of the feudal system and the -aristocratic government, a private man was not worth so much in Canada -as in the United States; and, if your wealth in any measure consists -in manliness, in originality and independence, you had better stay -here. How could a peaceable, freethinking man live neighbor to the -Forty-ninth Regiment? A New-Englander would naturally be a bad -citizen, probably a rebel, there,--certainly if he were already a -rebel at home. I suspect that a poor man who is not servile is a much -rarer phenomenon there and in England than in the Northern United -States. An Englishman, methinks,--not to speak of other European -nations,--habitually regards himself merely as a constituent part of -the English nation; he is a member of the royal regiment of -Englishmen, and is proud of his company, as he has reason to be proud -of it. But an American--one who has made a tolerable use of his -opportunities--cares, comparatively, little about such things, and is -advantageously nearer to the primitive and the ultimate condition of -man in these respects. It is a government, that English one,--like -most other European ones,--that cannot afford to be forgotten, as you -would naturally forget it; under which one cannot be wholesomely -neglected, and grow up a man and not an Englishman merely,--cannot be -a poet even without danger of being made poet-laureate! Give me a -country where it is the most natural thing in the world for a -government that does not understand you to let you alone. One would -say that a true Englishman could speculate only within bounds. (It is -true the Americans have proved that they, in more than one sense, can -_speculate_ without bounds.) He has to pay his respects to so many -things, that, before he knows it, he _may_ have paid away all he is -worth. What makes the United States government, on the whole, more -tolerable--I mean for us lucky white men--is the fact that there is so -much less of government with us. Here it is only once in a month or a -year that a man _needs_ remember that institution; and those who go to -Congress can play the game of the Kilkenny cats there without fatal -consequences to those who stay at home, their term is so short; but in -Canada you are reminded of the government every day. It parades itself -before you. It is not content to be the servant, but will be the -master; and every day it goes out to the Plains of Abraham or to the -Champ de Mars and exhibits itself and toots. Everywhere there appeared -an attempt to make and to preserve trivial and otherwise transient -distinctions. In the streets of Montreal and Quebec you met not only -with soldiers in red, and shuffling priests in unmistakable black and -white, with Sisters of Charity gone into mourning for their deceased -relative,--not to mention the nuns of various orders depending on the -fashion of a tear, of whom you heard,--but youths belonging to some -seminary or other, wearing coats edged with white, who looked as if -their expanding hearts were already repressed with a piece of tape. In -short, the inhabitants of Canada appeared to be suffering between two -fires,--the soldiery and the priesthood. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE SCENERY OF QUEBEC; AND THE RIVER ST. LAWRENCE - - -About twelve o'clock this day, being in the Lower Town, I looked up at -the signal-gun by the flagstaff on Cape Diamond, and saw a soldier up -in the heavens there making preparations to fire it,--both he and the -gun in bold relief against the sky. Soon after, being warned by the -boom of the gun to look up again, there was only the cannon in the -sky, the smoke just blowing away from it, as if the soldier, having -touched it off, had concealed himself for effect, leaving the sound to -echo grandly from shore to shore, and far up and down the river. This -answered the purpose of a dinner-horn. - -There are no such restaurants in Quebec or Montreal as there are in -Boston. I hunted an hour or two in vain in this town to find one, till -I lost my appetite. In one house, called a restaurant, where lunches -were advertised, I found only tables covered with bottles and glasses -innumerable, containing apparently a sample of every liquid that has -been known since the earth dried up after the flood, but no scent of -solid food did I perceive gross enough to excite a hungry mouse. In -short, I saw nothing to tempt me there, but a large map of Canada -against the wall. In another place I once more got as far as the -bottles, and then asked for a bill of fare; was told to walk up -stairs; had no bill of fare, nothing but fare. "Have you any pies or -puddings?" I inquired, for I am obliged to keep my savageness in check -by a low diet. "No, sir; we've nice mutton-chop, roast beef, -beefsteak, cutlets," and so on. A burly Englishman, who was in the -midst of the siege of a piece of roast beef, and of whom I have never -had a front view to this day, turned half round, with his mouth half -full, and remarked, "You'll find no pies nor puddings in Quebec, sir; -they don't make any here." I found that it was even so, and therefore -bought some musty cake and some fruit in the open market-place. This -market-place by the waterside, where the old women sat by their tables -in the open air, amid a dense crowd jabbering all languages, was the -best place in Quebec to observe the people; and the ferry-boats, -continually coming and going with their motley crews and cargoes, -added much to the entertainment. I also saw them getting water from -the river, for Quebec is supplied with water by cart and barrel. This -city impressed me as wholly foreign and French, for I scarcely heard -the sound of the English language in the streets. More than three -fifths of the inhabitants are of French origin; and if the traveler -did not visit the fortifications particularly, he might not be -reminded that the English have any foothold here; and, in any case, if -he looked no farther than Quebec, they would appear to have planted -themselves in Canada only as they have in Spain at Gibraltar; and he -who plants upon a rock cannot expect much increase. The novel sights -and sounds by the waterside made me think of such ports as Boulogne, -Dieppe, Rouen, and Havre-de-Grâce, which I have never seen; but I -have no doubt that they present similar scenes. I was much amused from -first to last with the sounds made by the charette and caleche -drivers. It was that part of their foreign language that you heard the -most of,--the French they talked to their horses,--and which they -talked the loudest. It was a more novel sound to me than the French of -conversation. The streets resounded with the cries, "_Qui donc!_" -"_Marche tôt!_" I suspect that many of our horses which came from -Canada would prick up their ears at these sounds. Of the shops, I was -most attracted by those where furs and Indian works were sold, as -containing articles of genuine Canadian manufacture. I have been told -that two townsmen of mine, who were interested in horticulture, -traveling once in Canada, and being in Quebec, thought it would be a -good opportunity to obtain seeds of the real Canada crookneck squash. -So they went into a shop where such things were advertised, and -inquired for the same. The shopkeeper had the very thing they wanted. -"But are you sure," they asked, "that these are the genuine Canada -crookneck?" "Oh, yes, gentlemen," answered he, "they are a lot which I -have received directly from Boston." I resolved that my Canada -crookneck seeds should be such as had grown in Canada. - -Too much has not been said about the scenery of Quebec. The -fortifications of Cape Diamond are omnipresent. They preside, they -frown over the river and surrounding country. You travel ten, twenty, -thirty miles up or down the river's banks, you ramble fifteen miles -amid the hills on either side, and then, when you have long since -forgotten them, perchance slept on them by the way, at a turn of the -road or of your body, there they are still, with their geometry -against the sky. The child that is born and brought up thirty miles -distant, and has never traveled to the city, reads his country's -history, sees the level lines of the citadel amid the cloud-built -citadels in the western horizon, and is told that that is Quebec. No -wonder if Jacques Cartier's pilot exclaimed in Norman French, "Que -bec!" (What a beak!) when he saw this cape, as some suppose. Every -modern traveler involuntarily uses a similar expression. Particularly -it is said that its sudden apparition on turning Point Levi makes a -memorable impression on him who arrives by water. The view from Cape -Diamond has been compared by European travelers with the most -remarkable views of a similar kind in Europe, such as from Edinburgh -Castle, Gibraltar, Cintra, and others, and preferred by many. A main -peculiarity in this, compared with other views which I have beheld, is -that it is from the ramparts of a fortified city, and not from a -solitary and majestic river cape alone, that this view is obtained. I -associate the beauty of Quebec with the steel-like and flashing air, -which may be peculiar to that season of the year, in which the blue -flowers of the succory and some late goldenrods and buttercups on the -summit of Cape Diamond were almost my only companions,--the former -bluer than the heavens they faced. Yet even I yielded in some degree -to the influence of historical associations, and found it hard to -attend to the geology of Cape Diamond or the botany of the Plains of -Abraham. I still remember the harbor far beneath me, sparkling like -silver in the sun, the answering highlands of Point Levi on the -southeast, the frowning Cap Tourmente abruptly bounding the seaward -view far in the northeast, the villages of Lorette and Charlesbourg on -the north, and, further west, the distant Val Cartier, sparkling with -white cottages, hardly removed by distance through the clear air,--not -to mention a few blue mountains along the horizon in that direction. -You look out from the ramparts of the citadel beyond the frontiers of -civilization. Yonder small group of hills, according to the -guide-book, forms "the portal of the wilds which are trodden only by -the feet of the Indian hunters as far as Hudson's Bay." It is but a -few years since Bouchette declared that the country ten leagues north -of the British capital of North America was as little known as the -middle of Africa. Thus the citadel under my feet, and all historical -associations, were swept away again by an influence from the wilds and -from Nature, as if the beholder had read her history,--an influence -which, like the Great River itself, flowed from the Arctic fastnesses -and Western forests with irresistible tide over all. - -The most interesting object in Canada to me was the River St. -Lawrence, known far and wide, and for centuries, as the Great River. -Cartier, its discoverer, sailed up it as far as Montreal in -1535,--nearly a century before the coming of the Pilgrims; and I have -seen a pretty accurate map of it so far, containing the city of -"Hochelaga" and the river "Saguenay," in Ortelius's _Theatrum Orbis -Terrarum_, printed at Antwerp in 1575,--the first edition having -appeared in 1570,--in which the famous cities of "Norumbega" and -"Orsinora" stand on the rough-blocked continent where New England is -to-day, and the fabulous but unfortunate Isle of Demons, and Frislant, -and others, lie off and on in the unfrequented sea, some of them -prowling near what is now the course of the Cunard steamers. In this -ponderous folio of the "Ptolemy of his age," said to be the first -general atlas published after the revival of the sciences in Europe, -only one page of which is devoted to the topography of the _Novus -Orbis_, the St. Lawrence is the only large river, whether drawn from -fancy or from observation, on the east side of North America. It was -famous in Europe before the other rivers of North America were heard -of, notwithstanding that the mouth of the Mississippi is said to have -been discovered first, and its stream was reached by Soto not long -after; but the St. Lawrence had attracted settlers to its cold shores -long before the Mississippi, or even the Hudson, was known to the -world. Schoolcraft was misled by Gallatin into saying that Narvaez -discovered the Mississippi. De Vega does _not_ say so. The first -explorers declared that the summer in that country was as warm as -France, and they named one of the bays in the Gulf of St. Lawrence the -Bay of Chaleur, or of warmth; but they said nothing about the winter -being as cold as Greenland. In the manuscript account of Cartier's -second voyage, attributed by some to that navigator himself, it is -called "the greatest river, without comparison, that is known to have -ever been seen." The savages told him that it was the "chemin du -Canada,"--the highway to Canada,--"which goes so far that no man had -ever been to the end that they had heard." The Saguenay, one of its -tributaries, which the panorama has made known to New England within -three years, is described by Cartier, in 1535, and still more -particularly by Jean Alphonse, in 1542, who adds, "I think that this -river comes from the sea of Cathay, for in this place there issues a -strong current, and there runs there a terrible tide." The early -explorers saw many whales and other sea-monsters far up the St. -Lawrence. Champlain, in his map, represents a whale spouting in the -harbor of Quebec, three hundred and sixty miles from what is called -the mouth of the river; and Charlevoix takes his reader to the summit -of Cape Diamond to see the "porpoises, white as snow," sporting on the -surface of the harbor of Quebec. And Boucher says in 1664, "from there -[Tadoussac] to Montreal is found a great quantity of _Marsouins -blancs_." Several whales have been taken pretty high up the river -since I was there. P. A. Gosse, in his "Canadian Naturalist," p. 171 -(London, 1840), speaks of "the white dolphin of the St. Lawrence -(_Delphinus Canadensis_)," as considered different from those of the -sea. "The Natural History Society of Montreal offered a prize, a few -years ago, for an essay on the _Cetacea_ of the St. Lawrence, which -was, I believe, handed in." In Champlain's day it was commonly called -"the Great River of Canada." More than one nation has claimed it. In -Ogilby's "America of 1670," in the map _Novi Belgii_, it is called "De -Groote River van Niew Nederlandt." It bears different names in -different parts of its course, as it flows through what were formerly -the territories of different nations. From the Gulf to Lake Ontario -it is called at present the St. Lawrence; from Montreal to the same -place it is frequently called the Cateraqui; and higher up it is known -successively as the Niagara, Detroit, St. Clair, St. Mary's, and St. -Louis rivers. Humboldt, speaking of the Orinoco, says that this name -is unknown in the interior of the country; so likewise the tribes that -dwell about the sources of the St. Lawrence have never heard the name -which it bears in the lower part of its course. It rises near another -father of waters,--the Mississippi,--issuing from a remarkable spring -far up in the woods, called Lake Superior, fifteen hundred miles in -circumference; and several other springs there are thereabouts which -feed it. It makes such a noise in its tumbling down at one place as is -heard all round the world. Bouchette, the Surveyor-General of the -Canadas, calls it "the most splendid river on the globe;" says that it -is two thousand statute miles long (more recent geographers make it -four or five hundred miles longer); that at the Rivière du Sud it is -eleven miles wide; at the Traverse, thirteen; at the Paps of Matane, -twenty-five; at the Seven Islands, seventy-three; and at its mouth, -from Cape Rosier to the Mingan Settlements in Labrador, near one -hundred and five (?) miles wide. According to Captain Bayfield's -recent chart it is about _ninety-six_ geographical miles wide at the -latter place, measuring at right angles with the stream. It has much -the largest estuary, regarding both length and breadth, of any river -on the globe. Humboldt says that the River Plate, which has the -broadest estuary of the South American rivers, is ninety-two -geographical miles wide at its mouth; also he found the Orinoco to be -more than three miles wide at five hundred and sixty miles from its -mouth; but he does not tell us that ships of six hundred tons can sail -up it so far, as they can up the St. Lawrence to Montreal,--an equal -distance. If he had described a fleet of such ships at anchor in a -city's port so far inland, we should have got a very different idea of -the Orinoco. Perhaps Charlevoix describes the St. Lawrence truly as -the most _navigable_ river in the world. Between Montreal and Quebec -it averages about two miles wide. The tide is felt as far up as Three -Rivers, four hundred and thirty-two miles, which is as far as from -Boston to Washington. As far up as Cap aux Oyes, sixty or seventy -miles below Quebec, Kalm found a great part of the plants near the -shore to be marine, as glasswort (_Salicornia_), seaside pease (_Pisum -maritimum_), sea-milkwort (_Glaux_), beach-grass (_Psamma arenaria_), -seaside plantain (_Plantago maritima_), the sea-rocket (_Bunias -cakile_), etc. - -The geographer Guyot observes that the Marañon is three thousand miles -long, and gathers its waters from a surface of a million and a half -square miles; that the Mississippi is also three thousand miles long, -but its basin covers only from eight to nine hundred thousand square -miles; that the St. Lawrence is eighteen hundred miles long, and its -basin covers more than a million square miles (Darby says five hundred -thousand); and speaking of the lakes, he adds, "These vast fresh-water -seas, together with the St. Lawrence, cover a surface of nearly one -hundred thousand square miles, and it has been calculated that they -contain about one half of all the fresh water on the surface of our -planet." But all these calculations are necessarily very rude and -inaccurate. Its tributaries, the Ottawa, St. Maurice, and Saguenay, -are great rivers themselves. The latter is said to be more than one -thousand (?) feet deep at its mouth, while its cliffs rise -perpendicularly an equal distance above its surface. Pilots say there -are no soundings till one hundred and fifty miles up the St. Lawrence. -The greatest sounding in the river, given on Bayfield's chart of the -gulf and river, is two hundred and twenty-eight fathoms. McTaggart, an -engineer, observes that "the Ottawa is larger than all the rivers in -Great Britain, were they running in one." The traveler Grey writes: "A -dozen Danubes, Rhines, Taguses, and Thameses would be nothing to -twenty miles of fresh water in breadth [as where he happened to be], -from ten to forty fathoms in depth." And again: "There is not perhaps -in the whole extent of this immense continent so fine an approach to -it as by the river St. Lawrence. In the Southern States you have, in -general, a level country for many miles inland; here you are -introduced at once into a majestic scenery, where everything is on a -grand scale,--mountains, woods, lakes, rivers, precipices, -waterfalls." - -We have not yet the data for a minute comparison of the St. Lawrence -with the South American rivers; but it is obvious that, taking it in -connection with its lakes, its estuary, and its falls, it easily bears -off the palm from all the rivers on the globe; for though, as -Bouchette observes, it may not carry to the ocean a greater volume of -water than the Amazon and Mississippi, its surface and cubic mass are -far greater than theirs. But, unfortunately, this noble river is -closed by ice from the beginning of December to the middle of April. -The arrival of the first vessel from England when the ice breaks up -is, therefore, a great event, as when the salmon, shad, and alewives -come up a river in the spring to relieve the famishing inhabitants on -its banks. Who can say what would have been the history of this -continent if, as has been suggested, this river had emptied into the -sea where New York stands! - -After visiting the Museum and taking one more look at the wall, I made -haste to the Lord Sydenham steamer, which at five o'clock was to leave -for Montreal. I had already taken a seat on deck, but finding that I -had still an hour and a half to spare, and remembering that large map -of Canada which I had seen in the parlor of the restaurant in my -search after pudding, and realizing that I might never see the like -out of the country, I returned thither, asked liberty to look at the -map, rolled up the mahogany table, put my handkerchief on it, stood on -it, and copied all I wanted before the maid came in and said to me -standing on the table, "Some gentlemen want the room, sir;" and I -retreated without having broken the neck of a single bottle, or my -own, very thankful and willing to pay for all the solid food I had -got. We were soon abreast of Cap Rouge, eight miles above Quebec, -after we got under weigh. It was in this place, then called _Fort du -France Roy_, that the Sieur de Roberval with his company, having sent -home two of his three ships, spent the winter of 1542-43. It appears -that they fared in the following manner (I translate from the -original): "Each mess had only two loaves, weighing each a pound, and -half a pound of beef. They ate pork for dinner, with half a pound of -butter, and beef for supper, with about two handfuls of beans without -butter. Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays they ate salted cod, and -sometimes green, for dinner, with butter; and porpoise and beans for -supper. Monsieur Roberval administered good justice, and punished each -according to his offense. One, named Michel Gaillon, was hung for -theft; John of Nantes was put in irons and imprisoned for his fault; -and others were likewise put in irons; and many were whipped, both men -and women; by which means they lived in peace and tranquillity." In an -account of a voyage up this river, printed in the Jesuit Relations in -the year 1664, it is said: "It was an interesting navigation for us in -ascending the river from Cap Tourmente to Quebec, to see on this side -and on that, for the space of eight leagues, the farms and the houses -of the company, built by our French, all along these shores. On the -right, the seigniories of Beauport, of Notre Dame des Anges; and on -the left, this beautiful Isle of Orleans." The same traveler names -among the fruits of the country observed at the Isles of Richelieu, at -the head of Lake St. Peter, "kinds (_des espèces_) of little apples or -haws (_senelles_), and of pears, which only ripen with the frost." - -Night came on before we had passed the high banks. We had come from -Montreal to Quebec in one night. The return voyage, against the -stream, takes but an hour longer. Jacques Cartier, the first white man -who is known to have ascended this river, thus speaks of his voyage -from what is now Quebec to the foot of Lake St. Peter, or about -half-way to Montreal: "From the said day, the 19th, even to the 28th -of the said month [September, 1535], we had been navigating up the -said river without losing hour or day, during which time we had seen -and found as much country and lands as level as we could desire, full -of the most beautiful trees in the world," which he goes on to -describe. But we merely slept and woke again to find that we had -passed through all that country which he was eight days in sailing -through. He must have had a troubled sleep. We were not long enough on -the river to realize that it had length; we got only the impression of -its breadth, as if we had passed over a lake a mile or two in breadth -and several miles long, though we might thus have slept through a -European kingdom. Being at the head of Lake St. Peter, on the -above-mentioned 28th of September, dealing with the natives, Cartier -says: "We inquired of them by signs if this was the route to Hochelaga -[Montreal]; and they answered that it was, and that there were yet -three days' journeys to go there." He finally arrived at Hochelaga on -the 2d of October. - -When I went on deck at dawn we had already passed through Lake St. -Peter, and saw islands ahead of us. Our boat advancing with a strong -and steady pulse over the calm surface, we felt as if we were -permitted to be awake in the scenery of a dream. Many vivacious -Lombardy poplars along the distant shores gave them a novel and -lively, though artificial, look, and contrasted strangely with the -slender and graceful elms on both shores and islands. The church of -Varennes, fifteen miles from Montreal, was conspicuous at a great -distance before us, appearing to belong to, and rise out of, the -river; and now, and before, Mount Royal indicated where the city was. -We arrived about seven o'clock, and set forth immediately to ascend -the mountain, two miles distant, going across lots in spite of -numerous signs threatening the severest penalties to trespassers, past -an old building known as the MacTavish property,--Simon MacTavish, I -suppose, whom Silliman refers to as "in a sense the founder of the -Northwestern Company." His tomb was behind in the woods, with a -remarkably high wall and higher monument. The family returned to -Europe. He could not have imagined how dead he would be in a few -years, and all the more dead and forgotten for being buried under such -a mass of gloomy stone, where not even memory could get at him without -a crowbar. Ah! poor man, with that last end of his! However, he may -have been the worthiest of mortals for aught that I know. From the -mountain-top we got a view of the whole city; the flat, fertile, -extensive island; the noble sea of the St. Lawrence swelling into -lakes; the mountains about St. Hyacinthe, and in Vermont and New York; -and the mouth of the Ottawa in the west, overlooking that St. Anne's -where the voyageur sings his "parting hymn," and bids adieu to -civilization,--a name, thanks to Moore's verses, the most suggestive -of poetic associations of any in Canada. We, too, climbed the hill -which Cartier, first of white men, ascended, and named Mont-real (the -3d of October, O. S., 1535), and, like him, "we saw the said river as -far as we could see, _grand_, _large_, _et spacieux_, going to -the southwest," toward that land whither Donnacona had told the -discoverer that he had been a month's journey from Canada, where there -grew "_force Canelle et Girofle_," much cinnamon and cloves, and where -also, as the natives told him, were three great lakes and afterward -_une mer douce_,--a sweet sea,--_de laquelle n'est mention avoir vu le -bout_, of which there is no mention to have seen the end. But instead -of an Indian town far in the interior of a new world, with guides to -show us where the river came from, we found a splendid and bustling -stone-built city of white men, and only a few squalid Indians offered -to sell us baskets at the Lachine Railroad Depot, and Hochelaga is, -perchance, but the fancy name of an engine company or an eating-house. - - [Illustration: _Montreal from Mount Royal_] - -We left Montreal Wednesday, the 2d of October, late in the afternoon. -In the La Prairie cars the Yankees made themselves merry, imitating -the cries of the charette-drivers to perfection, greatly to the -amusement of some French-Canadian travelers, and they kept it up all -the way to Boston. I saw one person on board the boat at St. Johns, -and one or two more elsewhere in Canada, wearing homespun gray -greatcoats, or capotes, with conical and comical hoods, which fell -back between their shoulders like small bags, ready to be turned up -over the head when occasion required, though a hat usurped that place -now. They looked as if they would be convenient and proper enough as -long as the coats were new and tidy, but would soon come to have a -beggarly and unsightly look, akin to rags and dust-holes. We reached -Burlington early in the morning, where the Yankees tried to pass off -their Canada coppers, but the newsboys knew better. Returning through -the Green Mountains, I was reminded that I had not seen in Canada such -brilliant autumnal tints as I had previously seen in Vermont. Perhaps -there was not yet so great and sudden a contrast with the summer heats -in the former country as in these mountain valleys. As we were passing -through Ashburnham, by a new white house which stood at some distance -in a field, one passenger exclaimed, so that all in the car could hear -him, "There, there's not so good a house as that in all Canada!" I did -not much wonder at his remark, for there is a neatness, as well as -evident prosperity, a certain elastic easiness of circumstances, so to -speak, when not rich, about a New England house, as if the proprietor -could at least afford to make repairs in the spring, which the -Canadian houses do not suggest. Though of stone, they are no better -constructed than a stone barn would be with us; the only building, -except the château, on which money and taste are expended, being the -church. In Canada an ordinary New England house would be mistaken for -the château, and while every village here contains at least several -gentlemen or "squires," _there_ there is but one to a seigniory. - -I got home this Thursday evening, having spent just one week in Canada -and traveled eleven hundred miles. The whole expense of this journey, -including two guide-books and a map, which cost one dollar twelve and -a half cents, was twelve dollars seventy-five cents. I do not suppose -that I have seen all British America; that could not be done by a -cheap excursion, unless it were a cheap excursion to the Icy Sea, as -seen by Hearne or Mackenzie, and then, no doubt, some interesting -features would be omitted. I wished to go a little way behind the word -_Canadense_, of which naturalists make such frequent use; and I should -like still right well to make a longer excursion on foot through the -wilder parts of Canada, which perhaps might be called _Iter -Canadense_. - - - - -NATURAL HISTORY OF MASSACHUSETTS[3] - - -Books of natural history make the most cheerful winter reading. I read -in Audubon with a thrill of delight, when the snow covers the ground, -of the magnolia, and the Florida keys, and their warm sea-breezes; of -the fence-rail, and the cotton-tree, and the migrations of the -rice-bird; of the breaking up of winter in Labrador, and the melting -of the snow on the forks of the Missouri; and owe an accession of -health to these reminiscences of luxuriant nature. - - Within the circuit of this plodding life, - There enter moments of an azure hue, - Untarnished fair as is the violet - Or anemone, when the spring strews them - By some meandering rivulet, which make - The best philosophy untrue that aims - But to console man for his grievances. - I have remembered, when the winter came, - High in my chamber in the frosty nights, - When in the still light of the cheerful moon, - On every twig and rail and jutting spout, - The icy spears were adding to their length - Against the arrows of the coming sun, - How in the shimmering noon of summer past - Some unrecorded beam slanted across - The upland pastures where the Johnswort grew; - Or heard, amid the verdure of my mind, - The bee's long smothered hum, on the blue flag - Loitering amidst the mead; or busy rill, - Which now through all its course stands still and dumb, - Its own memorial,--purling at its play - Along the slopes, and through the meadows next, - Until its youthful sound was hushed at last - In the staid current of the lowland stream; - Or seen the furrows shine but late upturned, - And where the fieldfare followed in the rear, - When all the fields around lay bound and hoar - Beneath a thick integument of snow. - So by God's cheap economy made rich - To go upon my winter's task again. - -I am singularly refreshed in winter when I hear of service-berries, -poke-weed, juniper. Is not heaven made up of these cheap summer -glories? There is a singular health in those words, Labrador and East -Main, which no desponding creed recognizes. How much more than Federal -are these States! If there were no other vicissitudes than the -seasons, our interest would never tire. Much more is adoing than -Congress wots of. What journal do the persimmon and the buckeye keep, -and the sharp-shinned hawk? What is transpiring from summer to winter -in the Carolinas, and the Great Pine Forest, and the Valley of the -Mohawk? The merely political aspect of the land is never very -cheering; men are degraded when considered as the members of a -political organization. On this side all lands present only the -symptoms of decay. I see but Bunker Hill and Sing-Sing, the District -of Columbia and Sullivan's Island, with a few avenues connecting them. -But paltry are they all beside one blast of the east or the south wind -which blows over them. - -In society you will not find health, but in nature. Unless our feet at -least stood in the midst of nature, all our faces would be pale and -livid. Society is always diseased, and the best is the most so. There -is no scent in it so wholesome as that of the pines, nor any fragrance -so penetrating and restorative as the life-everlasting in high -pastures. I would keep some book of natural history always by me as a -sort of elixir, the reading of which should restore the tone of the -system. To the sick, indeed, nature is sick, but to the well, a -fountain of health. To him who contemplates a trait of natural beauty -no harm nor disappointment can come. The doctrines of despair, of -spiritual or political tyranny or servitude, were never taught by such -as shared the serenity of nature. Surely good courage will not flag -here on the Atlantic border, as long as we are flanked by the Fur -Countries. There is enough in that sound to cheer one under any -circumstances. The spruce, the hemlock, and the pine will not -countenance despair. Methinks some creeds in vestries and churches do -forget the hunter wrapped in furs by the Great Slave Lake, and that -the Esquimaux sledges are drawn by dogs, and in the twilight of the -northern night the hunter does not give over to follow the seal and -walrus on the ice. They are of sick and diseased imaginations who -would toll the world's knell so soon. Cannot these sedentary sects do -better than prepare the shrouds and write the epitaphs of those other -busy living men? The practical faith of all men belies the preacher's -consolation. What is any man's discourse to me, if I am not sensible -of something in it as steady and cheery as the creak of crickets? In -it the woods must be relieved against the sky. Men tire me when I am -not constantly greeted and refreshed as by the flux of sparkling -streams. Surely joy is the condition of life. Think of the young fry -that leap in ponds, the myriads of insects ushered into being on a -summer evening, the incessant note of the hyla with which the woods -ring in the spring, the nonchalance of the butterfly carrying accident -and change painted in a thousand hues upon its wings, or the brook -minnow stoutly stemming the current, the lustre of whose scales, worn -bright by the attrition, is reflected upon the bank! - -We fancy that this din of religion, literature, and philosophy, which -is heard in pulpits, lyceums, and parlors, vibrates through the -universe, and is as catholic a sound as the creaking of the earth's -axle; but if a man sleep soundly, he will forget it all between sunset -and dawn. It is the three-inch swing of a pendulum in a cupboard, -which the great pulse of nature vibrates by and through each instant. -When we lift our eyelids and open our ears, it disappears with smoke -and rattle like the cars on a railroad. When I detect a beauty in any -of the recesses of nature, I am reminded, by the serene and retired -spirit in which it requires to be contemplated, of the inexpressible -privacy of a life,--how silent and unambitious it is. The beauty there -is in mosses must be considered from the holiest, quietest nook. What -an admirable training is science for the more active warfare of life! -Indeed, the unchallenged bravery which these studies imply, is far -more impressive than the trumpeted valor of the warrior. I am pleased -to learn that Thales was up and stirring by night not unfrequently, -as his astronomical discoveries prove. Linnæus, setting out for -Lapland, surveys his "comb" and "spare shirt," "leathern breeches" and -"gauze cap to keep off gnats," with as much complacency as Bonaparte a -park of artillery for the Russian campaign. The quiet bravery of the -man is admirable. His eye is to take in fish, flower, and bird, -quadruped and biped. Science is always brave; for to know is to know -good; doubt and danger quail before her eye. What the coward overlooks -in his hurry, she calmly scrutinizes, breaking ground like a pioneer -for the array of arts that follow in her train. But cowardice is -unscientific; for there cannot be a science of ignorance. There may be -a science of bravery, for that advances; but a retreat is rarely well -conducted; if it is, then is it an orderly advance in the face of -circumstances. - -But to draw a little nearer to our promised topics. Entomology extends -the limits of being in a new direction, so that I walk in nature with -a sense of greater space and freedom. It suggests besides, that the -universe is not rough-hewn, but perfect in its details. Nature will -bear the closest inspection; she invites us to lay our eye level with -the smallest leaf, and take an insect view of its plain. She has no -interstices; every part is full of life. I explore, too, with -pleasure, the sources of the myriad sounds which crowd the summer -noon, and which seem the very grain and stuff of which eternity is -made. Who does not remember the shrill roll-call of the harvest-fly? -There were ears for these sounds in Greece long ago, as Anacreon's ode -will show. - - "We pronounce thee happy, Cicada, - For on the tops of the trees, - Drinking a little dew, - Like any king thou singest, - For thine are they all, - Whatever thou seest in the fields, - And whatever the woods bear. - Thou art the friend of the husbandmen, - In no respect injuring any one; - And thou art honored among men, - Sweet prophet of summer. - The Muses love thee, - And Phoebus himself loves thee, - And has given thee a shrill song; - Age does not wrack thee, - Thou skillful, earthborn, song-loving, - Unsuffering, bloodless one; - Almost thou art like the gods." - -In the autumn days, the creaking of crickets is heard at noon over all -the land, and as in summer they are heard chiefly at nightfall, so -then by their incessant chirp they usher in the evening of the year. -Nor can all the vanities that vex the world alter one whit the measure -that night has chosen. Every pulse-beat is in exact time with the -cricket's chant and the tickings of the deathwatch in the wall. -Alternate with these if you can. - -About two hundred and eighty birds either reside permanently in the -State, or spend the summer only, or make us a passing visit. Those -which spend the winter with us have obtained our warmest sympathy. The -nuthatch and chickadee flitting in company through the dells of the -wood, the one harshly scolding at the intruder, the other with a faint -lisping note enticing him on; the jay screaming in the orchard; the -crow cawing in unison with the storm; the partridge, like a russet -link extended over from autumn to spring, preserving unbroken the -chain of summers; the hawk with warrior-like firmness abiding the -blasts of winter; the robin[4] and lark lurking by warm springs in the -woods; the familiar snowbird culling a few seeds in the garden or a -few crumbs in the yard; and occasionally the shrike, with heedless and -unfrozen melody bringing back summer again:-- - - His steady sails he never furls - At any time o' year, - And perching now on Winter's curls, - He whistles in his ear. - -As the spring advances, and the ice is melting in the river, our -earliest and straggling visitors make their appearance. Again does the -old Teian poet sing as well for New England as for Greece, in the - -RETURN OF SPRING - - Behold, how, Spring appearing, - The Graces send forth roses; - Behold, how the wave of the sea - Is made smooth by the calm; - Behold, how the duck dives; - Behold, how the crane travels; - And Titan shines constantly bright. - The shadows of the clouds are moving; - The works of man shine; - The earth puts forth fruits; - The fruit of the olive puts forth. - The cup of Bacchus is crowned, - Along the leaves, along the branches, - The fruit, bending them down, flourishes. - -The ducks alight at this season in the still water, in company with -the gulls, which do not fail to improve an east wind to visit our -meadows, and swim about by twos and threes, pluming themselves, and -diving to peck at the root of the lily, and the cranberries which the -frost has not loosened. The first flock of geese is seen beating to -north, in long harrows and waving lines; the jingle of the song -sparrow salutes us from the shrubs and fences; the plaintive note of -the lark comes clear and sweet from the meadow; and the bluebird, like -an azure ray, glances past us in our walk. The fish hawk, too, is -occasionally seen at this season sailing majestically over the water, -and he who has once observed it will not soon forget the majesty of -its flight. It sails the air like a ship of the line, worthy to -struggle with the elements, falling back from time to time like a ship -on its beam ends, and holding its talons up as if ready for the -arrows, in the attitude of the national bird. It is a great presence, -as of the master of river and forest. Its eye would not quail before -the owner of the soil, but make him feel like an intruder on its -domains. And then its retreat, sailing so steadily away, is a kind of -advance. I have by me one of a pair of ospreys, which have for some -years fished in this vicinity, shot by a neighboring pond, measuring -more than two feet in length, and six in the stretch of its wings. -Nuttall mentions that "the ancients, particularly Aristotle, pretended -that the ospreys taught their young to gaze at the sun, and those who -were unable to do so were destroyed. Linnæus even believed, on ancient -authority, that one of the feet of this bird had all the toes divided, -while the other was partly webbed, so that it could swim with one -foot, and grasp a fish with the other." But that educated eye is now -dim, and those talons are nerveless. Its shrill scream seems yet to -linger in its throat, and the roar of the sea in its wings. There is -the tyranny of Jove in its claws, and his wrath in the erectile -feathers of the head and neck. It reminds me of the Argonautic -expedition, and would inspire the dullest to take flight over -Parnassus. - -The booming of the bittern, described by Goldsmith and Nuttall, is -frequently heard in our fens, in the morning and evening, sounding -like a pump, or the chopping of wood in a frosty morning in some -distant farm-yard. The manner in which this sound is produced I have -not seen anywhere described. On one occasion, the bird has been seen -by one of my neighbors to thrust its bill into the water, and suck up -as much as it could hold, then, raising its head, it pumped it out -again with four or five heaves of the neck, throwing it two or three -feet, and making the sound each time. - -At length the summer's eternity is ushered in by the cackle of the -flicker among the oaks on the hillside, and a new dynasty begins with -calm security. - -In May and June the woodland quire is in full tune, and, given the -immense spaces of hollow air, and this curious human ear, one does -not see how the void could be better filled. - - Each summer sound - Is a summer round. - -As the season advances, and those birds which make us but a passing -visit depart, the woods become silent again, and but few feathers -ruffle the drowsy air. But the solitary rambler may still find a -response and expression for every mood in the depths of the wood. - - Sometimes I hear the veery's[5] clarion, - Or brazen trump of the impatient jay, - And in secluded woods the chickadee - Doles out her scanty notes, which sing the praise - Of heroes, and set forth the loveliness - Of virtue evermore. - -The phoebe still sings in harmony with the sultry weather by the -brink of the pond, nor are the desultory hours of noon in the midst of -the village without their minstrel. - - Upon the lofty elm-tree sprays - The vireo rings the changes sweet, - During the trivial summer days, - Striving to lift our thoughts above the street. - -With the autumn begins in some measure a new spring. The plover is -heard whistling high in the air over the dry pastures, the finches -flit from tree to tree, the bobolinks and flickers fly in flocks, and -the goldfinch rides on the earliest blast, like a winged hyla peeping -amid the rustle of the leaves. The crows, too, begin now to -congregate; you may stand and count them as they fly low and -straggling over the landscape, singly or by twos and threes, at -intervals of half a mile, until a hundred have passed. - -I have seen it suggested somewhere that the crow was brought to this -country by the white man; but I shall as soon believe that the white -man planted these pines and hemlocks. He is no spaniel to follow our -steps; but rather flits about the clearings like the dusky spirit of -the Indian, reminding me oftener of Philip and Powhatan than of -Winthrop and Smith. He is a relic of the dark ages. By just so slight, -by just so lasting a tenure does superstition hold the world ever; -there is the rook in England, and the crow in New England. - - Thou dusky spirit of the wood, - Bird of an ancient brood, - Flitting thy lonely way, - A meteor in the summer's day, - From wood to wood, from hill to hill, - Low over forest, field, and rill, - What wouldst thou say? - Why shouldst thou haunt the day? - What makes thy melancholy float? - What bravery inspires thy throat, - And bears thee up above the clouds, - Over desponding human crowds, - Which far below - Lay thy haunts low? - -The late walker or sailor, in the October evenings, may hear the -murmurings of the snipe, circling over the meadows, the most -spirit-like sound in nature; and still later in the autumn, when the -frosts have tinged the leaves, a solitary loon pays a visit to our -retired ponds, where he may lurk undisturbed till the season of -moulting is passed, making the woods ring with his wild laughter. This -bird, the Great Northern Diver, well deserves its name; for when -pursued with a boat, it will dive, and swim like a fish under water, -for sixty rods or more, as fast as a boat can be paddled, and its -pursuer, if he would discover his game again, must put his ear to the -surface to hear where it comes up. When it comes to the surface, it -throws the water off with one shake of its wings, and calmly swims -about until again disturbed. - -These are the sights and sounds which reach our senses oftenest during -the year. But sometimes one hears a quite new note, which has for -background other Carolinas and Mexicos than the books describe, and -learns that his ornithology has done him no service. - -It appears from the Report that there are about forty quadrupeds -belonging to the State, and among these one is glad to hear of a few -bears, wolves, lynxes, and wildcats. - -When our river overflows its banks in the spring, the wind from the -meadows is laden with a strong scent of musk, and by its freshness -advertises me of an unexplored wildness. Those backwoods are not far -off then. I am affected by the sight of the cabins of the muskrat, -made of mud and grass, and raised three or four feet along the river, -as when I read of the barrows of Asia. The muskrat is the beaver of -the settled States. Their number has even increased within a few -years in this vicinity. Among the rivers which empty into the -Merrimack, the Concord is known to the boatmen as a dead stream. The -Indians are said to have called it Musketaquid, or Prairie River. Its -current being much more sluggish and its water more muddy than the -rest, it abounds more in fish and game of every kind. According to the -History of the town, "The fur-trade was here once very important. As -early as 1641, a company was formed in the colony, of which Major -Willard of Concord was superintendent, and had the exclusive right to -trade with the Indians in furs and other articles; and for this right -they were obliged to pay into the public treasury one twentieth of all -the furs they obtained." There are trappers in our midst still, as -well as on the streams of the far West, who night and morning go the -round of their traps, without fear of the Indian. One of these takes -from one hundred and fifty to two hundred muskrats in a year, and even -thirty-six have been shot by one man in a day. Their fur, which is not -nearly as valuable as formerly, is in good condition in the winter and -spring only; and upon the breaking up of the ice, when they are driven -out of their holes by the water, the greatest number is shot from -boats, either swimming or resting on their stools, or slight supports -of grass and reeds, by the side of the stream. Though they exhibit -considerable cunning at other times, they are easily taken in a trap, -which has only to be placed in their holes, or wherever they frequent, -without any bait being used, though it is sometimes rubbed with their -musk. In the winter the hunter cuts holes in the ice, and shoots them -when they come to the surface. Their burrows are usually in the high -banks of the river, with the entrance under water, and rising within -to above the level of high water. Sometimes their nests, composed of -dried meadow-grass and flags, may be discovered where the bank is low -and spongy, by the yielding of the ground under the feet. They have -from three to seven or eight young in the spring. - -Frequently, in the morning or evening, a long ripple is seen in the -still water, where a muskrat is crossing the stream, with only its -nose above the surface, and sometimes a green bough in its mouth to -build its house with. When it finds itself observed, it will dive and -swim five or six rods under water, and at length conceal itself in its -hole, or the weeds. It will remain under water for ten minutes at a -time, and on one occasion has been seen, when undisturbed, to form an -air-bubble under the ice, which contracted and expanded as it breathed -at leisure. When it suspects danger on shore, it will stand erect like -a squirrel, and survey its neighborhood for several minutes, without -moving. - -In the fall, if a meadow intervene between their burrows and the -stream, they erect cabins of mud and grass, three or four feet high, -near its edge. These are not their breeding-places, though young are -sometimes found in them in late freshets, but rather their -hunting-lodges, to which they resort in the winter with their food, -and for shelter. Their food consists chiefly of flags and fresh-water -mussels, the shells of the latter being left in large quantities -around their lodges in the spring. - -The Penobscot Indian wears the entire skin of a muskrat, with the -legs and tail dangling, and the head caught under his girdle, for a -pouch, into which he puts his fishing-tackle, and essences to scent -his traps with. - -The bear, wolf, lynx, wildcat, deer, beaver, and marten have -disappeared; the otter is rarely if ever seen here at present; and the -mink is less common than formerly. - -Perhaps of all our untamed quadrupeds, the fox has obtained the widest -and most familiar reputation, from the time of Pilpay and Æsop to the -present day. His recent tracks still give variety to a winter's walk. -I tread in the steps of the fox that has gone before me by some hours, -or which perhaps I have started, with such a tiptoe of expectation as -if I were on the trail of the Spirit itself which resides in the wood, -and expected soon to catch it in its lair. I am curious to know what -has determined its graceful curvatures, and how surely they were -coincident with the fluctuations of some mind. I know which way a mind -wended, what horizon it faced, by the setting of these tracks, and -whether it moved slowly or rapidly, by their greater or less intervals -and distinctness; for the swiftest step leaves yet a lasting trace. -Sometimes you will see the trails of many together, and where they -have gamboled and gone through a hundred evolutions, which testify to -a singular listlessness and leisure in nature. - -When I see a fox run across the pond on the snow, with the -carelessness of freedom, or at intervals trace his course in the -sunshine along the ridge of a hill, I give up to him sun and earth as -to their true proprietor. He does not go in the sun, but it seems to -follow him, and there is a visible sympathy between him and it. -Sometimes, when the snow lies light and but five or six inches deep, -you may give chase and come up with one on foot. In such a case he -will show a remarkable presence of mind, choosing only the safest -direction, though he may lose ground by it. Notwithstanding his -fright, he will take no step which is not beautiful. His pace is a -sort of leopard canter, as if he were in no wise impeded by the snow, -but were husbanding his strength all the while. When the ground is -uneven, the course is a series of graceful curves, conforming to the -shape of the surface. He runs as though there were not a bone in his -back. Occasionally dropping his muzzle to the ground for a rod or two, -and then tossing his head aloft, when satisfied of his course. When he -comes to a declivity, he will put his fore feet together, and slide -swiftly down it, shoving the snow before him. He treads so softly that -you would hardly hear it from any nearness, and yet with such -expression that it would not be quite inaudible at any distance. - -Of fishes, seventy-five genera and one hundred and seven species are -described in the Report. The fisherman will be startled to learn that -there are but about a dozen kinds in the ponds and streams of any -inland town; and almost nothing is known of their habits. Only their -names and residence make one love fishes. I would know even the number -of their fin-rays, and how many scales compose the lateral line. I am -the wiser in respect to all knowledges, and the better qualified for -all fortunes, for knowing that there is a minnow in the brook. -Methinks I have need even of his sympathy, and to be his fellow in a -degree. - -I have experienced such simple delight in the trivial matters of -fishing and sporting, formerly, as might have inspired the muse of -Homer or Shakespeare; and now, when I turn the pages and ponder the -plates of the Angler's Souvenir, I am fain to exclaim,-- - - "Can such things be, - And overcome us like a summer's cloud?" - -Next to nature, it seems as if man's actions were the most natural, -they so gently accord with her. The small seines of flax stretched -across the shallow and transparent parts of our river are no more -intrusion than the cobweb in the sun. I stay my boat in mid-current, -and look down in the sunny water to see the civil meshes of his nets, -and wonder how the blustering people of the town could have done this -elvish work. The twine looks like a new river-weed, and is to the -river as a beautiful memento of man's presence in nature, discovered -as silently and delicately as a footprint in the sand. - -When the ice is covered with snow, I do not suspect the wealth under -my feet; that there is as good as a mine under me wherever I go. How -many pickerel are poised on easy fin fathoms below the loaded wain! -The revolution of the seasons must be a curious phenomenon to them. At -length the sun and wind brush aside their curtain, and they see the -heavens again. - -Early in the spring, after the ice has melted, is the time for -spearing fish. Suddenly the wind shifts from northeast and east to -west and south, and every icicle, which has tinkled on the meadow -grass so long, trickles down its stem, and seeks its level unerringly -with a million comrades. The steam curls up from every roof and -fence. - - I see the civil sun drying earth's tears, - Her tears of joy, which only faster flow. - -In the brooks is heard the slight grating sound of small cakes of ice, -floating with various speed, full of content and promise, and where -the water gurgles under a natural bridge, you may hear these hasty -rafts hold conversation in an undertone. Every rill is a channel for -the juices of the meadow. In the ponds the ice cracks with a merry and -inspiriting din, and down the larger streams is whirled grating -hoarsely, and crashing its way along, which was so lately a highway -for the woodman's team and the fox, sometimes with the tracks of the -skaters still fresh upon it, and the holes cut for pickerel. Town -committees anxiously inspect the bridges and causeways, as if by mere -eye-force to intercede with the ice and save the treasury. - - The river swelleth more and more, - Like some sweet influence stealing o'er - The passive town; and for a while - Each tussock makes a tiny isle, - Where, on some friendly Ararat, - Resteth the weary water-rat. - - No ripple shows Musketaquid, - Her very current e'en is hid, - As deepest souls do calmest rest - When thoughts are swelling in the breast, - And she that in the summer's drought - Doth make a rippling and a rout, - Sleeps from Nahshawtuck to the Cliff, - Unruffled by a single skiff. - But by a thousand distant hills - The louder roar a thousand rills, - And many a spring which now is dumb, - And many a stream with smothered hum, - Doth swifter well and faster glide, - Though buried deep beneath the tide. - Our village shows a rural Venice, - Its broad lagoons where yonder fen is; - As lovely as the Bay of Naples - Yon placid cove amid the maples; - And in my neighbor's field of corn - I recognize the Golden Horn. - - Here Nature taught from year to year, - When only red men came to hear,-- - Methinks 't was in this school of art - Venice and Naples learned their part; - But still their mistress, to my mind, - Her young disciples leaves behind. - -The fisherman now repairs and launches his boat. The best time for -spearing is at this season, before the weeds have begun to grow, and -while the fishes lie in the shallow water, for in summer they prefer -the cool depths, and in the autumn they are still more or less -concealed by the grass. The first requisite is fuel for your crate; -and for this purpose the roots of the pitch pine are commonly used, -found under decayed stumps, where the trees have been felled eight or -ten years. - -With a crate, or jack, made of iron hoops, to contain your fire, and -attached to the bow of your boat about three feet from the water, a -fish-spear with seven tines and fourteen feet long, a large basket or -barrow to carry your fuel and bring back your fish, and a thick outer -garment, you are equipped for a cruise. It should be a warm and still -evening; and then, with a fire crackling merrily at the prow, you may -launch forth like a cucullo into the night. The dullest soul cannot -go upon such an expedition without some of the spirit of adventure; as -if he had stolen the boat of Charon and gone down the Styx on a -midnight expedition into the realms of Pluto. And much speculation -does this wandering star afford to the musing night-walker, leading -him on and on, jack-o'-lantern-like, over the meadows; or, if he is -wiser, he amuses himself with imagining what of human life, far in the -silent night, is flitting moth-like round its candle. The silent -navigator shoves his craft gently over the water, with a smothered -pride and sense of benefaction, as if he were the phosphor, or -light-bringer, to these dusky realms, or some sister moon, blessing -the spaces with her light. The waters, for a rod or two on either hand -and several feet in depth, are lit up with more than noonday -distinctness, and he enjoys the opportunity which so many have -desired, for the roofs of a city are indeed raised, and he surveys the -midnight economy of the fishes. There they lie in every variety of -posture; some on their backs, with their white bellies uppermost, some -suspended in mid-water, some sculling gently along with a dreamy -motion of the fins, and others quite active and wide awake,--a scene -not unlike what the human city would present. Occasionally he will -encounter a turtle selecting the choicest morsels, or a muskrat -resting on a tussock. He may exercise his dexterity, if he sees fit, -on the more distant and active fish, or fork the nearer into his boat, -as potatoes out of a pot, or even take the sound sleepers with his -hands. But these last accomplishments he will soon learn to dispense -with, distinguishing the real object of his pursuit, and find -compensation in the beauty and never-ending novelty of his position. -The pines growing down to the water's edge will show newly as in the -glare of a conflagration; and as he floats under the willows with his -light, the song sparrow will often wake on her perch, and sing that -strain at midnight which she had meditated for the morning. And when -he has done, he may have to steer his way home through the dark by the -north star, and he will feel himself some degrees nearer to it for -having lost his way on the earth. - -The fishes commonly taken in this way are pickerel, suckers, perch, -eels, pouts, breams, and shiners,--from thirty to sixty weight in a -night. Some are hard to be recognized in the unnatural light, -especially the perch, which, his dark bands being exaggerated, -acquires a ferocious aspect. The number of these transverse bands, -which the Report states to be seven, is, however, very variable, for -in some of our ponds they have nine and ten even. - -It appears that we have eight kinds of tortoises, twelve snakes,--but -one of which is venomous,--nine frogs and toads, nine salamanders, and -one lizard, for our neighbors. - -I am particularly attracted by the motions of the serpent tribe. They -make our hands and feet, the wings of the bird, and the fins of the -fish seem very superfluous, as if Nature had only indulged her fancy -in making them. The black snake will dart into a bush when pursued, -and circle round and round with an easy and graceful motion, amid the -thin and bare twigs, five or six feet from the ground, as a bird flits -from bough to bough, or hang in festoons between the forks. -Elasticity and flexibleness in the simpler forms of animal life are -equivalent to a complex system of limbs in the higher; and we have -only to be as wise and wily as the serpent, to perform as difficult -feats without the vulgar assistance of hands and feet. - -In May, the snapping turtle (_Emysaurus serpentina_) is frequently -taken on the meadows and in the river. The fisherman, taking sight -over the calm surface, discovers its snout projecting above the water, -at the distance of many rods, and easily secures his prey through its -unwillingness to disturb the water by swimming hastily away, for, -gradually drawing its head under, it remains resting on some limb or -clump of grass. Its eggs, which are buried at a distance from the -water, in some soft place, as a pigeon-bed, are frequently devoured by -the skunk. It will catch fish by daylight, as a toad catches flies, -and is said to emit a transparent fluid from its mouth to attract -them. - -Nature has taken more care than the fondest parent for the education -and refinement of her children. Consider the silent influence which -flowers exert, no less upon the ditcher in the meadow than the lady in -the bower. When I walk in the woods, I am reminded that a wise -purveyor has been there before me; my most delicate experience is -typified there. I am struck with the pleasing friendships and -unanimities of nature, as when the lichen on the trees takes the form -of their leaves. In the most stupendous scenes you will see delicate -and fragile features, as slight wreaths of vapor, dew-lines, feathery -sprays, which suggest a high refinement, a noble blood and breeding, -as it were. It is not hard to account for elves and fairies; they -represent this light grace, this ethereal gentility. Bring a spray -from the wood, or a crystal from the brook, and place it on your -mantel, and your household ornaments will seem plebeian beside its -nobler fashion and bearing. It will wave superior there, as if used to -a more refined and polished circle. It has a salute and a response to -all your enthusiasm and heroism. - -In the winter, I stop short in the path to admire how the trees grow -up without forethought, regardless of the time and circumstances. They -do not wait as man does, but now is the golden age of the sapling. -Earth, air, sun, and rain are occasion enough; they were no better in -primeval centuries. The "winter of _their_ discontent" never comes. -Witness the buds of the native poplar standing gayly out to the frost -on the sides of its bare switches. They express a naked confidence. -With cheerful heart one could be a sojourner in the wilderness, if he -were sure to find there the catkins of the willow or the alder. When I -read of them in the accounts of northern adventurers, by Baffin's Bay -or Mackenzie's River, I see how even there, too, I could dwell. They -are our little vegetable redeemers. Methinks our virtue will hold out -till they come again. They are worthy to have had a greater than -Minerva or Ceres for their inventor. Who was the benignant goddess -that bestowed them on mankind? - -Nature is mythical and mystical always, and works with the license and -extravagance of genius. She has her luxurious and florid style as well -as art. Having a pilgrim's cup to make, she gives to the whole--stem, -bowl, handle, and nose--some fantastic shape, as if it were to be the -car of some fabulous marine deity, a Nereus or Triton. - -In the winter, the botanist need not confine himself to his books and -herbarium, and give over his outdoor pursuits, but may study a new -department of vegetable physiology, what may be called crystalline -botany, then. The winter of 1837 was unusually favorable for this. In -December of that year, the Genius of vegetation seemed to hover by -night over its summer haunts with unusual persistency. Such a -hoar-frost as is very uncommon here or anywhere, and whose full -effects can never be witnessed after sunrise, occurred several times. -As I went forth early on a still and frosty morning, the trees looked -like airy creatures of darkness caught napping; on this side huddled -together, with their gray hairs streaming, in a secluded valley which -the sun had not penetrated; on that, hurrying off in Indian file along -some watercourse, while the shrubs and grasses, like elves and fairies -of the night, sought to hide their diminished heads in the snow. The -river, viewed from the high bank, appeared of a yellowish-green color, -though all the landscape was white. Every tree, shrub, and spire of -grass, that could raise its head above the snow, was covered with a -dense ice-foliage, answering, as it were, leaf for leaf to its summer -dress. Even the fences had put forth leaves in the night. The centre, -diverging, and more minute fibres were perfectly distinct, and the -edges regularly indented. These leaves were on the side of the twig or -stubble opposite to the sun, meeting it for the most part at right -angles, and there were others standing out at all possible angles upon -these and upon one another, with no twig or stubble supporting them. -When the first rays of the sun slanted over the scene, the grasses -seemed hung with innumerable jewels, which jingled merrily as they -were brushed by the foot of the traveler, and reflected all the hues -of the rainbow, as he moved from side to side. It struck me that these -ghost leaves, and the green ones whose forms they assume, were the -creatures of but one law; that in obedience to the same law the -vegetable juices swell gradually into the perfect leaf, on the one -hand, and the crystalline particles troop to their standard in the -same order, on the other. As if the material were indifferent, but the -law one and invariable, and every plant in the spring but pushed up -into and filled a permanent and eternal mould, which, summer and -winter forever, is waiting to be filled. - -This foliate structure is common to the coral and the plumage of -birds, and to how large a part of animate and inanimate nature. The -same independence of law on matter is observable in many other -instances, as in the natural rhymes, when some animal form, color, or -odor has its counterpart in some vegetable. As, indeed, all rhymes -imply an eternal melody, independent of any particular sense. - -As confirmation of the fact that vegetation is but a kind of -crystallization, every one may observe how, upon the edge of the -melting frost on the window, the needle-shaped particles are bundled -together so as to resemble fields waving with grain, or shocks rising -here and there from the stubble; on one side the vegetation of the -torrid zone, high-towering palms and wide-spread banyans, such as are -seen in pictures of oriental scenery; on the other, arctic pines stiff -frozen, with downcast branches. - -Vegetation has been made the type of all growth; but as in crystals -the law is more obvious, their material being more simple, and for the -most part more transient and fleeting, would it not be as -philosophical as convenient to consider all growth, all filling up -within the limits of nature, but a crystallization more or less rapid? - -On this occasion, in the side of the high bank of the river, wherever -the water or other cause had formed a cavity, its throat and outer -edge, like the entrance to a citadel, bristled with a glistening -ice-armor. In one place you might see minute ostrich-feathers, which -seemed the waving plumes of the warriors filing into the fortress; in -another, the glancing, fan-shaped banners of the Lilliputian host; and -in another, the needle-shaped particles collected into bundles, -resembling the plumes of the pine, might pass for a phalanx of spears. -From the under side of the ice in the brooks, where there was a -thicker ice below, depended a mass of crystallization, four or five -inches deep, in the form of prisms, with their lower ends open, which, -when the ice was laid on its smooth side, resembled the roofs and -steeples of a Gothic city, or the vessels of a crowded haven under a -press of canvas. The very mud in the road, where the ice had melted, -was crystallized with deep rectilinear fissures, and the crystalline -masses in the sides of the ruts resembled exactly asbestos in the -disposition of their needles. Around the roots of the stubble and -flower-stalks, the frost was gathered into the form of irregular -conical shells, or fairy rings. In some places the ice-crystals were -lying upon granite rocks, directly over crystals of quartz, the -frostwork of a longer night, crystals of a longer period, but, to some -eye unprejudiced by the short term of human life, melting as fast as -the former. - -In the Report on the Invertebrate Animals, this singular fact is -recorded, which teaches us to put a new value on time and space: "The -distribution of the marine shells is well worthy of notice as a -geological fact. Cape Cod, the right arm of the Commonwealth, reaches -out into the ocean, some fifty or sixty miles. It is nowhere many -miles wide; but this narrow point of land has hitherto proved a -barrier to the migrations of many species of Mollusca. Several genera -and numerous species, which are separated by the intervention of only -a few miles of land, are effectually prevented from mingling by the -Cape, and do not pass from one side to the other.... Of the one -hundred and ninety-seven marine species, eighty-three do not pass to -the south shore, and fifty are not found on the north shore of the -Cape." - -That common mussel, the _Unio complanatus_, or more properly -_fluviatilis_, left in the spring by the muskrat upon rocks and -stumps, appears to have been an important article of food with the -Indians. In one place, where they are said to have feasted, they are -found in large quantities, at an elevation of thirty feet above the -river, filling the soil to the depth of a foot, and mingled with ashes -and Indian remains. - -The works we have placed at the head of our chapter, with as much -license as the preacher selects his text, are such as imply more -labor than enthusiasm. The State wanted complete catalogues of its -natural riches, with such additional facts merely as would be directly -useful. - -The reports on Fishes, Reptiles, Insects, and Invertebrate Animals, -however, indicate labor and research, and have a value independent of -the object of the legislature. - -Those on Herbaceous Plants and Birds cannot be of much value, as long -as Bigelow and Nuttall are accessible. They serve but to indicate, -with more or less exactness, what species are found in the State. We -detect several errors ourselves, and a more practiced eye would no -doubt expand the list. - -The Quadrupeds deserved a more final and instructive report than they -have obtained. - -These volumes deal much in measurements and minute descriptions, not -interesting to the general reader, with only here and there a colored -sentence to allure him, like those plants growing in dark forests, -which bear only leaves without blossoms. But the ground was -comparatively unbroken, and we will not complain of the pioneer, if he -raises no flowers with his first crop. Let us not underrate the value -of a fact; it will one day flower in a truth. It is astonishing how -few facts of importance are added in a century to the natural history -of any animal. The natural history of man himself is still being -gradually written. Men are knowing enough after their fashion. Every -countryman and dairy-maid knows that the coats of the fourth stomach -of the calf will curdle milk, and what particular mushroom is a safe -and nutritious diet. You cannot go into any field or wood, but it -will seem as if every stone had been turned, and the bark on every -tree ripped up. But, after all, it is much easier to discover than to -see when the cover is off. It has been well said that "the attitude of -inspection is prone." Wisdom does not inspect, but behold. We must -look a long time before we can see. Slow are the beginnings of -philosophy. He has something demoniacal in him, who can discern a law -or couple two facts. We can imagine a time when "Water runs down hill" -may have been taught in the schools. The true man of science will know -nature better by his finer organization; he will smell, taste, see, -hear, feel, better than other men. His will be a deeper and finer -experience. We do not learn by inference and deduction and the -application of mathematics to philosophy, but by direct intercourse -and sympathy. It is with science as with ethics,--we cannot know truth -by contrivance and method; the Baconian is as false as any other, and -with all the helps of machinery and the arts, the most scientific will -still be the healthiest and friendliest man, and possess a more -perfect Indian wisdom. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[3] _Reports--on the Fishes, Reptiles, and Birds; the Herbaceous -Plants and Quadrupeds; the Insects Injurious to Vegetation; and the -Invertebrate Animals of Massachusetts._ Published agreeably to an -Order of the Legislature, by the Commissioners on the Zoölogical and -Botanical Survey of the State. - -[4] A white robin and a white quail have occasionally been seen. It is -mentioned in Audubon as remarkable that the nest of a robin should be -found on the ground; but this bird seems to be less particular than -most in the choice of a building-spot. I have seen its nest placed -under the thatched roof of a deserted barn, and in one instance, where -the adjacent country was nearly destitute of trees, together with two -of the phoebe, upon the end of a board in the loft of a sawmill, but -a few feet from the saw, which vibrated several inches with the motion -of the machinery. - -[5] This bird, which is so well described by Nuttall, but is -apparently unknown by the author of the Report, is one of the most -common in the woods in this vicinity, and in Cambridge I have heard -the college yard ring with its trill. The boys call it "yorrick," from -the sound of its querulous and chiding note, as it flits near the -traveler through the underwood. The cowbird's egg is occasionally -found in its nest, as mentioned by Audubon. - - - - -A WALK TO WACHUSETT - - CONCORD, July 19, 1842. - - The needles of the pine - All to the west incline. - - -Summer and winter our eyes had rested on the dim outline of the -mountains in our horizon, to which distance and indistinctness lent a -grandeur not their own, so that they served equally to interpret all -the allusions of poets and travelers; whether with Homer, on a spring -morning, we sat down on the many-peaked Olympus, or with Virgil and -his compeers roamed the Etrurian and Thessalian hills, or with -Humboldt measured the more modern Andes and Teneriffe. Thus we spoke -our mind to them, standing on the Concord cliffs:-- - - With frontier strength ye stand your ground, - With grand content ye circle round, - Tumultuous silence for all sound, - Ye distant nursery of rills, - Monadnock, and the Peterboro' hills; - Like some vast fleet, - Sailing through rain and sleet, - Through winter's cold and summer's heat; - Still holding on, upon your high emprise, - Until ye find a shore amid the skies; - Not skulking close to land, - With cargo contraband, - For they who sent a venture out by ye - Have set the sun to see - Their honesty. - Ships of the line, each one, - Ye to the westward run, - Always before the gale, - Under a press of sail, - With weight of metal all untold. - I seem to feel ye, in my firm seat here, - Immeasurable depth of hold, - And breadth of beam, and length of running gear. - - Methinks ye take luxurious pleasure - In your novel western leisure; - So cool your brows, and freshly blue, - As Time had nought for ye to do; - For ye lie at your length, - An unappropriated strength, - Unhewn primeval timber, - For knees so stiff, for masts so limber; - The stock of which new earths are made - One day to be our western trade, - Fit for the stanchions of a world - Which through the seas of space is hurled. - - While we enjoy a lingering ray, - Ye still o'ertop the western day, - Reposing yonder, on God's croft, - Like solid stacks of hay. - Edged with silver, and with gold, - The clouds hang o'er in damask fold, - And with such depth of amber light - The west is dight, - Where still a few rays slant, - That even heaven seems extravagant. - On the earth's edge mountains and trees - Stand as they were on air graven, - Or as the vessels in a haven - Await the morning breeze. - I fancy even - Through your defiles windeth the way to heaven; - And yonder still, in spite of history's page, - Linger the golden and the silver age; - Upon the laboring gale - The news of future centuries is brought, - And of new dynasties of thought, - From your remotest vale. - - But special I remember thee, - Wachusett, who like me - Standest alone without society. - Thy far blue eye, - A remnant of the sky, - Seen through the clearing or the gorge - Or from the windows of the forge, - Doth leaven all it passes by. - Nothing is true, - But stands 'tween me and you, - Thou western pioneer, - Who know'st not shame nor fear - By venturous spirit driven, - Under the eaves of heaven. - And canst expand thee there, - And breathe enough of air? - Upholding heaven, holding down earth, - Thy pastime from thy birth, - Not steadied by the one, nor leaning on the other; - May I approve myself thy worthy brother! - - [Illustration: _Mount Wachusett from the Wayland Hills_] - -At length, like Rasselas, and other inhabitants of happy valleys, we -resolved to scale the blue wall which bounded the western horizon, -though not without misgivings that thereafter no visible fairyland -would exist for us. But we will not leap at once to our journey's end, -though near, but imitate Homer, who conducts his reader over the -plain, and along the resounding sea, though it be but to the tent of -Achilles. In the spaces of thought are the reaches of land and water, -where men go and come. The landscape lies far and fair within, and the -deepest thinker is the farthest traveled. - -At a cool and early hour on a pleasant morning in July, my companion -and I passed rapidly through Acton and Stow, stopping to rest and -refresh us on the bank of a small stream, a tributary of the Assabet, -in the latter town. As we traversed the cool woods of Acton, with -stout staves in our hands, we were cheered by the song of the red-eye, -the thrushes, the phoebe, and the cuckoo; and as we passed through -the open country, we inhaled the fresh scent of every field, and all -nature lay passive, to be viewed and traveled. Every rail, every -farmhouse, seen dimly in the twilight, every tinkling sound told of -peace and purity, and we moved happily along the dank roads, enjoying -not such privacy as the day leaves when it withdraws, but such as it -has not profaned. It was solitude with light; which is better than -darkness. But anon, the sound of the mower's rifle was heard in the -fields, and this, too, mingled with the lowing of kine. - -This part of our route lay through the country of hops, which plant -perhaps supplies the want of the vine in American scenery, and may -remind the traveler of Italy and the South of France, whether he -traverses the country when the hop-fields, as then, present solid and -regular masses of verdure, hanging in graceful festoons from pole to -pole, the cool coverts where lurk the gales which refresh the -wayfarer; or in September, when the women and children, and the -neighbors from far and near, are gathered to pick the hops into long -troughs; or later still, when the poles stand piled in vast pyramids -in the yards, or lie in heaps by the roadside. - -The culture of the hop, with the processes of picking, drying in the -kiln, and packing for the market, as well as the uses to which it is -applied, so analogous to the culture and uses of the grape, may afford -a theme for future poets. - -The mower in the adjacent meadow could not tell us the name of the -brook on whose banks we had rested, or whether it had any, but his -younger companion, perhaps his brother, knew that it was Great Brook. -Though they stood very near together in the field, the things they -knew were very far apart; nor did they suspect each other's reserved -knowledge, till the stranger came by. In Bolton, while we rested on -the rails of a cottage fence, the strains of music which issued from -within, probably in compliment to us, sojourners, reminded us that -thus far men were fed by the accustomed pleasures. So soon did we, -wayfarers, begin to learn that man's life is rounded with the same few -facts, the same simple relations everywhere, and it is vain to travel -to find it new. The flowers grow more various ways than he. But coming -soon to higher land, which afforded a prospect of the mountains, we -thought we had not traveled in vain, if it were only to hear a truer -and wilder pronunciation of their names from the lips of the -inhabitants; not _Way_-tatic, _Way_-chusett, but _Wor_-tatic, -_Wor_-chusett. It made us ashamed of our tame and civil pronunciation, -and we looked upon them as born and bred farther west than we. Their -tongues had a more generous accent than ours, as if breath was cheaper -where they wagged. A countryman, who speaks but seldom, talks -copiously, as it were, as his wife sets cream and cheese before you -without stint. Before noon we had reached the highlands overlooking -the valley of Lancaster (affording the first fair and open prospect -into the west), and there, on the top of a hill, in the shade of some -oaks, near to where a spring bubbled out from a leaden pipe, we rested -during the heat of the day, reading Virgil and enjoying the scenery. -It was such a place as one feels to be on the outside of the earth; -for from it we could, in some measure, see the form and structure of -the globe. There lay Wachusett, the object of our journey, lowering -upon us with unchanged proportions, though with a less ethereal aspect -than had greeted our morning gaze, while further north, in successive -order, slumbered its sister mountains along the horizon. - -We could get no further into the Æneid than - - -- atque altae moenia Romae, - -- and the wall of high Rome, - -before we were constrained to reflect by what myriad tests a work of -genius has to be tried; that Virgil, away in Rome, two thousand years -off, should have to unfold his meaning, the inspiration of Italian -vales, to the pilgrim on New England hills. This life so raw and -modern, that so civil and ancient; and yet we read Virgil mainly to be -reminded of the identity of human nature in all ages, and, by the -poet's own account, we are both the children of a late age, and live -equally under the reign of Jupiter. - - "He shook honey from the leaves, and removed fire, - And stayed the wine, everywhere flowing in rivers; - That experience, by meditating, might invent various arts - By degrees, and seek the blade of corn in furrows, - And strike out hidden fire from the veins of the flint." - -The old world stands serenely behind the new, as one mountain yonder -towers behind another, more dim and distant. Rome imposes her story -still upon this late generation. The very children in the school we -had that morning passed had gone through her wars, and recited her -alarms, ere they had heard of the wars of neighboring Lancaster. The -roving eye still rests inevitably on her hills, and she still holds up -the skirts of the sky on that side, and makes the past remote. - -The lay of the land hereabouts is well worthy the attention of the -traveler. The hill on which we were resting made part of an extensive -range, running from southwest to northeast, across the country, and -separating the waters of the Nashua from those of the Concord, whose -banks we had left in the morning, and by bearing in mind this fact, we -could easily determine whither each brook was bound that crossed our -path. Parallel to this, and fifteen miles further west, beyond the -deep and broad valley in which lie Groton, Shirley, Lancaster, and -Boylston, runs the Wachusett range, in the same general direction. The -descent into the valley on the Nashua side is by far the most sudden; -and a couple of miles brought us to the southern branch of the Nashua, -a shallow but rapid stream, flowing between high and gravelly banks. -But we soon learned that these were no _gelidae valles_ into which we -had descended, and, missing the coolness of the morning air, feared it -had become the sun's turn to try his power upon us. - - "The sultry sun had gained the middle sky, - And not a tree, and not an herb was nigh," - -and with melancholy pleasure we echoed the melodious plaint of our -fellow-traveler, Hassan, in the desert,-- - - "Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, - When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way." - -The air lay lifeless between the hills, as in a seething caldron, with -no leaf stirring, and instead of the fresh odor of grass and clover, -with which we had before been regaled, the dry scent of every herb -seemed merely medicinal. Yielding, therefore, to the heat, we strolled -into the woods, and along the course of a rivulet, on whose banks we -loitered, observing at our leisure the products of these new fields. -He who traverses the woodland paths, at this season, will have -occasion to remember the small, drooping, bell-like flowers and -slender red stem of the dogsbane, and the coarser stem and berry of -the poke, which are both common in remoter and wilder scenes; and if -"the sun casts such a reflecting heat from the sweet-fern" as makes -him faint, when he is climbing the bare hills, as they complained who -first penetrated into these parts, the cool fragrance of the -swamp-pink restores him again, when traversing the valleys between. - -As we went on our way late in the afternoon, we refreshed ourselves by -bathing our feet in every rill that crossed the road, and anon, as we -were able to walk in the shadows of the hills, recovered our morning -elasticity. Passing through Sterling, we reached the banks of the -Stillwater, in the western part of the town, at evening, where is a -small village collected. We fancied that there was already a certain -western look about this place, a smell of pines and roar of water, -recently confined by dams, belying its name, which were exceedingly -grateful. When the first inroad has been made, a few acres leveled, -and a few houses erected, the forest looks wilder than ever. Left to -herself, nature is always more or less civilized, and delights in a -certain refinement; but where the axe has encroached upon the edge of -the forest, the dead and unsightly limbs of the pine, which she had -concealed with green banks of verdure, are exposed to sight. This -village had, as yet, no post-office, nor any settled name. In the -small villages which we entered, the villagers gazed after us, with a -complacent, almost compassionate look, as if we were just making our -_début_ in the world at a late hour. "Nevertheless," did they seem to -say, "come and study us, and learn men and manners." So is each one's -world but a clearing in the forest, so much open and inclosed ground. -The landlord had not yet returned from the field with his men, and the -cows had yet to be milked. But we remembered the inscription on the -wall of the Swedish inn, "You will find at Trolhate excellent bread, -meat, and wine, provided you bring them with you," and were contented. -But I must confess it did somewhat disturb our pleasure, in this -withdrawn spot, to have our own village newspaper handed us by our -host, as if the greatest charm the country offered to the traveler was -the facility of communication with the town. Let it recline on its own -everlasting hills, and not be looking out from their summits for some -petty Boston or New York in the horizon. - -At intervals we heard the murmuring of water, and the slumberous -breathing of crickets, throughout the night; and left the inn the next -morning in the gray twilight, after it had been hallowed by the night -air, and when only the innocent cows were stirring, with a kind of -regret. It was only four miles to the base of the mountain, and the -scenery was already more picturesque. Our road lay along the course of -the Stillwater, which was brawling at the bottom of a deep ravine, -filled with pines and rocks, tumbling fresh from the mountains, so -soon, alas! to commence its career of usefulness. At first, a cloud -hung between us and the summit, but it was soon blown away. As we -gathered the raspberries, which grew abundantly by the roadside, we -fancied that that action was consistent with a lofty prudence; as if -the traveler who ascends into a mountainous region should fortify -himself by eating of such light ambrosial fruits as grow there, and -drinking of the springs which gush out from the mountain-sides, as he -gradually inhales the subtler and purer atmosphere of those elevated -places, thus propitiating the mountain gods by a sacrifice of their -own fruits. The gross products of the plains and valleys are for such -as dwell therein; but it seemed to us that the juices of this berry -had relation to the thin air of the mountain-tops. - -In due time we began to ascend the mountain, passing, first, through a -grand sugar maple wood, which bore the marks of the auger, then a -denser forest, which gradually became dwarfed, till there were no -trees whatever. We at length pitched our tent on the summit. It is but -nineteen hundred feet above the village of Princeton, and three -thousand above the level of the sea; but by this slight elevation it -is infinitely removed from the plain, and when we reached it we felt a -sense of remoteness, as if we had traveled into distant regions, to -Arabia Petræa, or the farthest East. A robin upon a staff was the -highest object in sight. Swallows were flying about us, and the -chewink and cuckoo were heard near at hand. The summit consists of a -few acres, destitute of trees, covered with bare rocks, interspersed -with blueberry bushes, raspberries, gooseberries, strawberries, moss, -and a fine, wiry grass. The common yellow lily and dwarf cornel grow -abundantly in the crevices of the rocks. This clear space, which is -gently rounded, is bounded a few feet lower by a thick shrubbery of -oaks, with maples, aspens, beeches, cherries, and occasionally a -mountain-ash intermingled, among which we found the bright blue -berries of the Solomon's-seal, and the fruit of the pyrola. From the -foundation of a wooden observatory, which was formerly erected on the -highest point, forming a rude, hollow structure of stone, a dozen feet -in diameter, and five or six in height, we could see Monadnock, in -simple grandeur, in the northwest, rising nearly a thousand feet -higher, still the "far blue mountain," though with an altered profile. -The first day the weather was so hazy that it was in vain we -endeavored to unravel the obscurity. It was like looking into the sky -again, and the patches of forest here and there seemed to flit like -clouds over a lower heaven. As to voyagers of an aerial Polynesia, the -earth seemed like a larger island in the ether; on every side, even as -low as we, the sky shutting down, like an unfathomable deep, around -it, a blue Pacific island, where who knows what islanders inhabit? and -as we sail near its shores we see the waving of trees and hear the -lowing of kine. - -We read Virgil and Wordsworth in our tent, with new pleasure there, -while waiting for a clearer atmosphere, nor did the weather prevent -our appreciating the simple truth and beauty of Peter Bell:-- - - "And he had lain beside his asses, - On lofty Cheviot Hills: - - "And he had trudged through Yorkshire dales, - Among the rocks and winding _scars_; - Where deep and low the hamlets lie - Beneath their little patch of sky - And little lot of stars." - -Who knows but this hill may one day be a Helvellyn, or even a -Parnassus, and the Muses haunt here, and other Homers frequent the -neighboring plains? - - Not unconcerned Wachusett rears his head - Above the field, so late from nature won, - With patient brow reserved, as one who read - New annals in the history of man. - -The blueberries which the mountain afforded, added to the milk we had -brought, made our frugal supper, while for entertainment the even-song -of the wood thrush rang along the ridge. Our eyes rested on no painted -ceiling nor carpeted hall, but on skies of Nature's painting, and -hills and forests of her embroidery. Before sunset, we rambled along -the ridge to the north, while a hawk soared still above us. It was a -place where gods might wander, so solemn and solitary, and removed -from all contagion with the plain. As the evening came on, the haze -was condensed in vapor, and the landscape became more distinctly -visible, and numerous sheets of water were brought to light. - - "Et jam summa procul villarum culmina fumant, - Majoresque cadunt altis de montibus umbrae." - - And now the tops of the villas smoke afar off, - And the shadows fall longer from the high mountains. - -As we stood on the stone tower while the sun was setting, we saw the -shades of night creep gradually over the valleys of the east; and the -inhabitants went into their houses, and shut their doors, while the -moon silently rose up, and took possession of that part. And then the -same scene was repeated on the west side, as far as the Connecticut -and the Green Mountains, and the sun's rays fell on us two alone, of -all New England men. - -It was the night but one before the full of the moon, so bright that -we could see to read distinctly by moonlight, and in the evening -strolled over the summit without danger. There was, by chance, a fire -blazing on Monadnock that night, which lighted up the whole western -horizon, and, by making us aware of a community of mountains, made our -position seem less solitary. But at length the wind drove us to the -shelter of our tent, and we closed its door for the night, and fell -asleep. - -It was thrilling to hear the wind roar over the rocks, at intervals -when we waked, for it had grown quite cold and windy. The night was, -in its elements, simple even to majesty in that bleak place,--a bright -moonlight and a piercing wind. It was at no time darker than twilight -within the tent, and we could easily see the moon through its -transparent roof as we lay; for there was the moon still above us, -with Jupiter and Saturn on either hand, looking down on Wachusett, and -it was a satisfaction to know that they were our fellow-travelers -still, as high and out of our reach as our own destiny. Truly the -stars were given for a consolation to man. We should not know but our -life were fated to be always groveling, but it is permitted to behold -them, and surely they are deserving of a fair destiny. We see laws -which never fail, of whose failure we never conceived; and their lamps -burn all the night, too, as well as all day,--so rich and lavish is -that nature which can afford this superfluity of light. - -The morning twilight began as soon as the moon had set, and we arose -and kindled our fire, whose blaze might have been seen for thirty -miles around. As the daylight increased, it was remarkable how rapidly -the wind went down. There was no dew on the summit, but coldness -supplied its place. When the dawn had reached its prime, we enjoyed -the view of a distinct horizon line, and could fancy ourselves at sea, -and the distant hills the waves in the horizon, as seen from the deck -of a vessel. The cherry-birds flitted around us, the nuthatch and -flicker were heard among the bushes, the titmouse perched within a few -feet, and the song of the wood thrush again rang along the ridge. At -length we saw the run rise up out of the sea, and shine on -Massachusetts; and from this moment the atmosphere grew more and more -transparent till the time of our departure, and we began to realize -the extent of the view, and how the earth, in some degree, answered to -the heavens in breadth, the white villages to the constellations in -the sky. There was little of the sublimity and grandeur which belong -to mountain scenery, but an immense landscape to ponder on a summer's -day. We could see how ample and roomy is nature. As far as the eye -could reach there was little life in the landscape; the few birds -that flitted past did not crowd. The travelers on the remote highways, -which intersect the country on every side, had no fellow-travelers for -miles, before or behind. On every side, the eye ranged over successive -circles of towns, rising one above another, like the terraces of a -vineyard, till they were lost in the horizon. Wachusett is, in fact, -the observatory of the State. There lay Massachusetts, spread out -before us in its length and breadth, like a map. There was the level -horizon which told of the sea on the east and south, the well-known -hills of New Hampshire on the north, and the misty summits of the -Hoosac and Green Mountains, first made visible to us the evening -before, blue and unsubstantial, like some bank of clouds which the -morning wind would dissipate, on the northwest and west. These last -distant ranges, on which the eye rests unwearied, commence with an -abrupt boulder in the north, beyond the Connecticut, and travel -southward, with three or four peaks dimly seen. But Monadnock, rearing -its masculine front in the northwest, is the grandest feature. As we -beheld it, we knew that it was the height of land between the two -rivers, on this side the valley of the Merrimack, on that of the -Connecticut, fluctuating with their blue seas of air,--these rival -vales, already teeming with Yankee men along their respective streams, -born to what destiny who shall tell? Watatic and the neighboring -hills, in this State and in New Hampshire, are a continuation of the -same elevated range on which we were standing. But that New Hampshire -bluff,--that promontory of a State,--lowering day and night on this -our State of Massachusetts, will longest haunt our dreams. - -We could at length realize the place mountains occupy on the land, and -how they come into the general scheme of the universe. When first we -climb their summits and observe their lesser irregularities, we do not -give credit to the comprehensive intelligence which shaped them; but -when afterward we behold their outlines in the horizon, we confess -that the hand which moulded their opposite slopes, making one to -balance the other, worked round a deep centre, and was privy to the -plan of the universe. So is the least part of nature in its bearings -referred to all space. These lesser mountain ranges, as well as the -Alleghanies, run from northeast to southwest, and parallel with these -mountain streams are the more fluent rivers, answering to the general -direction of the coast, the bank of the great ocean stream itself. -Even the clouds, with their thin bars, fall into the same direction by -preference, and such even is the course of the prevailing winds, and -the migration of men and birds. A mountain chain determines many -things for the statesman and philosopher. The improvements of -civilization rather creep along its sides than cross its summit. How -often is it a barrier to prejudice and fanaticism! In passing over -these heights of land, through their thin atmosphere, the follies of -the plain are refined and purified; and as many species of plants do -not scale their summits, so many species of folly, no doubt, do not -cross the Alleghanies; it is only the hardy mountain-plant that creeps -quite over the ridge, and descends into the valley beyond. - -We get a dim notion of the flight of birds, especially of such as fly -high in the air, by having ascended a mountain. We can now see what -landmarks mountains are to their migrations; how the Catskills and -Highlands have hardly sunk to them, when Wachusett and Monadnock open -a passage to the northeast; how they are guided, too, in their course -by the rivers and valleys; and who knows but by the stars, as well as -the mountain ranges, and not by the petty landmarks which we use. The -bird whose eye takes in the Green Mountains on the one side, and the -ocean on the other, need not be at a loss to find its way. - -At noon we descended the mountain, and, having returned to the abodes -of men, turned our faces to the east again; measuring our progress, -from time to time, by the more ethereal hues which the mountain -assumed. Passing swiftly through Stillwater and Sterling, as with a -downward impetus, we found ourselves almost at home again in the green -meadows of Lancaster, so like our own Concord, for both are watered by -two streams which unite near their centres, and have many other -features in common. There is an unexpected refinement about this -scenery; level prairies of great extent, interspersed with elms and -hop-fields and groves of trees, give it almost a classic appearance. -This, it will be remembered, was the scene of Mrs. Rowlandson's -capture, and of other events in the Indian wars, but from this July -afternoon, and under that mild exterior, those times seemed as remote -as the irruption of the Goths. They were the dark age of New England. -On beholding a picture of a New England village as it then appeared, -with a fair open prospect, and a light on trees and river, as if it -were broad noon, we find we had not thought the sun shone in those -days, or that men lived in broad daylight then. We do not imagine the -sun shining on hill and valley during Philip's war, nor on the -war-path of Paugus, or Standish, or Church, or Lovell, with serene -summer weather, but a dim twilight or night did those events transpire -in. They must have fought in the shade of their own dusky deeds. - -At length, as we plodded along the dusty roads, our thoughts became as -dusty as they; all thought indeed stopped, thinking broke down, or -proceeded only passively in a sort of rhythmical cadence of the -confused material of thought, and we found ourselves mechanically -repeating some familiar measure which timed with our tread; some verse -of the Robin Hood ballads, for instance, which one can recommend to -travel by:-- - - "Sweavens are swift, sayd lyttle John, - As the wind blows over the hill; - For if it be never so loud this night, - To-morrow it may be still." - -And so it went, up-hill and down, till a stone interrupted the line, -when a new verse was chosen:-- - - "His shoote it was but loosely shott, - Yet flewe not the arrowe in vaine, - For it mett one of the sheriffe's men, - And William a Trent was slaine." - -There is, however, this consolation to the most wayworn traveler, upon -the dustiest road, that the path his feet describe is so perfectly -symbolical of human life,--now climbing the hills, now descending into -the vales. From the summits he beholds the heavens and the horizon, -from the vales he looks up to the heights again. He is treading his -old lessons still, and though he may be very weary and travel-worn, it -is yet sincere experience. - -Leaving the Nashua, we changed our route a little, and arrived at -Stillriver Village, in the western part of Harvard, just as the sun -was setting. From this place, which lies to the northward, upon the -western slope of the same range of hills on which we had spent the -noon before, in the adjacent town, the prospect is beautiful, and the -grandeur of the mountain outlines unsurpassed. There was such a repose -and quiet here at this hour, as if the very hillsides were enjoying -the scene; and as we passed slowly along, looking back over the -country we had traversed, and listening to the evening song of the -robin, we could not help contrasting the equanimity of Nature with the -bustle and impatience of man. His words and actions presume always a -crisis near at hand, but she is forever silent and unpretending. - -And now that we have returned to the desultory life of the plain, let -us endeavor to import a little of that mountain grandeur into it. We -will remember within what walls we lie, and understand that this level -life too has its summit, and why from the mountain-top the deepest -valleys have a tinge of blue; that there is elevation in every hour, -as no part of the earth is so low that the heavens may not be seen -from, and we have only to stand on the summit of our hour to command -an uninterrupted horizon. - -We rested that night at Harvard, and the next morning, while one bent -his steps to the nearer village of Groton, the other took his -separate and solitary way to the peaceful meadows of Concord; but let -him not forget to record the brave hospitality of a farmer and his -wife, who generously entertained him at their board, though the poor -wayfarer could only congratulate the one on the continuance of hay -weather, and silently accept the kindness of the other. Refreshed by -this instance of generosity, no less than by the substantial viands -set before him, he pushed forward with new vigor, and reached the -banks of the Concord before the sun had climbed many degrees into the -heavens. - - - - -THE LANDLORD - - -Under the one word "house" are included the schoolhouse, the -almshouse, the jail, the tavern, the dwelling-house; and the meanest -shed or cave in which men live contains the elements of all these. But -nowhere on the earth stands the entire and perfect house. The -Parthenon, St. Peter's, the Gothic minster, the palace, the hovel, are -but imperfect executions of an imperfect idea. Who would dwell in -them? Perhaps to the eye of the gods the cottage is more holy than the -Parthenon, for they look down with no especial favor upon the shrines -formally dedicated to them, and that should be the most sacred roof -which shelters most of humanity. Surely, then, the gods who are most -interested in the human race preside over the Tavern, where especially -men congregate. Methinks I see the thousand shrines erected to -Hospitality shining afar in all countries, as well Mahometan and -Jewish as Christian, khans and caravansaries and inns, whither all -pilgrims without distinction resort. - -Likewise we look in vain, east or west over the earth, to find the -perfect man; but each represents only some particular excellence. The -Landlord is a man of more open and general sympathies, who possesses a -spirit of hospitality which is its own reward, and feeds and shelters -men from pure love of the creatures. To be sure, this profession is as -often filled by imperfect characters, and such as have sought it from -unworthy motives, as any other, but so much the more should we prize -the true and honest Landlord when we meet with him. - -Who has not imagined to himself a country inn, where the traveler -shall really feel _in_, and at home, and at his public house, who was -before at his private house?--whose host is indeed a _host_, and a -_lord_ of the _land_, a self-appointed brother of his race; called to -his place, beside, by all the winds of heaven and his good genius, as -truly as the preacher is called to preach; a man of such universal -sympathies, and so broad and genial a human nature, that he would fain -sacrifice the tender but narrow ties of private friendship to a broad, -sunshiny, fair-weather-and-foul friendship for his race; who loves -men, not as a philosopher, with philanthropy, nor as an overseer of -the poor, with charity, but by a necessity of his nature, as he loves -dogs and horses; and standing at his open door from morning till night -would fain see more and more of them come along the highway, and is -never satiated. To him the sun and moon are but travelers, the one by -day and the other by night; and they too patronize his house. To his -imagination all things travel save his sign-post and himself; and -though you may be his neighbor for years, he will show you only the -civilities of the road. But on the other hand, while nations and -individuals are alike selfish and exclusive, he loves all men equally; -and if he treats his nearest neighbor as a stranger, since he has -invited all nations to share his hospitality, the farthest-traveled is -in some measure kindred to him who takes him into the bosom of his -family. - -He keeps a house of entertainment at the sign of the Black Horse or -the Spread Eagle, and is known far and wide, and his fame travels with -increasing radius every year. All the neighborhood is in his interest, -and if the traveler ask how far to a tavern, he receives some such -answer as this: "Well, sir, there's a house about three miles from -here, where they haven't taken down their sign yet; but it's only ten -miles to Slocum's, and that's a capital house, both for man and -beast." At three miles he passes a cheerless barrack, standing -desolate behind its sign-post, neither public nor private, and has -glimpses of a discontented couple who have mistaken their calling. At -ten miles see where the Tavern stands,--really an _entertaining_ -prospect,--so public and inviting that only the rain and snow do not -enter. It is no gay pavilion, made of bright stuffs, and furnished -with nuts and gingerbread, but as plain and sincere as a caravansary; -located in no Tarrytown, where you receive only the civilities of -commerce, but far in the fields it exercises a primitive hospitality, -amid the fresh scent of new hay and raspberries, if it be summer-time, -and the tinkling of cow-bells from invisible pastures; for it is a -land flowing with milk and honey, and the newest milk courses in a -broad, deep stream across the premises. - -In these retired places the tavern is first of all a -house,--elsewhere, last of all, or never,--and warms and shelters its -inhabitants. It is as simple and sincere in its essentials as the -caves in which the first men dwelt, but it is also as open and public. -The traveler steps across the threshold, and lo! he too is master, for -he only can be called proprietor of the house here who behaves with -most propriety in it. The Landlord stands clear back in nature, to my -imagination, with his axe and spade felling trees and raising potatoes -with the vigor of a pioneer; with Promethean energy making nature -yield her increase to supply the wants of so many; and he is not so -exhausted, nor of so short a stride, but that he comes forward even to -the highway to this wide hospitality and publicity. Surely, he has -solved some of the problems of life. He comes in at his back door, -holding a log fresh cut for the hearth upon his shoulder with one -hand, while he greets the newly arrived traveler with the other. - -Here at length we have free range, as not in palaces, nor cottages, -nor temples, and intrude nowhere. All the secrets of housekeeping are -exhibited to the eyes of men, above and below, before and behind. This -is the necessary way to live, men have confessed, in these days, and -shall he skulk and hide? And why should we have any serious disgust at -kitchens? Perhaps they are the holiest recess of the house. There is -the hearth, after all,--and the settle, and the fagots, and the -kettle, and the crickets. We have pleasant reminiscences of these. -They are the heart, the left ventricle, the very vital part of the -house. Here the real and sincere life which we meet in the streets was -actually fed and sheltered. Here burns the taper that cheers the -lonely traveler by night, and from this hearth ascend the smokes that -populate the valley to his eyes by day. On the whole, a man may not be -so little ashamed of any other part of his house, for here is his -sincerity and earnest, at least. It may not be here that the besoms -are plied most,--it is not here that they need to be, for dust will -not settle on the kitchen floor more than in nature. - -Hence it will not do for the Landlord to possess too fine a nature. He -must have health above the common accidents of life, subject to no -modern fashionable diseases; but no taste, rather a vast relish or -appetite. His sentiments on all subjects will be delivered as freely -as the wind blows; there is nothing private or individual in them, -though still original, but they are public, and of the hue of the -heavens over his house,--a certain out-of-door obviousness and -transparency not to be disputed. What he does, his manners are not to -be complained of, though abstractly offensive, for it is what man -does, and in him the race is exhibited. When he eats, he is liver and -bowels and the whole digestive apparatus to the company, and so all -admit the thing is done. He must have no idiosyncrasies, no particular -bents or tendencies to this or that, but a general, uniform, and -healthy development, such as his portly person indicates, offering -himself equally on all sides to men. He is not one of your peaked and -inhospitable men of genius, with particular tastes, but, as we said -before, has one uniform relish, and taste which never aspires higher -than a tavern-sign, or the cut of a weather-cock. The man of genius, -like a dog with a bone, or the slave who has swallowed a diamond, or a -patient with the gravel, sits afar and retired, off the road, hangs -out no sign of refreshment for man and beast, but says, by all -possible hints and signs, I wish to be alone,--good-by,--farewell. But -the Landlord can afford to live without privacy. He entertains no -private thought, he cherishes no solitary hour, no Sabbath-day, but -thinks,--enough to assert the dignity of reason,--and talks, and reads -the newspaper. What he does not tell to one traveler he tells to -another. He never wants to be alone, but sleeps, wakes, eats, drinks, -sociably, still remembering his race. He walks abroad through the -thoughts of men, and the Iliad and Shakespeare are tame to him, who -hears the rude but homely incidents of the road from every traveler. -The mail might drive through his brain in the midst of his most lonely -soliloquy without disturbing his equanimity, provided it brought -plenty of news and passengers. There can be no _pro_fanity where there -is no fane behind, and the whole world may see quite round him. -Perchance his lines have fallen to him in dustier places, and he has -heroically sat down where two roads meet, or at the Four Corners or -the Five Points, and his life is sublimely trivial for the good of -men. The dust of travel blows ever in his eyes, and they preserve -their clear, complacent look. The hourlies and half-hourlies, the -dailies and weeklies, whirl on well-worn tracks, round and round his -house, as if it were the goal in the stadium, and still he sits within -in unruffled serenity, with no show of retreat. His neighbor dwells -timidly behind a screen of poplars and willows, and a fence with -sheaves of spears at regular intervals, or defended against the tender -palms of visitors by sharp spikes,--but the traveler's wheels rattle -over the door-step of the tavern, and he cracks his whip in the entry. -He is truly glad to see you, and sincere as the bull's-eye over his -door. The traveler seeks to find, wherever he goes, some one who will -stand in this broad and catholic relation to him, who will be an -inhabitant of the land to him a stranger, and represent its human -nature, as the rock stands for its inanimate nature; and this is he. -As his crib furnishes provender for the traveler's horse, and his -larder provisions for his appetite, so his conversation furnishes the -necessary aliment to his spirits. He knows very well what a man wants, -for he is a man himself, and as it were the farthest-traveled, though -he has never stirred from his door. He understands his needs and -destiny. He would be well fed and lodged, there can be no doubt, and -have the transient sympathy of a cheerful companion, and of a heart -which always prophesies fair weather. And after all the greatest men, -even, want much more the sympathy which every honest fellow can give, -than that which the great only can impart. If he is not the most -upright, let us allow him this praise, that he is the most downright -of men. He has a hand to shake and to be shaken, and takes a sturdy -and unquestionable interest in you, as if he had assumed the care of -you, but if you will break your neck, he will even give you the best -advice as to the method. - -The great poets have not been ungrateful to their landlords. Mine host -of the Tabard Inn, in the Prologue to the Canterbury Tales, was an -honor to his profession:-- - - "A semely man our Hoste was, with alle, - For to han been a marshal in an halle. - A large man he was, with eyen stepe; - A fairer burgeis was ther non in Chepe: - Bold of his speche, and wise, and well ytaught, - And of manhood him lacked righte naught. - Eke thereto was he right a mery man, - And after souper plaien he began, - And spake of mirthe amonges other thinges, - Whan that we hadden made our reckoninges." - -He is the true house-band, and centre of the company,--of greater -fellowship and practical social talent than any. He it is that -proposes that each shall tell a tale to while away the time to -Canterbury, and leads them himself, and concludes with his own tale,-- - - "Now, by my fader's soule that is ded, - But ye be mery, smiteth of my hed: - Hold up your hondes withouten more speche." - -If we do not look up to the Landlord, we look round for him on all -emergencies, for he is a man of infinite experience, who unites hands -with wit. He is a more public character than a statesman,--a publican, -and not consequently a sinner; and surely, he, if any, should be -exempted from taxation and military duty. - -Talking with our host is next best and instructive to talking with -one's self. It is a more conscious soliloquy; as it were, to speak -generally, and try what we would say provided we had an audience. He -has indulgent and open ears, and does not require petty and particular -statements. "Heigh-ho!" exclaims the traveler. Them's my sentiments, -thinks mine host, and stands ready for what may come next, expressing -the purest sympathy by his demeanor. "Hot as blazes!" says the other. -"Hard weather, sir,--not much stirring nowadays," says he. He is wiser -than to contradict his guest in any case; he lets him go on; he lets -him travel. - -The latest sitter leaves him standing far in the night, prepared to -live right on, while suns rise and set, and his "good-night" has as -brisk a sound as his "good-morning;" and the earliest riser finds him -tasting his liquors in the bar ere flies begin to buzz, with a -countenance fresh as the morning star over the sanded floor,--and not -as one who had watched all night for travelers. And yet, if beds be -the subject of conversation, it will appear that no man has been a -sounder sleeper in his time. - -Finally, as for his moral character, we do not hesitate to say that he -has no grain of vice or meanness in him, but represents just that -degree of virtue which all men relish without being obliged to -respect. He is a good man, as his bitters are good,--an unquestionable -goodness. Not what is called a good man,--good to be considered, as a -work of art in galleries and museums,--but a good fellow, that is, -good to be associated with. Who ever thought of the religion of an -innkeeper,--whether he was joined to the Church, partook of the -sacrament, said his prayers, feared God, or the like? No doubt he has -had his experiences, has felt a change, and is a firm believer in the -perseverance of the saints. In this last, we suspect, does the -peculiarity of his religion consist. But he keeps an inn, and not a -conscience. How many fragrant charities and sincere social virtues are -implied in this daily offering of himself to the public! He cherishes -good-will to all, and gives the wayfarer as good and honest advice to -direct him on his road as the priest. - -To conclude, the tavern will compare favorably with the church. The -church is the place where prayers and sermons are delivered, but the -tavern is where they are to take effect, and if the former are good, -the latter cannot be bad. - - - - -A WINTER WALK - - -The wind has gently murmured through the blinds, or puffed with -feathery softness against the windows, and occasionally sighed like a -summer zephyr lifting the leaves along, the livelong night. The meadow -mouse has slept in his snug gallery in the sod, the owl has sat in a -hollow tree in the depth of the swamp, the rabbit, the squirrel, and -the fox have all been housed. The watch-dog has lain quiet on the -hearth, and the cattle have stood silent in their stalls. The earth -itself has slept, as it were its first, not its last sleep, save when -some street-sign or wood-house door has faintly creaked upon its -hinge, cheering forlorn nature at her midnight work,--the only sound -awake 'twixt Venus and Mars,--advertising us of a remote inward -warmth, a divine cheer and fellowship, where gods are met together, -but where it is very bleak for men to stand. But while the earth has -slumbered, all the air has been alive with feathery flakes descending, -as if some northern Ceres reigned, showering her silvery grain over -all the fields. - -We sleep, and at length awake to the still reality of a winter -morning. The snow lies warm as cotton or down upon the window-sill; -the broadened sash and frosted panes admit a dim and private light, -which enhances the snug cheer within. The stillness of the morning is -impressive. The floor creaks under our feet as we move toward the -window to look abroad through some clear space over the fields. We -see the roofs stand under their snow burden. From the eaves and fences -hang stalactites of snow, and in the yard stand stalagmites covering -some concealed core. The trees and shrubs rear white arms to the sky -on every side; and where were walls and fences, we see fantastic forms -stretching in frolic gambols across the dusky landscape, as if Nature -had strewn her fresh designs over the fields by night as models for -man's art. - -Silently we unlatch the door, letting the drift fall in, and step -abroad to face the cutting air. Already the stars have lost some of -their sparkle, and a dull, leaden mist skirts the horizon. A lurid -brazen light in the east proclaims the approach of day, while the -western landscape is dim and spectral still, and clothed in a sombre -Tartarean light, like the shadowy realms. They are Infernal sounds -only that you hear,--the crowing of cocks, the barking of dogs, the -chopping of wood, the lowing of kine, all seem to come from Pluto's -barnyard and beyond the Styx,--not for any melancholy they suggest, -but their twilight bustle is too solemn and mysterious for earth. The -recent tracks of the fox or otter, in the yard, remind us that each -hour of the night is crowded with events, and the primeval nature is -still working and making tracks in the snow. Opening the gate, we -tread briskly along the lone country road, crunching the dry and -crisped snow under our feet, or aroused by the sharp, clear creak of -the wood-sled, just starting for the distant market, from the early -farmer's door, where it has lain the summer long, dreaming amid the -chips and stubble; while far through the drifts and powdered windows -we see the farmer's early candle, like a paled star, emitting a lonely -beam, as if some severe virtue were at its matins there. And one by -one the smokes begin to ascend from the chimneys amid the trees and -snows. - - The sluggish smoke curls up from some deep dell, - The stiffened air exploring in the dawn, - And making slow acquaintance with the day - Delaying now upon its heavenward course, - In wreathèd loiterings dallying with itself, - With as uncertain purpose and slow deed - As its half-wakened master by the hearth, - Whose mind still slumbering and sluggish thoughts - Have not yet swept into the onward current - Of the new day;--and now it streams afar, - The while the chopper goes with step direct, - And mind intent to swing the early axe. - First in the dusky dawn he sends abroad - His early scout, his emissary, smoke, - The earliest, latest pilgrim from the roof, - To feel the frosty air, inform the day; - And while he crouches still beside the hearth, - Nor musters courage to unbar the door, - It has gone down the glen with the light wind, - And o'er the plain unfurled its venturous wreath, - Draped the tree-tops, loitered upon the hill, - And warmed the pinions of the early bird; - And now, perchance, high in the crispy air, - Has caught sight of the day o'er the earth's edge, - And greets its master's eye at his low door, - As some refulgent cloud in the upper sky. - -We hear the sound of wood-chopping at the farmers' doors, far over the -frozen earth, the baying of the house-dog, and the distant clarion of -the cock,--though the thin and frosty air conveys only the finer -particles of sound to our ears, with short and sweet vibrations, as -the waves subside soonest on the purest and lightest liquids, in which -gross substances sink to the bottom. They come clear and bell-like, -and from a greater distance in the horizon, as if there were fewer -impediments than in summer to make them faint and ragged. The ground -is sonorous, like seasoned wood, and even the ordinary rural sounds -are melodious, and the jingling of the ice on the trees is sweet and -liquid. There is the least possible moisture in the atmosphere, all -being dried up or congealed, and it is of such extreme tenuity and -elasticity that it becomes a source of delight. The withdrawn and -tense sky seems groined like the aisles of a cathedral, and the -polished air sparkles as if there were crystals of ice floating in it. -As they who have resided in Greenland tell us that when it freezes -"the sea smokes like burning turf-land, and a fog or mist arises, -called frost-smoke," which "cutting smoke frequently raises blisters -on the face and hands, and is very pernicious to the health." But this -pure, stinging cold is an elixir to the lungs, and not so much a -frozen mist as a crystallized midsummer haze, refined and purified by -cold. - -The sun at length rises through the distant woods, as if with the -faint clashing, swinging sound of cymbals, melting the air with his -beams, and with such rapid steps the morning travels, that already his -rays are gilding the distant western mountains. Meanwhile we step -hastily along through the powdery snow, warmed by an inward heat, -enjoying an Indian summer still, in the increased glow of thought and -feeling. Probably if our lives were more conformed to nature, we -should not need to defend ourselves against her heats and colds, but -find her our constant nurse and friend, as do plants and quadrupeds. -If our bodies were fed with pure and simple elements, and not with a -stimulating and heating diet, they would afford no more pasture for -cold than a leafless twig, but thrive like the trees, which find even -winter genial to their expansion. - -The wonderful purity of nature at this season is a most pleasing fact. -Every decayed stump and moss-grown stone and rail, and the dead leaves -of autumn, are concealed by a clean napkin of snow. In the bare fields -and tinkling woods, see what virtue survives. In the coldest and -bleakest places, the warmest charities still maintain a foothold. A -cold and searching wind drives away all contagion, and nothing can -withstand it but what has a virtue in it, and accordingly, whatever we -meet with in cold and bleak places, as the tops of mountains, we -respect for a sort of sturdy innocence, a Puritan toughness. All -things beside seem to be called in for shelter, and what stays out -must be part of the original frame of the universe, and of such valor -as God himself. It is invigorating to breathe the cleansed air. Its -greater fineness and purity are visible to the eye, and we would fain -stay out long and late, that the gales may sigh through us, too, as -through the leafless trees, and fit us for the winter,--as if we hoped -so to borrow some pure and steadfast virtue, which will stead us in -all seasons. - -There is a slumbering subterranean fire in nature which never goes -out, and which no cold can chill. It finally melts the great snow, -and in January or July is only buried under a thicker or thinner -covering. In the coldest day it flows somewhere, and the snow melts -around every tree. This field of winter rye, which sprouted late in -the fall, and now speedily dissolves the snow, is where the fire is -very thinly covered. We feel warmed by it. In the winter, warmth -stands for all virtue, and we resort in thought to a trickling rill, -with its bare stones shining in the sun, and to warm springs in the -woods, with as much eagerness as rabbits and robins. The steam which -rises from swamps and pools is as dear and domestic as that of our own -kettle. What fire could ever equal the sunshine of a winter's day, -when the meadow mice come out by the wall-sides, and the chickadee -lisps in the defiles of the wood? The warmth comes directly from the -sun, and is not radiated from the earth, as in summer; and when we -feel his beams on our backs as we are treading some snowy dell, we are -grateful as for a special kindness, and bless the sun which has -followed us into that by-place. - -This subterranean fire has its altar in each man's breast; for in the -coldest day, and on the bleakest hill, the traveler cherishes a warmer -fire within the folds of his cloak than is kindled on any hearth. A -healthy man, indeed, is the complement of the seasons, and in winter, -summer is in his heart. There is the south. Thither have all birds and -insects migrated, and around the warm springs in his breast are -gathered the robin and the lark. - -At length, having reached the edge of the woods, and shut out the -gadding town, we enter within their covert as we go under the roof of -a cottage, and cross its threshold, all ceiled and banked up with -snow. They are glad and warm still, and as genial and cheery in winter -as in summer. As we stand in the midst of the pines in the flickering -and checkered light which straggles but little way into their maze, we -wonder if the towns have ever heard their simple story. It seems to us -that no traveler has ever explored them, and notwithstanding the -wonders which science is elsewhere revealing every day, who would not -like to hear their annals? Our humble villages in the plain are their -contribution. We borrow from the forest the boards which shelter and -the sticks which warm us. How important is their evergreen to the -winter, that portion of the summer which does not fade, the permanent -year, the unwithered grass! Thus simply, and with little expense of -altitude, is the surface of the earth diversified. What would human -life be without forests, those natural cities? From the tops of -mountains they appear like smooth-shaven lawns, yet whither shall we -walk but in this taller grass? - -In this glade covered with bushes of a year's growth, see how the -silvery dust lies on every seared leaf and twig, deposited in such -infinite and luxurious forms as by their very variety atone for the -absence of color. Observe the tiny tracks of mice around every stem, -and the triangular tracks of the rabbit. A pure elastic heaven hangs -over all, as if the impurities of the summer sky, refined and shrunk -by the chaste winter's cold, had been winnowed from the heavens upon -the earth. - -Nature confounds her summer distinctions at this season. The heavens -seem to be nearer the earth. The elements are less reserved and -distinct. Water turns to ice, rain to snow. The day is but a -Scandinavian night. The winter is an arctic summer. - -How much more living is the life that is in nature, the furred life -which still survives the stinging nights, and, from amidst fields and -woods covered with frost and snow, sees the sun rise! - - "The foodless wilds - Pour forth their brown inhabitants." - -The gray squirrel and rabbit are brisk and playful in the remote -glens, even on the morning of the cold Friday. Here is our Lapland and -Labrador, and for our Esquimaux and Knistenaux, Dog-ribbed Indians, -Novazemblaites, and Spitzbergeners, are there not the ice-cutter and -woodchopper, the fox, muskrat, and mink? - -Still, in the midst of the arctic day, we may trace the summer to its -retreats, and sympathize with some contemporary life. Stretched over -the brooks, in the midst of the frost-bound meadows, we may observe -the submarine cottages of the caddis-worms, the larvæ of the -Plicipennes; their small cylindrical cases built around themselves, -composed of flags, sticks, grass, and withered leaves, shells, and -pebbles, in form and color like the wrecks which strew the -bottom,--now drifting along over the pebbly bottom, now whirling in -tiny eddies and dashing down steep falls, or sweeping rapidly along -with the current, or else swaying to and fro at the end of some -grass-blade or root. Anon they will leave their sunken habitations, -and, crawling up the stems of plants, or to the surface, like gnats, -as perfect insects henceforth, flutter over the surface of the water, -or sacrifice their short lives in the flame of our candles at evening. -Down yonder little glen the shrubs are drooping under their burden, -and the red alderberries contrast with the white ground. Here are the -marks of a myriad feet which have already been abroad. The sun rises -as proudly over such a glen as over the valley of the Seine or the -Tiber, and it seems the residence of a pure and self-subsistent valor, -such as they never witnessed,--which never knew defeat nor fear. Here -reign the simplicity and purity of a primitive age, and a health and -hope far remote from towns and cities. Standing quite alone, far in -the forest, while the wind is shaking down snow from the trees, and -leaving the only human tracks behind us, we find our reflections of a -richer variety than the life of cities. The chickadee and nuthatch are -more inspiring society than statesmen and philosophers, and we shall -return to these last as to more vulgar companions. In this lonely -glen, with its brook draining the slopes, its creased ice and crystals -of all hues, where the spruces and hemlocks stand up on either side, -and the rush and sere wild oats in the rivulet itself, our lives are -more serene and worthy to contemplate. - -As the day advances, the heat of the sun is reflected by the -hillsides, and we hear a faint but sweet music, where flows the rill -released from its fetters, and the icicles are melting on the trees; -and the nuthatch and partridge are heard and seen. The south wind -melts the snow at noon, and the bare ground appears with its withered -grass and leaves, and we are invigorated by the perfume which exhales -from it, as by the scent of strong meats. - -Let us go into this deserted woodman's hut, and see how he has passed -the long winter nights and the short and stormy days. For here man has -lived under this south hillside, and it seems a civilized and public -spot. We have such associations as when the traveler stands by the -ruins of Palmyra or Hecatompolis. Singing birds and flowers perchance -have begun to appear here, for flowers as well as weeds follow in the -footsteps of man. These hemlocks whispered over his head, these -hickory logs were his fuel, and these pitch pine roots kindled his -fire; yonder fuming rill in the hollow, whose thin and airy vapor -still ascends as busily as ever, though he is far off now, was his -well. These hemlock boughs, and the straw upon this raised platform, -were his bed, and this broken dish held his drink. But he has not been -here this season, for the phoebes built their nest upon this shelf -last summer. I find some embers left as if he had but just gone out, -where he baked his pot of beans; and while at evening he smoked his -pipe, whose stemless bowl lies in the ashes, chatted with his only -companion, if perchance he had any, about the depth of the snow on the -morrow, already falling fast and thick without, or disputed whether -the last sound was the screech of an owl, or the creak of a bough, or -imagination only; and through his broad chimney-throat, in the late -winter evening, ere he stretched himself upon the straw, he looked up -to learn the progress of the storm, and, seeing the bright stars of -Cassiopeia's Chair shining brightly down upon him, fell contentedly -asleep. - -See how many traces from which we may learn the chopper's history! -From this stump we may guess the sharpness of his axe, and from the -slope of the stroke, on which side he stood, and whether he cut down -the tree without going round it or changing hands; and, from the -flexure of the splinters, we may know which way it fell. This one chip -contains inscribed on it the whole history of the woodchopper and of -the world. On this scrap of paper, which held his sugar or salt, -perchance, or was the wadding of his gun, sitting on a log in the -forest, with what interest we read the tattle of cities, of those -larger huts, empty and to let, like this, in High Streets and -Broadways. The eaves are dripping on the south side of this simple -roof, while the titmouse lisps in the pine and the genial warmth of -the sun around the door is somewhat kind and human. - -After two seasons, this rude dwelling does not deform the scene. -Already the birds resort to it, to build their nests, and you may -track to its door the feet of many quadrupeds. Thus, for a long time, -nature overlooks the encroachment and profanity of man. The wood still -cheerfully and unsuspiciously echoes the strokes of the axe that fells -it, and while they are few and seldom, they enhance its wildness, and -all the elements strive to naturalize the sound. - -Now our path begins to ascend gradually to the top of this high hill, -from whose precipitous south side we can look over the broad country -of forest and field and river, to the distant snowy mountains. See -yonder thin column of smoke curling up through the woods from some -invisible farmhouse, the standard raised over some rural homestead. -There must be a warmer and more genial spot there below, as where we -detect the vapor from a spring forming a cloud above the trees. What -fine relations are established between the traveler who discovers this -airy column from some eminence in the forest and him who sits below! -Up goes the smoke as silently and naturally as the vapor exhales from -the leaves, and as busy disposing itself in wreaths as the housewife -on the hearth below. It is a hieroglyphic of man's life, and suggests -more intimate and important things than the boiling of a pot. Where -its fine column rises above the forest, like an ensign, some human -life has planted itself,--and such is the beginning of Rome, the -establishment of the arts, and the foundation of empires, whether on -the prairies of America or the steppes of Asia. - -And now we descend again, to the brink of this woodland lake, which -lies in a hollow of the hills, as if it were their expressed juice, -and that of the leaves which are annually steeped in it. Without -outlet or inlet to the eye, it has still its history, in the lapse of -its waves, in the rounded pebbles on its shore, and in the pines which -grow down to its brink. It has not been idle, though sedentary, but, -like Abu Musa, teaches that "sitting still at home is the heavenly -way; the going out is the way of the world." Yet in its evaporation it -travels as far as any. In summer it is the earth's liquid eye, a -mirror in the breast of nature. The sins of the wood are washed out -in it. See how the woods form an amphitheatre about it, and it is an -arena for all the genialness of nature. All trees direct the traveler -to its brink, all paths seek it out, birds fly to it, quadrupeds flee -to it, and the very ground inclines toward it. It is nature's saloon, -where she has sat down to her toilet. Consider her silent economy and -tidiness; how the sun comes with his evaporation to sweep the dust -from its surface each morning, and a fresh surface is constantly -welling up; and annually, after whatever impurities have accumulated -herein, its liquid transparency appears again in the spring. In summer -a hushed music seems to sweep across its surface. But now a plain -sheet of snow conceals it from our eyes, except where the wind has -swept the ice bare, and the sere leaves are gliding from side to side, -tacking and veering on their tiny voyages. Here is one just keeled up -against a pebble on shore, a dry beech leaf, rocking still, as if it -would start again. A skillful engineer, methinks, might project its -course since it fell from the parent stem. Here are all the elements -for such a calculation. Its present position, the direction of the -wind, the level of the pond, and how much more is given. In its -scarred edges and veins is its log rolled up. - -We fancy ourselves in the interior of a larger house. The surface of -the pond is our deal table or sanded floor, and the woods rise -abruptly from its edge, like the walls of a cottage. The lines set to -catch pickerel through the ice look like a larger culinary -preparation, and the men stand about on the white ground like pieces -of forest furniture. The actions of these men, at the distance of -half a mile over the ice and snow, impress us as when we read the -exploits of Alexander in history. They seem not unworthy of the -scenery, and as momentous as the conquest of kingdoms. - -Again we have wandered through the arches of the wood, until from its -skirts we hear the distant booming of ice from yonder bay of the -river, as if it were moved by some other and subtler tide than oceans -know. To me it has a strange sound of home, thrilling as the voice of -one's distant and noble kindred. A mild summer sun shines over forest -and lake, and though there is but one green leaf for many rods, yet -nature enjoys a serene health. Every sound is fraught with the same -mysterious assurance of health, as well now the creaking of the boughs -in January, as the soft sough of the wind in July. - - When Winter fringes every bough - With his fantastic wreath, - And puts the seal of silence now - Upon the leaves beneath; - - When every stream in its penthouse - Goes gurgling on its way, - And in his gallery the mouse - Nibbleth the meadow hay; - - Methinks the summer still is nigh, - And lurketh underneath, - As that same meadow mouse doth lie - Snug in that last year's heath. - - And if perchance the chickadee - Lisp a faint note anon, - The snow is summer's canopy, - Which she herself put on. - - Fair blossoms deck the cheerful trees, - And dazzling fruits depend; - The north wind sighs a summer breeze, - The nipping frosts to fend, - - Bringing glad tidings unto me, - The while I stand all ear, - Of a serene eternity, - Which need not winter fear. - - Out on the silent pond straightway - The restless ice doth crack, - And pond sprites merry gambols play - Amid the deafening rack. - - Eager I hasten to the vale, - As if I heard brave news, - How nature held high festival, - Which it were hard to lose. - - I gambol with my neighbor ice, - And sympathizing quake, - As each new crack darts in a trice - Across the gladsome lake. - - One with the cricket in the ground, - And fagot on the hearth, - Resounds the rare domestic sound - Along the forest path. - -Before night we will take a journey on skates along the course of this -meandering river, as full of novelty to one who sits by the cottage -fire all the winter's day, as if it were over the polar ice, with -Captain Parry or Franklin; following the winding of the stream, now -flowing amid hills, now spreading out into fair meadows, and forming a -myriad coves and bays where the pine and hemlock overarch. The river -flows in the rear of the towns, and we see all things from a new and -wilder side. The fields and gardens come down to it with a frankness, -and freedom from pretension, which they do not wear on the highway. It -is the outside and edge of the earth. Our eyes are not offended by -violent contrasts. The last rail of the farmer's fence is some swaying -willow bough, which still preserves its freshness, and here at length -all fences stop, and we no longer cross any road. We may go far up -within the country now by the most retired and level road, never -climbing a hill, but by broad levels ascending to the upland meadows. -It is a beautiful illustration of the law of obedience, the flow of a -river; the path for a sick man, a highway down which an acorn cup may -float secure with its freight. Its slight occasional falls, whose -precipices would not diversify the landscape, are celebrated by mist -and spray, and attract the traveler from far and near. From the remote -interior, its current conducts him by broad and easy steps, or by one -gentler inclined plane, to the sea. Thus by an early and constant -yielding to the inequalities of the ground it secures itself the -easiest passage. - -No domain of nature is quite closed to man at all times, and now we -draw near to the empire of the fishes. Our feet glide swiftly over -unfathomed depths, where in summer our line tempted the pout and -perch, and where the stately pickerel lurked in the long corridors -formed by the bulrushes. The deep, impenetrable marsh, where the heron -waded and bittern squatted, is made pervious to our swift shoes, as if -a thousand railroads had been made into it. With one impulse we are -carried to the cabin of the muskrat, that earliest settler, and see -him dart away under the transparent ice, like a furred fish, to his -hole in the bank; and we glide rapidly over meadows where lately "the -mower whet his scythe," through beds of frozen cranberries mixed with -meadow-grass. We skate near to where the blackbird, the pewee, and the -kingbird hung their nests over the water, and the hornets builded from -the maple in the swamp. How many gay warblers, following the sun, have -radiated from this nest of silver birch and thistle-down! On the -swamp's outer edge was hung the supermarine village, where no foot -penetrated. In this hollow tree the wood duck reared her brood, and -slid away each day to forage in yonder fen. - -In winter, nature is a cabinet of curiosities, full of dried -specimens, in their natural order and position. The meadows and -forests are a _hortus siccus_. The leaves and grasses stand perfectly -pressed by the air without screw or gum, and the birds' nests are not -hung on an artificial twig, but where they builded them. We go about -dry-shod to inspect the summer's work in the rank swamp, and see what -a growth have got the alders, the willows, and the maples; testifying -to how many warm suns, and fertilizing dews and showers. See what -strides their boughs took in the luxuriant summer,--and anon these -dormant buds will carry them onward and upward another span into the -heavens. - -Occasionally we wade through fields of snow, under whose depths the -river is lost for many rods, to appear again to the right or left, -where we least expected; still holding on its way underneath, with a -faint, stertorous, rumbling sound, as if, like the bear and marmot, -it too had hibernated, and we had followed its faint summer trail to -where it earthed itself in snow and ice. At first we should have -thought that rivers would be empty and dry in midwinter, or else -frozen solid till the spring thawed them; but their volume is not -diminished even, for only a superficial cold bridges their surfaces. -The thousand springs which feed the lakes and streams are flowing -still. The issues of a few surface springs only are closed, and they -go to swell the deep reservoirs. Nature's wells are below the frost. -The summer brooks are not filled with snow-water, nor does the mower -quench his thirst with that alone. The streams are swollen when the -snow melts in the spring, because nature's work has been delayed, the -water being turned into ice and snow, whose particles are less smooth -and round, and do not find their level so soon. - -Far over the ice, between the hemlock woods and snow-clad hills, -stands the pickerel-fisher, his lines set in some retired cove, like a -Finlander, with his arms thrust into the pouches of his dreadnaught; -with dull, snowy, fishy thoughts, himself a finless fish, separated a -few inches from his race; dumb, erect, and made to be enveloped in -clouds and snows, like the pines on shore. In these wild scenes, men -stand about in the scenery, or move deliberately and heavily, having -sacrificed the sprightliness and vivacity of towns to the dumb -sobriety of nature. He does not make the scenery less wild, more than -the jays and muskrats, but stands there as a part of it, as the -natives are represented in the voyages of early navigators, at Nootka -Sound, and on the Northwest coast, with their furs about them, before -they were tempted to loquacity by a scrap of iron. He belongs to the -natural family of man, and is planted deeper in nature and has more -root than the inhabitants of towns. Go to him, ask what luck, and you -will learn that he too is a worshiper of the unseen. Hear with what -sincere deference and waving gesture in his tone he speaks of the lake -pickerel, which he has never seen, his primitive and ideal race of -pickerel. He is connected with the shore still, as by a fish-line, and -yet remembers the season when he took fish through the ice on the -pond, while the peas were up in his garden at home. - -But now, while we have loitered, the clouds have gathered again, and a -few straggling snowflakes are beginning to descend. Faster and faster -they fall, shutting out the distant objects from sight. The snow falls -on every wood and field, and no crevice is forgotten; by the river and -the pond, on the hill and in the valley. Quadrupeds are confined to -their coverts and the birds sit upon their perches this peaceful hour. -There is not so much sound as in fair weather, but silently and -gradually every slope, and the gray walls and fences, and the polished -ice, and the sere leaves, which were not buried before, are concealed, -and the tracks of men and beasts are lost. With so little effort does -nature reassert her rule and blot out the traces of men. Hear how -Homer has described the same: "The snowflakes fall thick and fast on a -winter's day. The winds are lulled, and the snow falls incessant, -covering the tops of the mountains, and the hills, and the plains -where the lotus-tree grows, and the cultivated fields, and they are -falling by the inlets and shores of the foaming sea, but are silently -dissolved by the waves." The snow levels all things, and infolds them -deeper in the bosom of nature, as, in the slow summer, vegetation -creeps up to the entablature of the temple, and the turrets of the -castle, and helps her to prevail over art. - -The surly night-wind rustles through the wood, and warns us to retrace -our steps, while the sun goes down behind the thickening storm, and -birds seek their roosts, and cattle their stalls. - - "Drooping the lab'rer ox - Stands covered o'er with snow, and _now_ demands - The fruit of all his toil." - -Though winter is represented in the almanac as an old man, facing the -wind and sleet, and drawing his cloak about him, we rather think of -him as a merry woodchopper, and warm-blooded youth, as blithe as -summer. The unexplored grandeur of the storm keeps up the spirits of -the traveler. It does not trifle with us, but has a sweet earnestness. -In winter we lead a more inward life. Our hearts are warm and cheery, -like cottages under drifts, whose windows and doors are half -concealed, but from whose chimneys the smoke cheerfully ascends. The -imprisoning drifts increase the sense of comfort which the house -affords, and in the coldest days we are content to sit over the hearth -and see the sky through the chimney-top, enjoying the quiet and serene -life that may be had in a warm corner by the chimney-side, or feeling -our pulse by listening to the low of cattle in the street, or the -sound of the flail in distant barns all the long afternoon. No doubt a -skillful physician could determine our health by observing how these -simple and natural sounds affected us. We enjoy now, not an Oriental, -but a Boreal leisure, around warm stoves and fireplaces, and watch the -shadow of motes in the sunbeams. - -Sometimes our fate grows too homely and familiarly serious ever to be -cruel. Consider how for three months the human destiny is wrapped in -furs. The good Hebrew Revelation takes no cognizance of all this -cheerful snow. Is there no religion for the temperate and frigid -zones? We know of no scripture which records the pure benignity of the -gods on a New England winter night. Their praises have never been -sung, only their wrath deprecated. The best scripture, after all, -records but a meagre faith. Its saints live reserved and austere. Let -a brave, devout man spend the year in the woods of Maine or Labrador, -and see if the Hebrew Scriptures speak adequately to his condition and -experience, from the setting in of winter to the breaking up of the -ice. - -Now commences the long winter evening around the farmer's hearth, when -the thoughts of the indwellers travel far abroad, and men are by -nature and necessity charitable and liberal to all creatures. Now is -the happy resistance to cold, when the farmer reaps his reward, and -thinks of his preparedness for winter, and, through the glittering -panes, sees with equanimity "the mansion of the northern bear," for -now the storm is over,-- - - "The full ethereal round, - Infinite worlds disclosing to the view, - Shines out intensely keen; and all one cope - Of starry glitter glows from pole to pole." - - - - -THE SUCCESSION OF FOREST TREES[6] - - -Every man is entitled to come to Cattle-Show, even a -transcendentalist; and for my part I am more interested in the men -than in the cattle. I wish to see once more those old familiar faces, -whose names I do not know, which for me represent the Middlesex -country, and come as near being indigenous to the soil as a white man -can; the men who are not above their business, whose coats are not too -black, whose shoes do not shine very much, who never wear gloves to -conceal their hands. It is true, there are some queer specimens of -humanity attracted to our festival, but all are welcome. I am pretty -sure to meet once more that weak-minded and whimsical fellow, -generally weak-bodied too, who prefers a crooked stick for a cane; -perfectly useless, you would say, only _bizarre_, fit for a cabinet, -like a petrified snake. A ram's horn would be as convenient, and is -yet more curiously twisted. He brings that much indulged bit of the -country with him, from some town's end or other, and introduces it to -Concord groves, as if he had promised it so much sometime. So some, it -seems to me, elect their rulers for their crookedness. But I think -that a straight stick makes the best cane, and an upright man the best -ruler. Or why choose a man to do plain work who is distinguished for -his oddity? However, I do not know but you will think that they have -committed this mistake who invited me to speak to you to-day. - -In my capacity of surveyor, I have often talked with some of you, my -employers, at your dinner-tables, after having gone round and round -and behind your farming, and ascertained exactly what its limits were. -Moreover, taking a surveyor's and a naturalist's liberty, I have been -in the habit of going across your lots much oftener than is usual, as -many of you, perhaps to your sorrow, are aware. Yet many of you, to my -relief, have seemed not to be aware of it; and, when I came across you -in some out-of-the-way nook of your farms, have inquired, with an air -of surprise, if I were not lost, since you had never seen me in that -part of the town or county before; when, if the truth were known, and -it had not been for betraying my secret, I might with more propriety -have inquired if _you_ were not lost, since I had never seen _you_ -there before. I have several times shown the proprietor the shortest -way out of his wood-lot. - -Therefore, it would seem that I have some title to speak to you -to-day; and considering what that title is, and the occasion that has -called us together, I need offer no apology if I invite your -attention, for the few moments that are allotted me, to a purely -scientific subject. - -At those dinner-tables referred to, I have often been asked, as many -of you have been, if I could tell how it happened, that when a pine -wood was cut down an oak one commonly sprang up, and _vice versa_. To -which I have answered, and now answer, that I can tell,--that it is no -mystery to me. As I am not aware that this has been clearly shown by -any one, I shall lay the more stress on this point. Let me lead you -back into your wood-lots again. - -When, hereabouts, a single forest tree or a forest springs up -naturally where none of its kind grew before, I do not hesitate to -say, though in some quarters still it may sound paradoxical, that it -came from a seed. Of the various ways by which trees are _known_ to be -propagated,--by transplanting, cuttings, and the like,--this is the -only supposable one under these circumstances. No such tree has ever -been known to spring from anything else. If any one asserts that it -sprang from something else, or from nothing, the burden of proof lies -with him. - -It remains, then, only to show how the seed is transported from where -it grows to where it is planted. This is done chiefly by the agency of -the wind, water, and animals. The lighter seeds, as those of pines and -maples, are transported chiefly by wind and water; the heavier, as -acorns and nuts, by animals. - -In all the pines, a very thin membrane, in appearance much like an -insect's wing, grows over and around the seed, and independent of it, -while the latter is being developed within its base. Indeed this is -often perfectly developed, though the seed is abortive; nature being, -you would say, more sure to provide the means of transporting the -seed, than to provide the seed to be transported. In other words, a -beautiful thin sack is woven around the seed, with a handle to it such -as the wind can take hold of, and it is then committed to the wind, -expressly that it may transport the seed and extend the range of the -species; and this it does, as effectually as when seeds are sent by -mail in a different kind of sack from the Patent Office. There is a -patent office at the seat of government of the universe, whose -managers are as much interested in the dispersion of seeds as anybody -at Washington can be, and their operations are infinitely more -extensive and regular. - -There is, then, no necessity for supposing that the pines have sprung -up from nothing, and I am aware that I am not at all peculiar in -asserting that they come from seeds, though the mode of their -propagation _by nature_ has been but little attended to. They are very -extensively raised from the seed in Europe, and are beginning to be -here. - -When you cut down an oak wood, a pine wood will not _at once_ spring -up there unless there are, or have been quite recently, seed-bearing -pines near enough for the seeds to be blown from them. But, adjacent -to a forest of pines, if you prevent other crops from growing there, -you will surely have an extension of your pine forest, provided the -soil is suitable. - -As for the heavy seeds and nuts which are not furnished with wings, -the notion is still a very common one that, when the trees which bear -these spring up where none of their kind were noticed before, they -have come from seeds or other principles spontaneously generated there -in an unusual manner, or which have lain dormant in the soil for -centuries, or perhaps been called into activity by the heat of a -burning. I do not believe these assertions, and I will state some of -the ways in which, according to my observation, such forests are -planted and raised. - -Every one of these seeds, too, will be found to be winged or legged in -another fashion. Surely it is not wonderful that cherry trees of all -kinds are widely dispersed, since their fruit is well known to be the -favorite food of various birds. Many kinds are called bird cherries, -and they appropriate many more kinds, which are not so called. Eating -cherries is a bird-like employment, and unless we disperse the seeds -occasionally, as they do, I shall think that the birds have the best -right to them. See how artfully the seed of a cherry is placed in -order that a bird may be compelled to transport it,--in the very midst -of a tempting pericarp, so that the creature that would devour this -must commonly take the stone also into its mouth or bill. If you ever -ate a cherry, and did not make two bites of it, you must have -perceived it,--right in the centre of the luscious morsel, a large -earthy residuum left on the tongue. We thus take into our mouths -cherry-stones as big as peas, a dozen at once, for Nature can persuade -us to do almost anything when she would compass her ends. Some wild -men and children instinctively swallow these, as the birds do when in -a hurry, it being the shortest way to get rid of them. Thus, though -these seeds are not provided with vegetable wings, Nature has impelled -the thrush tribe to take them into their bills and fly away with them; -and they are winged in another sense, and more effectually than the -seeds of pines, for these are carried even against the wind. The -consequence is, that cherry trees grow not only here but there. The -same is true of a great many other seeds. - -But to come to the observation which suggested these remarks. As I -have said, I suspect that I can throw some light on the fact that when -hereabouts a dense pine wood is cut down, oaks and other hard woods -may at once take its place. I have got only to show that the acorns -and nuts, provided they are grown in the neighborhood, are regularly -planted in such woods; for I assert that if an oak tree has not grown -within ten miles, and man has not carried acorns thither, then an oak -wood will not spring up _at once_, when a pine wood is cut down. - -Apparently, there were only pines there before. They are cut off, and -after a year or two you see oaks and other hard woods springing up -there, with scarcely a pine amid them, and the wonder commonly is, how -the seed could have lain in the ground so long without decaying. But -the truth is, that it has not lain in the ground so long, but is -regularly planted each year by various quadrupeds and birds. - -In this neighborhood, where oaks and pines are about equally -dispersed, if you look through the thickest pine wood, even the -seemingly unmixed pitch pine ones, you will commonly detect many -little oaks, birches, and other hard woods, sprung from seeds carried -into the thicket by squirrels and other animals, and also blown -thither, but which are overshadowed and choked by the pines. The -denser the evergreen wood, the more likely it is to be well planted -with these seeds, because the planters incline to resort with their -forage to the closest covert. They also carry it into birch and other -woods. This planting is carried on annually, and the oldest seedlings -annually die; but when the pines are cleared off, the oaks, having got -just the start they want, and now secured favorable conditions, -immediately spring up to trees. - -The shade of a dense pine wood is more unfavorable to the springing up -of pines of the same species than of oaks within it, though the former -may come up abundantly when the pines are cut, if there chance to be -sound seed in the ground. - -But when you cut off a lot of hard wood, very often the little pines -mixed with it have a similar start, for the squirrels have carried off -the nuts to the pines, and not to the more open wood, and they -commonly make pretty clean work of it; and moreover, if the wood was -old, the sprouts will be feeble or entirely fail; to say nothing about -the soil being, in a measure, exhausted for this kind of crop. - -If a pine wood is surrounded by a white oak one chiefly, white oaks -may be expected to succeed when the pines are cut. If it is surrounded -instead by an edging of shrub oaks, then you will probably have a -dense shrub oak thicket. - -I have no time to go into details, but will say, in a word, that while -the wind is conveying the seeds of pines into hard woods and open -lands, the squirrels and other animals are conveying the seeds of oaks -and walnuts into the pine woods, and thus a rotation of crops is kept -up. - -I affirmed this confidently many years ago, and an occasional -examination of dense pine woods confirmed me in my opinion. It has -long been known to observers that squirrels bury nuts in the ground, -but I am not aware that any one has thus accounted for the regular -succession of forests. - -On the 24th of September, in 1857, as I was paddling down the Assabet, -in this town, I saw a red squirrel run along the bank under some -herbage, with something large in its mouth. It stopped near the foot -of a hemlock, within a couple of rods of me, and, hastily pawing a -hole with its fore feet, dropped its booty into it, covered it up, and -retreated part way up the trunk of the tree. As I approached the shore -to examine the deposit, the squirrel, descending part way, betrayed no -little anxiety about its treasure, and made two or three motions to -recover it before it finally retreated. Digging there, I found two -green pignuts joined together, with the thick husks on, buried about -an inch and a half under the reddish soil of decayed hemlock -leaves,--just the right depth to plant it. In short, this squirrel was -then engaged in accomplishing two objects, to wit, laying up a store -of winter food for itself, and planting a hickory wood for all -creation. If the squirrel was killed, or neglected its deposit, a -hickory would spring up. The nearest hickory tree was twenty rods -distant. These nuts were there still just fourteen days later, but -were gone when I looked again, November 21st, or six weeks later -still. - -I have since examined more carefully several dense woods, which are -said to be, and are apparently, exclusively pine, and always with the -same result. For instance, I walked the same day to a small but very -dense and handsome white pine grove, about fifteen rods square, in the -east part of this town. The trees are large for Concord, being from -ten to twenty inches in diameter, and as exclusively pine as any wood -that I know. Indeed, I selected this wood because I thought it the -least likely to contain anything else. It stands on an open plain or -pasture, except that it adjoins another small pine wood, which has a -few little oaks in it, on the southeast side. On every other side, it -was at least thirty rods from the nearest woods. Standing on the edge -of this grove and looking through it, for it is quite level and free -from underwood, for the most part bare, red-carpeted ground, you would -have said that there was not a hardwood tree in it, young or old. But -on looking carefully along over its floor I discovered, though it was -not till my eye had got used to the search, that, alternating with -thin ferns, and small blueberry bushes, there was, not merely here and -there, but as often as every five feet and with a degree of -regularity, a little oak, from three to twelve inches high, and in one -place I found a green acorn dropped by the base of a pine. - -I confess I was surprised to find my theory so perfectly proved in -this case. One of the principal agents in this planting, the red -squirrels, were all the while curiously inspecting me, while I was -inspecting their plantation. Some of the little oaks had been browsed -by cows, which resorted to this wood for shade. - -After seven or eight years, the hard woods evidently find such a -locality unfavorable to their growth, the pines being allowed to -stand. As an evidence of this, I observed a diseased red maple -twenty-five feet long, which had been recently prostrated, though it -was still covered with green leaves, the only maple in any position in -the wood. - -But although these oaks almost invariably die if the pines are not cut -down, it is probable that they do better for a few years under their -shelter than they would anywhere else. - -The very extensive and thorough experiments of the English have at -length led them to adopt a method of raising oaks almost precisely -like this which somewhat earlier had been adopted by Nature and her -squirrels here; they have simply rediscovered the value of pines as -nurses for oaks. The English experimenters seem, early and generally, -to have found out the importance of using trees of some kind as -nurse-plants for the young oaks. I quote from Loudon what he describes -as "the ultimatum on the subject of planting and sheltering -oaks,"--"an abstract of the practice adopted by the government -officers in the national forests" of England, prepared by Alexander -Milne. - -At first some oaks had been planted by themselves, and others mixed -with Scotch pines; "but in all cases," says Mr. Milne, "where oaks -were planted actually among the pines and surrounded by them [though -the soil might be inferior], the oaks were found to be much the best." -"For several years past, the plan pursued has been to plant the -inclosures with Scotch pines only [a tree very similar to our pitch -pine], and when the pines have got to the height of five or six feet, -then to put in good strong oak plants of about four or five years' -growth among the pines,--not cutting away any pines at first, unless -they happen to be so strong and thick as to overshadow the oaks. In -about two years it becomes necessary to shred the branches of the -pines, to give light and air to the oaks, and in about two or three -more years to begin gradually to remove the pines altogether, taking -out a certain number each year, so that, at the end of twenty or -twenty-five years, not a single Scotch pine shall be left; although, -for the first ten or twelve years, the plantation may have appeared to -contain nothing else but pine. The advantage of this mode of planting -has been found to be that the pines dry and ameliorate the soil, -destroying the coarse grass and brambles which frequently choke and -injure oaks; and that no mending over is necessary, as scarcely an oak -so planted is found to fail." - -Thus much the English planters have discovered by patient experiment, -and, for aught I know, they have taken out a patent for it; but they -appear not to have discovered that it was discovered before, and that -they are merely adopting the method of Nature, which she long ago made -patent to all. She is all the while planting the oaks amid the pines -without our knowledge, and at last, instead of government officers, we -send a party of woodchoppers to cut down the pines, and so rescue an -oak forest, at which we wonder as if it had dropped from the skies. - -As I walk amid hickories, even in August, I hear the sound of green -pignuts falling from time to time, cut off by the chickaree over my -head. In the fall, I notice on the ground, either within or in the -neighborhood of oak woods, on all sides of the town, stout oak twigs -three or four inches long, bearing half a dozen empty acorn-cups, -which twigs have been gnawed off by squirrels, on both sides of the -nuts, in order to make them more portable. The jays scream and the red -squirrels scold while you are clubbing and shaking the chestnut trees, -for they are there on the same errand, and two of a trade never agree. -I frequently see a red or gray squirrel cast down a green chestnut -bur, as I am going through the woods, and I used to think, sometimes, -that they were cast at me. In fact, they are so busy about it, in the -midst of the chestnut season, that you cannot stand long in the woods -without hearing one fall. A sportsman told me that he had, the day -before,--that was in the middle of October,--seen a green chestnut bur -dropped on our great river meadow, fifty rods from the nearest wood, -and much further from the nearest chestnut tree, and he could not tell -how it came there. Occasionally, when chestnutting in midwinter, I -find thirty or forty nuts in a pile, left in its gallery, just under -the leaves, by the common wood mouse (_Mus leucopus_). - -But especially, in the winter, the extent to which this transportation -and planting of nuts is carried on is made apparent by the snow. In -almost every wood, you will see where the red or gray squirrels have -pawed down through the snow in a hundred places, sometimes two feet -deep, and almost always directly to a nut or a pine cone, as directly -as if they had started from it and bored upward,--which you and I -could not have done. It would be difficult for us to find one before -the snow falls. Commonly, no doubt, they had deposited them there in -the fall. You wonder if they remember the localities, or discover them -by the scent. The red squirrel commonly has its winter abode in the -earth under a thicket of evergreens, frequently under a small clump of -evergreens in the midst of a deciduous wood. If there are any nut -trees which still retain their nuts standing at a distance without the -wood, their paths often lead directly to and from them. We therefore -need not suppose an oak standing here and there _in_ the wood in order -to seed it, but if a few stand within twenty or thirty rods of it, it -is sufficient. - -I think that I may venture to say that every white pine cone that -falls to the earth naturally in this town, before opening and losing -its seeds, and almost every pitch pine one that falls at all, is cut -off by a squirrel, and they begin to pluck them long before they are -ripe, so that when the crop of white pine cones is a small one, as it -commonly is, they cut off thus almost every one of these before it -fairly ripens. I think, moreover, that their design, if I may so -speak, in cutting them off green, is, partly, to prevent their opening -and losing their seeds, for these are the ones for which they dig -through the snow, and the only white pine cones which contain anything -then. I have counted in one heap, within a diameter of four feet, the -cores of 239 pitch pine cones which had been cut off and stripped by -the red squirrel the previous winter. - -The nuts thus left on the surface, or buried just beneath it, are -placed in the most favorable circumstances for germinating. I have -sometimes wondered how those which merely fell on the surface of the -earth got planted; but, by the end of December, I find the chestnut of -the same year partially mixed with the mould, as it were, under the -decaying and mouldy leaves, where there is all the moisture and manure -they want, for the nuts fall fast. In a plentiful year, a large -proportion of the nuts are thus covered loosely an inch deep, and are, -of course, somewhat concealed from squirrels. One winter, when the -crop had been abundant, I got, with the aid of a rake, many quarts of -these nuts as late as the tenth of January, and though some bought at -the store the same day were more than half of them mouldy, I did not -find a single mouldy one among these which I picked from under the wet -and mouldy leaves, where they had been snowed on once or twice. Nature -knows how to pack them best. They were still plump and tender. -Apparently, they do not heat there, though wet. In the spring they -were all sprouting. - -Loudon says that "when the nut [of the common walnut of Europe] is to -be preserved through the winter for the purpose of planting in the -following spring, it should be laid in a rot-heap, as soon as -gathered, with the husk on, and the heap should be turned over -frequently in the course of the winter." - -Here, again, he is stealing Nature's "thunder." How can a poor mortal -do otherwise? for it is she that finds fingers to steal with, and the -treasure to be stolen. In the planting of the seeds of most trees, the -best gardeners do no more than follow Nature, though they may not know -it. Generally, both large and small ones are most sure to germinate, -and succeed best, when only beaten into the earth with the back of a -spade, and then covered with leaves or straw. These results to which -planters have arrived remind us of the experience of Kane and his -companions at the north, who, when learning to live in that climate, -were surprised to find themselves steadily adopting the customs of the -natives, simply becoming Esquimaux. So, when we experiment in planting -forests, we find ourselves at last doing as Nature does. Would it not -be well to consult with Nature in the outset? for she is the most -extensive and experienced planter of us all, not excepting the Dukes -of Athol. - -In short, they who have not attended particularly to this subject are -but little aware to what an extent quadrupeds and birds are employed, -especially in the fall, in collecting, and so disseminating and -planting, the seeds of trees. It is the almost constant employment of -the squirrels at that season, and you rarely meet with one that has -not a nut in its mouth, or is not just going to get one. One -squirrel-hunter of this town told me that he knew of a walnut tree -which bore particularly good nuts, but that on going to gather them -one fall, he found that he had been anticipated by a family of a dozen -red squirrels. He took out of the tree, which was hollow, one bushel -and three pecks by measurement, without the husks, and they supplied -him and his family for the winter. It would be easy to multiply -instances of this kind. How commonly in the fall you see the -cheek-pouches of the striped squirrel distended by a quantity of nuts! -This species gets its scientific name, _Tamias_, or the steward, from -its habit of storing up nuts and other seeds. Look under a nut tree a -month after the nuts have fallen, and see what proportion of sound -nuts to the abortive ones and shells you will find ordinarily. They -have been already eaten, or dispersed far and wide. The ground looks -like a platform before a grocery, where the gossips of the village sit -to crack nuts and less savory jokes. You have come, you would say, -after the feast was over, and are presented with the shells only. - -Occasionally, when threading the woods in the fall, you will hear a -sound as if some one had broken a twig, and, looking up, see a jay -pecking at an acorn, or you will see a flock of them at once about it, -in the top of an oak, and hear them break them off. They then fly to a -suitable limb, and placing the acorn under one foot, hammer away at it -busily, making a sound like a woodpecker's tapping, looking round from -time to time to see if any foe is approaching, and soon reach the -meat, and nibble at it, holding up their heads to swallow, while they -hold the remainder very firmly with their claws. Nevertheless it often -drops to the ground before the bird has done with it. I can confirm -what William Bartram wrote to Wilson, the ornithologist, that "the jay -is one of the most useful agents in the economy of nature, for -disseminating forest trees and other nuciferous and hard-seeded -vegetables on which they feed. Their chief employment during the -autumnal season is foraging to supply their winter stores. In -performing this necessary duty they drop abundance of seed in their -flight over fields, hedges, and by fences, where they alight to -deposit them in the post-holes, etc. It is remarkable what numbers of -young trees rise up in fields and pastures after a wet winter and -spring. These birds alone are capable, in a few years' time, to -replant all the cleared lands." - -I have noticed that squirrels also frequently drop their nuts in open -land, which will still further account for the oaks and walnuts which -spring up in pastures, for, depend on it, every new tree comes from a -seed. When I examine the little oaks, one or two years old, in such -places, I invariably find the empty acorn from which they sprung. - -So far from the seed having lain dormant in the soil since oaks grew -there before, as many believe, it is well known that it is difficult -to preserve the vitality of acorns long enough to transport them to -Europe; and it is recommended in Loudon's "Arboretum," as the safest -course, to sprout them in pots on the voyage. The same authority -states that "very few acorns of any species will germinate after -having been kept a year," that beech mast "only retains its vital -properties one year," and the black walnut "seldom more than six -months after it has ripened." I have frequently found that in November -almost every acorn left on the ground had sprouted or decayed. What -with frost, drouth, moisture, and worms, the greater part are soon -destroyed. Yet it is stated by one botanical writer that "acorns that -have lain for centuries, on being ploughed up, have soon vegetated." - -Mr. George B. Emerson, in his valuable Report on the Trees and Shrubs -of this State, says of the pines: "The tenacity of life of the seeds -is remarkable. They will remain for many years unchanged in the -ground, protected by the coolness and deep shade of the forest above -them. But when the forest is removed, and the warmth of the sun -admitted, they immediately vegetate." Since he does not tell us on -what observation his remark is founded, I must doubt its truth. -Besides, the experience of nursery-men makes it the more questionable. - -The stories of wheat raised from seed buried with an ancient Egyptian, -and of raspberries raised from seed found in the stomach of a man in -England, who is supposed to have died sixteen or seventeen hundred -years ago, are generally discredited, simply because the evidence is -not conclusive. - -Several men of science, Dr. Carpenter among them, have used the -statement that beach plums sprang up in sand which was dug up forty -miles inland in Maine, to prove that the seed had lain there a very -long time, and some have inferred that the coast has receded so far. -But it seems to me necessary to their argument to show, first, that -beach plums grow only on a beach. They are not uncommon here, which is -about half that distance from the shore; and I remember a dense patch -a few miles north of us, twenty-five miles inland, from which the -fruit was annually carried to market. How much further inland they -grow, I know not. Dr. Charles T. Jackson speaks of finding "beach -plums" (perhaps they were this kind) more than one hundred miles -inland in Maine. - -It chances that similar objections lie against all the more notorious -instances of the kind on record. - -Yet I am prepared to believe that some seeds, especially small ones, -may retain their vitality for centuries under favorable circumstances. -In the spring of 1859, the old Hunt house, so called, in this town, -whose chimney bore the date 1703, was taken down. This stood on land -which belonged to John Winthrop, the first governor of Massachusetts, -and a part of the house was evidently much older than the above date, -and belonged to the Winthrop family. For many years I have ransacked -this neighborhood for plants, and I consider myself familiar with its -productions. Thinking of the seeds which are said to be sometimes dug -up at an unusual depth in the earth, and thus to reproduce long -extinct plants, it occurred to me last fall that some new or rare -plants might have sprung up in the cellar of this house, which had -been covered from the light so long. Searching there on the 22d of -September, I found, among other rank weeds, a species of nettle -(_Urtica urens_) which I had not found before; dill, which I had not -seen growing spontaneously; the Jerusalem oak (_Chenopodium Botrys_), -which I had seen wild in but one place; black nightshade (_Solanum -nigrum_), which is quite rare hereabouts, and common tobacco, which, -though it was often cultivated here in the last century, has for fifty -years been an unknown plant in this town, and a few months before this -not even I had heard that one man, in the north part of the town, was -cultivating a few plants for his own use. I have no doubt that some or -all of these plants sprang from seeds which had long been buried under -or about that house, and that that tobacco is an additional evidence -that the plant was formerly cultivated here. The cellar has been -filled up this year, and four of those plants, including the tobacco, -are now again extinct in that locality. - -It is true, I have shown that the animals consume a great part of the -seeds of trees, and so, at least, effectually prevent their becoming -trees; but in all these cases, as I have said, the consumer is -compelled to be at the same time the disperser and planter, and this -is the tax which he pays to Nature. I think it is Linnæus who says -that while the swine is rooting for acorns he is planting acorns. - -Though I do not believe that a plant will spring up where no seed has -been, I have great faith in a seed,--a, to me, equally mysterious -origin for it. Convince me that you have a seed there, and I am -prepared to expect wonders. I shall even believe that the millennium -is at hand, and that the reign of justice is about to commence, when -the Patent Office, or Government, begins to distribute, and the people -to plant, the seeds of these things. - -In the spring of 1857 I planted six seeds sent to me from the Patent -Office, and labeled, I think, _Poitrine jaune grosse_, large yellow -squash. Two came up, and one bore a squash which weighed 123½ pounds, -the other bore four, weighing together 186¼ pounds. Who would have -believed that there was 310 pounds of _poitrine jaune grosse_ in that -corner of my garden? These seeds were the bait I used to catch it, my -ferrets which I sent into its burrow, my brace of terriers which -unearthed it. A little mysterious hoeing and manuring was all the -_abracadabra presto-change_ that I used, and lo! true to the label, -they found for me 310 pounds of _poitrine jaune grosse_ there, where -it never was known to be, nor was before. These talismans had -perchance sprung from America at first, and returned to it with -unabated force. The big squash took a premium at your fair that fall, -and I understood that the man who bought it, intended to sell the -seeds for ten cents apiece. (Were they not cheap at that?) But I have -more hounds of the same breed. I learn that one which I despatched to -a distant town, true to its instincts, points to the large yellow -squash there, too, where no hound ever found it before, as its -ancestors did here and in France. - -Other seeds I have which will find other things in that corner of my -garden, in like fashion, almost any fruit you wish, every year for -ages, until the crop more than fills the whole garden. You have but -little more to do than throw up your cap for entertainment these -American days. Perfect alchemists I keep who can transmute substances -without end, and thus the corner of my garden is an inexhaustible -treasure-chest. Here you can dig, not gold, but the value which gold -merely represents; and there is no Signor Blitz about it. Yet farmers' -sons will stare by the hour to see a juggler draw ribbons from his -throat, though he tells them it is all deception. Surely, men love -darkness rather than light. - -FOOTNOTE: - -[6] An Address read to the Middlesex Agricultural Society in Concord, -September, 1860. - - - - -WALKING - - -I wish to speak a word for Nature, for absolute freedom and wildness, -as contrasted with a freedom and culture merely civil,--to regard man -as an inhabitant, or a part and parcel of Nature, rather than a member -of society. I wish to make an extreme statement, if so I may make an -emphatic one, for there are enough champions of civilization: the -minister and the school committee and every one of you will take care -of that. - - * * * * * - -I have met with but one or two persons in the course of my life who -understood the art of Walking, that is, of taking walks,--who had a -genius, so to speak, for _sauntering_, which word is beautifully -derived "from idle people who roved about the country, in the Middle -Ages, and asked charity, under pretense of going _à la Sainte Terre_," -to the Holy Land, till the children exclaimed, "There goes a -_Sainte-Terrer_," a Saunterer, a Holy-Lander. They who never go to the -Holy Land in their walks, as they pretend, are indeed mere idlers and -vagabonds; but they who do go there are saunterers in the good sense, -such as I mean. Some, however, would derive the word from _sans -terre_, without land or a home, which, therefore, in the good sense, -will mean, having no particular home, but equally at home everywhere. -For this is the secret of successful sauntering. He who sits still in -a house all the time may be the greatest vagrant of all; but the -saunterer, in the good sense, is no more vagrant than the meandering -river, which is all the while sedulously seeking the shortest course -to the sea. But I prefer the first, which, indeed, is the most -probable derivation. For every walk is a sort of crusade, preached by -some Peter the Hermit in us, to go forth and reconquer this Holy Land -from the hands of the Infidels. - -It is true, we are but faint-hearted crusaders, even the walkers, -nowadays, who undertake no persevering, never-ending enterprises. Our -expeditions are but tours, and come round again at evening to the old -hearth-side from which we set out. Half the walk is but retracing our -steps. We should go forth on the shortest walk, perchance, in the -spirit of undying adventure, never to return,--prepared to send back -our embalmed hearts only as relics to our desolate kingdoms. If you -are ready to leave father and mother, and brother and sister, and wife -and child and friends, and never see them again,--if you have paid -your debts, and made your will, and settled all your affairs, and are -a free man, then you are ready for a walk. - -To come down to my own experience, my companion and I, for I sometimes -have a companion, take pleasure in fancying ourselves knights of a -new, or rather an old, order,--not Equestrians or Chevaliers, not -Ritters or Riders, but Walkers, a still more ancient and honorable -class, I trust. The chivalric and heroic spirit which once belonged to -the Rider seems now to reside in, or perchance to have subsided into, -the Walker,--not the Knight, but Walker, Errant. He is a sort of -fourth estate, outside of Church and State and People. - -We have felt that we almost alone hereabouts practiced this noble -art; though, to tell the truth, at least if their own assertions are -to be received, most of my townsmen would fain walk sometimes, as I -do, but they cannot. No wealth can buy the requisite leisure, freedom, -and independence which are the capital in this profession. It comes -only by the grace of God. It requires a direct dispensation from -Heaven to become a walker. You must be born into the family of the -Walkers. _Ambulator nascitur, non fit._ Some of my townsmen, it is -true, can remember and have described to me some walks which they took -ten years ago, in which they were so blessed as to lose themselves for -half an hour in the woods; but I know very well that they have -confined themselves to the highway ever since, whatever pretensions -they may make to belong to this select class. No doubt they were -elevated for a moment as by the reminiscence of a previous state of -existence, when even they were foresters and outlaws. - - "When he came to grene wode, - In a mery mornynge, - There he herde the notes small - Of byrdes mery syngynge. - - "It is ferre gone, sayd Robyn, - That I was last here; - Me lyste a lytell for to shote - At the donne dere." - -I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits, unless I spend -four hours a day at least--and it is commonly more than -that--sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields, -absolutely free from all worldly engagements. You may safely say, A -penny for your thoughts, or a thousand pounds. When sometimes I am -reminded that the mechanics and shopkeepers stay in their shops not -only all the forenoon, but all the afternoon too, sitting with crossed -legs, so many of them,--as if the legs were made to sit upon, and not -to stand or walk upon,--I think that they deserve some credit for not -having all committed suicide long ago. - -I, who cannot stay in my chamber for a single day without acquiring -some rust, and when sometimes I have stolen forth for a walk at the -eleventh hour, or four o'clock in the afternoon, too late to redeem -the day, when the shades of night were already beginning to be mingled -with the daylight, have felt as if I had committed some sin to be -atoned for,--I confess that I am astonished at the power of endurance, -to say nothing of the moral insensibility, of my neighbors who confine -themselves to shops and offices the whole day for weeks and months, -aye, and years almost together. I know not what manner of stuff they -are of,--sitting there now at three o'clock in the afternoon, as if it -were three o'clock in the morning. Bonaparte may talk of the -three-o'clock-in-the-morning courage, but it is nothing to the courage -which can sit down cheerfully at this hour in the afternoon over -against one's self whom you have known all the morning, to starve out -a garrison to whom you are bound by such strong ties of sympathy. I -wonder that about this time, or say between four and five o'clock in -the afternoon, too late for the morning papers and too early for the -evening ones, there is not a general explosion heard up and down the -street, scattering a legion of antiquated and house-bred notions and -whims to the four winds for an airing,--and so the evil cure itself. - -How womankind, who are confined to the house still more than men, -stand it I do not know; but I have ground to suspect that most of them -do not _stand_ it at all. When, early in a summer afternoon, we have -been shaking the dust of the village from the skirts of our garments, -making haste past those houses with purely Doric or Gothic fronts, -which have such an air of repose about them, my companion whispers -that probably about these times their occupants are all gone to bed. -Then it is that I appreciate the beauty and the glory of architecture, -which itself never turns in, but forever stands out and erect, keeping -watch over the slumberers. - -No doubt temperament, and, above all, age, have a good deal to do with -it. As a man grows older, his ability to sit still and follow indoor -occupations increases. He grows vespertinal in his habits as the -evening of life approaches, till at last he comes forth only just -before sundown, and gets all the walk that he requires in half an -hour. - -But the walking of which I speak has nothing in it akin to taking -exercise, as it is called, as the sick take medicine at stated -hours,--as the swinging of dumbbells or chairs; but is itself the -enterprise and adventure of the day. If you would get exercise, go in -search of the springs of life. Think of a man's swinging dumbbells for -his health, when those springs are bubbling up in far-off pastures -unsought by him! - -Moreover, you must walk like a camel, which is said to be the only -beast which ruminates when walking. When a traveler asked Wordsworth's -servant to show him her master's study, she answered, "Here is his -library, but his study is out of doors." - -Living much out of doors, in the sun and wind, will no doubt produce a -certain roughness of character,--will cause a thicker cuticle to grow -over some of the finer qualities of our nature, as on the face and -hands, or as severe manual labor robs the hands of some of their -delicacy of touch. So staying in the house, on the other hand, may -produce a softness and smoothness, not to say thinness of skin, -accompanied by an increased sensibility to certain impressions. -Perhaps we should be more susceptible to some influences important to -our intellectual and moral growth, if the sun had shone and the wind -blown on us a little less; and no doubt it is a nice matter to -proportion rightly the thick and thin skin. But methinks that is a -scurf that will fall off fast enough,--that the natural remedy is to -be found in the proportion which the night bears to the day, the -winter to the summer, thought to experience. There will be so much the -more air and sunshine in our thoughts. The callous palms of the -laborer are conversant with finer tissues of self-respect and heroism, -whose touch thrills the heart, than the languid fingers of idleness. -That is mere sentimentality that lies abed by day and thinks itself -white, far from the tan and callus of experience. - -When we walk, we naturally go to the fields and woods: what would -become of us, if we walked only in a garden or a mall? Even some -sects of philosophers have felt the necessity of importing the woods -to themselves, since they did not go to the woods. "They planted -groves and walks of Platanes," where they took _subdiales -ambulationes_ in porticos open to the air. Of course it is of no use -to direct our steps to the woods, if they do not carry us thither. I -am alarmed when it happens that I have walked a mile into the woods -bodily, without getting there in spirit. In my afternoon walk I would -fain forget all my morning occupations and my obligations to society. -But it sometimes happens that I cannot easily shake off the village. -The thought of some work will run in my head and I am not where my -body is,--I am out of my senses. In my walks I would fain return to my -senses. What business have I in the woods, if I am thinking of -something out of the woods? I suspect myself, and cannot help a -shudder, when I find myself so implicated even in what are called good -works,--for this may sometimes happen. - -My vicinity affords many good walks; and though for so many years I -have walked almost every day, and sometimes for several days together, -I have not yet exhausted them. An absolutely new prospect is a great -happiness, and I can still get this any afternoon. Two or three hours' -walking will carry me to as strange a country as I expect ever to see. -A single farmhouse which I had not seen before is sometimes as good as -the dominions of the King of Dahomey. There is in fact a sort of -harmony discoverable between the capabilities of the landscape within -a circle of ten miles' radius, or the limits of an afternoon walk, and -the threescore years and ten of human life. It will never become -quite familiar to you. - -Nowadays almost all man's improvements, so called, as the building of -houses and the cutting down of the forest and of all large trees, -simply deform the landscape, and make it more and more tame and cheap. -A people who would begin by burning the fences and let the forest -stand! I saw the fences half consumed, their ends lost in the middle -of the prairie, and some worldly miser with a surveyor looking after -his bounds, while heaven had taken place around him, and he did not -see the angels going to and fro, but was looking for an old post-hole -in the midst of paradise. I looked again, and saw him standing in the -middle of a boggy Stygian fen, surrounded by devils, and he had found -his bounds without a doubt, three little stones, where a stake had -been driven, and looking nearer, I saw that the Prince of Darkness was -his surveyor. - -I can easily walk ten, fifteen, twenty, any number of miles, -commencing at my own door, without going by any house, without -crossing a road except where the fox and the mink do: first along by -the river, and then the brook, and then the meadow and the woodside. -There are square miles in my vicinity which have no inhabitant. From -many a hill I can see civilization and the abodes of man afar. The -farmers and their works are scarcely more obvious than woodchucks and -their burrows. Man and his affairs, church and state and school, trade -and commerce, and manufactures and agriculture, even politics, the -most alarming of them all,--I am pleased to see how little space they -occupy in the landscape. Politics is but a narrow field, and that -still narrower highway yonder leads to it. I sometimes direct the -traveler thither. If you would go to the political world, follow the -great road,--follow that market-man, keep his dust in your eyes, and -it will lead you straight to it; for it, too, has its place merely, -and does not occupy all space. I pass from it as from a bean-field -into the forest, and it is forgotten. In one half-hour I can walk off -to some portion of the earth's surface where a man does not stand from -one year's end to another, and there, consequently, politics are not, -for they are but as the cigar-smoke of a man. - -The village is the place to which the roads tend, a sort of expansion -of the highway, as a lake of a river. It is the body of which roads -are the arms and legs,--a trivial or quadrivial place, the -thoroughfare and ordinary of travelers. The word is from the Latin -_villa_, which together with _via_, a way, or more anciently _ved_ and -_vella_, Varro derives from _veho_, to carry, because the villa is the -place to and from which things are carried. They who got their living -by teaming were said _vellaturam facere_. Hence, too, the Latin word -_vilis_ and our vile, also _villain_. This suggests what kind of -degeneracy villagers are liable to. They are wayworn by the travel -that goes by and over them, without traveling themselves. - -Some do not walk at all; others walk in the highways; a few walk -across lots. Roads are made for horses and men of business. I do not -travel in them much, comparatively, because I am not in a hurry to get -to any tavern or grocery or livery-stable or depot to which they -lead. I am a good horse to travel, but not from choice a roadster. The -landscape-painter uses the figures of men to mark a road. He would not -make that use of my figure. I walk out into a nature such as the old -prophets and poets, Menu, Moses, Homer, Chaucer, walked in. You may -name it America, but it is not America; neither Americus Vespucius, -nor Columbus, nor the rest were the discoverers of it. There is a -truer account of it in mythology than in any history of America, so -called, that I have seen. - -However, there are a few old roads that may be trodden with profit, as -if they led somewhere now that they are nearly discontinued. There is -the Old Marlborough Road, which does not go to Marlborough now, -methinks, unless that is Marlborough where it carries me. I am the -bolder to speak of it here, because I presume that there are one or -two such roads in every town. - - - [Illustration: _The Old Marlborough Road_] - -THE OLD MARLBOROUGH ROAD - - Where they once dug for money, - But never found any; - Where sometimes Martial Miles - Singly files, - And Elijah Wood, - I fear for no good: - No other man, - Save Elisha Dugan,-- - O man of wild habits, - Partridges and rabbits, - Who hast no cares - Only to set snares, - Who liv'st all alone, - Close to the bone, - And where life is sweetest - Constantly eatest. - When the spring stirs my blood - With the instinct to travel, - I can get enough gravel - On the Old Marlborough Road. - Nobody repairs it, - For nobody wears it; - It is a living way, - As the Christians say. - Not many there be - Who enter therein, - Only the guests of the - Irishman Quin. - What is it, what is it, - But a direction out there, - And the bare possibility - Of going somewhere? - Great guide-boards of stone, - But travelers none; - Cenotaphs of the towns - Named on their crowns. - It is worth going to see - Where you _might_ be. - What king - Did the thing, - I am still wondering; - Set up how or when, - By what selectmen, - Gourgas or Lee, - Clark or Darby? - They're a great endeavor - To be something forever; - Blank tablets of stone, - Where a traveler might groan, - And in one sentence - Grave all that is known; - Which another might read, - In his extreme need. - I know one or two - Lines that would do, - Literature that might stand - All over the land, - Which a man could remember - Till next December, - And read again in the spring, - After the thawing. - If with fancy unfurled - You leave your abode, - You may go round the world - By the Old Marlborough Road. - -At present, in this vicinity, the best part of the land is not private -property; the landscape is not owned, and the walker enjoys -comparative freedom. But possibly the day will come when it will be -partitioned off into so-called pleasure-grounds, in which a few will -take a narrow and exclusive pleasure only,--when fences shall be -multiplied, and man-traps and other engines invented to confine men to -the _public_ road, and walking over the surface of God's earth shall -be construed to mean trespassing on some gentleman's grounds. To enjoy -a thing exclusively is commonly to exclude yourself from the true -enjoyment of it. Let us improve our opportunities, then, before the -evil days come. - - * * * * * - -What is it that makes it so hard sometimes to determine whither we -will walk? I believe that there is a subtle magnetism in Nature, -which, if we unconsciously yield to it, will direct us aright. It is -not indifferent to us which way we walk. There is a right way; but we -are very liable from heedlessness and stupidity to take the wrong one. -We would fain take that walk, never yet taken by us through this -actual world, which is perfectly symbolical of the path which we love -to travel in the interior and ideal world; and sometimes, no doubt, we -find it difficult to choose our direction, because it does not yet -exist distinctly in our idea. - -When I go out of the house for a walk, uncertain as yet whither I will -bend my steps, and submit myself to my instinct to decide for me, I -find, strange and whimsical as it may seem, that I finally and -inevitably settle southwest, toward some particular wood or meadow or -deserted pasture or hill in that direction. My needle is slow to -settle,--varies a few degrees, and does not always point due -southwest, it is true, and it has good authority for this variation, -but it always settles between west and south-southwest. The future -lies that way to me, and the earth seems more unexhausted and richer -on that side. The outline which would bound my walks would be, not a -circle, but a parabola, or rather like one of those cometary orbits -which have been thought to be non-returning curves, in this case -opening westward, in which my house occupies the place of the sun. I -turn round and round irresolute sometimes for a quarter of an hour, -until I decide, for a thousandth time, that I will walk into the -southwest or west. Eastward I go only by force; but westward I go -free. Thither no business leads me. It is hard for me to believe that -I shall find fair landscapes or sufficient wildness and freedom behind -the eastern horizon. I am not excited by the prospect of a walk -thither; but I believe that the forest which I see in the western -horizon stretches uninterruptedly toward the setting sun, and there -are no towns nor cities in it of enough consequence to disturb me. -Let me live where I will, on this side is the city, on that the -wilderness, and ever I am leaving the city more and more, and -withdrawing into the wilderness. I should not lay so much stress on -this fact, if I did not believe that something like this is the -prevailing tendency of my countrymen. I must walk toward Oregon, and -not toward Europe. And that way the nation is moving, and I may say -that mankind progress from east to west. Within a few years we have -witnessed the phenomenon of a southeastward migration, in the -settlement of Australia; but this affects us as a retrograde movement, -and, judging from the moral and physical character of the first -generation of Australians, has not yet proved a successful experiment. -The eastern Tartars think that there is nothing west beyond Thibet. -"The world ends there," say they; "beyond there is nothing but a -shoreless sea." It is unmitigated East where they live. - -We go eastward to realize history and study the works of art and -literature, retracing the steps of the race; we go westward as into -the future, with a spirit of enterprise and adventure. The Atlantic is -a Lethean stream, in our passage over which we have had an opportunity -to forget the Old World and its institutions. If we do not succeed -this time, there is perhaps one more chance for the race left before -it arrives on the banks of the Styx; and that is in the Lethe of the -Pacific, which is three times as wide. - -I know not how significant it is, or how far it is an evidence of -singularity, that an individual should thus consent in his pettiest -walk with the general movement of the race; but I know that something -akin to the migratory instinct in birds and quadrupeds,--which, in -some instances, is known to have affected the squirrel tribe, -impelling them to a general and mysterious movement, in which they -were seen, say some, crossing the broadest rivers, each on its -particular chip, with its tail raised for a sail, and bridging -narrower streams with their dead,--that something like the _furor_ -which affects the domestic cattle in the spring, and which is referred -to a worm in their tails, affects both nations and individuals, either -perennially or from time to time. Not a flock of wild geese cackles -over our town, but it to some extent unsettles the value of real -estate here, and, if I were a broker, I should probably take that -disturbance into account. - - "Than longen folk to gon on pilgrimages, - And palmeres for to seken strange strondes." - -Every sunset which I witness inspires me with the desire to go to a -West as distant and as fair as that into which the sun goes down. He -appears to migrate westward daily, and tempt us to follow him. He is -the Great Western Pioneer whom the nations follow. We dream all night -of those mountain-ridges in the horizon, though they may be of vapor -only, which were last gilded by his rays. The island of Atlantis, and -the islands and gardens of the Hesperides, a sort of terrestrial -paradise, appear to have been the Great West of the ancients, -enveloped in mystery and poetry. Who has not seen in imagination, when -looking into the sunset sky, the gardens of the Hesperides, and the -foundation of all those fables? - -Columbus felt the westward tendency more strongly than any before. He -obeyed it, and found a New World for Castile and Leon. The herd of men -in those days scented fresh pastures from afar. - - "And now the sun had stretched out all the hills, - And now was dropped into the western bay; - At last _he_ rose, and twitched his mantle blue; - To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new." - -Where on the globe can there be found an area of equal extent with -that occupied by the bulk of our States, so fertile and so rich and -varied in its productions, and at the same time so habitable by the -European, as this is? Michaux, who knew but part of them, says that -"the species of large trees are much more numerous in North America -than in Europe; in the United States there are more than one hundred -and forty species that exceed thirty feet in height; in France there -are but thirty that attain this size." Later botanists more than -confirm his observations. Humboldt came to America to realize his -youthful dreams of a tropical vegetation, and he beheld it in its -greatest perfection in the primitive forests of the Amazon, the most -gigantic wilderness on the earth, which he has so eloquently -described. The geographer Guyot, himself a European, goes -farther,--farther than I am ready to follow him; yet not when he says: -"As the plant is made for the animal, as the vegetable world is made -for the animal world, America is made for the man of the Old World.... -The man of the Old World sets out upon his way. Leaving the highlands -of Asia, he descends from station to station towards Europe. Each of -his steps is marked by a new civilization superior to the preceding, -by a greater power of development. Arrived at the Atlantic, he pauses -on the shore of this unknown ocean, the bounds of which he knows not, -and turns upon his footprints for an instant." When he has exhausted -the rich soil of Europe, and reinvigorated himself, "then recommences -his adventurous career westward as in the earliest ages." So far -Guyot. - -From this western impulse coming in contact with the barrier of the -Atlantic sprang the commerce and enterprise of modern times. The -younger Michaux, in his "Travels West of the Alleghanies in 1802," -says that the common inquiry in the newly settled West was, "'From -what part of the world have you come?' As if these vast and fertile -regions would naturally be the place of meeting and common country of -all the inhabitants of the globe." - -To use an obsolete Latin word, I might say, _Ex Oriente lux; ex -Occidente_ FRUX. From the East light; from the West fruit. - -Sir Francis Head, an English traveler and a Governor-General of -Canada, tells us that "in both the northern and southern hemispheres -of the New World, Nature has not only outlined her works on a larger -scale, but has painted the whole picture with brighter and more costly -colors than she used in delineating and in beautifying the Old -World.... The heavens of America appear infinitely higher, the sky is -bluer, the air is fresher, the cold is intenser, the moon looks -larger, the stars are brighter, the thunder is louder, the lightning -is vivider, the wind is stronger, the rain is heavier, the mountains -are higher, the rivers longer, the forests bigger, the plains -broader." This statement will do at least to set against Buffon's -account of this part of the world and its productions. - -Linnæus said long ago, "Nescio quae facies _laeta_, _glabra_ plantis -Americanis" (I know not what there is of joyous and smooth in the -aspect of American plants); and I think that in this country there are -no, or at most very few, _Africanae bestiae_, African beasts, as the -Romans called them, and that in this respect also it is peculiarly -fitted for the habitation of man. We are told that within three miles -of the centre of the East-Indian city of Singapore, some of the -inhabitants are annually carried off by tigers; but the traveler can -lie down in the woods at night almost anywhere in North America -without fear of wild beasts. - -These are encouraging testimonies. If the moon looks larger here than -in Europe, probably the sun looks larger also. If the heavens of -America appear infinitely higher, and the stars brighter, I trust that -these facts are symbolical of the height to which the philosophy and -poetry and religion of her inhabitants may one day soar. At length, -perchance, the immaterial heaven will appear as much higher to the -American mind, and the intimations that star it as much brighter. For -I believe that climate does thus react on man,--as there is something -in the mountain air that feeds the spirit and inspires. Will not man -grow to greater perfection intellectually as well as physically under -these influences? Or is it unimportant how many foggy days there are -in his life? I trust that we shall be more imaginative, that our -thoughts will be clearer, fresher, and more ethereal, as our -sky,--our understanding more comprehensive and broader, like our -plains,--our intellect generally on a grander scale, like our thunder -and lightning, our rivers and mountains and forests,--and our hearts -shall even correspond in breadth and depth and grandeur to our inland -seas. Perchance there will appear to the traveler something, he knows -not what, of _laeta_ and _glabra_, of joyous and serene, in our very -faces. Else to what end does the world go on, and why was America -discovered? - -To Americans I hardly need to say,-- - - "Westward the star of empire takes its way." - -As a true patriot, I should be ashamed to think that Adam in paradise -was more favorably situated on the whole than the backwoodsman in this -country. - -Our sympathies in Massachusetts are not confined to New England; -though we may be estranged from the South, we sympathize with the -West. There is the home of the younger sons, as among the -Scandinavians they took to the sea for their inheritance. It is too -late to be studying Hebrew; it is more important to understand even -the slang of to-day. - -Some months ago I went to see a panorama of the Rhine. It was like a -dream of the Middle Ages. I floated down its historic stream in -something more than imagination, under bridges built by the Romans, -and repaired by later heroes, past cities and castles whose very names -were music to my ears, and each of which was the subject of a legend. -There were Ehrenbreitstein and Rolandseck and Coblentz, which I knew -only in history. They were ruins that interested me chiefly. There -seemed to come up from its waters and its vine-clad hills and valleys -a hushed music as of Crusaders departing for the Holy Land. I floated -along under the spell of enchantment, as if I had been transported to -an heroic age, and breathed an atmosphere of chivalry. - -Soon after, I went to see a panorama of the Mississippi, and as I -worked my way up the river in the light of to-day, and saw the -steamboats wooding up, counted the rising cities, gazed on the fresh -ruins of Nauvoo, beheld the Indians moving west across the stream, -and, as before I had looked up the Moselle, now looked up the Ohio and -the Missouri and heard the legends of Dubuque and of Wenona's -Cliff,--still thinking more of the future than of the past or -present,--I saw that this was a Rhine stream of a different kind; that -the foundations of castles were yet to be laid, and the famous bridges -were yet to be thrown over the river; and I felt that _this was the -heroic age itself_, though we know it not, for the hero is commonly -the simplest and obscurest of men. - - * * * * * - -The West of which I speak is but another name for the Wild; and what I -have been preparing to say is, that in Wildness is the preservation of -the World. Every tree sends its fibres forth in search of the Wild. -The cities import it at any price. Men plow and sail for it. From the -forest and wilderness come the tonics and barks which brace mankind. -Our ancestors were savages. The story of Romulus and Remus being -suckled by a wolf is not a meaningless fable. The founders of every -state which has risen to eminence have drawn their nourishment and -vigor from a similar wild source. It was because the children of the -Empire were not suckled by the wolf that they were conquered and -displaced by the children of the northern forests who were. - -I believe in the forest, and in the meadow, and in the night in which -the corn grows. We require an infusion of hemlock spruce or arbor-vitæ -in our tea. There is a difference between eating and drinking for -strength and from mere gluttony. The Hottentots eagerly devour the -marrow of the koodoo and other antelopes raw, as a matter of course. -Some of our northern Indians eat raw the marrow of the Arctic -reindeer, as well as various other parts, including the summits of the -antlers, as long as they are soft. And herein, perchance, they have -stolen a march on the cooks of Paris. They get what usually goes to -feed the fire. This is probably better than stall-fed beef and -slaughter-house pork to make a man of. Give me a wildness whose glance -no civilization can endure,--as if we lived on the marrow of koodoos -devoured raw. - -There are some intervals which border the strain of the wood thrush, -to which I would migrate,--wild lands where no settler has squatted; -to which, methinks, I am already acclimated. - -The African hunter Cumming tells us that the skin of the eland, as -well as that of most other antelopes just killed, emits the most -delicious perfume of trees and grass. I would have every man so much -like a wild antelope, so much a part and parcel of nature, that his -very person should thus sweetly advertise our senses of his presence, -and remind us of those parts of nature which he most haunts. I feel -no disposition to be satirical, when the trapper's coat emits the odor -of musquash even; it is a sweeter scent to me than that which commonly -exhales from the merchant's or the scholar's garments. When I go into -their wardrobes and handle their vestments, I am reminded of no grassy -plains and flowery meads which they have frequented, but of dusty -merchants' exchanges and libraries rather. - -A tanned skin is something more than respectable, and perhaps olive is -a fitter color than white for a man,--a denizen of the woods. "The -pale white man!" I do not wonder that the African pitied him. Darwin -the naturalist says, "A white man bathing by the side of a Tahitian -was like a plant bleached by the gardener's art, compared with a fine, -dark green one, growing vigorously in the open fields." - -Ben Jonson exclaims,-- - - "How near to good is what is fair!" - -So I would say,-- - - How near to good is what is _wild_! - -Life consists with wildness. The most alive is the wildest. Not yet -subdued to man, its presence refreshes him. One who pressed forward -incessantly and never rested from his labors, who grew fast and made -infinite demands on life, would always find himself in a new country -or wilderness, and surrounded by the raw material of life. He would be -climbing over the prostrate stems of primitive forest-trees. - -Hope and the future for me are not in lawns and cultivated fields, not -in towns and cities, but in the impervious and quaking swamps. When, -formerly, I have analyzed my partiality for some farm which I had -contemplated purchasing, I have frequently found that I was attracted -solely by a few square rods of impermeable and unfathomable bog,--a -natural sink in one corner of it. That was the jewel which dazzled me. -I derive more of my subsistence from the swamps which surround my -native town than from the cultivated gardens in the village. There are -no richer parterres to my eyes than the dense beds of dwarf andromeda -(_Cassandra calyculata_) which cover these tender places on the -earth's surface. Botany cannot go farther than tell me the names of -the shrubs which grow there,--the high blueberry, panicled andromeda, -lambkill, azalea, and rhodora,--all standing in the quaking sphagnum. -I often think that I should like to have my house front on this mass -of dull red bushes, omitting other flower plots and borders, -transplanted spruce and trim box, even graveled walks,--to have this -fertile spot under my windows, not a few imported barrowfuls of soil -only to cover the sand which was thrown out in digging the cellar. Why -not put my house, my parlor, behind this plot, instead of behind that -meagre assemblage of curiosities, that poor apology for a Nature and -Art, which I call my front yard? It is an effort to clear up and make -a decent appearance when the carpenter and mason have departed, though -done as much for the passer-by as the dweller within. The most -tasteful front-yard fence was never an agreeable object of study to -me; the most elaborate ornaments, acorn tops, or what not, soon -wearied and disgusted me. Bring your sills up to the very edge of the -swamp, then (though it may not be the best place for a dry cellar), so -that there be no access on that side to citizens. Front yards are not -made to walk in, but, at most, through, and you could go in the back -way. - -Yes, though you may think me perverse, if it were proposed to me to -dwell in the neighborhood of the most beautiful garden that ever human -art contrived, or else of a Dismal Swamp, I should certainly decide -for the swamp. How vain, then, have been all your labors, citizens, -for me! - -My spirits infallibly rise in proportion to the outward dreariness. -Give me the ocean, the desert, or the wilderness! In the desert, pure -air and solitude compensate for want of moisture and fertility. The -traveler Burton says of it: "Your _morale_ improves; you become frank -and cordial, hospitable and single-minded.... In the desert, -spirituous liquors excite only disgust. There is a keen enjoyment in a -mere animal existence." They who have been traveling long on the -steppes of Tartary say, "On reëntering cultivated lands, the -agitation, perplexity, and turmoil of civilization oppressed and -suffocated us; the air seemed to fail us, and we felt every moment as -if about to die of asphyxia." When I would recreate myself, I seek the -darkest wood, the thickest and most interminable and, to the citizen, -most dismal, swamp. I enter a swamp as a sacred place, a _sanctum -sanctorum_. There is the strength, the marrow, of Nature. The wildwood -covers the virgin mould, and the same soil is good for men and for -trees. A man's health requires as many acres of meadow to his prospect -as his farm does loads of muck. There are the strong meats on which -he feeds. A town is saved, not more by the righteous men in it than by -the woods and swamps that surround it. A township where one primitive -forest waves above while another primitive forest rots below,--such a -town is fitted to raise not only corn and potatoes, but poets and -philosophers for the coming ages. In such a soil grew Homer and -Confucius and the rest, and out of such a wilderness comes the -Reformer eating locusts and wild honey. - -To preserve wild animals implies generally the creation of a forest -for them to dwell in or resort to. So it is with man. A hundred years -ago they sold bark in our streets peeled from our own woods. In the -very aspect of those primitive and rugged trees there was, methinks, a -tanning principle which hardened and consolidated the fibres of men's -thoughts. Ah! already I shudder for these comparatively degenerate -days of my native village, when you cannot collect a load of bark of -good thickness, and we no longer produce tar and turpentine. - -The civilized nations--Greece, Rome, England--have been sustained by -the primitive forests which anciently rotted where they stand. They -survive as long as the soil is not exhausted. Alas for human culture! -little is to be expected of a nation, when the vegetable mould is -exhausted, and it is compelled to make manure of the bones of its -fathers. There the poet sustains himself merely by his own superfluous -fat, and the philosopher comes down on his marrow-bones. - -It is said to be the task of the American "to work the virgin soil," -and that "agriculture here already assumes proportions unknown -everywhere else." I think that the farmer displaces the Indian even -because he redeems the meadow, and so makes himself stronger and in -some respects more natural. I was surveying for a man the other day a -single straight line one hundred and thirty-two rods long, through a -swamp at whose entrance might have been written the words which Dante -read over the entrance to the infernal regions, "Leave all hope, ye -that enter,"--that is, of ever getting out again; where at one time I -saw my employer actually up to his neck and swimming for his life in -his property, though it was still winter. He had another similar swamp -which I could not survey at all, because it was completely under -water, and nevertheless, with regard to a third swamp, which I did -_survey_ from a distance, he remarked to me, true to his instincts, -that he would not part with it for any consideration, on account of -the mud which it contained. And that man intends to put a girdling -ditch round the whole in the course of forty months, and so redeem it -by the magic of his spade. I refer to him only as the type of a class. - -The weapons with which we have gained our most important victories, -which should be handed down as heirlooms from father to son, are not -the sword and the lance, but the bushwhack, the turf-cutter, the -spade, and the bog hoe, rusted with the blood of many a meadow, and -begrimed with the dust of many a hard-fought field. The very winds -blew the Indian's corn-field into the meadow, and pointed out the way -which he had not the skill to follow. He had no better implement with -which to intrench himself in the land than a clamshell. But the farmer -is armed with plow and spade. - -In literature it is only the wild that attracts us. Dullness is but -another name for tameness. It is the uncivilized free and wild -thinking in Hamlet and the Iliad, in all the scriptures and -mythologies, not learned in the schools, that delights us. As the wild -duck is more swift and beautiful than the tame, so is the wild--the -mallard--thought, which 'mid falling dews wings its way above the -fens. A truly good book is something as natural, and as unexpectedly -and unaccountably fair and perfect, as a wild-flower discovered on the -prairies of the West or in the jungles of the East. Genius is a light -which makes the darkness visible, like the lightning's flash, which -perchance shatters the temple of knowledge itself,--and not a taper -lighted at the hearth-stone of the race, which pales before the light -of common day. - -English literature, from the days of the minstrels to the Lake -Poets,--Chaucer and Spenser and Milton, and even Shakespeare, -included,--breathes no quite fresh and, in this sense, wild strain. It -is an essentially tame and civilized literature, reflecting Greece and -Rome. Her wilderness is a greenwood, her wild man a Robin Hood. There -is plenty of genial love of Nature, but not so much of Nature herself. -Her chronicles inform us when her wild animals, but not when the wild -man in her, became extinct. - -The science of Humboldt is one thing, poetry is another thing. The -poet to-day, notwithstanding all the discoveries of science, and the -accumulated learning of mankind, enjoys no advantage over Homer. - -Where is the literature which gives expression to Nature? He would be -a poet who could impress the winds and streams into his service, to -speak for him; who nailed words to their primitive senses, as farmers -drive down stakes in the spring, which the frost has heaved; who -derived his words as often as he used them,--transplanted them to his -page with earth adhering to their roots; whose words were so true and -fresh and natural that they would appear to expand like the buds at -the approach of spring, though they lay half smothered between two -musty leaves in a library,--aye, to bloom and bear fruit there, after -their kind, annually, for the faithful reader, in sympathy with -surrounding Nature. - -I do not know of any poetry to quote which adequately expresses this -yearning for the Wild. Approached from this side, the best poetry is -tame. I do not know where to find in any literature, ancient or -modern, any account which contents me of that Nature with which even I -am acquainted. You will perceive that I demand something which no -Augustan nor Elizabethan age, which no _culture_, in short, can give. -Mythology comes nearer to it than anything. How much more fertile a -Nature, at least, has Grecian mythology its root in than English -literature! Mythology is the crop which the Old World bore before its -soil was exhausted, before the fancy and imagination were affected -with blight; and which it still bears, wherever its pristine vigor is -unabated. All other literatures endure only as the elms which -overshadow our houses; but this is like the great dragon-tree of the -Western Isles, as old as mankind, and, whether that does or not, will -endure as long; for the decay of other literatures makes the soil in -which it thrives. - -The West is preparing to add its fables to those of the East. The -valleys of the Ganges, the Nile, and the Rhine having yielded their -crop, it remains to be seen what the valleys of the Amazon, the Plate, -the Orinoco, the St. Lawrence, and the Mississippi will produce. -Perchance, when, in the course of ages, American liberty has become a -fiction of the past,--as it is to some extent a fiction of the -present,--the poets of the world will be inspired by American -mythology. - -The wildest dreams of wild men, even, are not the less true, though -they may not recommend themselves to the sense which is most common -among Englishmen and Americans to-day. It is not every truth that -recommends itself to the common sense. Nature has a place for the wild -clematis as well as for the cabbage. Some expressions of truth are -reminiscent,--others merely _sensible_, as the phrase is,--others -prophetic. Some forms of disease, even, may prophesy forms of health. -The geologist has discovered that the figures of serpents, griffins, -flying dragons, and other fanciful embellishments of heraldry, have -their prototypes in the forms of fossil species which were extinct -before man was created, and hence "indicate a faint and shadowy -knowledge of a previous state of organic existence." The Hindoos -dreamed that the earth rested on an elephant, and the elephant on a -tortoise, and the tortoise on a serpent; and though it may be an -unimportant coincidence, it will not be out of place here to state, -that a fossil tortoise has lately been discovered in Asia large enough -to support an elephant. I confess that I am partial to these wild -fancies, which transcend the order of time and development. They are -the sublimest recreation of the intellect. The partridge loves peas, -but not those that go with her into the pot. - -In short, all good things are wild and free. There is something in a -strain of music, whether produced by an instrument or by the human -voice,--take the sound of a bugle in a summer night, for -instance,--which by its wildness, to speak without satire, reminds me -of the cries emitted by wild beasts in their native forests. It is so -much of their wildness as I can understand. Give me for my friends and -neighbors wild men, not tame ones. The wildness of the savage is but a -faint symbol of the awful ferity with which good men and lovers meet. - -I love even to see the domestic animals reassert their native -rights,--any evidence that they have not wholly lost their original -wild habits and vigor; as when my neighbor's cow breaks out of her -pasture early in the spring and boldly swims the river, a cold, gray -tide, twenty-five or thirty rods wide, swollen by the melted snow. It -is the buffalo crossing the Mississippi. This exploit confers some -dignity on the herd in my eyes,--already dignified. The seeds of -instinct are preserved under the thick hides of cattle and horses, -like seeds in the bowels of the earth, an indefinite period. - -Any sportiveness in cattle is unexpected. I saw one day a herd of a -dozen bullocks and cows running about and frisking in unwieldy sport, -like huge rats, even like kittens. They shook their heads, raised -their tails, and rushed up and down a hill, and I perceived by their -horns, as well as by their activity, their relation to the deer tribe. -But, alas! a sudden loud _Whoa!_ would have damped their ardor at -once, reduced them from venison to beef, and stiffened their sides and -sinews like the locomotive. Who but the Evil One has cried "Whoa!" to -mankind? Indeed, the life of cattle, like that of many men, is but a -sort of locomotiveness; they move a side at a time, and man, by his -machinery, is meeting the horse and the ox half-way. Whatever part the -whip has touched is thenceforth palsied. Who would ever think of a -_side_ of any of the supple cat tribe, as we speak of a _side_ of -beef? - -I rejoice that horses and steers have to be broken before they can be -made the slaves of men, and that men themselves have some wild oats -still left to sow before they become submissive members of society. -Undoubtedly, all men are not equally fit subjects for civilization; -and because the majority, like dogs and sheep, are tame by inherited -disposition, this is no reason why the others should have their -natures broken that they may be reduced to the same level. Men are in -the main alike, but they were made several in order that they might be -various. If a low use is to be served, one man will do nearly or quite -as well as another; if a high one, individual excellence is to be -regarded. Any man can stop a hole to keep the wind away, but no other -man could serve so rare a use as the author of this illustration did. -Confucius says, "The skins of the tiger and the leopard, when they are -tanned, are as the skins of the dog and the sheep tanned." But it is -not the part of a true culture to tame tigers, any more than it is to -make sheep ferocious; and tanning their skins for shoes is not the -best use to which they can be put. - - * * * * * - -When looking over a list of men's names in a foreign language, as of -military officers, or of authors who have written on a particular -subject, I am reminded once more that there is nothing in a name. The -name Menschikoff, for instance, has nothing in it to my ears more -human than a whisker, and it may belong to a rat. As the names of the -Poles and Russians are to us, so are ours to them. It is as if they -had been named by the child's rigmarole, _Iery wiery ichery van, -tittle-tol-tan_. I see in my mind a herd of wild creatures swarming -over the earth, and to each the herdsman has affixed some barbarous -sound in his own dialect. The names of men are, of course, as cheap -and meaningless as _Bose_ and _Tray_, the names of dogs. - -Methinks it would be some advantage to philosophy if men were named -merely in the gross, as they are known. It would be necessary only to -know the genus and perhaps the race or variety, to know the -individual. We are not prepared to believe that every private soldier -in a Roman army had a name of his own,--because we have not supposed -that he had a character of his own. - -At present our only true names are nicknames. I knew a boy who, from -his peculiar energy, was called "Buster" by his playmates, and this -rightly supplanted his Christian name. Some travelers tell us that an -Indian had no name given him at first, but earned it, and his name was -his fame; and among some tribes he acquired a new name with every new -exploit. It is pitiful when a man bears a name for convenience merely, -who has earned neither name nor fame. - -I will not allow mere names to make distinctions for me, but still see -men in herds for all them. A familiar name cannot make a man less -strange to me. It may be given to a savage who retains in secret his -own wild title earned in the woods. We have a wild savage in us, and a -savage name is perchance somewhere recorded as ours. I see that my -neighbor, who bears the familiar epithet William or Edwin, takes it -off with his jacket. It does not adhere to him when asleep or in -anger, or aroused by any passion or inspiration. I seem to hear -pronounced by some of his kin at such a time his original wild name in -some jaw-breaking or else melodious tongue. - - * * * * * - -Here is this vast, savage, howling mother of ours, Nature, lying all -around, with such beauty, and such affection for her children, as the -leopard; and yet we are so early weaned from her breast to society, to -that culture which is exclusively an interaction of man on man,--a -sort of breeding in and in, which produces at most a merely English -nobility, a civilization destined to have a speedy limit. - -In society, in the best institutions of men, it is easy to detect a -certain precocity. When we should still be growing children, we are -already little men. Give me a culture which imports much muck from -the meadows, and deepens the soil,--not that which trusts to heating -manures, and improved implements and modes of culture only! - -Many a poor sore-eyed student that I have heard of would grow faster, -both intellectually and physically, if, instead of sitting up so very -late, he honestly slumbered a fool's allowance. - -There may be an excess even of informing light. Niepce, a Frenchman, -discovered "actinism," that power in the sun's rays which produces a -chemical effect; that granite rocks, and stone structures, and statues -of metal "are all alike destructively acted upon during the hours of -sunshine, and, but for provisions of Nature no less wonderful, would -soon perish under the delicate touch of the most subtile of the -agencies of the universe." But he observed that "those bodies which -underwent this change during the daylight possessed the power of -restoring themselves to their original conditions during the hours of -night, when this excitement was no longer influencing them." Hence it -has been inferred that "the hours of darkness are as necessary to the -inorganic creation as we know night and sleep are to the organic -kingdom." Not even does the moon shine every night, but gives place to -darkness. - -I would not have every man nor every part of a man cultivated, any -more than I would have every acre of earth cultivated: part will be -tillage, but the greater part will be meadow and forest, not only -serving an immediate use, but preparing a mould against a distant -future, by the annual decay of the vegetation which it supports. - -There are other letters for the child to learn than those which Cadmus -invented. The Spaniards have a good term to express this wild and -dusky knowledge, _Gramática parda_, tawny grammar, a kind of -mother-wit derived from that same leopard to which I have referred. - -We have heard of a Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. It -is said that knowledge is power, and the like. Methinks there is equal -need of a Society for the Diffusion of Useful Ignorance, what we will -call Beautiful Knowledge, a knowledge useful in a higher sense: for -what is most of our boasted so-called knowledge but a conceit that we -know something, which robs us of the advantage of our actual -ignorance? What we call knowledge is often our positive ignorance; -ignorance our negative knowledge. By long years of patient industry -and reading of the newspapers,--for what are the libraries of science -but files of newspapers?--a man accumulates a myriad facts, lays them -up in his memory, and then when in some spring of his life he saunters -abroad into the Great Fields of thought, he, as it were, goes to grass -like a horse and leaves all his harness behind in the stable. I would -say to the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, -sometimes,--Go to grass. You have eaten hay long enough. The spring -has come with its green crop. The very cows are driven to their -country pastures before the end of May; though I have heard of one -unnatural farmer who kept his cow in the barn and fed her on hay all -the year round. So, frequently, the Society for the Diffusion of -Useful Knowledge treats its cattle. - -A man's ignorance sometimes is not only useful, but beautiful,--while -his knowledge, so called, is oftentimes worse than useless, besides -being ugly. Which is the best man to deal with,--he who knows nothing -about a subject, and, what is extremely rare, knows that he knows -nothing, or he who really knows something about it, but thinks that he -knows all? - -My desire for knowledge is intermittent, but my desire to bathe my -head in atmospheres unknown to my feet is perennial and constant. The -highest that we can attain to is not Knowledge, but Sympathy with -Intelligence. I do not know that this higher knowledge amounts to -anything more definite than a novel and grand surprise on a sudden -revelation of the insufficiency of all that we called Knowledge -before,--a discovery that there are more things in heaven and earth -than are dreamed of in our philosophy. It is the lighting up of the -mist by the sun. Man cannot _know_ in any higher sense than this, any -more than he can look serenely and with impunity in the face of the -sun: [Greek: Hôs ti noôn, ou keinon noêseis], "You will not perceive -that, as perceiving a particular thing," say the Chaldean Oracles. - -There is something servile in the habit of seeking after a law which -we may obey. We may study the laws of matter at and for our -convenience, but a successful life knows no law. It is an unfortunate -discovery certainly, that of a law which binds us where we did not -know before that we were bound. Live free, child of the mist,--and -with respect to knowledge we are all children of the mist. The man who -takes the liberty to live is superior to all the laws, by virtue of -his relation to the lawmaker. "That is active duty," says the Vishnu -Purana, "which is not for our bondage; that is knowledge which is for -our liberation: all other duty is good only unto weariness; all other -knowledge is only the cleverness of an artist." - - * * * * * - -It is remarkable how few events or crises there are in our histories, -how little exercised we have been in our minds, how few experiences we -have had. I would fain be assured that I am growing apace and rankly, -though my very growth disturb this dull equanimity,--though it be with -struggle through long, dark, muggy nights or seasons of gloom. It -would be well if all our lives were a divine tragedy even, instead of -this trivial comedy or farce. Dante, Bunyan, and others appear to have -been exercised in their minds more than we: they were subjected to a -kind of culture such as our district schools and colleges do not -contemplate. Even Mahomet, though many may scream at his name, had a -good deal more to live for, aye, and to die for, than they have -commonly. - -When, at rare intervals, some thought visits one, as perchance he is -walking on a railroad, then, indeed, the cars go by without his -hearing them. But soon, by some inexorable law, our life goes by and -the cars return. - - "Gentle breeze, that wanderest unseen, - And bendest the thistles round Loira of storms, - Traveler of the windy glens, - Why hast thou left my ear so soon?" - -While almost all men feel an attraction drawing them to society, few -are attracted strongly to Nature. In their reaction to Nature men -appear to me for the most part, notwithstanding their arts, lower than -the animals. It is not often a beautiful relation, as in the case of -the animals. How little appreciation of the beauty of the landscape -there is among us! We have to be told that the Greeks called the world -[Greek: Kosmos], Beauty, or Order, but we do not see clearly why they -did so, and we esteem it at best only a curious philological fact. - -For my part, I feel that with regard to Nature I live a sort of border -life, on the confines of a world into which I make occasional and -transient forays only, and my patriotism and allegiance to the state -into whose territories I seem to retreat are those of a moss-trooper. -Unto a life which I call natural I would gladly follow even a -will-o'-the-wisp through bogs and sloughs unimaginable, but no moon -nor firefly has shown me the causeway to it. Nature is a personality -so vast and universal that we have never seen one of her features. The -walker in the familiar fields which stretch around my native town -sometimes finds himself in another land than is described in their -owners' deeds, as it were in some faraway field on the confines of the -actual Concord, where her jurisdiction ceases, and the idea which the -word Concord suggests ceases to be suggested. These farms which I have -myself surveyed, these bounds which I have set up, appear dimly still -as through a mist; but they have no chemistry to fix them; they fade -from the surface of the glass, and the picture which the painter -painted stands out dimly from beneath. The world with which we are -commonly acquainted leaves no trace, and it will have no anniversary. - - * * * * * - -I took a walk on Spaulding's Farm the other afternoon. I saw the -setting sun lighting up the opposite side of a stately pine wood. Its -golden rays straggled into the aisles of the wood as into some noble -hall. I was impressed as if some ancient and altogether admirable and -shining family had settled there in that part of the land called -Concord, unknown to me,--to whom the sun was servant,--who had not -gone into society in the village,--who had not been called on. I saw -their park, their pleasure-ground, beyond through the wood, in -Spaulding's cranberry-meadow. The pines furnished them with gables as -they grew. Their house was not obvious to vision; the trees grew -through it. I do not know whether I heard the sounds of a suppressed -hilarity or not. They seemed to recline on the sunbeams. They have -sons and daughters. They are quite well. The farmer's cart-path, which -leads directly through their hall, does not in the least put them out, -as the muddy bottom of a pool is sometimes seen through the reflected -skies. They never heard of Spaulding, and do not know that he is their -neighbor,--notwithstanding I heard him whistle as he drove his team -through the house. Nothing can equal the serenity of their lives. -Their coat-of-arms is simply a lichen. I saw it painted on the pines -and oaks. Their attics were in the tops of the trees. They are of no -politics. There was no noise of labor. I did not perceive that they -were weaving or spinning. Yet I did detect, when the wind lulled and -hearing was done away, the finest imaginable sweet musical hum,--as of -a distant hive in May,--which perchance was the sound of their -thinking. They had no idle thoughts, and no one without could see -their work, for their industry was not as in knots and excrescences -embayed. - -But I find it difficult to remember them. They fade irrevocably out of -my mind even now while I speak, and endeavor to recall them and -recollect myself. It is only after a long and serious effort to -recollect my best thoughts that I become again aware of their -cohabitancy. If it were not for such families as this, I think I -should move out of Concord. - - * * * * * - -We are accustomed to say in New England that few and fewer pigeons -visit us every year. Our forests furnish no mast for them. So, it -would seem, few and fewer thoughts visit each growing man from year to -year, for the grove in our minds is laid waste,--sold to feed -unnecessary fires of ambition, or sent to mill,--and there is scarcely -a twig left for them to perch on. They no longer build nor breed with -us. In some more genial season, perchance, a faint shadow flits across -the landscape of the mind, cast by the _wings_ of some thought in its -vernal or autumnal migration, but, looking up, we are unable to detect -the substance of the thought itself. Our winged thoughts are turned to -poultry. They no longer soar, and they attain only to a Shanghai and -Cochin-China grandeur. Those _gra-a-ate thoughts_, those _gra-a-ate -men_ you hear of! - - * * * * * - -We hug the earth,--how rarely we mount! Methinks we might elevate -ourselves a little more. We might climb a tree, at least. I found my -account in climbing a tree once. It was a tall white pine, on the top -of a hill; and though I got well pitched, I was well paid for it, for -I discovered new mountains in the horizon which I had never seen -before,--so much more of the earth and the heavens. I might have -walked about the foot of the tree for threescore years and ten, and -yet I certainly should never have seen them. But, above all, I -discovered around me,--it was near the end of June,--on the ends of -the topmost branches only, a few minute and delicate red cone-like -blossoms, the fertile flower of the white pine looking heavenward. I -carried straightway to the village the topmost spire, and showed it to -stranger jurymen who walked the streets,--for it was court week,--and -to farmers and lumber-dealers and woodchoppers and hunters, and not -one had ever seen the like before, but they wondered as at a star -dropped down. Tell of ancient architects finishing their works on the -tops of columns as perfectly as on the lower and more visible parts! -Nature has from the first expanded the minute blossoms of the forest -only toward the heavens, above men's heads and unobserved by them. We -see only the flowers that are under our feet in the meadows. The pines -have developed their delicate blossoms on the highest twigs of the -wood every summer for ages, as well over the heads of Nature's red -children as of her white ones; yet scarcely a farmer or hunter in the -land has ever seen them. - - * * * * * - -Above all, we cannot afford not to live in the present. He is blessed -over all mortals who loses no moment of the passing life in -remembering the past. Unless our philosophy hears the cock crow in -every barn-yard within our horizon, it is belated. That sound commonly -reminds us that we are growing rusty and antique in our employments -and habits of thought. His philosophy comes down to a more recent time -than ours. There is something suggested by it that is a newer -testament,--the gospel according to this moment. He has not fallen -astern; he has got up early and kept up early, and to be where he is -is to be in season, in the foremost rank of time. It is an expression -of the health and soundness of Nature, a brag for all the -world,--healthiness as of a spring burst forth, a new fountain of the -Muses, to celebrate this last instant of time. Where he lives no -fugitive slave laws are passed. Who has not betrayed his master many -times since last he heard that note? - -The merit of this bird's strain is in its freedom from all -plaintiveness. The singer can easily move us to tears or to laughter, -but where is he who can excite in us a pure morning joy? When, in -doleful dumps, breaking the awful stillness of our wooden sidewalk on -a Sunday, or, perchance, a watcher in the house of mourning, I hear a -cockerel crow far or near, I think to myself, "There is one of us -well, at any rate,"--and with a sudden gush return to my senses. - - * * * * * - -We had a remarkable sunset one day last November. I was walking in a -meadow, the source of a small brook, when the sun at last, just before -setting, after a cold, gray day, reached a clear stratum in the -horizon, and the softest, brightest morning sunlight fell on the dry -grass and on the stems of the trees in the opposite horizon and on the -leaves of the shrub oaks on the hillside, while our shadows stretched -long over the meadow eastward, as if we were the only motes in its -beams. It was such a light as we could not have imagined a moment -before, and the air also was so warm and serene that nothing was -wanting to make a paradise of that meadow. When we reflected that this -was not a solitary phenomenon, never to happen again, but that it -would happen forever and ever, an infinite number of evenings, and -cheer and reassure the latest child that walked there, it was more -glorious still. - -The sun sets on some retired meadow, where no house is visible, with -all the glory and splendor that it lavishes on cities, and perchance -as it has never set before,--where there is but a solitary marsh hawk -to have his wings gilded by it, or only a musquash looks out from his -cabin, and there is some little black-veined brook in the midst of the -marsh, just beginning to meander, winding slowly round a decaying -stump. We walked in so pure and bright a light, gilding the withered -grass and leaves, so softly and serenely bright, I thought I had never -bathed in such a golden flood, without a ripple or a murmur to it. The -west side of every wood and rising ground gleamed like the boundary of -Elysium, and the sun on our backs seemed like a gentle herdsman -driving us home at evening. - -So we saunter toward the Holy Land, till one day the sun shall shine -more brightly than ever he has done, shall perchance shine into our -minds and hearts, and light up our whole lives with a great awakening -light, as warm and serene and golden as on a bankside in autumn. - - - - -AUTUMNAL TINTS - - -Europeans coming to America are surprised by the brilliancy of our -autumnal foliage. There is no account of such a phenomenon in English -poetry, because the trees acquire but few bright colors there. The -most that Thomson says on this subject in his "Autumn" is contained in -the lines,-- - - "But see the fading many-colored woods - Shade deepening over shade, the country round - Imbrown; a crowded umbrage, dusk and dun, - Of every hue, from wan declining green - To sooty dark;" - -and in the line in which he speaks of - - "Autumn beaming o'er the yellow woods." - -The autumnal change of our woods has not made a deep impression on our -own literature yet. October has hardly tinged our poetry. - -A great many, who have spent their lives in cities, and have never -chanced to come into the country at this season, have never seen this, -the flower, or rather the ripe fruit, of the year. I remember riding -with one such citizen, who, though a fortnight too late for the most -brilliant tints, was taken by surprise, and would not believe that -there had been any brighter. He had never heard of this phenomenon -before. Not only many in our towns have never witnessed it, but it is -scarcely remembered by the majority from year to year. - -Most appear to confound changed leaves with withered ones, as if they -were to confound ripe apples with rotten ones. I think that the change -to some higher color in a leaf is an evidence that it has arrived at a -late and perfect maturity, answering to the maturity of fruits. It is -generally the lowest and oldest leaves which change first. But as the -perfect-winged and usually bright-colored insect is short-lived, so -the leaves ripen but to fall. - -Generally, every fruit, on ripening, and just before it falls, when it -commences a more independent and individual existence, requiring less -nourishment from any source, and that not so much from the earth -through its stem as from the sun and air, acquires a bright tint. So -do leaves. The physiologist says it is "due to an increased absorption -of oxygen." That is the scientific account of the matter,--only a -reassertion of the fact. But I am more interested in the rosy cheek -than I am to know what particular diet the maiden fed on. The very -forest and herbage, the pellicle of the earth, must acquire a bright -color, an evidence of its ripeness,--as if the globe itself were a -fruit on its stem, with ever a cheek toward the sun. - -Flowers are but colored leaves, fruits but ripe ones. The edible part -of most fruits is, as the physiologist says, "the parenchyma or fleshy -tissue of the leaf," of which they are formed. - -Our appetites have commonly confined our views of ripeness and its -phenomena, color, mellowness, and perfectness, to the fruits which we -eat, and we are wont to forget that an immense harvest which we do not -eat, hardly use at all, is annually ripened by Nature. At our annual -cattle-shows and horticultural exhibitions, we make, as we think, a -great show of fair fruits, destined, however, to a rather ignoble end, -fruits not valued for their beauty chiefly. But round about and within -our towns there is annually another show of fruits, on an infinitely -grander scale, fruits which address our taste for beauty alone. - -October is the month for painted leaves. Their rich glow now flashes -round the world. As fruits and leaves and the day itself acquire a -bright tint just before they fall, so the year near its setting. -October is its sunset sky; November the later twilight. - -I formerly thought that it would be worth the while to get a specimen -leaf from each changing tree, shrub, and herbaceous plant, when it had -acquired its brightest characteristic color, in its transition from -the green to the brown state, outline it, and copy its color exactly, -with paint, in a book, which should be entitled "October, or Autumnal -Tints,"--beginning with the earliest reddening woodbine and the lake -of radical leaves, and coming down through the maples, hickories, and -sumachs, and many beautifully freckled leaves less generally known, to -the latest oaks and aspens. What a memento such a book would be! You -would need only to turn over its leaves to take a ramble through the -autumn woods whenever you pleased. Or if I could preserve the leaves -themselves, unfaded, it would be better still. I have made but little -progress toward such a book, but I have endeavored, instead, to -describe all these bright tints in the order in which they present -themselves. The following are some extracts from my notes. - - -THE PURPLE GRASSES - -By the twentieth of August, everywhere in woods and swamps we are -reminded of the fall, both by the richly spotted sarsaparilla leaves -and brakes, and the withering and blackened skunk-cabbage and -hellebore, and, by the riverside, the already blackening pontederia. - -The purple grass (_Eragrostis pectinacea_) is now in the height of its -beauty. I remember still when I first noticed this grass particularly. -Standing on a hillside near our river, I saw, thirty or forty rods -off, a stripe of purple half a dozen rods long, under the edge of a -wood, where the ground sloped toward a meadow. It was as high-colored -and interesting, though not quite so bright, as the patches of rhexia, -being a darker purple, like a berry's stain laid on close and thick. -On going to and examining it, I found it to be a kind of grass in -bloom, hardly a foot high, with but few green blades, and a fine -spreading panicle of purple flowers, a shallow, purplish mist -trembling around me. Close at hand it appeared but a dull purple, and -made little impression on the eye; it was even difficult to detect; -and if you plucked a single plant, you were surprised to find how thin -it was, and how little color it had. But viewed at a distance in a -favorable light, it was of a fine lively purple, flower-like, -enriching the earth. Such puny causes combine to produce these decided -effects. I was the more surprised and charmed because grass is -commonly of a sober and humble color. - -With its beautiful purple blush it reminds me, and supplies the -place, of the rhexia, which is now leaving off, and it is one of the -most interesting phenomena of August. The finest patches of it grow on -waste strips or selvages of land at the base of dry hills, just above -the edge of the meadows, where the greedy mower does not deign to -swing his scythe; for this is a thin and poor grass, beneath his -notice. Or, it may be, because it is so beautiful he does not know -that it exists; for the same eye does not see this and timothy. He -carefully gets the meadow-hay and the more nutritious grasses which -grow next to that, but he leaves this fine purple mist for the -walker's harvest,--fodder for his fancy stock. Higher up the hill, -perchance, grow also blackberries, John's-wort, and neglected, -withered, and wiry June-grass. How fortunate that it grows in such -places, and not in the midst of the rank grasses which are annually -cut! Nature thus keeps use and beauty distinct. I know many such -localities, where it does not fail to present itself annually, and -paint the earth with its blush. It grows on the gentle slopes, either -in a continuous patch or in scattered and rounded tufts a foot in -diameter, and it lasts till it is killed by the first smart frosts. - -In most plants the corolla or calyx is the part which attains the -highest color, and is the most attractive; in many it is the -seed-vessel or fruit; in others, as the red maple, the leaves; and in -others still it is the very culm itself which is the principal flower -or blooming part. - -The last is especially the case with the poke or garget (_Phytolacca -decandra_). Some which stand under our cliffs quite dazzle me with -their purple stems now and early in September. They are as interesting -to me as most flowers, and one of the most important fruits of our -autumn. Every part is flower (or fruit), such is its superfluity of -color,--stem, branch, peduncle, pedicel, petiole, and even the at -length yellowish, purple-veined leaves. Its cylindrical racemes of -berries of various hues, from green to dark purple, six or seven -inches long, are gracefully drooping on all sides, offering repasts to -the birds; and even the sepals from which the birds have picked the -berries are a brilliant lake red, with crimson flame-like reflections, -equal to anything of the kind,--all on fire with ripeness. Hence the -_lacca_, from _lac_, lake. There are at the same time flower-buds, -flowers, green berries, dark-purple or ripe ones, and these -flower-like sepals, all on the same plant. - -We love to see any redness in the vegetation of the temperate zone. It -is the color of colors. This plant speaks to our blood. It asks a -bright sun on it to make it show to best advantage, and it must be -seen at this season of the year. On warm hillsides its stems are ripe -by the twenty-third of August. At that date I walked through a -beautiful grove of them, six or seven feet high, on the side of one of -our cliffs, where they ripen early. Quite to the ground they were a -deep, brilliant purple, with a bloom contrasting with the still clear -green leaves. It appears a rare triumph of Nature to have produced and -perfected such a plant, as if this were enough for a summer. What a -perfect maturity it arrives at! It is the emblem of a successful life -concluded by a death not premature, which is an ornament to Nature. -What if we were to mature as perfectly, root and branch, glowing in -the midst of our decay, like the poke! I confess that it excites me to -behold them. I cut one for a cane, for I would fain handle and lean on -it. I love to press the berries between my fingers, and see their -juice staining my hand. To walk amid these upright, branching casks of -purple wine, which retain and diffuse a sunset glow, tasting each one -with your eye, instead of counting the pipes on a London dock, what a -privilege! For Nature's vintage is not confined to the vine. Our poets -have sung of wine, the product of a foreign plant which commonly they -never saw, as if our own plants had no juice in them more than the -singers. Indeed, this has been called by some the American grape, and, -though a native of America, its juices are used in some foreign -countries to improve the color of the wine; so that the poetaster may -be celebrating the virtues of the poke without knowing it. Here are -berries enough to paint afresh the western sky, and play the bacchanal -with, if you will. And what flutes its ensanguined stems would make, -to be used in such a dance! It is truly a royal plant. I could spend -the evening of the year musing amid the poke stems. And perchance amid -these groves might arise at last a new school of philosophy or poetry. -It lasts all through September. - -At the same time with this, or near the end of August, a to me very -interesting genus of grasses, andropogons, or beard-grasses, is in its -prime: _Andropogon furcatus_, forked beard-grass, or call it -purple-fingered grass; _Andropogon scoparius_, purple wood-grass; and -_Andropogon_ (now called _Sorghum_) _nutans_, Indian-grass. The first -is a very tall and slender-culmed grass, three to seven feet high, -with four or five purple finger-like spikes raying upward from the -top. The second is also quite slender, growing in tufts two feet high -by one wide, with culms often somewhat curving, which, as the spikes -go out of bloom, have a whitish, fuzzy look. These two are prevailing -grasses at this season on dry and sandy fields and hillsides. The -culms of both, not to mention their pretty flowers, reflect a purple -tinge, and help to declare the ripeness of the year. Perhaps I have -the more sympathy with them because they are despised by the farmer, -and occupy sterile and neglected soil. They are high-colored, like -ripe grapes, and express a maturity which the spring did not suggest. -Only the August sun could have thus burnished these culms and leaves. -The farmer has long since done his upland haying, and he will not -condescend to bring his scythe to where these slender wild grasses -have at length flowered thinly; you often see spaces of bare sand amid -them. But I walk encouraged between the tufts of purple wood-grass -over the sandy fields, and along the edge of the shrub oaks, glad to -recognize these simple contemporaries. With thoughts cutting a broad -swathe I "get" them, with horse-raking thoughts I gather them into -windrows. The fine-eared poet may hear the whetting of my scythe. -These two were almost the first grasses that I learned to distinguish, -for I had not known by how many friends I was surrounded; I had seen -them simply as grasses standing. The purple of their culms also -excites me like that of the poke-weed stems. - -Think what refuge there is for one, before August is over, from -college commencements and society that isolates! I can skulk amid the -tufts of purple wood-grass on the borders of the "Great Fields." -Wherever I walk these afternoons, the purple-fingered grass also -stands like a guide-board, and points my thoughts to more poetic paths -than they have lately traveled. - -A man shall perhaps rush by and trample down plants as high as his -head, and cannot be said to know that they exist, though he may have -cut many tons of them, littered his stables with them, and fed them to -his cattle for years. Yet, if he ever favorably attends to them, he -may be overcome by their beauty. Each humblest plant, or weed, as we -call it, stands there to express some thought or mood of ours; and yet -how long it stands in vain! I had walked over those Great Fields so -many Augusts, and never yet distinctly recognized these purple -companions that I had there. I had brushed against them and trodden on -them, forsooth; and now, at last, they, as it were, rose up and -blessed me. Beauty and true wealth are always thus cheap and despised. -Heaven might be defined as the place which men avoid. Who can doubt -that these grasses, which the farmer says are of no account to him, -find some compensation in your appreciation of them? I may say that I -never saw them before; though, when I came to look them face to face, -there did come down to me a purple gleam from previous years; and now, -wherever I go, I see hardly anything else. It is the reign and -presidency of the andropogons. - -Almost the very sands confess the ripening influence of the August -sun, and methinks, together with the slender grasses waving over them, -reflect a purple tinge. The impurpled sands! Such is the consequence -of all this sunshine absorbed into the pores of plants and of the -earth. All sap or blood is now wine-colored. At last we have not only -the purple sea, but the purple land. - -The chestnut beard-grass, Indian-grass, or wood-grass, growing here -and there in waste places, but more rare than the former (from two to -four or five feet high), is still handsomer and of more vivid colors -than its congeners, and might well have caught the Indian's eye. It -has a long, narrow, one-sided, and slightly nodding panicle of bright -purple and yellow flowers, like a banner raised above its reedy -leaves. These bright standards are now advanced on the distant -hillsides, not in large armies, but in scattered troops or single -file, like the red men. They stand thus fair and bright, -representative of the race which they are named after, but for the -most part unobserved as they. The expression of this grass haunted me -for a week, after I first passed and noticed it, like the glance of an -eye. It stands like an Indian chief taking a last look at his favorite -hunting-grounds. - - -THE RED MAPLE - -By the twenty-fifth of September, the red maples generally are -beginning to be ripe. Some large ones have been conspicuously changing -for a week, and some single trees are now very brilliant. I notice a -small one, half a mile off across a meadow, against the green woodside -there, a far brighter red than the blossoms of any tree in summer, -and more conspicuous. I have observed this tree for several autumns -invariably changing earlier than its fellows, just as one tree ripens -its fruit earlier than another. It might serve to mark the season, -perhaps. I should be sorry if it were cut down. I know of two or three -such trees in different parts of our town, which might, perhaps, be -propagated from, as early ripeners or September trees, and their seed -be advertised in the market, as well as that of radishes, if we cared -as much about them. - -At present these burning bushes stand chiefly along the edge of the -meadows, or I distinguish them afar on the hillsides here and there. -Sometimes you will see many small ones in a swamp turned quite crimson -when all other trees around are still perfectly green, and the former -appear so much the brighter for it. They take you by surprise, as you -are going by on one side, across the fields, thus early in the season, -as if it were some gay encampment of the red men, or other foresters, -of whose arrival you had not heard. - -Some single trees, wholly bright scarlet, seen against others of their -kind still freshly green, or against evergreens, are more memorable -than whole groves will be by and by. How beautiful, when a whole tree -is like one great scarlet fruit full of ripe juices, every leaf, from -lowest limb to topmost spire, all aglow, especially if you look toward -the sun! What more remarkable object can there be in the landscape? -Visible for miles, too fair to be believed. If such a phenomenon -occurred but once, it would be handed down by tradition to posterity, -and get into the mythology at last. - -The whole tree thus ripening in advance of its fellows attains a -singular preëminence, and sometimes maintains it for a week or two. I -am thrilled at the sight of it, bearing aloft its scarlet standard for -the regiment of green-clad foresters around, and I go half a mile out -of my way to examine it. A single tree becomes thus the crowning -beauty of some meadowy vale, and the expression of the whole -surrounding forest is at once more spirited for it. - -A small red maple has grown, perchance, far away at the head of some -retired valley, a mile from any road, unobserved. It has faithfully -discharged the duties of a maple there, all winter and summer, -neglected none of its economies, but added to its stature in the -virtue which belongs to a maple, by a steady growth for so many -months, never having gone gadding abroad, and is nearer heaven than it -was in the spring. It has faithfully husbanded its sap, and afforded a -shelter to the wandering bird, has long since ripened its seeds and -committed them to the winds, and has the satisfaction of knowing, -perhaps, that a thousand little well-behaved maples are already -settled in life somewhere. It deserves well of Mapledom. Its leaves -have been asking it from time to time, in a whisper, "When shall we -redden?" And now, in this month of September, this month of traveling, -when men are hastening to the seaside, or the mountains, or the lakes, -this modest maple, still without budging an inch, travels in its -reputation,--runs up its scarlet flag on that hillside, which shows -that it has finished its summer's work before all other trees, and -withdraws from the contest. At the eleventh hour of the year, the -tree which no scrutiny could have detected here when it was most -industrious is thus, by the tint of its maturity, by its very blushes, -revealed at last to the careless and distant traveler, and leads his -thoughts away from the dusty road into those brave solitudes which it -inhabits. It flashes out conspicuous with all the virtue and beauty of -a maple,--_Acer rubrum_. We may now read its title, or _rubric_, -clear. Its _virtues_, not its sins, are as scarlet. - -Notwithstanding the red maple is the most intense scarlet of any of -our trees, the sugar maple has been the most celebrated, and Michaux -in his "Sylva" does not speak of the autumnal color of the former. -About the second of October, these trees, both large and small, are -most brilliant, though many are still green. In "sprout-lands" they -seem to vie with one another, and ever some particular one in the -midst of the crowd will be of a peculiarly pure scarlet, and by its -more intense color attract our eye even at a distance, and carry off -the palm. A large red maple swamp, when at the height of its change, -is the most obviously brilliant of all tangible things, where I dwell, -so abundant is this tree with us. It varies much both in form and -color. A great many are merely yellow; more, scarlet; others, scarlet -deepening into crimson, more red than common. Look at yonder swamp of -maples mixed with pines, at the base of a pine-clad hill, a quarter of -a mile off, so that you get the full effect of the bright colors, -without detecting the imperfections of the leaves, and see their -yellow, scarlet, and crimson fires, of all tints, mingled and -contrasted with the green. Some maples are yet green, only yellow or -crimson-tipped on the edges of their flakes, like the edges of a -hazelnut bur; some are wholly brilliant scarlet, raying out regularly -and finely every way, bilaterally, like the veins of a leaf; others, -of more irregular form, when I turn my head slightly, emptying out -some of its earthiness and concealing the trunk of the tree, seem to -rest heavily flake on flake, like yellow and scarlet clouds, wreath -upon wreath, or like snow-drifts driving through the air, stratified -by the wind. It adds greatly to the beauty of such a swamp at this -season, that, even though there may be no other trees interspersed, it -is not seen as a simple mass of color, but, different trees being of -different colors and hues, the outline of each crescent treetop is -distinct, and where one laps on to another. Yet a painter would hardly -venture to make them thus distinct a quarter of a mile off. - -As I go across a meadow directly toward a low rising ground this -bright afternoon, I see, some fifty rods off toward the sun, the top -of a maple swamp just appearing over the sheeny russet edge of the -hill, a stripe apparently twenty rods long by ten feet deep, of the -most intensely brilliant scarlet, orange, and yellow, equal to any -flowers or fruits, or any tints ever painted. As I advance, lowering -the edge of the hill which makes the firm foreground or lower frame of -the picture, the depth of the brilliant grove revealed steadily -increases, suggesting that the whole of the inclosed valley is filled -with such color. One wonders that the tithing-men and fathers of the -town are not out to see what the trees mean by their high colors and -exuberance of spirits, fearing that some mischief is brewing. I do not -see what the Puritans did at this season, when the maples blaze out in -scarlet. They certainly could not have worshiped in groves then. -Perhaps that is what they built meeting-houses and fenced them round -with horse-sheds for. - - -THE ELM - -Now too, the first of October, or later, the elms are at the height of -their autumnal beauty,--great brownish-yellow masses, warm from their -September oven, hanging over the highway. Their leaves are perfectly -ripe. I wonder if there is any answering ripeness in the lives of the -men who live beneath them. As I look down our street, which is lined -with them, they remind me both by their form and color of yellowing -sheaves of grain, as if the harvest had indeed come to the village -itself, and we might expect to find some maturity and _flavor_ in the -thoughts of the villagers at last. Under those bright rustling yellow -piles just ready to fall on the heads of the walkers, how can any -crudity or greenness of thought or act prevail? When I stand where -half a dozen large elms droop over a house, it is as if I stood within -a ripe pumpkin-rind, and I feel as mellow as if I were the pulp, -though I may be somewhat stringy and seedy withal. What is the late -greenness of the English elm, like a cucumber out of season, which -does not know when to have done, compared with the early and golden -maturity of the American tree? The street is the scene of a great -harvest-home. It would be worth the while to set out these trees, if -only for their autumnal value. Think of these great yellow canopies -or parasols held over our heads and houses by the mile together, -making the village all one and compact,--an _ulmarium_, which is at -the same time a nursery of men! And then how gently and unobserved -they drop their burden and let in the sun when it is wanted, their -leaves not heard when they fall on our roofs and in our streets; and -thus the village parasol is shut up and put away! I see the market-man -driving into the village, and disappearing under its canopy of -elm-tops, with _his_ crop, as into a great granary or barn-yard. I am -tempted to go thither as to a husking of thoughts, now dry and ripe, -and ready to be separated from their integuments; but, alas! I foresee -that it will be chiefly husks and little thought, blasted pig-corn, -fit only for cob-meal,--for, as you sow, so shall you reap. - - -FALLEN LEAVES - -By the sixth of October the leaves generally begin to fall, in -successive showers, after frost or rain; but the principal -leaf-harvest, the acme of the _Fall_, is commonly about the sixteenth. -Some morning at that date there is perhaps a harder frost than we have -seen, and ice formed under the pump, and now, when the morning wind -rises, the leaves come down in denser showers than ever. They suddenly -form thick beds or carpets on the ground, in this gentle air, or even -without wind, just the size and form of the tree above. Some trees, as -small hickories, appear to have dropped their leaves instantaneously, -as a soldier grounds arms at a signal; and those of the hickory, -being bright yellow still, though withered, reflect a blaze of light -from the ground where they lie. Down they have come on all sides, at -the first earnest touch of autumn's wand, making a sound like rain. - -Or else it is after moist and rainy weather that we notice how great a -fall of leaves there has been in the night, though it may not yet be -the touch that loosens the rock maple leaf. The streets are thickly -strewn with the trophies, and fallen elm leaves make a dark brown -pavement under our feet. After some remarkably warm Indian-summer day -or days, I perceive that it is the unusual heat which, more than -anything, causes the leaves to fall, there having been, perhaps, no -frost nor rain for some time. The intense heat suddenly ripens and -wilts them, just as it softens and ripens peaches and other fruits, -and causes them to drop. - -The leaves of late red maples, still bright, strew the earth, often -crimson-spotted on a yellow ground, like some wild apples,--though -they preserve these bright colors on the ground but a day or two, -especially if it rains. On causeways I go by trees here and there all -bare and smoke-like, having lost their brilliant clothing; but there -it lies, nearly as bright as ever, on the ground on one side, and -making nearly as regular a figure as lately on the tree. I would -rather say that I first observe the trees thus flat on the ground like -a permanent colored shadow, and they suggest to look for the boughs -that bore them. A queen might be proud to walk where these gallant -trees have spread their bright cloaks in the mud. I see wagons roll -over them as a shadow or a reflection, and the drivers heed them just -as little as they did their shadows before. - -Birds' nests, in the huckleberry and other shrubs, and in trees, are -already being filled with the withered leaves. So many have fallen in -the woods that a squirrel cannot run after a falling nut without being -heard. Boys are raking them in the streets, if only for the pleasure -of dealing with such clean, crisp substances. Some sweep the paths -scrupulously neat, and then stand to see the next breath strew them -with new trophies. The swamp floor is thickly covered, and the -_Lycopodium lucidulum_ looks suddenly greener amid them. In dense -woods they half cover pools that are three or four rods long. The -other day I could hardly find a well-known spring, and even suspected -that it had dried up, for it was completely concealed by freshly -fallen leaves; and when I swept them aside and revealed it, it was -like striking the earth, with Aaron's rod, for a new spring. Wet -grounds about the edges of swamps look dry with them. At one swamp, -where I was surveying, thinking to step on a leafy shore from a rail, -I got into the water more than a foot deep. - -When I go to the river the day after the principal fall of leaves, the -sixteenth, I find my boat all covered, bottom and seats, with the -leaves of the golden willow under which it is moored, and I set sail -with a cargo of them rustling under my feet. If I empty it, it will be -full again to-morrow. I do not regard them as litter, to be swept out, -but accept them as suitable straw or matting for the bottom of my -carriage. When I turn up into the mouth of the Assabet, which is -wooded, large fleets of leaves are floating on its surface, as it -were getting out to sea, with room to tack; but next the shore, a -little farther up, they are thicker than foam, quite concealing the -water for a rod in width, under and amid the alders, button-bushes, -and maples, still perfectly light and dry, with fibre unrelaxed; and -at a rocky bend where they are met and stopped by the morning wind, -they sometimes form a broad and dense crescent quite across the river. -When I turn my prow that way, and the wave which it makes strikes -them, list what a pleasant rustling from these dry substances getting -on one another! Often it is their undulation only which reveals the -water beneath them. Also every motion of the wood turtle on the shore -is betrayed by their rustling there. Or even in mid-channel, when the -wind rises, I hear them blown with a rustling sound. Higher up they -are slowly moving round and round in some great eddy which the river -makes, as that at the "Leaning Hemlocks," where the water is deep, and -the current is wearing into the bank. - -Perchance, in the afternoon of such a day, when the water is perfectly -calm and full of reflections, I paddle gently down the main stream, -and, turning up the Assabet, reach a quiet cove, where I unexpectedly -find myself surrounded by myriads of leaves, like fellow-voyagers, -which seem to have the same purpose, or want of purpose, with myself. -See this great fleet of scattered leaf-boats which we paddle amid, in -this smooth river-bay, each one curled up on every side by the sun's -skill, each nerve a stiff spruce knee,--like boats of hide, and of all -patterns,--Charon's boat probably among the rest,--and some with -lofty prows and poops, like the stately vessels of the ancients, -scarcely moving in the sluggish current,--like the great fleets, the -dense Chinese cities of boats, with which you mingle on entering some -great mart, some New York or Canton, which we are all steadily -approaching together. How gently each has been deposited on the water! -No violence has been used towards them yet, though, perchance, -palpitating hearts were present at the launching. And painted ducks, -too, the splendid wood duck among the rest, often come to sail and -float amid the painted leaves,--barks of a nobler model still! - -What wholesome herb drinks are to be had in the swamps now! What -strong medicinal but rich scents from the decaying leaves! The rain -falling on the freshly dried herbs and leaves, and filling the pools -and ditches into which they have dropped thus clean and rigid, will -soon convert them into tea,--green, black, brown, and yellow teas, of -all degrees of strength, enough to set all Nature a-gossiping. Whether -we drink them or not, as yet, before their strength is drawn, these -leaves, dried on great Nature's coppers, are of such various pure and -delicate tints as might make the fame of Oriental teas. - -How they are mixed up, of all species, oak and maple and chestnut and -birch! But Nature is not cluttered with them; she is a perfect -husbandman; she stores them all. Consider what a vast crop is thus -annually shed on the earth! This, more than any mere grain or seed, is -the great harvest of the year. The trees are now repaying the earth -with interest what they have taken from it. They are discounting. -They are about to add a leaf's thickness to the depth of the soil. -This is the beautiful way in which Nature gets her muck, while I -chaffer with this man and that, who talks to me about sulphur and the -cost of carting. We are all the richer for their decay. I am more -interested in this crop than in the English grass alone or in the -corn. It prepares the virgin mould for future corn-fields and forests, -on which the earth fattens. It keeps our homestead in good heart. - -For beautiful variety no crop can be compared with this. Here is not -merely the plain yellow of the grains, but nearly all the colors that -we know, the brightest blue not excepted: the early blushing maple, -the poison sumach blazing its sins as scarlet, the mulberry ash, the -rich chrome yellow of the poplars, the brilliant red huckleberry, with -which the hills' backs are painted, like those of sheep. The frost -touches them, and, with the slightest breath of returning day or -jarring of earth's axle, see in what showers they come floating down! -The ground is all parti-colored with them. But they still live in the -soil, whose fertility and bulk they increase, and in the forests that -spring from it. They stoop to rise, to mount higher in coming years, -by subtle chemistry, climbing by the sap in the trees; and the -sapling's first fruits thus shed, transmuted at last, may adorn its -crown, when, in after years, it has become the monarch of the forest. - -It is pleasant to walk over the beds of these fresh, crisp, and -rustling leaves. How beautifully they go to their graves! how gently -lay themselves down and turn to mould!--painted of a thousand hues, -and fit to make the beds of us living. So they troop to their last -resting-place, light and frisky. They put on no weeds, but merrily -they go scampering over the earth, selecting the spot, choosing a lot, -ordering no iron fence, whispering all through the woods about -it,--some choosing the spot where the bodies of men are mouldering -beneath, and meeting them half-way. How many flutterings before they -rest quietly in their graves! They that soared so loftily, how -contentedly they return to dust again, and are laid low, resigned to -lie and decay at the foot of the tree, and afford nourishment to new -generations of their kind, as well as to flutter on high! They teach -us how to die. One wonders if the time will ever come when men, with -their boasted faith in immortality, will lie down as gracefully and as -ripe,--with such an Indian-summer serenity will shed their bodies, as -they do their hair and nails. - -When the leaves fall, the whole earth is a cemetery pleasant to walk -in. I love to wander and muse over them in their graves. Here are no -lying nor vain epitaphs. What though you own no lot at Mount Auburn? -Your lot is surely cast somewhere in this vast cemetery, which has -been consecrated from of old. You need attend no auction to secure a -place. There is room enough here. The loosestrife shall bloom and the -huckleberry-bird sing over your bones. The woodman and hunter shall be -your sextons, and the children shall tread upon the borders as much as -they will. Let us walk in the cemetery of the leaves; this is your -true Greenwood Cemetery. - - - [Illustration: _Fallen Leaves_] - -THE SUGAR MAPLE - -But think not that the splendor of the year is over; for as one leaf -does not make a summer, neither does one falling leaf make an autumn. -The smallest sugar maples in our streets make a great show as early as -the fifth of October, more than any other trees there. As I look up -the main street, they appear like painted screens standing before the -houses; yet many are green. But now, or generally by the seventeenth -of October, when almost all red maples and some white maples are bare, -the large sugar maples also are in their glory, glowing with yellow -and red, and show unexpectedly bright and delicate tints. They are -remarkable for the contrast they often afford of deep blushing red on -one half and green on the other. They become at length dense masses of -rich yellow with a deep scarlet blush, or more than blush, on the -exposed surfaces. They are the brightest trees now in the street. - -The large ones on our Common are particularly beautiful. A delicate -but warmer than golden yellow is now the prevailing color, with -scarlet cheeks. Yet, standing on the east side of the Common just -before sundown, when the western light is transmitted through them, I -see that their yellow even, compared with the pale lemon yellow of an -elm close by, amounts to a scarlet, without noticing the bright -scarlet portions. Generally, they are great regular oval masses of -yellow and scarlet. All the sunny warmth of the season, the Indian -summer, seems to be absorbed in their leaves. The lowest and inmost -leaves next the bole are, as usual, of the most delicate yellow and -green, like the complexion of young men brought up in the house. There -is an auction on the Common to-day, but its red flag is hard to be -discerned amid this blaze of color. - -Little did the fathers of the town anticipate this brilliant success, -when they caused to be imported from farther in the country some -straight poles with their tops cut off, which they called sugar -maples; and, as I remember, after they were set out, a neighboring -merchant's clerk, by way of jest, planted beans about them. Those -which were then jestingly called bean-poles are to-day far the most -beautiful objects noticeable in our streets. They are worth all and -more than they have cost,--though one of the selectmen, while setting -them out, took the cold which occasioned his death,--if only because -they have filled the open eyes of children with their rich color -unstintedly so many Octobers. We will not ask them to yield us sugar -in the spring, while they afford us so fair a prospect in the autumn. -Wealth indoors may be the inheritance of few, but it is equally -distributed on the Common. All children alike can revel in this golden -harvest. - -Surely trees should be set in our streets with a view to their October -splendor, though I doubt whether this is ever considered by the "Tree -Society." Do you not think it will make some odds to these children -that they were brought up under the maples? Hundreds of eyes are -steadily drinking in this color, and by these teachers even the -truants are caught and educated the moment they step abroad. Indeed, -neither the truant nor the studious is at present taught color in the -schools. These are instead of the bright colors in apothecaries' -shops and city windows. It is a pity that we have no more _red_ -maples, and some hickories, in our streets as well. Our paint-box is -very imperfectly filled. Instead of, or beside, supplying such -paint-boxes as we do, we might supply these natural colors to the -young. Where else will they study color under greater advantages? What -School of Design can vie with this? Think how much the eyes of -painters of all kinds, and of manufacturers of cloth and paper, and -paper-stainers, and countless others, are to be educated by these -autumnal colors. The stationer's envelopes may be of very various -tints, yet not so various as those of the leaves of a single tree. If -you want a different shade or tint of a particular color, you have -only to look farther within or without the tree or the wood. These -leaves are not many dipped in one dye, as at the dye-house, but they -are dyed in light of infinitely various degrees of strength and left -to set and dry there. - -Shall the names of so many of our colors continue to be derived from -those of obscure foreign localities, as Naples yellow, Prussian blue, -raw Sienna, burnt Umber, Gamboge? (surely the Tyrian purple must have -faded by this time), or from comparatively trivial articles of -commerce,--chocolate, lemon, coffee, cinnamon, claret? (shall we -compare our hickory to a lemon, or a lemon to a hickory?) or from ores -and oxides which few ever see? Shall we so often, when describing to -our neighbors the color of something we have seen, refer them, not to -some natural object in our neighborhood, but perchance to a bit of -earth fetched from the other side of the planet, which possibly they -may find at the apothecary's, but which probably neither they nor we -ever saw? Have we not an _earth_ under our feet,--aye, and a sky over -our heads? Or is the last _all_ ultramarine? What do we know of -sapphire, amethyst, emerald, ruby, amber, and the like,--most of us -who take these names in vain? Leave these precious words to -cabinet-keepers, virtuosos, and maids-of-honor,--to the Nabobs, -Begums, and Chobdars of Hindostan, or wherever else. I do not see why, -since America and her autumn woods have been discovered, our leaves -should not compete with the precious stones in giving names to colors; -and, indeed, I believe that in course of time the names of some of our -trees and shrubs, as well as flowers, will get into our popular -chromatic nomenclature. - -But of much more importance than a knowledge of the names and -distinctions of color is the joy and exhilaration which these colored -leaves excite. Already these brilliant trees throughout the street, -without any more variety, are at least equal to an annual festival and -holiday, or a week of such. These are cheap and innocent gala-days, -celebrated by one and all without the aid of committees or marshals, -such a show as may safely be licensed, not attracting gamblers or -rum-sellers, not requiring any special police to keep the peace. And -poor indeed must be that New England village's October which has not -the maple in its streets. This October festival costs no powder, nor -ringing of bells, but every tree is a living liberty-pole on which a -thousand bright flags are waving. - -No wonder that we must have our annual cattle-show, and fall training, -and perhaps cornwallis, our September courts, and the like. Nature -herself holds her annual fair in October, not only in the streets, but -in every hollow and on every hillside. When lately we looked into that -red maple swamp all ablaze, where the trees were clothed in their -vestures of most dazzling tints, did it not suggest a thousand gypsies -beneath,--a race capable of wild delight,--or even the fabled fauns, -satyrs, and wood-nymphs come back to earth? Or was it only a -congregation of wearied woodchoppers, or of proprietors come to -inspect their lots, that we thought of? Or, earlier still, when we -paddled on the river through that fine-grained September air, did -there not appear to be something new going on under the sparkling -surface of the stream, a shaking of props, at least, so that we made -haste in order to be up in time? Did not the rows of yellowing willows -and button-bushes on each side seem like rows of booths, under which, -perhaps, some fluviatile egg-pop equally yellow was effervescing? Did -not all these suggest that man's spirits should rise as high as -Nature's,--should hang out their flag, and the routine of his life be -interrupted by an analogous expression of joy and hilarity? - -No annual training or muster of soldiery, no celebration with its -scarfs and banners, could import into the town a hundredth part of the -annual splendor of our October. We have only to set the trees, or let -them stand, and Nature will find the colored drapery,--flags of all -her nations, some of whose private signals hardly the botanist can -read,--while we walk under the triumphal arches of the elms. Leave it -to Nature to appoint the days, whether the same as in neighboring -States or not, and let the clergy read her proclamations, if they can -understand them. Behold what a brilliant drapery is her woodbine flag! -What public-spirited merchant, think you, has contributed this part of -the show? There is no handsomer shingling and paint than this vine, at -present covering a whole side of some houses. I do not believe that -the ivy _never sere_ is comparable to it. No wonder it has been -extensively introduced into London. Let us have a good many maples and -hickories and scarlet oaks, then, I say. Blaze away! Shall that dirty -roll of bunting in the gun-house be all the colors a village can -display? A village is not complete, unless it have these trees to mark -the season in it. They are important, like the town clock. A village -that has them not will not be found to work well. It has a screw -loose, an essential part is wanting. Let us have willows for spring, -elms for summer, maples and walnuts and tupeloes for autumn, -evergreens for winter, and oaks for all seasons. What is a gallery in -a house to a gallery in the streets, which every market-man rides -through, whether he will or not? Of course, there is not a -picture-gallery in the country which would be worth so much to us as -is the western view at sunset under the elms of our main street. They -are the frame to a picture which is daily painted behind them. An -avenue of elms as large as our largest and three miles long would seem -to lead to some admirable place, though only C---- were at the end of -it. - -A village needs these innocent stimulants of bright and cheering -prospects to keep off melancholy and superstition. Show me two -villages, one embowered in trees and blazing with all the glories of -October, the other a merely trivial and treeless waste, or with only a -single tree or two for suicides, and I shall be sure that in the -latter will be found the most starved and bigoted religionists and the -most desperate drinkers. Every wash-tub and milk-can and gravestone -will be exposed. The inhabitants will disappear abruptly behind their -barns and houses, like desert Arabs amid their rocks, and I shall look -to see spears in their hands. They will be ready to accept the most -barren and forlorn doctrine,--as that the world is speedily coming to -an end, or has already got to it, or that they themselves are turned -wrong side outward. They will perchance crack their dry joints at one -another and call it a spiritual communication. - -But to confine ourselves to the maples. What if we were to take half -as much pains in protecting them as we do in setting them out,--not -stupidly tie our horses to our dahlia stems? - -What meant the fathers by establishing this _perfectly living_ -institution before the church,--this institution which needs no -repairing nor repainting, which is continually enlarged and repaired -by its growth? Surely they - - "Wrought in a sad sincerity; - Themselves from God they could not free; - They _planted_ better than they knew;-- - The conscious _trees_ to beauty grew." - -Verily these maples are cheap preachers, permanently settled, which -preach their half-century, and century, aye, and century-and-a-half -sermons, with constantly increasing unction and influence, ministering -to many generations of men; and the least we can do is to supply them -with suitable colleagues as they grow infirm. - - -THE SCARLET OAK - -Belonging to a genus which is remarkable for the beautiful form of its -leaves, I suspect that some scarlet oak leaves surpass those of all -other oaks in the rich and wild beauty of their outlines. I judge from -an acquaintance with twelve species, and from drawings which I have -seen of many others. - -Stand under this tree and see how finely its leaves are cut against -the sky,--as it were, only a few sharp points extending from a midrib. -They look like double, treble, or quadruple crosses. They are far more -ethereal than the less deeply scalloped oak leaves. They have so -little leafy _terra firma_ that they appear melting away in the light, -and scarcely obstruct our view. The leaves of very young plants are, -like those of full-grown oaks of other species, more entire, simple, -and lumpish in their outlines, but these, raised high on old trees, -have solved the leafy problem. Lifted higher and higher, and -sublimated more and more, putting off some earthiness and cultivating -more intimacy with the light each year, they have at length the least -possible amount of earthy matter, and the greatest spread and grasp of -skyey influences. There they dance, arm in arm with the -light,--tripping it on fantastic points, fit partners in those aerial -halls. So intimately mingled are they with it, that, what with their -slenderness and their glossy surfaces, you can hardly tell at last -what in the dance is leaf and what is light. And when no zephyr stirs, -they are at most but a rich tracery to the forest windows. - -I am again struck with their beauty, when, a month later, they thickly -strew the ground in the woods, piled one upon another under my feet. -They are then brown above, but purple beneath. With their narrow lobes -and their bold, deep scallops reaching almost to the middle, they -suggest that the material must be cheap, or else there has been a -lavish expense in their creation, as if so much had been cut out. Or -else they seem to us the remnants of the stuff out of which leaves -have been cut with a die. Indeed, when they lie thus one upon another, -they remind me of a pile of scrap-tin. - -Or bring one home, and study it closely at your leisure, by the -fireside. It is a type, not from any Oxford font, not in the Basque -nor the arrow-headed character, not found on the Rosetta Stone, but -destined to be copied in sculpture one day, if they ever get to -whittling stone here. What a wild and pleasing outline, a combination -of graceful curves and angles! The eye rests with equal delight on -what is not leaf and on what is leaf,--on the broad, free, open -sinuses, and on the long, sharp, bristle-pointed lobes. A simple oval -outline would include it all, if you connected the points of the leaf; -but how much richer is it than that, with its half-dozen deep -scallops, in which the eye and thought of the beholder are embayed! If -I were a drawing-master, I would set my pupils to copying these -leaves, that they might learn to draw firmly and gracefully. - -Regarded as water, it is like a pond with half a dozen broad rounded -promontories extending nearly to its middle, half from each side, -while its watery bays extend far inland, like sharp friths, at each of -whose heads several fine streams empty in,--almost a leafy -archipelago. - -But it oftener suggests land, and, as Dionysius and Pliny compared the -form of the Morea to that of the leaf of the Oriental plane tree, so -this leaf reminds me of some fair wild island in the ocean, whose -extensive coast, alternate rounded bays with smooth strands, and -sharp-pointed rocky capes, mark it as fitted for the habitation of -man, and destined to become a centre of civilization at last. To the -sailor's eye, it is a much indented shore. Is it not, in fact, a shore -to the aerial ocean, on which the windy surf beats? At sight of this -leaf we are all mariners,--if not vikings, buccaneers, and -filibusters. Both our love of repose and our spirit of adventure are -addressed. In our most casual glance, perchance, we think that if we -succeed in doubling those sharp capes we shall find deep, smooth, and -secure havens in the ample bays. How different from the white oak -leaf, with its rounded headlands, on which no lighthouse need be -placed! That is an England, with its long civil history, that may be -read. This is some still unsettled New-found Island or Celebes. Shall -we go and be rajahs there? - -By the twenty-sixth of October the large scarlet oaks are in their -prime, when other oaks are usually withered. They have been kindling -their fires for a week past, and now generally burst into a blaze. -This alone of _our_ indigenous deciduous trees (excepting the -dogwood, of which I do not know half a dozen, and they are but large -bushes) is now in its glory. The two aspens and the sugar maple come -nearest to it in date, but they have lost the greater part of their -leaves. Of evergreens, only the pitch pine is still commonly bright. - -But it requires a particular alertness, if not devotion to these -phenomena, to appreciate the wide-spread, but late and unexpected -glory of the scarlet oaks. I do not speak here of the small trees and -shrubs, which are commonly observed, and which are now withered, but -of the large trees. Most go in and shut their doors, thinking that -bleak and colorless November has already come, when some of the most -brilliant and memorable colors are not yet lit. - -This very perfect and vigorous one, about forty feet high, standing in -an open pasture, which was quite glossy green on the twelfth, is now, -the twenty-sixth, completely changed to bright dark-scarlet,--every -leaf, between you and the sun, as if it had been dipped into a scarlet -dye. The whole tree is much like a heart in form, as well as color. -Was not this worth waiting for? Little did you think, ten days ago, -that that cold green tree would assume such color as this. Its leaves -are still firmly attached, while those of other trees are falling -around it. It seems to say: "I am the last to blush, but I blush -deeper than any of ye. I bring up the rear in my red coat. We scarlet -ones, alone of oaks, have not given up the fight." - -The sap is now, and even far into November, frequently flowing fast in -these trees, as in maples in the spring; and apparently their bright -tints, now that most other oaks are withered, are connected with this -phenomenon. They are full of life. It has a pleasantly astringent, -acorn-like taste, this strong oak wine, as I find on tapping them with -my knife. - -Looking across this woodland valley, a quarter of a mile wide, how -rich those scarlet oaks embosomed in pines, their bright red branches -intimately intermingled with them! They have their full effect there. -The pine boughs are the green calyx to their red petals. Or, as we go -along a road in the woods, the sun striking endwise through it, and -lighting up the red tents of the oaks, which on each side are mingled -with the liquid green of the pines, makes a very gorgeous scene. -Indeed, without the evergreens for contrast, the autumnal tints would -lose much of their effect. - -The scarlet oak asks a clear sky and the brightness of late October -days. These bring out its colors. If the sun goes into a cloud they -become comparatively indistinct. As I sit on a cliff in the southwest -part of our town, the sun is now getting low, and the woods in -Lincoln, south and east of me, are lit up by its more level rays; and -in the scarlet oaks, scattered so equally over the forest, there is -brought out a more brilliant redness than I had believed was in them. -Every tree of this species which is visible in those directions, even -to the horizon, now stands out distinctly red. Some great ones lift -their red backs high above the woods, in the next town, like huge -roses with a myriad of fine petals; and some more slender ones, in a -small grove of white pines on Pine Hill in the east, on the very verge -of the horizon, alternating with the pines on the edge of the grove, -and shouldering them with their red coats, look like soldiers in red -amid hunters in green. This time it is Lincoln green, too. Till the -sun got low, I did not believe that there were so many redcoats in the -forest army. Theirs is an intense, burning red, which would lose some -of its strength, methinks, with every step you might take toward them; -for the shade that lurks amid their foliage does not report itself at -this distance, and they are unanimously red. The focus of their -reflected color is in the atmosphere far on this side. Every such tree -becomes a nucleus of red, as it were, where, with the declining sun, -that color grows and glows. It is partly borrowed fire, gathering -strength from the sun on its way to your eye. It has only some -comparatively dull red leaves for a rallying-point, or kindling-stuff, -to start it, and it becomes an intense scarlet or red mist, or fire, -which finds fuel for itself in the very atmosphere. So vivacious is -redness. The very rails reflect a rosy light at this hour and season. -You see a redder tree than exists. - -If you wish to count the scarlet oaks, do it now. In a clear day stand -thus on a hilltop in the woods, when the sun is an hour high, and -every one within range of your vision, excepting in the west, will be -revealed. You might live to the age of Methuselah and never find a -tithe of them, otherwise. Yet sometimes even in a dark day I have -thought them as bright as I ever saw them. Looking westward, their -colors are lost in a blaze of light; but in other directions the whole -forest is a flower-garden, in which these late roses burn, alternating -with green, while the so-called "gardeners," walking here and there, -perchance, beneath, with spade and water-pot, see only a few little -asters amid withered leaves. - -These are _my_ China-asters, _my_ late garden-flowers. It costs me -nothing for a gardener. The falling leaves, all over the forest, are -protecting the roots of my plants. Only look at what is to be seen, -and you will have garden enough, without deepening the soil in your -yard. We have only to elevate our view a little, to see the whole -forest as a garden. The blossoming of the scarlet oak,--the -forest-flower, surpassing all in splendor (at least since the maple)! -I do not know but they interest me more than the maples, they are so -widely and equally dispersed throughout the forest; they are so hardy, -a nobler tree on the whole; our chief November flower, abiding the -approach of winter with us, imparting warmth to early November -prospects. It is remarkable that the latest bright color that is -general should be this deep, dark scarlet and red, the intensest of -colors. The ripest fruit of the year; like the cheek of a hard, glossy -red apple, from the cold Isle of Orleans, which will not be mellow for -eating till next spring! When I rise to a hilltop, a thousand of these -great oak roses, distributed on every side, as far as the horizon! I -admire them four or five miles off! This my unfailing prospect for a -fortnight past! This late forest-flower surpasses all that spring or -summer could do. Their colors were but rare and dainty specks -comparatively (created for the near-sighted, who walk amid the -humblest herbs and underwoods), and made no impression on a distant -eye. Now it is an extended forest or a mountain-side, through or along -which we journey from day to day, that bursts into bloom. -Comparatively, our gardening is on a petty scale,--the gardener still -nursing a few asters amid dead weeds, ignorant of the gigantic asters -and roses which, as it were, overshadow him, and ask for none of his -care. It is like a little red paint ground on a saucer, and held up -against the sunset sky. Why not take more elevated and broader views, -walk in the great garden; not skulk in a little "debauched" nook of -it? consider the beauty of the forest, and not merely of a few -impounded herbs? - -Let your walks now be a little more adventurous; ascend the hills. If, -about the last of October, you ascend any hill in the outskirts of our -town, and probably of yours, and look over the forest, you may -see--well, what I have endeavored to describe. All this you surely -_will_ see, and much more, if you are prepared to see it,--if you -_look_ for it. Otherwise, regular and universal as this phenomenon is, -whether you stand on the hilltop or in the hollow, you will think for -threescore years and ten that all the wood is, at this season, sere -and brown. Objects are concealed from our view, not so much because -they are out of the course of our visual ray as because we do not -bring our minds and eyes to bear on them; for there is no power to see -in the eye itself, any more than in any other jelly. We do not realize -how far and widely, or how near and narrowly, we are to look. The -greater part of the phenomena of Nature are for this reason concealed -from us all our lives. The gardener sees only the gardener's garden. -Here, too, as in political economy, the supply answers to the demand. -Nature does not cast pearls before swine. There is just as much -beauty visible to us in the landscape as we are prepared to -appreciate,--not a grain more. The actual objects which one man will -see from a particular hilltop are just as different from those which -another will see as the beholders are different. The scarlet oak must, -in a sense, be in your eye when you go forth. We cannot see anything -until we are possessed with the idea of it, take it into our -heads,--and then we can hardly see anything else. In my botanical -rambles I find that, first, the idea, or image, of a plant occupies my -thoughts, though it may seem very foreign to this locality,--no nearer -than Hudson's Bay,--and for some weeks or months I go thinking of it, -and expecting it, unconsciously, and at length I surely see it. This -is the history of my finding a score or more of rare plants which I -could name. A man sees only what concerns him. A botanist absorbed in -the study of grasses does not distinguish the grandest pasture oaks. -He, as it were, tramples down oaks unwittingly in his walk, or at most -sees only their shadows. I have found that it required a different -intention of the eye, in the same locality, to see different plants, -even when they were closely allied, as _Juncaceae_ and _Gramineae_: -when I was looking for the former, I did not see the latter in the -midst of them. How much more, then, it requires different intentions -of the eye and of the mind to attend to different departments of -knowledge! How differently the poet and the naturalist look at -objects! - -Take a New England selectman, and set him on the highest of our hills, -and tell him to look,--sharpening his sight to the utmost, and putting -on the glasses that suit him best (aye, using a spy-glass, if he -likes),--and make a full report. What, probably, will he _spy_?--what -will he _select_ to look at? Of course, he will see a Brocken spectre -of himself. He will see several meeting-houses, at least, and, -perhaps, that somebody ought to be assessed higher than he is, since -he has so handsome a wood-lot. Now take Julius Cæsar, or Emanuel -Swedenborg, or a Fiji-Islander, and set him up there. Or suppose all -together, and let them compare notes afterward. Will it appear that -they have enjoyed the same prospect? What they will see will be as -different as Rome was from heaven or hell, or the last from the Fiji -Islands. For aught we know, as strange a man as any of these is always -at our elbow. - -Why, it takes a sharpshooter to bring down even such trivial game as -snipes and woodcocks; he must take very particular aim, and know what -he is aiming at. He would stand a very small chance, if he fired at -random into the sky, being told that snipes were flying there. And so -is it with him that shoots at beauty; though he wait till the sky -falls, he will not bag any, if he does not already know its seasons -and haunts, and the color of its wing,--if he has not dreamed of it, -so that he can _anticipate_ it; then, indeed, he flushes it at every -step, shoots double and on the wing, with both barrels, even in -corn-fields. The sportsman trains himself, dresses, and watches -unweariedly, and loads and primes for his particular game. He prays -for it, and offers sacrifices, and so he gets it. After due and long -preparation, schooling his eye and hand, dreaming awake and asleep, -with gun and paddle and boat, he goes out after meadow-hens, which -most of his townsmen never saw nor dreamed of, and paddles for miles -against a head wind, and wades in water up to his knees, being out all -day without his dinner, and _therefore_ he gets them. He had them -half-way into his bag when he started, and has only to shove them -down. The true sportsman can shoot you almost any of his game from his -windows: what else has he windows or eyes for? It comes and perches at -last on the barrel of his gun; but the rest of the world never see it -_with the feathers on_. The geese fly exactly under his zenith, and -honk when they get there, and he will keep himself supplied by firing -up his chimney; twenty musquash have the refusal of each one of his -traps before it is empty. If he lives, and his game spirit increases, -heaven and earth shall fail him sooner than game; and when he dies, he -will go to more extensive and, perchance, happier hunting-grounds. The -fisherman, too, dreams of fish, sees a bobbing cork in his dreams, -till he can almost catch them in his sink-spout. I knew a girl who, -being sent to pick huckleberries, picked wild gooseberries by the -quart, where no one else knew that there were any, because she was -accustomed to pick them up-country where she came from. The astronomer -knows where to go star-gathering, and sees one clearly in his mind -before any have seen it with a glass. The hen scratches and finds her -food right under where she stands; but such is not the way with the -hawk. - - * * * * * - -These bright leaves which I have mentioned are not the exception, but -the rule; for I believe that all leaves, even grasses and mosses, -acquire brighter colors just before their fall. When you come to -observe faithfully the changes of each humblest plant, you find that -each has, sooner or later, its peculiar autumnal tint; and if you -undertake to make a complete list of the bright tints, it will be -nearly as long as a catalogue of the plants in your vicinity. - - - - -WILD APPLES - -THE HISTORY OF THE APPLE TREE - - -It is remarkable how closely the history of the apple tree is -connected with that of man. The geologist tells us that the order of -the _Rosaceae_, which includes the apple, also the true grasses, and -the _Labiatae_, or mints, were introduced only a short time previous -to the appearance of man on the globe. - -It appears that apples made a part of the food of that unknown -primitive people whose traces have lately been found at the bottom of -the Swiss lakes, supposed to be older than the foundation of Rome, so -old that they had no metallic implements. An entire black and -shriveled crab-apple has been recovered from their stores. - -Tacitus says of the ancient Germans that they satisfied their hunger -with wild apples (_agrestia poma_), among other things. - -Niebuhr observes that "the words for a house, a field, a plow, -plowing, wine, oil, milk, sheep, apples, and others relating to -agriculture and the gentler way of life, agree in Latin and Greek, -while the Latin words for all objects pertaining to war or the chase -are utterly alien from the Greek." Thus the apple tree may be -considered a symbol of peace no less than the olive. - -The apple was early so important, and generally distributed, that its -name traced to its root in many languages signifies fruit in general. -[Greek: Mêlon], in Greek, means an apple, also the fruit of other -trees, also a sheep and any cattle, and finally riches in general. - -The apple tree has been celebrated by the Hebrews, Greeks, Romans, and -Scandinavians. Some have thought that the first human pair were -tempted by its fruit. Goddesses are fabled to have contended for it, -dragons were set to watch it, and heroes were employed to pluck it. - -The tree is mentioned in at least three places in the Old Testament, -and its fruit in two or three more. Solomon sings, "As the apple-tree -among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons." And -again, "Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples." The noblest -part of man's noblest feature is named from this fruit, "the apple of -the eye." - -The apple tree is also mentioned by Homer and Herodotus. Ulysses saw -in the glorious garden of Alcinoûs "pears and pomegranates, and apple -trees bearing beautiful fruit" ([Greek: kai mêleai aglaokarpoi]). And -according to Homer, apples were among the fruits which Tantalus could -not pluck, the wind ever blowing their boughs away from him. -Theophrastus knew and described the apple tree as a botanist. - -According to the Prose Edda, "Iduna keeps in a box the apples which -the gods, when they feel old age approaching, have only to taste of to -become young again. It is in this manner that they will be kept in -renovated youth until Ragnarôk" (or the destruction of the gods). - -I learn from Loudon that "the ancient Welsh bards were rewarded for -excelling in song by the token of the apple-spray;" and "in the -Highlands of Scotland the apple-tree is the badge of the clan Lamont." - -The apple tree (_Pyrus malus_) belongs chiefly to the northern -temperate zone. Loudon says that "it grows spontaneously in every part -of Europe except the frigid zone, and throughout Western Asia, China, -and Japan." We have also two or three varieties of the apple -indigenous in North America. The cultivated apple tree was first -introduced into this country by the earliest settlers, and is thought -to do as well or better here than anywhere else. Probably some of the -varieties which are now cultivated were first introduced into Britain -by the Romans. - -Pliny, adopting the distinction of Theophrastus, says, "Of trees there -are some which are altogether wild (_sylvestres_), some more civilized -(_urbaniores_)." Theophrastus includes the apple among the last; and, -indeed, it is in this sense the most civilized of all trees. It is as -harmless as a dove, as beautiful as a rose, and as valuable as flocks -and herds. It has been longer cultivated than any other, and so is -more humanized; and who knows but, like the dog, it will at length be -no longer traceable to its wild original? It migrates with man, like -the dog and horse and cow: first, perchance, from Greece to Italy, -thence to England, thence to America; and our Western emigrant is -still marching steadily toward the setting sun with the seeds of the -apple in his pocket, or perhaps a few young trees strapped to his -load. At least a million apple trees are thus set farther westward -this year than any cultivated ones grew last year. Consider how the -Blossom Week, like the Sabbath, is thus annually spreading over the -prairies; for when man migrates, he carries with him not only his -birds, quadrupeds, insects, vegetables, and his very sward, but his -orchard also. - -The leaves and tender twigs are an agreeable food to many domestic -animals, as the cow, horse, sheep, and goat; and the fruit is sought -after by the first, as well as by the hog. Thus there appears to have -existed a natural alliance between these animals and this tree from -the first. "The fruit of the crab in the forests of France" is said to -be "a great resource for the wild boar." - -Not only the Indian, but many indigenous insects, birds, and -quadrupeds, welcomed the apple tree to these shores. The tent -caterpillar saddled her eggs on the very first twig that was formed, -and it has since shared her affections with the wild cherry; and the -canker-worm also in a measure abandoned the elm to feed on it. As it -grew apace, the bluebird, robin, cherry-bird, kingbird, and many more -came with haste and built their nests and warbled in its boughs, and -so became orchard-birds, and multiplied more than ever. It was an era -in the history of their race. The downy woodpecker found such a savory -morsel under its bark that he perforated it in a ring quite round the -tree, before he left it,--a thing which he had never done before, to -my knowledge. It did not take the partridge long to find out how sweet -its buds were, and every winter eve she flew, and still flies, from -the wood, to pluck them, much to the farmer's sorrow. The rabbit, too, -was not slow to learn the taste of its twigs and bark; and when the -fruit was ripe, the squirrel half rolled, half carried it to his hole; -and even the musquash crept up the bank from the brook at evening, and -greedily devoured it, until he had worn a path in the grass there; and -when it was frozen and thawed, the crow and the jay were glad to taste -it occasionally. The owl crept into the first apple tree that became -hollow, and fairly hooted with delight, finding it just the place for -him; so, settling down into it, he has remained there ever since. - -My theme being the Wild Apple, I will merely glance at some of the -seasons in the annual growth of the cultivated apple, and pass on to -my special province. - -The flowers of the apple are perhaps the most beautiful of any tree's, -so copious and so delicious to both sight and scent. The walker is -frequently tempted to turn and linger near some more than usually -handsome one, whose blossoms are two-thirds expanded. How superior it -is in these respects to the pear, whose blossoms are neither colored -nor fragrant! - -By the middle of July, green apples are so large as to remind us of -coddling, and of the autumn. The sward is commonly strewed with little -ones which fall stillborn, as it were,--Nature thus thinning them for -us. The Roman writer Palladius said, "If apples are inclined to fall -before their time, a stone placed in a split root will retain them." -Some such notion, still surviving, may account for some of the stones -which we see placed, to be overgrown, in the forks of trees. They have -a saying in Suffolk, England,-- - - "At Michaelmas time, or a little before, - Half an apple goes to the core." - -Early apples begin to be ripe about the first of August; but I think -that none of them are so good to eat as some to smell. One is worth -more to scent your handkerchief with than any perfume which they sell -in the shops. The fragrance of some fruits is not to be forgotten, -along with that of flowers. Some gnarly apple which I pick up in the -road reminds me by its fragrance of all the wealth of Pomona,--carrying -me forward to those days when they will be collected in golden and -ruddy heaps in the orchards and about the cider-mills. - -A week or two later, as you are going by orchards or gardens, -especially in the evenings, you pass through a little region possessed -by the fragrance of ripe apples, and thus enjoy them without price, -and without robbing anybody. - -There is thus about all natural products a certain volatile and -ethereal quality which represents their highest value, and which -cannot be vulgarized, or bought and sold. No mortal has ever enjoyed -the perfect flavor of any fruit, and only the godlike among men begin -to taste its ambrosial qualities. For nectar and ambrosia are only -those fine flavors of every earthly fruit which our coarse palates -fail to perceive,--just as we occupy the heaven of the gods without -knowing it. When I see a particularly mean man carrying a load of fair -and fragrant early apples to market, I seem to see a contest going on -between him and his horse, on the one side, and the apples on the -other, and, to my mind, the apples always gain it. Pliny says that -apples are the heaviest of all things, and that the oxen begin to -sweat at the mere sight of a load of them. Our driver begins to lose -his load the moment he tries to transport them to where they do not -belong, that is, to any but the most beautiful. Though he gets out -from time to time, and feels of them, and thinks they are all there, I -see the stream of their evanescent and celestial qualities going to -heaven from his cart, while the pulp and skin and core only are going -to market. They are not apples, but pomace. Are not these still -Iduna's apples, the taste of which keeps the gods forever young? and -think you that they will let Loki or Thjassi carry them off to -Jötunheim, while they grow wrinkled and gray? No, for Ragnarök, or the -destruction of the gods, is not yet. - -There is another thinning of the fruit, commonly near the end of -August or in September, when the ground is strewn with windfalls; and -this happens especially when high winds occur after rain. In some -orchards you may see fully three quarters of the whole crop on the -ground, lying in a circular form beneath the trees, yet hard and -green, or, if it is a hillside, rolled far down the hill. However, it -is an ill wind that blows nobody any good. All the country over, -people are busy picking up the windfalls, and this will make them -cheap for early apple pies. - -In October, the leaves falling, the apples are more distinct on the -trees. I saw one year in a neighboring town some trees fuller of fruit -than I remember to have ever seen before, small yellow apples hanging -over the road. The branches were gracefully drooping with their -weight, like a barberry bush, so that the whole tree acquired a new -character. Even the topmost branches, instead of standing erect, -spread and drooped in all directions; and there were so many poles -supporting the lower ones that they looked like pictures of banyan -trees. As an old English manuscript says, "The mo appelen the tree -bereth the more sche boweth to the folk." - -Surely the apple is the noblest of fruits. Let the most beautiful or -the swiftest have it. That should be the "going" price of apples. - -Between the 5th and 20th of October I see the barrels lie under the -trees. And perhaps I talk with one who is selecting some choice -barrels to fulfill an order. He turns a specked one over many times -before he leaves it out. If I were to tell what is passing in my mind, -I should say that every one was specked which he had handled; for he -rubs off all the bloom, and those fugacious ethereal qualities leave -it. Cool evenings prompt the farmers to make haste, and at length I -see only the ladders here and there left leaning against the trees. - -It would be well, if we accepted these gifts with more joy and -gratitude, and did not think it enough simply to put a fresh load of -compost about the tree. Some old English customs are suggestive at -least. I find them described chiefly in Brand's "Popular Antiquities." -It appears that "on Christmas Eve the farmers and their men in -Devonshire take a large bowl of cider, with a toast in it, and -carrying it in state to the orchard, they salute the apple-trees with -much ceremony, in order to make them bear well the next season." This -salutation consists in "throwing some of the cider about the roots of -the tree, placing bits of the toast on the branches," and then, -"encircling one of the best bearing trees in the orchard, they drink -the following toast three several times:-- - - 'Here's to thee, old apple tree, - Whence thou mayst bud, and whence thou mayst blow, - And whence thou mayst bear apples enow! - Hats-full! caps-full! - Bushel, bushel, sacks-full! - And my pockets full, too! Hurra!'" - -Also what was called "apple-howling" used to be practiced in various -counties of England on New Year's Eve. A troop of boys visited the -different orchards, and, encircling the apple trees, repeated the -following words:-- - - "Stand fast, root! bear well, top! - Pray God send us a good howling crop: - Every twig, apples big; - Every bough, apples enow!" - -"They then shout in chorus, one of the boys accompanying them on a -cow's horn. During this ceremony they rap the trees with their -sticks." This is called "wassailing" the trees, and is thought by some -to be "a relic of the heathen sacrifice to Pomona." - -Herrick sings,-- - - "Wassaile the trees that they may beare - You many a plum and many a peare; - For more or less fruits they will bring - As you so give them wassailing." - -Our poets have as yet a better right to sing of cider than of wine; -but it behooves them to sing better than English Phillips did, else -they will do no credit to their Muse. - - -THE WILD APPLE - -So much for the more civilized apple trees (_urbaniores_, as Pliny -calls them). I love better to go through the old orchards of ungrafted -apple trees, at what ever season of the year,--so irregularly planted: -sometimes two trees standing close together; and the rows so devious -that you would think that they not only had grown while the owner was -sleeping, but had been set out by him in a somnambulic state. The rows -of grafted fruit will never tempt me to wander amid them like these. -But I now, alas, speak rather from memory than from any recent -experience, such ravages have been made! - -Some soils, like a rocky tract called the Easterbrooks Country in my -neighborhood, are so suited to the apple, that it will grow faster in -them without any care, or if only the ground is broken up once a year, -than it will in many places with any amount of care. The owners of -this tract allow that the soil is excellent for fruit, but they say -that it is so rocky that they have not patience to plow it, and that, -together with the distance, is the reason why it is not cultivated. -There are, or were recently, extensive orchards there standing without -order. Nay, they spring up wild and bear well there in the midst of -pines, birches, maples, and oaks. I am often surprised to see rising -amid these trees the rounded tops of apple trees glowing with red or -yellow fruit, in harmony with the autumnal tints of the forest. - -Going up the side of a cliff about the first of November, I saw a -vigorous young apple tree, which, planted by birds or cows, had shot -up amid the rocks and open woods there, and had now much fruit on it, -uninjured by the frosts, when all cultivated apples were gathered. It -was a rank, wild growth, with many green leaves on it still, and made -an impression of thorniness. The fruit was hard and green, but looked -as if it would be palatable in the winter. Some was dangling on the -twigs, but more half buried in the wet leaves under the tree, or -rolled far down the hill amid the rocks. The owner knows nothing of -it. The day was not observed when it first blossomed, nor when it -first bore fruit, unless by the chickadee. There was no dancing on the -green beneath it in its honor, and now there is no hand to pluck its -fruit,--which is only gnawed by squirrels, as I perceive. It has done -double duty,--not only borne this crop, but each twig has grown a foot -into the air. And this is _such_ fruit! bigger than many berries, we -must admit, and carried home will be sound and palatable next spring. -What care I for Iduna's apples so long as I can get these? - -When I go by this shrub thus late and hardy, and see its dangling -fruit, I respect the tree, and I am grateful for Nature's bounty, even -though I cannot eat it. Here on this rugged and woody hillside has -grown an apple tree, not planted by man, no relic of a former orchard, -but a natural growth, like the pines and oaks. Most fruits which we -prize and use depend entirely on our care. Corn and grain, potatoes, -peaches, melons, etc., depend altogether on our planting; but the -apple emulates man's independence and enterprise. It is not simply -carried, as I have said, but, like him, to some extent, it has -migrated to this New World, and is even, here and there, making its -way amid the aboriginal trees; just as the ox and dog and horse -sometimes run wild and maintain themselves. - - [Illustration: _Wild Apple Tree_] - -Even the sourest and crabbedest apple, growing in the most unfavorable -position, suggests such thoughts as these, it is so noble a fruit. - - -THE CRAB - -Nevertheless, _our_ wild apple is wild only like myself, perchance, -who belong not to the aboriginal race here, but have strayed into the -woods from the cultivated stock. Wilder still, as I have said, there -grows elsewhere in this country a native and aboriginal crab-apple, -_Malus coronaria_, "whose nature has not yet been modified by -cultivation." It is found from western New York to Minnesota, and -southward. Michaux says that its ordinary height "is fifteen or -eighteen feet, but it is sometimes found twenty-five or thirty feet -high," and that the large ones "exactly resemble the common apple -tree." "The flowers are white mingled with rose color, and are -collected in corymbs." They are remarkable for their delicious odor. -The fruit, according to him, is about an inch and a half in diameter, -and is intensely acid. Yet they make fine sweetmeats and also cider of -them. He concludes that "if, on being cultivated, it does not yield -new and palatable varieties, it will at least be celebrated for the -beauty of its flowers, and for the sweetness of its perfume." - -I never saw the crab-apple till May, 1861. I had heard of it through -Michaux, but more modern botanists, so far as I know, have not -treated it as of any peculiar importance. Thus it was a half-fabulous -tree to me. I contemplated a pilgrimage to the "Glades," a portion of -Pennsylvania where it was said to grow to perfection. I thought of -sending to a nursery for it, but doubted if they had it, or would -distinguish it from European varieties. At last I had occasion to go -to Minnesota, and on entering Michigan I began to notice from the cars -a tree with handsome rose-colored flowers. At first I thought it some -variety of thorn; but it was not long before the truth flashed on me, -that this was my long-sought crab-apple. It was the prevailing -flowering shrub or tree to be seen from the cars at that season of the -year,--about the middle of May. But the cars never stopped before one, -and so I was launched on the bosom of the Mississippi without having -touched one, experiencing the fate of Tantalus. On arriving at St. -Anthony's Falls, I was sorry to be told that I was too far north for -the crab-apple. Nevertheless I succeeded in finding it about eight -miles west of the Falls; touched it and smelled it, and secured a -lingering corymb of flowers for my herbarium. This must have been near -its northern limit. - - -HOW THE WILD APPLE GROWS - -But though these are indigenous, like the Indians, I doubt whether -they are any hardier than those backwoodsmen among the apple trees, -which, though descended from cultivated stocks, plant themselves in -distant fields and forests, where the soil is favorable to them. I -know of no trees which have more difficulties to contend with, and -which more sturdily resist their foes. These are the ones whose story -we have to tell. It oftentimes reads thus:-- - -Near the beginning of May, we notice little thickets of apple trees -just springing up in the pastures where cattle have been,--as the -rocky ones of our Easterbrooks Country, or the top of Nobscot Hill, in -Sudbury. One or two of these, perhaps, survive the drought and other -accidents,--their very birthplace defending them against the -encroaching grass and some other dangers, at first. - - In two years' time 't had thus - Reached the level of the rocks, - Admired the stretching world, - Nor feared the wandering flocks. - - But at this tender age - Its sufferings began: - There came a browsing ox - And cut it down a span. - -This time, perhaps, the ox does not notice it amid the grass; but the -next year, when it has grown more stout, he recognizes it for a -fellow-emigrant from the old country, the flavor of whose leaves and -twigs he well knows; and though at first he pauses to welcome it, and -express his surprise, and gets for answer, "The same cause that -brought you here brought me," he nevertheless browses it again, -reflecting, it may be, that he has some title to it. - -Thus cut down annually, it does not despair; but, putting forth two -short twigs for every one cut off, it spreads out low along the ground -in the hollows or between the rocks, growing more stout and scrubby, -until it forms, not a tree as yet, but a little pyramidal, stiff, -twiggy mass, almost as solid and impenetrable as a rock. Some of the -densest and most impenetrable clumps of bushes that I have ever seen, -as well on account of the closeness and stubbornness of their branches -as of their thorns, have been these wild apple scrubs. They are more -like the scrubby fir and black spruce on which you stand, and -sometimes walk, on the tops of mountains, where cold is the demon they -contend with, than anything else. No wonder they are prompted to grow -thorns at last, to defend themselves against such foes. In their -thorniness, however, there is no malice, only some malic acid. - -The rocky pastures of the tract I have referred to--for they maintain -their ground best in a rocky field--are thickly sprinkled with these -little tufts, reminding you often of some rigid gray mosses or -lichens, and you see thousands of little trees just springing up -between them, with the seed still attached to them. - -Being regularly clipped all around each year by the cows, as a hedge -with shears, they are often of a perfect conical or pyramidal form, -from one to four feet high, and more or less sharp, as if trimmed by -the gardener's art. In the pastures on Nobscot Hill and its spurs, -they make fine dark shadows when the sun is low. They are also an -excellent covert from hawks for many small birds that roost and build -in them. Whole flocks perch in them at night, and I have seen three -robins' nests in one which was six feet in diameter. - -No doubt many of these are already old trees, if you reckon from the -day they were planted, but infants still when you consider their -development and the long life before them. I counted the annual rings -of some which were just one foot high, and as wide as high, and found -that they were about twelve years old, but quite sound and thrifty! -They were so low that they were unnoticed by the walker, while many of -their contemporaries from the nurseries were already bearing -considerable crops. But what you gain in time is perhaps in this case, -too, lost in power,--that is, in the vigor of the tree. This is their -pyramidal state. - -The cows continue to browse them thus for twenty years or more, -keeping them down and compelling them to spread, until at last they -are so broad that they become their own fence, when some interior -shoot, which their foes cannot reach, darts upward with joy: for it -has not forgotten its high calling, and bears its own peculiar fruit -in triumph. - -Such are the tactics by which it finally defeats its bovine foes. Now, -if you have watched the progress of a particular shrub, you will see -that it is no longer a simple pyramid or cone, but that out of its -apex there rises a sprig or two, growing more lustily perchance than -an orchard-tree, since the plant now devotes the whole of its -repressed energy to these upright parts. In a short time these become -a small tree, an inverted pyramid resting on the apex of the other, so -that the whole has now the form of a vast hour-glass. The spreading -bottom, having served its purpose, finally disappears, and the -generous tree permits the now harmless cows to come in and stand in -its shade, and rub against and redden its trunk, which has grown in -spite of them, and even to taste a part of its fruit, and so disperse -the seed. - -Thus the cows create their own shade and food; and the tree, its -hour-glass being inverted, lives a second life, as it were. - -It is an important question with some nowadays, whether you should -trim young apple trees as high as your nose or as high as your eyes. -The ox trims them up as high as he can reach, and that is about the -right height, I think. - -In spite of wandering kine, and other adverse circumstances, that -despised shrub, valued only by small birds as a covert and shelter -from hawks, has its blossom week at last, and in course of time its -harvest, sincere, though small. - -By the end of some October, when its leaves have fallen, I frequently -see such a central sprig, whose progress I have watched, when I -thought it had forgotten its destiny, as I had, bearing its first crop -of small green or yellow or rosy fruit, which the cows cannot get at -over the bushy and thorny hedge which surrounds it, and I make haste -to taste the new and undescribed variety. We have all heard of the -numerous varieties of fruit invented by Van Mons and Knight. This is -the system of Van Cow, and she has invented far more and more -memorable varieties than both of them. - -Through what hardships it may attain to bear a sweet fruit! Though -somewhat small, it may prove equal, if not superior, in flavor to that -which has grown in a garden,--will perchance be all the sweeter and -more palatable for the very difficulties it has had to contend with. -Who knows but this chance wild fruit, planted by a cow or a bird on -some remote and rocky hillside, where it is as yet unobserved by man, -may be the choicest of all its kind, and foreign potentates shall hear -of it, and royal societies seek to propagate it, though the virtues of -the perhaps truly crabbed owner of the soil may never be heard of,--at -least, beyond the limits of his village? It was thus the Porter and -the Baldwin grew. - -Every wild apple shrub excites our expectation thus, somewhat as every -wild child. It is, perhaps, a prince in disguise. What a lesson to -man! So are human beings, referred to the highest standard, the -celestial fruit which they suggest and aspire to bear, browsed on by -fate; and only the most persistent and strongest genius defends itself -and prevails, sends a tender scion upward at last, and drops its -perfect fruit on the ungrateful earth. Poets and philosophers and -statesmen thus spring up in the country pastures, and outlast the -hosts of unoriginal men. - -Such is always the pursuit of knowledge. The celestial fruits, the -golden apples of the Hesperides, are ever guarded by a hundred-headed -dragon which never sleeps, so that it is an Herculean labor to pluck -them. - -This is one, and the most remarkable way in which the wild apple is -propagated; but commonly it springs up at wide intervals in woods and -swamp, and by the sides of roads, as the soil may suit it, and grows -with comparative rapidity. Those which grow in dense woods are very -tall and slender. I frequently pluck from these trees a perfectly -mild and tamed fruit. As Palladius says, "_Et injussu consternitur -ubere mali_:" And the ground is strewn with the fruit of an unbidden -apple tree. - -It is an old notion that, if these wild trees do not bear a valuable -fruit of their own, they are the best stocks by which to transmit to -posterity the most highly prized qualities of others. However, I am -not in search of stocks, but the wild fruit itself, whose fierce gust -has suffered no "inteneration." It is not my - - "highest plot - To plant the Bergamot." - - -THE FRUIT, AND ITS FLAVOR - -The time for wild apples is the last of October and the first of -November. They then get to be palatable, for they ripen late, and they -are still perhaps as beautiful as ever. I make a great account of -these fruits, which the farmers do not think it worth the while to -gather,--wild flavors of the Muse, vivacious and inspiriting. The -farmer thinks that he has better in his barrels, but he is mistaken, -unless he has a walker's appetite and imagination, neither of which -can he have. - -Such as grow quite wild, and are left out till the first of November, -I presume that the owner does not mean to gather. They belong to -children as wild as themselves,--to certain active boys that I -know,--to the wild-eyed woman of the fields, to whom nothing comes -amiss, who gleans after all the world, and, moreover, to us walkers. -We have met with them, and they are ours. These rights, long enough -insisted upon, have come to be an institution in some old countries, -where they have learned how to live. I hear that "the custom of -grippling, which may be called apple-gleaning, is, or was formerly, -practiced in Herefordshire. It consists in leaving a few apples, which -are called the gripples, on every tree, after the general gathering, -for the boys, who go with climbing-poles and bags to collect them." - -As for those I speak of, I pluck them as a wild fruit, native to this -quarter of the earth,--fruit of old trees that have been dying ever -since I was a boy and are not yet dead, frequented only by the -woodpecker and the squirrel, deserted now by the owner, who has not -faith enough to look under their boughs. From the appearance of the -tree-top, at a little distance, you would expect nothing but lichens -to drop from it, but your faith is rewarded by finding the ground -strewn with spirited fruit,--some of it, perhaps, collected at -squirrel-holes, with the marks of their teeth by which they carried -them,--some containing a cricket or two silently feeding within, and -some, especially in damp days, a shell-less snail. The very sticks and -stones lodged in the tree-top might have convinced you of the -savoriness of the fruit which has been so eagerly sought after in past -years. - -I have seen no account of these among the "Fruits and Fruit-Trees of -America," though they are more memorable to my taste than the grafted -kinds; more racy and wild American flavors do they possess when -October and November, when December and January, and perhaps February -and March even, have assuaged them somewhat. An old farmer in my -neighborhood, who always selects the right word, says that "they have -a kind of bow-arrow tang." - -Apples for grafting appear to have been selected commonly, not so much -for their spirited flavor, as for their mildness, their size, and -bearing qualities,--not so much for their beauty, as for their -fairness and soundness. Indeed, I have no faith in the selected lists -of pomological gentlemen. Their "Favorites" and "None-suches" and -"Seek-no-farthers," when I have fruited them, commonly turn out very -tame and forgettable. They are eaten with comparatively little zest, -and have no real _tang_ nor _smack_ to them. - -What if some of these wildings are acrid and puckery, genuine -_verjuice_, do they not still belong to the _Pomaceæ_, which are -uniformly innocent and kind to our race? I still begrudge them to the -cider-mill. Perhaps they are not fairly ripe yet. - -No wonder that these small and high-colored apples are thought to make -the best cider. Loudon quotes from the "Herefordshire Report," that -"apples of a small size are always, if equal in quality, to be -preferred to those of a larger size, in order that the rind and kernel -may bear the greatest proportion to the pulp, which affords the -weakest and most watery juice." And he says that, "to prove this, Dr. -Symonds, of Hereford, about the year 1800, made one hogshead of cider -entirely from the rinds and cores of apples, and another from the pulp -only, when the first was found of extraordinary strength and flavor, -while the latter was sweet and insipid." - -Evelyn says that the "Red-strake" was the favorite cider-apple in his -day; and he quotes one Dr. Newburg as saying, "In Jersey 'tis a -general observation, as I hear, that the more of red any apple has in -its rind, the more proper it is for this use. Pale-faced apples they -exclude as much as may be from their cider-vat." This opinion still -prevails. - -All apples are good in November. Those which the farmer leaves out as -unsalable and unpalatable to those who frequent the markets are -choicest fruit to the walker. But it is remarkable that the wild apple, -which I praise as so spirited and racy when eaten in the fields or -woods, being brought into the house has frequently a harsh and crabbed -taste. The Saunterer's Apple not even the saunterer can eat in the -house. The palate rejects it there, as it does haws and acorns, and -demands a tamed one; for there you miss the November air, which is the -sauce it is to be eaten with. Accordingly, when Tityrus, seeing the -lengthening shadows, invites Meliboeus to go home and pass the night -with him, he promises him _mild_ apples and soft chestnuts,--_mitia -poma_, _castaneæ molles_. I frequently pluck wild apples of so rich -and spicy a flavor that I wonder all orchardists do not get a scion -from that tree, and I fail not to bring home my pockets full. But -perchance, when I take one out of my desk and taste it in my chamber, -I find it unexpectedly crude,--sour enough to set a squirrel's teeth -on edge and make a jay scream. - -These apples have hung in the wind and frost and rain till they have -absorbed the qualities of the weather or season, and thus are highly -_seasoned_, and they _pierce_ and _sting_ and _permeate_ us with their -spirit. They must be eaten in _season_, accordingly,--that is, -out-of-doors. - -To appreciate the wild and sharp flavors of these October fruits, it -is necessary that you be breathing the sharp October or November air. -The outdoor air and exercise which the walker gets give a different -tone to his palate, and he craves a fruit which the sedentary would -call harsh and crabbed. They must be eaten in the fields, when your -system is all aglow with exercise, when the frosty weather nips your -fingers, the wind rattles the bare boughs or rustles the few remaining -leaves, and the jay is heard screaming around. What is sour in the -house a bracing walk makes sweet. Some of these apples might be -labeled, "To be eaten in the wind." - -Of course no flavors are thrown away; they are intended for the taste -that is up to them. Some apples have two distinct flavors, and perhaps -one half of them must be eaten in the house, the other outdoors. One -Peter Whitney wrote from Northborough in 1782, for the Proceedings of -the Boston Academy, describing an apple tree in that town "producing -fruit of opposite qualities, part of the same apple being frequently -sour and the other sweet;" also some all sour, and others all sweet, -and this diversity on all parts of the tree. - -There is a wild apple on Nawshawtuct Hill in my town which has to me a -peculiarly pleasant bitter tang, not perceived till it is -three-quarters tasted. It remains on the tongue. As you eat it, it -smells exactly like a squash-bug. It is a sort of triumph to eat and -relish it. - -I hear that the fruit of a kind of plum tree in Provence is "called -_Prunes sibarelles_, because it is impossible to whistle after having -eaten them, from their sourness." But perhaps they were only eaten in -the house and in summer, and if tried out-of-doors in a stinging -atmosphere, who knows but you could whistle an octave higher and -clearer? - -In the fields only are the sours and bitters of Nature appreciated; -just as the woodchopper eats his meal in a sunny glade, in the middle -of a winter day, with content, basks in a sunny ray there, and dreams -of summer in a degree of cold which, experienced in a chamber, would -make a student miserable. They who are at work abroad are not cold, -but rather it is they who sit shivering in houses. As with -temperatures, so with flavors; as with cold and heat, so with sour and -sweet. This natural raciness, the sours and bitters which the diseased -palate refuses, are the true condiments. - -Let your condiments be in the condition of your senses. To appreciate -the flavor of these wild apples requires vigorous and healthy senses, -_papillæ_ firm and erect on the tongue and palate, not easily -flattened and tamed. - -From my experience with wild apples, I can understand that there may -be reason for a savage's preferring many kinds of food which the -civilized man rejects. The former has the palate of an outdoor man. It -takes a savage or wild taste to appreciate a wild fruit. - -What a healthy out-of-door appetite it takes to relish the apple of -life, the apple of the world, then! - - "Nor is it every apple I desire, - Nor that which pleases every palate best; - 'Tis not the lasting Deuxan I require, - Nor yet the red-cheeked Greening I request, - Nor that which first beshrewed the name of wife, - Nor that whose beauty caused the golden strife: - No, no! bring me an apple from the tree of life." - -So there is one _thought_ for the field, another for the house. I -would have my thoughts, like wild apples, to be food for walkers, and -will not warrant them to be palatable if tasted in the house. - - -THEIR BEAUTY - -Almost all wild apples are handsome. They cannot be too gnarly and -crabbed and rusty to look at. The gnarliest will have some redeeming -traits even to the eye. You will discover some evening redness dashed -or sprinkled on some protuberance or in some cavity. It is rare that -the summer lets an apple go without streaking or spotting it on some -part of its sphere. It will have some red stains, commemorating the -mornings and evenings it has witnessed; some dark and rusty blotches, -in memory of the clouds and foggy, mildewy days that have passed over -it; and a spacious field of green reflecting the general face of -nature,--green even as the fields; or a yellow ground, which implies a -milder flavor,--yellow as the harvest, or russet as the hills. - -Apples, these I mean, unspeakably fair,--apples not of Discord, but of -Concord! Yet not so rare but that the homeliest may have a share. -Painted by the frosts, some a uniform clear bright yellow, or red, or -crimson, as if their spheres had regularly revolved, and enjoyed the -influence of the sun on all sides alike,--some with the faintest pink -blush imaginable,--some brindled with deep red streaks like a cow, or -with hundreds of fine blood-red rays running regularly from the -stem-dimple to the blossom end, like meridional lines, on a -straw-colored ground,--some touched with a greenish rust, like a fine -lichen, here and there, with crimson blotches or eyes more or less -confluent and fiery when wet,--and others gnarly, and freckled or -peppered all over on the stem side with fine crimson spots on a white -ground, as if accidentally sprinkled from the brush of Him who paints -the autumn leaves. Others, again, are sometimes red inside, perfused -with a beautiful blush, fairy food, too beautiful to eat,--apple of -the Hesperides, apple of the evening sky! But like shells and pebbles -on the seashore, they must be seen as they sparkle amid the withering -leaves in some dell in the woods, in the autumnal air, or as they lie -in the wet grass, and not when they have wilted and faded in the -house. - - -THE NAMING OF THEM - -It would be a pleasant pastime to find suitable names for the hundred -varieties which go to a single heap at the cider-mill. Would it not -tax a man's invention,--no one to be named after a man, and all in the -_lingua vernacula_? Who shall stand godfather at the christening of -the wild apples? It would exhaust the Latin and Greek languages, if -they were used, and make the _lingua vernacula_ flag. We should have -to call in the sunrise and the sunset, the rainbow and the autumn -woods and the wild-flowers, and the woodpecker and the purple finch -and the squirrel and the jay and the butterfly, the November traveler -and the truant boy, to our aid. - -In 1836 there were in the garden of the London Horticultural Society -more than fourteen hundred distinct sorts. But here are species which -they have not in their catalogue, not to mention the varieties which -our crab might yield to cultivation. - -Let us enumerate a few of these. I find myself compelled, after all, -to give the Latin names of some for the benefit of those who live -where English is not spoken,--for they are likely to have a world-wide -reputation. - -There is, first of all, the Wood Apple (_Malus sylvatica_); the -Blue-Jay Apple; the Apple which grows in Dells in the Woods -(_sylvestrivallis_), also in Hollows in Pastures (_campestrivallis_); -the Apple that grows in an old Cellar-Hole (_Malus cellaris_); the -Meadow Apple; the Partridge Apple; the Truant's Apple (_cessatoris_), -which no boy will ever go by without knocking off some, however _late_ -it may be; the Saunterer's Apple,--you must lose yourself before you -can find the way to that; the Beauty of the Air (_decus aëris_); -December-Eating; the Frozen-Thawed (_gelato-soluta_), good only in -that state; the Concord Apple, possibly the same with the -_Musketaquidensis_; the Assabet Apple; the Brindled Apple; Wine of New -England; the Chickaree Apple; the Green Apple (_Malus viridis_),--this -has many synonyms: in an imperfect state, it is the _choleramorbifera -aut dysenterifera_, _puerulis dilectissima_; the Apple which Atalanta -stopped to pick up; the Hedge Apple (_Malus sepium_); the Slug Apple -(_limacea_); the Railroad Apple, which perhaps came from a core thrown -out of the cars; the Apple whose Fruit we tasted in our Youth; our -Particular Apple, not to be found in any catalogue; _pedestrium -solatium_; also the Apple where hangs the Forgotten Scythe; Iduna's -Apples, and the Apples which Loki found in the Wood; and a great many -more I have on my list, too numerous to mention,--all of them good. As -Bodæus exclaims, referring to the cultivated kinds, and adapting -Virgil to his case, so I, adapting Bodæus,-- - - "Not if I had a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths, - An iron voice, could I describe all the forms - And reckon up all the names of these _wild apples_." - - -THE LAST GLEANING - -By the middle of November the wild apples have lost some of their -brilliancy, and have chiefly fallen. A great part are decayed on the -ground, and the sound ones are more palatable than before. The note of -the chickadee sounds now more distinct, as you wander amid the old -trees, and the autumnal dandelion is half closed and tearful. But -still, if you are a skillful gleaner, you may get many a pocketful -even of grafted fruit, long after apples are supposed to be gone -out-of-doors. I know a Blue Pearmain tree, growing within the edge of -a swamp, almost as good as wild. You would not suppose that there was -any fruit left there, on the first survey, but you must look according -to system. Those which lie exposed are quite brown and rotten now, or -perchance a few still show one blooming cheek here and there amid the -wet leaves. Nevertheless, with experienced eyes, I explore amid the -bare alders and the huckleberry bushes and the withered sedge, and in -the crevices of the rocks, which are full of leaves, and pry under -the fallen and decaying ferns, which, with apple and alder leaves, -thickly strew the ground. For I know that they lie concealed, fallen -into hollows long since and covered up by the leaves of the tree -itself,--a proper kind of packing. From these lurking-places, anywhere -within the circumference of the tree, I draw forth the fruit, all wet -and glossy, maybe nibbled by rabbits and hollowed out by crickets, and -perhaps with a leaf or two cemented to it (as Curzon an old manuscript -from a monastery's mouldy cellar), but still with a rich bloom on it, -and at least as ripe and well-kept, if not better than those in -barrels, more crisp and lively than they. If these resources fail to -yield anything, I have learned to look between the bases of the -suckers which spring thickly from some horizontal limb, for now and -then one lodges there, or in the very midst of an alder-clump, where -they are covered by leaves, safe from cows which may have smelled them -out. If I am sharp-set, for I do not refuse the Blue Pearmain, I fill -my pockets on each side; and as I retrace my steps in the frosty eve, -being perhaps four or five miles from home, I eat one first from this -side, and then from that, to keep my balance. - -I learn from Topsell's Gesner, whose authority appears to be Albertus, -that the following is the way in which the hedgehog collects and -carries home his apples. He says,--"His meat is apples, worms, or -grapes: when he findeth apples or grapes on the earth, he rolleth -himself upon them, until he have filled all his prickles, and then -carrieth them home to his den, never bearing above one in his mouth; -and if it fortune that one of them fall off by the way, he likewise -shaketh off all the residue, and walloweth upon them afresh, until -they be all settled upon his back again. So, forth he goeth, making a -noise like a cart-wheel; and if he have any young ones in his nest, -they pull off his load wherewithal he is loaded, eating thereof what -they please, and laying up the residue for the time to come." - - -THE "FROZEN-THAWED" APPLE - -Toward the end of November, though some of the sound ones are yet more -mellow and perhaps more edible, they have generally, like the leaves, -lost their beauty, and are beginning to freeze. It is finger-cold, and -prudent farmers get in their barreled apples, and bring you the apples -and cider which they have engaged; for it is time to put them into the -cellar. Perhaps a few on the ground show their red cheeks above the -early snow, and occasionally some even preserve their color and -soundness under the snow throughout the winter. But generally at the -beginning of the winter they freeze hard, and soon, though undecayed, -acquire the color of a baked apple. - -Before the end of December, generally, they experience their first -thawing. Those which a month ago were sour, crabbed, and quite -unpalatable to the civilized taste, such at least as were frozen while -sound, let a warmer sun come to thaw them,--for they are extremely -sensitive to its rays,--are found to be filled with a rich, sweet -cider, better than any bottled cider that I know of, and with which I -am better acquainted than with wine. All apples are good in this -state, and your jaws are the cider-press. Others, which have more -substance, are a sweet and luscious food,--in my opinion of more worth -than the pineapples which are imported from the West Indies. Those -which lately even I tasted only to repent of it,--for I am -semicivilized,--which the farmer willingly left on the tree, I am now -glad to find have the property of hanging on like the leaves of the -young oaks. It is a way to keep cider sweet without boiling. Let the -frost come to freeze them first, solid as stones, and then the rain or -a warm winter day to thaw them, and they will seem to have borrowed a -flavor from heaven through the medium of the air in which they hang. -Or perchance you find, when you get home, that those which rattled in -your pocket have thawed, and the ice is turned to cider. But after the -third or fourth freezing and thawing they will not be found so good. - -What are the imported half-ripe fruits of the torrid south, to this -fruit matured by the cold of the frigid north? These are those crabbed -apples with which I cheated my companion, and kept a smooth face that -I might tempt him to eat. Now we both greedily fill our pockets with -them,--bending to drink the cup and save our lappets from the -overflowing juice,--and grow more social with their wine. Was there -one that hung so high and sheltered by the tangled branches that our -sticks could not dislodge it? - -It is a fruit never carried to market, that I am aware of,--quite -distinct from the apple of the markets, as from dried apple and -cider,--and it is not every winter that produces it in perfection. - -The era of the Wild Apple will soon be past. It is a fruit which will -probably become extinct in New England. You may still wander through -old orchards of native fruit of great extent, which for the most part -went to the cider-mill, now all gone to decay. I have heard of an -orchard in a distant town, on the side of a hill, where the apples -rolled down and lay four feet deep against a wall on the lower side, -and this the owner cut down for fear they should be made into cider. -Since the temperance reform and the general introduction of grafted -fruit, no native apple trees, such as I see everywhere in deserted -pastures, and where the woods have grown up around them, are set out. -I fear that he who walks over these fields a century hence will not -know the pleasure of knocking off wild apples. Ah, poor man, there are -many pleasures which he will not know! Notwithstanding the prevalence -of the Baldwin and the Porter, I doubt if so extensive orchards are -set out to-day in my town as there were a century ago, when those vast -straggling cider-orchards were planted, when men both ate and drank -apples, when the pomace-heap was the only nursery, and trees cost -nothing but the trouble of setting them out. Men could afford then to -stick a tree by every wall-side and let it take its chance. I see -nobody planting trees to-day in such out of the way places, along the -lonely roads and lanes, and at the bottom of dells in the wood. Now -that they have grafted trees, and pay a price for them, they collect -them into a plat by their houses, and fence them in,--and the end of -it all will be that we shall be compelled to look for our apples in a -barrel. - -This is "The word of the Lord that came to Joel the son of Pethuel. - -"Hear this, ye old men, and give ear, all ye inhabitants of the land! -Hath this been in your days, or even in the days of your fathers?... - -"That which the palmerworm hath left hath the locust eaten; and that -which the locust hath left hath the cankerworm eaten; and that which -the cankerworm hath left hath the caterpillar eaten. - -"Awake, ye drunkards, and weep; and howl, all ye drinkers of wine, -because of the new wine; for it is cut off from your mouth. - -"For a nation is come up upon my land, strong, and without number, -whose teeth are the teeth of a lion, and he hath the cheek teeth of a -great lion. - -"He hath laid my vine waste, and barked my fig tree: he hath made it -clean bare, and cast it away; the branches thereof are made white.... - -"Be ye ashamed, O ye husbandmen; howl, O ye vinedressers.... - -"The vine is dried up, and the fig tree languisheth; the pomegranate -tree, the palm tree also, and the apple tree, even all the trees of -the field, are withered: because joy is withered away from the sons of -men." - - - - -NIGHT AND MOONLIGHT - - -Chancing to take a memorable walk by moonlight some years ago, I -resolved to take more such walks, and make acquaintance with another -side of nature: I have done so. - -According to Pliny, there is a stone in Arabia called Selenites, -"wherein is a white, which increases and decreases with the moon." My -journal for the last year or two has been _selenitic_ in this sense. - -Is not the midnight like Central Africa to most of us? Are we not -tempted to explore it,--to penetrate to the shores of its Lake Tchad, -and discover the source of its Nile, perchance the Mountains of the -Moon? Who knows what fertility and beauty, moral and natural, are -there to be found? In the Mountains of the Moon, in the Central Africa -of the night, there is where all Niles have their hidden heads. The -expeditions up the Nile as yet extend but to the Cataracts, or -perchance to the mouth of the White Nile; but it is the Black Nile -that concerns us. - -I shall be a benefactor if I conquer some realms from the night, if I -report to the gazettes anything transpiring about us at that season -worthy of their attention,--if I can show men that there is some -beauty awake while they are asleep,--if I add to the domains of -poetry. - -Night is certainly more novel and less profane than day. I soon -discovered that I was acquainted only with its complexion, and as for -the moon, I had seen her only as it were through a crevice in a -shutter, occasionally. Why not walk a little way in her light? - -Suppose you attend to the suggestions which the moon makes for one -month, commonly in vain, will it not be very different from anything -in literature or religion? But why not study this Sanskrit? What if -one moon has come and gone with its world of poetry, its weird -teachings, its oracular suggestions,--so divine a creature freighted -with hints for me, and I have not used her? One moon gone by -unnoticed? - -I think it was Dr. Chalmers who said, criticising Coleridge, that for -his part he wanted ideas which he could see all round, and not such as -he must look at away up in the heavens. Such a man, one would say, -would never look at the moon, because she never turns her other side -to us. The light which comes from ideas which have their orbit as -distant from the earth, and which is no less cheering and enlightening -to the benighted traveler than that of the moon and stars, is -naturally reproached or nicknamed as moonshine by such. They are -moonshine, are they? Well, then, do your night traveling when there is -no moon to light you; but I will be thankful for the light that -reaches me from the star of least magnitude. Stars are lesser or -greater only as they appear to us so. I will be thankful that I see so -much as one side of a celestial idea, one side of the rainbow and the -sunset sky. - -Men talk glibly enough about moonshine, as if they knew its qualities -very well, and despised them; as owls might talk of sunshine,--none of -your sunshine!--but this word commonly means merely something which -they do not understand,--which they are abed and asleep to, however -much it may be worth their while to be up and awake to it. - -It must be allowed that the light of the moon, sufficient though it is -for the pensive walker, and not disproportionate to the inner light we -have, is very inferior in quality and intensity to that of the sun. -But the moon is not to be judged alone by the quantity of light she -sends to us, but also by her influence on the earth and its -inhabitants. "The moon gravitates toward the earth, and the earth -reciprocally toward the moon." The poet who walks by moonlight is -conscious of a tide in his thought which is to be referred to lunar -influence. I will endeavor to separate the tide in my thoughts from -the current distractions of the day. I would warn my hearers that they -must not try my thoughts by a daylight standard, but endeavor to -realize that I speak out of the night. All depends on your point of -view. In Drake's "Collection of Voyages," Wafer says of some albinos -among the Indians of Darien: "They are quite white, but their -whiteness is like that of a horse, quite different from the fair or -pale European, as they have not the least tincture of a blush or -sanguine complexion.... Their eyebrows are milk-white, as is likewise -the hair of their heads, which is very fine.... They seldom go abroad -in the daytime, the sun being disagreeable to them, and causing their -eyes, which are weak and poring, to water, especially if it shines -towards them, yet they see very well by moonlight, from which we call -them moon-eyed." - -Neither in our thoughts in these moonlight walks, methinks, is there -"the least tincture of a blush or sanguine complexion," but we are -intellectually and morally albinos, children of Endymion, such is the -effect of conversing much with the moon. - -I complain of arctic voyagers that they do not enough remind us of the -constant peculiar dreariness of the scenery, and the perpetual -twilight of the arctic night. So he whose theme is moonlight, though -he may find it difficult, must, as it were, illustrate it with the -light of the moon alone. - -Many men walk by day; few walk by night. It is a very different -season. Take a July night, for instance. About ten o'clock,--when man -is asleep, and day fairly forgotten,--the beauty of moonlight is seen -over lonely pastures where cattle are silently feeding. On all sides -novelties present themselves. Instead of the sun there are the moon -and stars; instead of the wood thrush there is the whip-poor-will; -instead of butterflies in the meadows, fireflies, winged sparks of -fire! who would have believed it? What kind of cool deliberate life -dwells in those dewy abodes associated with a spark of fire? So man -has fire in his eyes, or blood, or brain. Instead of singing birds, -the half-throttled note of a cuckoo flying over, the croaking of -frogs, and the intenser dream of crickets. But above all, the -wonderful trump of the bullfrog, ringing from Maine to Georgia. The -potato vines stand upright, the corn grows apace, the bushes loom, the -grain-fields are boundless. On our open river terraces once cultivated -by the Indian, they appear to occupy the ground like an army, their -heads nodding in the breeze. Small trees and shrubs are seen in the -midst overwhelmed as by an inundation. The shadows of rocks and trees, -and shrubs and hills, are more conspicuous than the objects -themselves. The slightest irregularities in the ground are revealed by -the shadows, and what the feet find comparatively smooth appears rough -and diversified in consequence. For the same reason the whole -landscape is more variegated and picturesque than by day. The smallest -recesses in the rocks are dim and cavernous; the ferns in the wood -appear of tropical size. The sweet-fern and indigo in overgrown -wood-paths wet you with dew up to your middle. The leaves of the shrub -oak are shining as if a liquid were flowing over them. The pools seen -through the trees are as full of light as the sky. "The light of the -day takes refuge in their bosoms," as the Purana says of the ocean. -All white objects are more remarkable than by day. A distant cliff -looks like a phosphorescent space on a hillside. The woods are heavy -and dark. Nature slumbers. You see the moonlight reflected from -particular stumps in the recesses of the forest, as if she selected -what to shine on. These small fractions of her light remind one of the -plant called moonseed,--as if the moon were sowing it in such places. - -In the night the eyes are partly closed or retire into the head. Other -senses take the lead. The walker is guided as well by the sense of -smell. Every plant and field and forest emits its odor now, swamp-pink -in the meadow and tansy in the road; and there is the peculiar dry -scent of corn which has begun to show its tassels. The senses both of -hearing and smelling are more alert. We hear the tinkling of rills -which we never detected before. From time to time, high up on the -sides of hills, you pass through a stratum of warm air, a blast which -has come up from the sultry plains of noon. It tells of the day, of -sunny noontide hours and banks, of the laborer wiping his brow and the -bee humming amid flowers. It is an air in which work has been -done,--which men have breathed. It circulates about from woodside to -hillside like a dog that has lost its master, now that the sun is -gone. The rocks retain all night the warmth of the sun which they have -absorbed. And so does the sand. If you dig a few inches into it you -find a warm bed. You lie on your back on a rock in a pasture on the -top of some bare hill at midnight, and speculate on the height of the -starry canopy. The stars are the jewels of the night, and perchance -surpass anything which day has to show. A companion with whom I was -sailing one very windy but bright moonlight night, when the stars were -few and faint, thought that a man could get along with _them_, though -he was considerably reduced in his circumstances,--that they were a -kind of bread and cheese that never failed. - -No wonder that there have been astrologers, that some have conceived -that they were personally related to particular stars. Dubartas, as -translated by Sylvester, says he'll - - "not believe that the great architect - With all these fires the heavenly arches decked - Only for show, and with these glistering shields, - T' awake poor shepherds, watching in the fields." - He'll "not believe that the least flower which pranks - Our garden borders, or our common banks, - And the least stone, that in her warming lap - Our mother earth doth covetously wrap, - Hath some peculiar virtue of its own, - And that the glorious stars of heav'n have none." - -And Sir Walter Raleigh well says, "The stars are instruments of far -greater use than to give an obscure light, and for men to gaze on -after sunset;" and he quotes Plotinus as affirming that they "are -significant, but not efficient;" and also Augustine as saying, "_Deus -regit inferiora corpora per superiora_:" God rules the bodies below by -those above. But best of all is this which another writer has -expressed: "_Sapiens adjuvabit opus astrorum quemadmodum agricola -terrae naturam_:" a wise man assisteth the work of the stars as the -husbandman helpeth the nature of the soil. - -It does not concern men who are asleep in their beds, but it is very -important to the traveler, whether the moon shines brightly or is -obscured. It is not easy to realize the serene joy of all the earth, -when she commences to shine unobstructedly, unless you have often been -abroad alone in moonlight nights. She seems to be waging continual war -with the clouds in your behalf. Yet we fancy the clouds to be _her_ -foes also. She comes on magnifying her dangers by her light, -revealing, displaying them in all their hugeness and blackness, then -suddenly casts them behind into the light concealed, and goes her way -triumphant through a small space of clear sky. - -In short, the moon traversing, or appearing to traverse, the small -clouds which lie in her way, now obscured by them, now easily -dissipating and shining through them, makes the drama of the moonlight -night to all watchers and night-travelers. Sailors speak of it as the -moon eating up the clouds. The traveler all alone, the moon all alone, -except for his sympathy, overcoming with incessant victory whole -squadrons of clouds above the forests and lakes and hills. When she is -obscured he so sympathizes with her that he could whip a dog for her -relief, as Indians do. When she enters on a clear field of great -extent in the heavens, and shines unobstructedly, he is glad. And when -she has fought her way through all the squadron of her foes, and rides -majestic in a clear sky unscathed, and there are no more any -obstructions in her path, he cheerfully and confidently pursues his -way, and rejoices in his heart, and the cricket also seems to express -joy in its song. - -How insupportable would be the days, if the night with its dews and -darkness did not come to restore the drooping world. As the shades -begin to gather around us, our primeval instincts are aroused, and we -steal forth from our lairs, like the inhabitants of the jungle, in -search of those silent and brooding thoughts which are the natural -prey of the intellect. - -Richter says that "the earth is every day overspread with the veil of -night for the same reason as the cages of birds are darkened, viz., -that we may the more readily apprehend the higher harmonies of thought -in the hush and quiet of darkness. Thoughts which day turns into smoke -and mist stand about us in the night as light and flames; even as the -column which fluctuates above the crater of Vesuvius, in the daytime -appears a pillar of cloud, but by night a pillar of fire." - -There are nights in this climate of such serene and majestic beauty, -so medicinal and fertilizing to the spirit, that methinks a sensitive -nature would not devote them to oblivion, and perhaps there is no man -but would be better and wiser for spending them out-of-doors, though -he should sleep all the next day to pay for it,--should sleep an -Endymion sleep, as the ancients expressed it,--nights which warrant -the Grecian epithet ambrosial, when, as in the land of Beulah, the -atmosphere is charged with dewy fragrance, and with music, and we take -our repose and have our dreams awake,--when the moon, not secondary to -the sun,-- - - "gives us his blaze again, - Void of its flame, and sheds a softer day. - Now through the passing cloud she seems to stoop, - Now up the pure cerulean rides sublime." - -Diana still hunts in the New England sky. - - "In Heaven queen she is among the spheres. - She, mistress-like, makes all things to be pure. - Eternity in her oft change she bears; - She Beauty is; by her the fair endure. - - "Time wears her not; she doth his chariot guide; - Mortality below her orb is placed; - By her the virtues of the stars down slide; - By her is Virtue's perfect image cast." - -The Hindoos compare the moon to a saintly being who has reached the -last stage of bodily existence. - -Great restorer of antiquity, great enchanter! In a mild night when the -harvest or hunter's moon shines unobstructedly, the houses in our -village, whatever architect they may have had by day, acknowledge only -a master. The village street is then as wild as the forest. New and -old things are confounded. I know not whether I am sitting on the -ruins of a wall, or on the material which is to compose a new one. -Nature is an instructed and impartial teacher, spreading no crude -opinions, and flattering none; she will be neither radical nor -conservative. Consider the moonlight, so civil, yet so savage! - -The light is more proportionate to our knowledge than that of day. It -is no more dusky in ordinary nights than our mind's habitual -atmosphere, and the moonlight is as bright as our most illuminated -moments are. - - "In such a night let me abroad remain - Till morning breaks, and all's confused again." - -Of what significance the light of day, if it is not the reflection of -an inward dawn?--to what purpose is the veil of night withdrawn, if -the morning reveals nothing to the soul? It is merely garish and -glaring. - -When Ossian, in his address to the sun, exclaims,-- - - "Where has darkness its dwelling? - Where is the cavernous home of the stars, - When thou quickly followest their steps, - Pursuing them like a hunter in the sky,-- - Thou climbing the lofty hills, - They descending on barren mountains?" - -who does not in his thought accompany the stars to their "cavernous -home," "descending" with them "on barren mountains"? - -Nevertheless, even by night the sky is blue and not black, for we see -through the shadow of the earth into the distant atmosphere of day, -where the sunbeams are reveling. - - - - -TRANSLATIONS - - - - -THE PROMETHEUS BOUND OF ÆSCHYLUS - - -PERSONS OF THE DRAMA - - KRATOS _and_ BIA (Strength and Force). - HEPHAISTUS (Vulcan). - PROMETHEUS. - CHORUS OF OCEAN NYMPHS. - OCEANUS. - IO, _Daughter of Inachus_. - HERMES. - -KRATOS _and_ BIA, HEPHAISTUS, PROMETHEUS. - - _Kr._ We are come to the far-bounding plain of earth, - To the Scythian way, to the unapproached solitude. - Hephaistus, orders must have thy attention, - Which the Father has enjoined on thee, this bold one - To the high-hanging rocks to bind - In indissoluble fetters of adamantine bonds. - For thy flower, the splendor of fire useful in all arts, - Stealing, he bestowed on mortals; and for such - A crime 't is fit he should give satisfaction to the gods; - That he may learn the tyranny of Zeus - To love, and cease from his man-loving ways. - - _Heph._ Kratos and Bia, your charge from Zeus - Already has its end, and nothing further in the way; - But I cannot endure to bind - A kindred god by force to a bleak precipice,-- - Yet absolutely there's necessity that I have courage for - these things; - For it is hard the Father's words to banish. - High-plotting son of the right-counseling Themis, - Unwilling thee unwilling in brazen fetters hard to be loosed - I am about to nail to this inhuman hill, - Where neither voice [you'll hear], nor form of any mortal - See, but, scorched by the sun's clear flame, - Will change your color's bloom; and to you glad - The various-robed night will conceal the light, - And sun disperse the morning frost again; - And always the burden of the present ill - Will wear you; for he that will relieve you has not yet been born. - Such fruits you've reaped from your man-loving ways, - For a god, not shrinking from the wrath of gods, - You have bestowed honors on mortals more than just, - For which this pleasureless rock you'll sentinel, - Standing erect, sleepless, not bending a knee; - And many sighs and lamentations to no purpose - Will you utter; for the mind of Zeus is hard to be changed; - And he is wholly rugged who may newly rule. - - _Kr._ Well, why dost thou delay and pity in vain? - Why not hate the god most hostile to gods, - Who has betrayed thy prize to mortals? - - _Heph._ The affinity indeed is appalling, and the familiarity. - - _Kr._ I agree, but to disobey the Father's words - How is it possible? Fear you not this more? - - _Heph._ Ay, you are always without pity, and full of confidence. - - _Kr._ For 't is no remedy to bewail this one; - Cherish not vainly troubles which avail naught. - - _Heph._ O much hated handicraft! - - _Kr._ Why hatest it? for in simple truth, for these misfortunes - Which are present now Art's not to blame. - - _Heph._ Yet I would 't had fallen to another's lot. - - _Kr._ All things were done but to rule the gods, - For none is free but Zeus. - - _Heph._ I knew it, and have naught to say against these things. - - _Kr._ Will you not haste, then, to put the bonds about him, - That the Father may not observe you loitering? - - _Heph._ Already at hand the shackles you may see. - - _Kr._ Taking them, about his hands with firm strength - Strike with the hammer, and nail him to the rocks. - - _Heph._ 'T is done, and not in vain this work. - - _Kr._ Strike harder, tighten, nowhere relax, - For he is skillful to find out ways e'en from the impracticable. - - _Heph._ Ay, but this arm is fixed inextricably. - - _Kr._ And this now clasp securely, that - He may learn he is a duller schemer than is Zeus. - - _Heph._ Except him would none justly blame me. - - _Kr._ Now with an adamantine wedge's stubborn fang - Through the breasts nail strongly. - - _Heph._ Alas! alas! Prometheus, I groan for thy afflictions. - - _Kr._ And do you hesitate? for Zeus' enemies - Do you groan? Beware lest one day you yourself will pity. - - _Heph._ You see a spectacle hard for eyes to behold. - - _Kr._ I see him meeting his deserts; - But round his sides put straps. - - _Heph._ To do this is necessity, insist not much. - - _Kr._ Surely I will insist and urge beside; - Go downward, and the thighs surround with force. - - _Heph._ Already it is done, the work, with no long labor. - - _Kr._ Strongly now drive the fetters, through and through, - For the critic of the works is difficult. - - _Heph._ Like your form your tongue speaks. - - _Kr._ Be thou softened, but for my stubbornness - Of temper and harshness reproach me not. - - _Heph._ Let us withdraw, for he has a net about his limbs. - - _Kr._ There now insult, and the shares of gods - Plundering on ephemerals bestow; what thee - Can mortals in these ills relieve? - Falsely thee the divinities Prometheus - Call; for you yourself need one _foreseeing_ - In what manner you will escape this fortune. - -PROMETHEUS, _alone_. - - O divine ether, and ye swift-winged winds, - Fountains of rivers, and countless smilings - Of the ocean waves, and earth, mother of all, - And thou all-seeing orb of the sun I call. - Behold me what a god I suffer at the hands of gods. - See by what outrages - Tormented the myriad-yeared - Time I shall endure; such the new - Ruler of the blessed has contrived for me, - Unseemly bonds. - Alas! alas! the present and the coming - Woe I groan; where ever of these sufferings - Must an end appear. - But what say I? I know beforehand all, - Exactly what will be, nor to me strange - Will any evil come. The destined fate - As easily as possible it behooves to bear, knowing - Necessity's is a resistless strength. - But neither to be silent nor unsilent about this - Lot is possible for me; for a gift to mortals - Giving, I wretched have been yoked to these necessities; - Within a hollow reed by stealth I carry off fire's - Stolen source, which seemed the teacher - Of all art to mortals, and a great resource. - For such crimes penalty I pay, - Under the sky, riveted in chains. - Ah! ah! alas! alas! - What echo, what odor has flown to me obscure, - Of god, or mortal, or else mingled,-- - Came it to this terminal hill - A witness of my sufferings, or wishing what? - Behold bound me an unhappy god, - The enemy of Zeus, fallen under - The ill will of all the gods, as many as - Enter into the hall of Zeus, - Through too great love of mortals. - Alas! alas! what fluttering do I hear - Of birds near? for the air rustles - With the soft rippling of wings. - Everything to me is fearful which creeps this way. - -PROMETHEUS _and_ CHORUS. - - _Ch._ Fear nothing; for friendly this band - Of wings with swift contention - Drew to this hill, hardly - Persuading the paternal mind. - The swift-carrying breezes sent me; - For the echo of beaten steel pierced the recesses - Of the caves, and struck out from me reserved modesty; - And I rushed unsandaled in a winged chariot. - - _Pr._ Alas! alas! alas! alas! - Offspring of the fruitful Tethys, - And of him rolling around all - The earth with sleepless stream children, - Of Father Ocean; behold, look on me; - By what bonds embraced - On this cliff's topmost rocks - I shall maintain unenvied watch. - - _Ch._ I see, Prometheus; but to my eyes a fearful - Mist has come surcharged - With tears, looking upon thy body - Shrunk to the rocks - By these mischiefs of adamantine bonds; - Indeed, new helmsmen rule Olympus; - And with new laws Zeus strengthens himself, annulling the old, - And the before great now makes unknown. - - _Pr._ Would that under earth, and below Hades, - Receptacle of dead, to impassable - Tartarus he had sent me, to bonds indissoluble - Cruelly conducting, that neither god - Nor any other had rejoiced at this. - But now the sport of winds, unhappy one, - A source of pleasure to my foes, I suffer. - - _Ch._ Who so hard-hearted - Of the gods, to whom these things are pleasant? - Who does not sympathize with thy - Misfortunes, excepting Zeus? for he in wrath always - Fixing his stubborn mind, - Afflicts the heavenly race; - Nor will he cease, until his heart is sated; - Or with some palm some one may take the power hard to be taken. - - _Pr._ Surely yet, though in strong - Fetters I am now maltreated, - The ruler of the blessed will have need of me, - To show the new conspiracy by which - He's robbed of sceptre and of honors, - And not at all me with persuasion's honey-tongued - Charms will he appease, nor ever, - Shrinking from his firm threats, will I - Declare this, till from cruel - Bonds he may release, and to do justice - For this outrage be willing. - - _Ch._ You are bold; and to bitter - Woes do nothing yield, - But too freely speak. - But my mind piercing fear disturbs; - For I'm concerned about thy fortunes, - Where at length arriving you may see - An end to these afflictions. For manners - Inaccessible, and a heart hard to be dissuaded has the son - of Kronos. - - _Pr._ I know, that--Zeus is stern and having - Justice to himself. But after all - Gentle-minded - He will one day be, when thus he's crushed, - And his stubborn wrath allaying, - Into agreement with me and friendliness - Earnest to me earnest he at length will come. - - _Ch._ The whole account disclose and tell us plainly, - In what crime taking you Zeus - Thus disgracefully and bitterly insults; - Inform us, if you are nowise hurt by the recital. - - _Pr._ Painful indeed it is to me to tell these things, - And a pain to be silent, and every way unfortunate. - When first the divinities began their strife, - And discord 'mong themselves arose, - Some wishing to cast Kronos from his seat, - That Zeus might reign, forsooth, others the contrary - Striving, that Zeus might never rule the gods; - Then I, the best advising, to persuade - The Titans, sons of Uranus and Chthon, - Unable was; but crafty stratagems - Despising with rude minds, - They thought without trouble to rule by force; - But to me my mother not once only, Themis, - And Gæa, of many names one form, - How the future should be accomplished had foretold, - That not by power nor by strength - Would it be necessary, but by craft the victors should prevail. - Such I in words expounding, - They deigned not to regard at all. - The best course, therefore, of those occurring then - Appeared to be, taking my mother to me, - Of my own accord to side with Zeus glad to receive me; - And by my counsels Tartarus' black-pitted - Depths conceals the ancient Kronos, - With his allies. In such things by me - The tyrant of the gods having been helped, - With base rewards like these repays me; - For there is somehow in kingship - This disease, not to trust its friends. - What then you ask, for what cause - He afflicts me, this will I now explain. - As soon as on his father's throne - He sat, he straightway to the gods distributes honors, - Some to one and to another some, and arranged - The government; but of unhappy mortals account - Had none; but blotting out the race - Entire, wished to create another new. - And these things none opposed but I, - But I adventured; I rescued mortals - From going destroyed to Hades. - Therefore, indeed, with such afflictions am I bent, - To suffer grievous, and piteous to behold, - And, holding mortals up to pity, myself am not - Thought worthy to obtain it; but without pity - Am I thus corrected, a spectacle inglorious to Zeus. - - _Ch._ Of iron heart and made of stone, - Whoe'er, Prometheus, with thy sufferings - Does not grieve; for I should not have wished to see - These things, and having seen them I am grieved at heart. - - _Pr._ Indeed to friends I'm piteous to behold. - - _Ch._ Did you in no respect go beyond this? - - _Pr._ True, mortals I made cease foreseeing fate. - - _Ch._ Having found what remedy for this all? - - _Pr._ Blind hopes in them I made to dwell. - - _Ch._ A great advantage this you gave to men. - - _Pr._ Beside these, too, I bestowed on them fire. - - _Ch._ And have mortals flamy fire? - - _Pr._ From which, indeed, they will learn many arts. - - _Ch._ Upon such charges, then, does Zeus - Maltreat you, and nowhere relax from ills? - Is there no term of suffering lying before thee? - - _Pr._ Nay, none at all, but when to him it may seem good. - - _Ch._ And how will it seem good? What hope? See you not that - You have erred? But how you've erred, for me to tell - Not pleasant, and to you a pain. But these things - Let us omit, and seek you some release from sufferings. - - _Pr._ Easy, whoever out of trouble holds his - Foot, to admonish and remind those faring - Ill. But all these things I knew; - Willing, willing I erred, I'll not deny; - Mortals assisting I myself found trouble. - Not indeed with penalties like these thought I - That I should pine on lofty rocks, - Gaining this drear unneighbored hill. - But bewail not my present woes, - But alighting, the fortunes creeping on - Hear ye, that ye may learn all to the end. - Obey me, obey, sympathize - With him now suffering. Thus indeed affliction, - Wandering round, sits now by one, then by another. - - _Ch._ Not to unwilling ears do you urge - This, Prometheus. - And now with light foot the swift-rushing - Seat leaving, and the pure ether, - Path of birds, to this peaked - Ground I come; for thy misfortunes - I wish fully to hear. - -PROMETHEUS, CHORUS, _and_ OCEANUS. - - _Oc._ I come to the end of a long way - Traveling to thee, Prometheus, - By my will without bits directing - This wing-swift bird; - For at thy fortunes know I grieve. - And, I think, affinity thus - Impels me, but apart from birth, - There's not to whom a higher rank - I would assign than thee. - And you will know these things as true, and not in vain - To flatter with the tongue is in me. Come, therefore, - Show how it is necessary to assist you; - For never will you say, than Ocean - There's a firmer friend to thee. - - _Pr._ Alas! what now? And you, then, of my sufferings - Come spectator? How didst thou dare, leaving - The stream which bears thy name, and rock-roofed - Caves self-built, to the iron-mother - Earth to go? To behold my fate - Hast come, and to compassionate my ills? - Behold a spectacle, this, the friend of Zeus, - Having with him stablished his tyranny, - With what afflictions by himself I'm bent. - - _Oc._ I see, Prometheus, and would admonish - Thee the best, although of varied craft. - Know thyself, and fit thy manners - New; for new also the king among the gods. - For if thus rude and whetted words - Thou wilt hurl out, quickly may Zeus, though sitting - Far above, hear thee, so that thy present wrath - Of troubles child's play will seem to be. - But, O wretched one, dismiss the indignation which thou hast, - And seek deliverance from these woes. - Like an old man, perhaps, I seem to thee to say these things; - Such, however, are the wages - Of the too lofty speaking tongue, Prometheus; - But thou art not yet humble, nor dost yield to ills, - And beside the present wish to receive others still. - But thou wouldst not, with my counsel, - Against the pricks extend your limbs, seeing that - A stern monarch irresponsible reigns. - And now I go, and will endeavor, - If I can, to release thee from these sufferings. - But be thou quiet, nor too rudely speak. - Know'st thou not well, with thy superior wisdom, that - On a vain tongue punishment is inflicted? - - _Pr._ I congratulate thee that thou art without blame, - Having shared and dared all with me; - And now leave off, and let it not concern thee. - For altogether thou wilt not persuade him, for he's not easily - persuaded, - But take heed yourself lest you be injured by the way. - - _Oc._ Far better thou art to advise those near - Than thyself; by deed and not by word I judge. - But me hastening by no means mayest thou detain, - For I boast, I boast, this favor will Zeus - Grant me, from these sufferings to release thee. - - _Pr._ So far I praise thee, and will never cease; - For zeal you nothing lack. But - Strive not; for in vain, naught helping - Me, thou 'lt strive, if aught to strive you wish. - But be thou quiet, holding thyself aloof, - For I would not, though I'm unfortunate, that on this account - Evils should come to many. - - _Oc._ Surely not, for me too the fortunes of thy brother - Atlas grieve, who towards the evening-places - Stands, the pillar of heaven and earth - Upon his shoulders bearing, a load not easy to be borne. - And the earth-born inhabitant of the Cilician - Caves seeing, I pitied, the savage monster - With a hundred heads, by force o'ercome, - Typhon impetuous, who stood 'gainst all the gods, - With frightful jaws hissing out slaughter; - And from his eyes flashed a Gorgonian light, - Utterly to destroy by force the sovereignty of Zeus; - But there came to him Zeus' sleepless bolt, - Descending thunder, breathing flame, - Which struck him out from lofty - Boastings. For, struck to his very heart, - His strength was scorched and thundered out. - And now a useless and extended carcass - Lies he near a narrow passage of the sea, - Pressed down under the roots of Ætna. - And on the topmost summit seated, Hephaistus - Hammers the ignited mass, whence will burst out at length - Rivers of fire, devouring with wild jaws - Fair-fruited Sicily's smooth fields; - Such rage will Typhon make boil over - With hot discharges of insatiable fire-breathing tempest, - Though by the bolt of Zeus burnt to a coal. - - _Pr._ Thou art not inexperienced, nor dost want - My counsel; secure thyself as thou know'st how; - And I against the present fortune will bear up, - Until the thought of Zeus may cease from wrath. - - _Oc._ Know'st thou not this, Prometheus, that - Words are healers of distempered wrath? - - _Pr._ If any seasonably soothe the heart, - And swelling passion check not rudely. - - _Oc._ In the consulting and the daring - What harm seest thou existing? Teach me. - - _Pr._ Trouble superfluous, and light-minded folly. - - _Oc._ Be this my ail then, since it is - Most profitable, being wise, not to seem wise. - - _Pr._ This will seem to be my error. - - _Oc._ Plainly homeward thy words remand me. - - _Pr._ Aye, let not grief for me into hostility cast thee. - - _Oc._ To the new occupant of the all-powerful seats? - - _Pr._ Beware lest ever his heart be angered. - - _Oc._ Thy fate, Prometheus, is my teacher. - - _Pr._ Go thou, depart; preserve the present mind. - - _Oc._ To me rushing this word you utter. - For the smooth path of the air sweeps with his wings - The four-legged bird; and gladly would - In the stalls at home bend a knee. - -PROMETHEUS _and_ CHORUS. - - _Ch._ I mourn for thee thy ruinous - Fate, Prometheus, - And tear-distilling from my tender - Eyes a stream has wet - My cheeks with flowing springs; - For these, unenvied, Zeus - By his own laws enforcing, - Haughty above the gods - That were displays his sceptre. - And every region now - With groans resounds, - Mourning the illustrious - And ancient honor - Of thee and of thy kindred; - As many mortals as the habitable seat - Of sacred Asia pasture, - With thy lamentable - Woes have sympathy; - And of the Colchian land, virgin - Inhabitants, in fight undaunted, - And Scythia's multitude, who the last - Place of earth, about - Mæotis lake possess, - And Arabia's martial flower, - And who the high-hung citadels - Of Caucasus inhabit near, - A hostile army, raging - With sharp-prowed spears. - Only one other god before, in sufferings - Subdued by injuries - Of adamantine bonds, I've seen, Titanian - Atlas, who always with superior strength - The huge and heavenly globe - On his back bears; - And with a roar the sea waves - Dashing, groans the deep, - And the dark depth of Hades murmurs underneath - The earth, and fountains of pure-running rivers - Heave a pitying sigh. - - _Pr._ Think not, indeed, through weakness or through pride - That I am silent; for with the consciousness I gnaw my heart, - Seeing myself thus basely used. - And yet to these new gods their shares - Who else than I wholly distributed? - But of these things I am silent; for I should tell you - What you know; the sufferings of mortals too - You've heard, how I made intelligent - And possessed of sense them ignorant before. - But I will speak, not bearing any grudge to men, - But showing in what I gave the good intention; - At first, indeed, seeing they saw in vain, - And hearing heard not; but like the forms - Of dreams, for that long time, rashly confounded - All, nor brick-woven dwellings - Knew they, placed in the sun, nor woodwork; - But digging down they dwelt, like puny - Ants, in sunless nooks of caves. - And there was naught to them, neither of winter sign, - Nor of flower-giving spring, nor fruitful - Summer, that was sure; but without knowledge - Did they all, till I taught them the risings - Of the stars, and goings down, hard to determine. - And numbers, chief of inventions, - I found out for them, and the assemblages of letters, - And memory, Muse-mother, doer of all things; - And first I joined in pairs wild animals - Obedient to the yoke; and that they might be - Alternate workers with the bodies of men - In the severest toils, I harnessed the rein-loving horses - To the car, the ornament of over-wealthy luxury. - And none else than I invented the sea-wandering - Flaxen-winged vehicles of sailors. - Such inventions I wretched having found out - For men, myself have not the ingenuity by which - From the now present ill I may escape. - - _Ch._ You suffer unseemly ill; deranged in mind - You err; and as some bad physician, falling - Sick you are dejected, and cannot find - By what remedies you may be healed. - - _Pr._ Hearing the rest from me more will you wonder - What arts and what expedients I planned. - That which was greatest, if any might fall sick, - There was alleviation none, neither to eat, - Nor to anoint, nor drink, but for the want - Of medicines they were reduced to skeletons, till to them - I showed the mingling of mild remedies, - By which all ails they drive away. - And many modes of prophecy I settled, - And distinguished first of dreams what a real - Vision is required to be, and omens hard to be determined - I made known to them; and tokens by the way, - And flight of crooked-taloned birds I accurately - Defined, which lucky are, - And unlucky, and what mode of life - Have each, and to one another what - Hostilities, attachments, and assemblings; - The entrails' smoothness, and what color having - They would be to the divinities acceptable; - Of the gall and liver the various symmetry, - And the limbs concealed in fat; and the long - Flank burning, to an art hard to be guessed - I showed the way to mortals; and flammeous signs - Explained, before obscure. - Such indeed these; and under ground - Concealed the helps to men; - Brass, iron, silver, gold, who - Would affirm that he discovered before me? - None, I well know, not wishing in vain to boast. - But learn all in one word, - _All arts to mortals from Prometheus_. - - _Ch._ Assist not mortals now unseasonably, - And neglect yourself unfortunate; for I - Am of good hope that, from these bonds - Released, you will yet have no less power than Zeus. - - _Pr._ Never thus has Fate the Accomplisher - Decreed to fulfill these things, but by a myriad ills - And woes subdued, thus bonds I flee; - For art 's far weaker than necessity. - - _Ch._ Who, then, is helmsman of necessity? - - _Pr._ The Fates three-formed, and the remembering Furies. - - _Ch._ Than these, then, is Zeus weaker? - - _Pr._ Ay, he could not escape what has been fated. - - _Ch._ But what to Zeus is fated, except always to rule? - - _Pr._ This thou wilt not learn; seek not to know. - - _Ch._ Surely some awful thing it is which you withhold. - - _Pr._ Remember other words, for this by no means - Is it time to tell, but to be concealed - As much as possible; for keeping this do I - Escape unseemly bonds and woes. - - _Ch._ Never may the all-ruling - Zeus put into my mind - Force antagonist to him. - Nor let me cease drawing near - The gods with holy sacrifices - Of slain oxen, by Father Ocean's - Ceaseless passage, - Nor offend with words, - But in me this remain - And ne'er be melted out. - 'Tis something sweet with bold - Hopes the long life to - Extend, in bright - Cheerfulness the cherishing spirit. - But I shudder, thee beholding - By a myriad sufferings tormented.... - For, not fearing Zeus, - In thy private mind thou dost regard - Mortals too much, Prometheus. - Come, though a thankless - Favor, friend, say where is any strength, - From ephemerals any help? Saw you not - The powerless inefficiency, - Dream-like, in which the blind ... - Race of mortals are entangled? - Never counsels of mortals - May transgress the harmony of Zeus. - I learned these things looking on - Thy destructive fate, Prometheus. - For different to me did this strain come, - And that which round thy baths - And couch I hymned, - With the design of marriage, when my father's child - With bridal gifts persuading, thou didst lead - Hesione the partner of thy bed. - -PROMETHEUS, CHORUS, _and_ IO. - - _Io._ What earth, what race, what being shall I is this - I see in bridles of rock - Exposed? By what crime's - Penalty dost thou perish? Show, to what part - Of earth I miserable have wandered. - Ah! ah! alas! alas! - Again some fly doth sting me wretched, - Image of earth-born Argus, cover it, earth; - I fear the myriad-eyed herdsman beholding; - For he goes having a treacherous eye, - Whom not e'en dead the earth conceals. - But me, wretched from the Infernals passing, - He pursues, and drives fasting along the seaside - Sand, while low resounds a wax-compacted reed, - Uttering sleep-giving law; alas! alas! O gods! - Where, gods! where lead me far-wandering courses? - In what sin, O son of Kronos, - In what sin ever having taken, - To these afflictions hast thou yoked me? alas! alas! - With fly-driven fear a wretched - Frenzied one dost thus afflict? - With fire burn, or with earth cover, or - To sea monsters give for food, nor - Envy me my prayers, king. - Enough much-wandered wanderings - Have exercised me, nor can I learn where - I shall escape from sufferings. - - _Ch._ Hear'st thou the address of the cow-horned virgin? - - _Pr._ And how not hear the fly-whirled virgin, - Daughter of Inachus, who Zeus' heart warmed - With love, and now the courses over long, - By Here hated, forcedly performs? - - _Io._ Whence utterest thou my father's name? - Tell me, miserable, who thou art, - That to me, O suffering one, me born to suffer, - Thus true things dost address? - The god-sent ail thou'st named, - Which wastes me stinging - With maddening goads, alas! alas! - With foodless and unseemly leaps - Rushing headlong, I came, - By wrathful plots subdued. - Who of the wretched, who, alas! alas! suffers like me? - But to me clearly show - What me awaits to suffer, - What not necessary; what remedy of ill, - Teach, if indeed thou know'st; speak out, - Tell the ill-wandering virgin. - - _Pr._ I'll clearly tell thee all you wish to learn. - Not weaving in enigmas, but in simple speech, - As it is just to open the mouth to friends. - Thou seest the giver of fire to men, Prometheus. - - _Io._ O thou who didst appear a common help to mortals, - Wretched Prometheus, to atone for what do you endure this? - - _Pr._ I have scarce ceased my sufferings lamenting. - - _Io._ Would you not grant this favor to me? - - _Pr._ Say what you ask; for you'd learn all from me. - - _Io._ Say who has bound thee to the cliff. - - _Pr._ The will, indeed, of Zeus, Hephaistus' hand. - - _Io._ And penalty for what crimes dost thou pay? - - _Pr._ Thus much only can I show thee. - - _Io._ But beside this, declare what time will be - To me unfortunate the limit of my wandering. - - _Pr._ Not to learn is better for thee than to learn these things. - - _Io._ Conceal not from me what I am to suffer. - - _Pr._ Indeed, I grudge thee not this favor. - - _Io._ Why, then, dost thou delay to tell the whole? - - _Pr._ There's no unwillingness, but I hesitate to vex thy mind. - - _Io._ Care not for me more than is pleasant to me. - - _Pr._ Since you are earnest, it behooves to speak; hear then. - - _Ch._ Not yet, indeed; but a share of pleasure also give to me. - First we'll learn the malady of this one, - Herself relating her destructive fortunes, - And the remainder of her trials let her learn from thee. - - _Pr._ 'T is thy part, Io, to do these a favor, - As well for every other reason, and as they are sisters of thy - father. - Since to weep and to lament misfortunes, - There where one will get a tear - From those attending, is worthy the delay. - - _Io._ I know not that I need distrust you, - But in plain speech you shall learn - All that you ask for; and yet e'en telling I lament - The god-sent tempest, and dissolution - Of my form--whence to me miserable it came. - For always visions in the night, moving about - My virgin chambers, enticed me - With smooth words: "O greatly happy virgin, - Why be a virgin long? is permitted to obtain - The greatest marriage. For Zeus with love's dart - Has been warmed by thee, and wishes to unite - In love; but do thou, O child, spurn not the couch - Of Zeus, but go out to Lerna's deep - Morass, and stables of thy father's herds, - That the divine eye may cease from desire." - With such dreams every night - Was I unfortunate distressed, till I dared tell - My father of the night-wandering visions. - And he to Pytho and Dodona frequent - Prophets sent, that he might learn what it was necessary - He should say or do, to do agreeably to the gods. - And they came bringing ambiguous - Oracles, darkly and indistinctly uttered. - But finally a plain report came to Inachus, - Clearly enjoining him and telling - Out of my home and country to expel me, - Discharged to wander to the earth's last bounds; - And if he was not willing, from Zeus would come - A fiery thunderbolt, which would annihilate all his race. - Induced by such predictions of the Loxian, - Against his will he drove me out, - And shut me from the houses; but Zeus' rein - Compelled him by force to do these things. - Immediately my form and mind were - Changed, and horned, as you behold, stung - By a sharp-mouthed fly, with frantic leaping - Rushed I to Cenchrea's palatable stream, - And Lerna's source; but a herdsman born-of-earth - Of violent temper, Argus, accompanied, with numerous - Eyes my steps observing. - But unexpectedly a sudden fate - Robbed him of life; and I, fly-stung, - By lash divine am driven from land to land. - You hear what has been done; and if you have to say aught, - What's left of labors, speak; nor pitying me - Comfort with false words; for an ill - The worst of all, I say, are made-up words. - - _Ch._ Ah! ah! enough, alas! - Ne'er, ne'er did I presume such cruel words - Would reach my ears, nor thus unsightly - And intolerable hurts, sufferings, fears with a two-edged - Goad would chill my soul; - Alas! alas! fate! fate! - I shudder, seeing the state of Io. - - _Pr._ Beforehand sigh'st thou, and art full of fears, - Hold till the rest also thou learn'st. - - _Ch._ Tell, teach; for to the sick 't is sweet - To know the remaining pain beforehand clearly. - - _Pr._ Your former wish ye got from me - With ease; for first ye asked to learn from her - Relating her own trials; - The rest now hear, what sufferings 't is necessary - This young woman should endure from Here. - But do thou, offspring of Inachus, my words - Cast in thy mind, that thou may'st learn the boundaries of - the way. - First, indeed, hence towards the rising of the sun - Turning thyself, travel uncultivated lands, - And to the Scythian nomads thou wilt come, who woven roofs - On high inhabit, on well-wheeled carts, - With far-casting bows equipped; - Whom go not near, but to the sea-resounding cliffs - Bending thy feet, pass from the region. - On the left hand the iron-working - Chalybes inhabit, whom thou must needs beware, - For they are rude and inaccessible to strangers. - And thou wilt come to the Hybristes river, not ill named, - Which pass not, for not easy is 't to pass, - Before you get to Caucasus itself, highest - Of mountains, where the stream spurts out its tide - From the very temples; and passing over - The star-neighbored summits, 't is necessary to go - The southern way, where thou wilt come to the man-hating - Army of the Amazons, who Themiscyra one day - Will inhabit, by the Thermedon, where's - Salmydessia, rough jaw of the sea, - Inhospitable to sailors, stepmother of ships; - They will conduct thee on thy way, and very cheerfully. - And to the Cimmerian isthmus thou wilt come, - Just on the narrow portals of a lake, which leaving - It behooves thee with stout heart to pass the Moeotic straits; - And there will be to mortals ever a great fame - Of thy passage, and Bosphorus from thy name - 'T will be called. And leaving Europe's plain - The continent of Asia thou wilt reach.--Seemeth to thee, - forsooth, - The tyrant of the gods in everything to be - Thus violent? For he a god, with this mortal - Wishing to unite, drove her to these wanderings. - A bitter wooer didst thou find, O virgin, - For thy marriage. For the words you now have heard - Think not yet to be the prelude. - - _Io._ Ah! me! me! alas! alas! - - _Pr._ Again dost shriek and heave a sigh? What - Wilt thou do when the remaining ills thou learn'st? - - _Ch._ And hast thou any further suffering to tell her? - - _Pr._ Ay, a tempestuous sea of baleful woe. - - _Io._ What profit, then, for me to live, and not in haste - To cast myself from this rough rock, - That rushing down upon the plain I may be released - From every trouble? For better once for all to die, - Than all my days to suffer evilly. - - _Pr._ Unhappily my trials would'st thou hear, - To whom to die has not been fated; - For this would be release from sufferings; - But now there is no end of ills lying - Before me, until Zeus falls from sovereignty. - - _Io._ And is Zeus ever to fall from power? - - _Pr._ Thou would'st be pleased, I think, to see this accident. - - _Io._ How should I not, who suffer ill from Zeus? - - _Pr._ That these things then are so, be thou assured. - - _Io._ By what one will the tyrant's power be robbed? - - _Pr._ Himself, by his own senseless counsels. - - _Io._ In what way show, if there's no harm. - - _Pr._ He will make such a marriage as one day he'll repent. - - _Io._ Of god or mortal? If to be spoken, tell. - - _Pr._ What matters which? For these things are not to be told. - - _Io._ By a wife will he be driven from the throne? - - _Pr._ Ay, she will bring forth a son superior to his father. - - _Io._ Is there no refuge for him from this fate? - - _Pr._ None, surely, till I may be released from bonds. - - _Io._ Who, then, is to release thee, Zeus unwilling? - - _Pr._ He must be some one of thy descendants. - - _Io._ How sayest thou? that my child will deliver thee from ills? - - _Pr._ Third of thy race after ten other births. - - _Io._ This oracle is not yet easy to be guessed. - - _Pr._ But do not seek to understand thy sufferings. - - _Io._ First proffering gain to me, do not then withhold it. - - _Pr._ I'll grant thee one of two relations. - - _Io._ What two propose, and give to me my choice. - - _Pr._ I give; choose whether thy remaining troubles - I shall tell thee clearly, or him that will release me. - - _Ch._ Consent to do her the one favor, - Me the other, nor deem us undeserving of thy words; - To her indeed tell what remains of wandering, - And to me, who will release; for I desire this. - - _Pr._ Since ye are earnest, I will not resist - To tell the whole, as much as ye ask for. - To thee first, Io, vexatious wandering I will tell, - Which engrave on the remembering tablets of the mind. - When thou hast passed the flood boundary of continents, - Towards the flaming orient sun-traveled ... - Passing through the tumult of the sea, until you reach - The Gorgonian plains of Cisthene, where - The Phorcides dwell, old virgins, - Three, swan-shaped, having a common eye, - One-toothed, whom neither the sun looks on - With his beams, nor nightly moon ever. - And near, their winged sisters three, - Dragon-scaled Gorgons, odious to men, - Whom no mortal beholding will have breath; - Such danger do I tell thee. - But hear another odious sight; - Beware the gryphons, sharp-mouthed - Dogs of Zeus, which bark not, and the one-eyed Arimaspian - Host, going on horseback, who dwell about - The golden-flowing flood of Pluto's channel; - These go not near. But to a distant land - Thou 'lt come, a dusky race, who near the fountains - Of the sun inhabit, where is the Æthiopian river. - Creep down the banks of this, until thou com'st - To a descent, where from Byblinian mounts - The Nile sends down its sacred palatable stream. - This will conduct thee to the triangled land - Nilean, where, Io, 't is decreed - Thou and thy progeny shall form the distant colony. - If aught of this is unintelligible to thee, and hard to be - found out, - Repeat thy questions, and learn clearly; - For more leisure than I want is granted me. - - _Ch._ If to her aught remaining or omitted - Thou hast to tell of her pernicious wandering, - Speak; but if thou hast said all, give us - The favor which we ask, for surely thou remember'st. - - _Pr._ The whole term of her traveling has she heard. - But that she may know that not in vain she hears me, - I'll tell what before coming hither she endured, - Giving this as proof of my relations. - The great multitude of words I will omit, - And proceed unto the very limit of thy wanderings. - When, then, you came to the Molossian ground, - And near the high-ridged Dodona, where - Oracle and seat is of Thesprotian Zeus, - And prodigy incredible, the speaking oaks, - By whom you clearly, and naught enigmatically, - Were called the illustrious wife of Zeus - About to be, if aught of these things soothes thee; - Thence, driven by the fly, you came - The seaside way to the great gulf of Rhea, - From which by courses retrograde you are now tempest-tossed. - But for time to come the sea gulf, - Clearly know, will be called Ionian, - Memorial of thy passage to all mortals. - Proofs to thee are these of my intelligence, - That it sees somewhat more than the apparent. - But the rest to you and her in common I will tell, - Having come upon the very track of former words. - There is a city Canopus, last of the land, - By Nile's very mouth and bank; - There at length Zeus makes thee sane, - Stroking with gentle hand, and touching only. - And, named from Zeus' begetting, - Thou wilt bear dark Epaphus, who will reap - As much land as broad-flowing Nile doth water; - And fifth from him, a band of fifty children - Again to Argos shall unwilling come, - Of female sex, avoiding kindred marriage - Of their cousins; but they, with minds inflamed, - Hawks by doves not far left behind, - Will come pursuing marriages - Not to be pursued, but heaven will take vengeance on their bodies; - For them Pelasgia shall receive by Mars - Subdued with woman's hand with night-watching boldness. - For each wife shall take her husband's life, - Staining a two-edged dagger in his throat. - Such 'gainst my foes may Cypris come.-- - But one of the daughters shall love soften - Not to slay her bedfellow, but she will waver - In her mind; and one of two things will prefer, - To hear herself called timid, rather than stained with blood; - She shall in Argos bear a royal race.-- - Of a long speech is need this clearly to discuss. - From this seed, however, shall be born a brave, - Famed for his bow, who will release me - From these sufferings. Such oracle my ancient - Mother told me, Titanian Themis; - But how and by what means, this needs long speech - To tell, and nothing, learning, wilt thou gain. - - _Io._ Ah me! ah wretched me! - Spasms again and brain-struck - Madness burn me within, and a fly's dart - Stings me,--not wrought by fire. - My heart with fear knocks at my breast, - And my eyes whirl round and round, - And from my course I'm borne by madness' - Furious breath, unable to control my tongue; - While confused words dash idly - 'Gainst the waves of horrid woe. - - _Ch._ Wise, wise indeed was he, - Who first in mind - This weighed, and with the tongue expressed, - To marry according to one's degree is best by far; - Nor, being a laborer with the hands, - To woo those who are by wealth corrupted, - Nor, those by birth made great. - Never, never me - Fates ... - May you behold the sharer of Zeus' couch. - Nor may I be brought near to any husband among those from heaven, - For I fear, seeing the virginhood of Io, - Not content with man, through marriage vexed - With these distressful wanderings by Here. - But for myself, since an equal marriage is without fear, - I am not concerned lest the love of the almighty - Gods cast its inevitable eye on me. - Without war, indeed, this war, producing - Troubles; nor do I know what would become of me; - For I see not how I should escape the subtlety of Zeus. - - _Pr._ Surely shall Zeus, though haughty now, - Yet be humble, such marriage - He prepares to make, which from sovereignty - And the throne will cast him down obscure; and Father Kronos' - Curse will then be all fulfilled, - Which falling from the ancient seats he imprecated. - And refuge from such ills none of the gods - But I can show him clearly. - I know these things, and in what manner. Now, therefore, - Being bold, let him sit trusting to lofty - Sounds, and brandishing with both hands his fire-breathing weapon, - For naught will these avail him, not - To fall disgracefully intolerable falls; - Such wrestler does he now prepare, - Himself against himself, a prodigy most hard to be withstood; - Who, indeed, will invent a better flame than lightning, - And a loud sound surpassing thunder; - And shiver the trident, Neptune's weapon, - The marine earth-shaking ail. - Stumbling upon this ill he'll learn - How different to govern and to serve. - - _Ch._ Ay, as you hope you vent this against Zeus. - - _Pr._ What will be done, and also what I hope, I say. - - _Ch._ And are we to expect that any will rule Zeus? - - _Pr._ Even than these more grievous ills he'll have. - - _Ch._ How fear'st thou not, hurling such words? - - _Pr._ What should I fear, to whom to die has not been fated? - - _Ch._ But suffering more grievous still than this he may inflict. - - _Pr._ Then let him do it; all is expected by me. - - _Ch._ Those reverencing Adrastia are wise. - - _Pr._ Revere, pray, flatter each successive ruler. - Me less than nothing Zeus concerns. - Let him do, let him prevail this short time - As he will, for long he will not rule the gods,-- - But I see here, indeed, Zeus' runner, - The new tryant's drudge; - Doubtless he brings some new message. - -PROMETHEUS, CHORUS, _and_ HERMES. - - _Her._ To thee, the sophist, the bitterly bitter, - The sinner against gods, the giver of honors - To ephemerals, the thief of fire, I speak; - The Father commands thee to tell the marriage - Which you boast, by which he falls from power; - And that, too, not enigmatically, - But each particular declare; nor cause me - Double journeys, Prometheus; for thou see'st that - Zeus is not appeased by such. - - _Pr._ Solemn-mouthed and full of wisdom - Is thy speech, as of the servant of the gods. - Ye newly rule, and think forsooth - To dwell in griefless citadels; have I not seen - Two tyrants fallen from these? - And third I shall behold him ruling now, - Basest and speediest. Do I seem to thee - To fear and shrink from the new gods? - Nay, much and wholly I fall short of this. - The way thou cam'st go through the dust again; - For thou wilt learn naught which thou ask'st of me. - - _Her._ Ay, by such insolence before - You brought yourself into these woes. - - _Pr._ Plainly know, I would not change - My ill fortune for thy servitude, - For better, I think, to serve this rock - Than be the faithful messenger of Father Zeus. - Thus to insult the insulting it is fit. - - _Her._ Thou seem'st to enjoy thy present state. - - _Pr._ I enjoy? Enjoying thus my enemies - Would I see; and thee 'mong them I count. - - _Her._ Dost thou blame me for aught of thy misfortunes? - - _Pr._ In plain words, all gods I hate, - As many as well treated wrong me unjustly. - - _Her._ I hear thee raving, no slight ail. - - _Pr._ Ay, I should ail, if ail one's foes to hate. - - _Her._ If prosperous, thou couldst not be borne. - - _Pr._ Ah me! - - _Her._ This word Zeus does not know. - - _Pr._ But time growing old teaches all things. - - _Her._ And still thou know'st not yet how to be prudent. - - _Pr._ For I should not converse with thee a servant. - - _Her._ Thou seem'st to say naught which the Father wishes. - - _Pr._ And yet his debtor I'd requite the favor. - - _Her._ Thou mock'st me verily as if I were a child. - - _Pr._ And art thou not a child, and simpler still than this, - If thou expectest to learn aught from me? - There is not outrage nor expedient, by which - Zeus will induce me to declare these things, - Before he loose these grievous bonds. - Let there be hurled, then, flaming fire, - And the white-winged snows, and thunders - Of the earth, let him confound and mingle all. - For none of these will bend me till I tell - By whom 't is necessary he should fall from sovereignty. - - _Her._ Consider now if these things seem helpful. - - _Pr._ Long since these were considered and resolved. - - _Her._ Venture, O vain one, venture, at length, - In view of present sufferings to be wise. - - _Pr._ In vain you vex me, as a wave, exhorting. - Ne'er let it come into thy mind that I, fearing - Zeus' anger, shall become woman-minded, - And beg him, greatly hated, - With womanish upturnings of the hands, - To loose me from these bonds. I am far from it. - - _Her._ Though saying much I seem in vain to speak; - For thou art nothing softened nor appeased - By prayers; but champing at the bit like a new-yoked - Colt, thou strugglest and contend'st against the reins. - But thou art violent with feeble wisdom. - For stubbornness to him who is not wise, - Itself alone, is less than nothing strong. - But consider, if thou art not persuaded by my words, - What storm and triple surge of ills - Will come upon thee, not to be avoided; for first this rugged - Cliff with thunder and lightning flame - The Father'll rend, and hide - Thy body, and a strong arm will bury thee. - When thou hast spent a long length of time, - Thou wilt come back to light; and Zeus' - Winged dog, a bloodthirsty eagle, ravenously - Shall tear the great rag of thy body, - Creeping an uninvited guest all day, - And banquet on thy liver black by eating. - Of such suffering expect not any end, - Before some god appear - Succeeding to thy labors, and wish to go to rayless - Hades, and the dark depths of Tartarus. - Therefore deliberate; since this is not made - Boasting, but in earnest spoken; - For to speak falsely does not know the mouth - Of Zeus, but every word he does. So - Look about thee, and consider, nor ever think - Obstinacy better than prudence. - - _Ch._ To us indeed Hermes appears to say not unseasonable things, - For he directs thee, leaving off - Self-will, to seek prudent counsel. - Obey; for it is base to err, for a wise man. - - _Pr._ To me foreknowing these messages - He has uttered, but for a foe to suffer ill - From foes is naught unseemly. - Therefore 'gainst me let there be hurled - Fire's double-pointed curl, and air - Be provoked with thunder, and a tumult - Of wild winds; and earth from its foundations - Let a wind rock, and its very roots, - And with a rough surge mingle - The sea waves with the passages - Of the heavenly stars, and to black - Tartarus let him quite cast down my - Body, by necessity's strong eddies. - Yet after all he will not kill me. - - _Her._ Such words and counsels you may hear - From the brain-struck. - For what lacks he of being mad? - And if prosperous, what does he cease from madness? - Do you, therefore, who sympathize - With this one's suffering, - From these places quick withdraw somewhere, - Lest the harsh bellowing thunder - Stupefy your minds. - - _Ch._ Say something else, and exhort me - To some purpose; for surely - Thou hast intolerably abused this word. - How direct me to perform a baseness? - I wish to suffer with him whate'er is necessary, - For I have learned to hate betrayers; - Nor is the pest - Which I abominate more than this. - - _Her._ Remember, then, what I foretell; - Nor by calamity pursued - Blame fortune, nor e'er say - That Zeus into unforeseen - Ill has cast you; surely not, but yourselves - You yourselves; for knowing, - And not suddenly nor clandestinely, - You'll be entangled through your folly - In an impassable net of woe. - - _Pr._ Surely indeed, and no more in word, - Earth is shaken; - And a hoarse sound of thunder - Bellows near; and wreaths of lightning - Flash out fiercely blazing, and whirlwinds dust - Whirl up; and leap the blasts - Of all winds, 'gainst one another - Blowing in opposite array; - And air with sea is mingled; - Such impulse against me from Zeus, - Producing fear, doth plainly come. - O revered Mother, O Ether - Revolving common light to all, - You see me, how unjust things I endure! - - - - -TRANSLATIONS FROM PINDAR - - -ELYSIUM - -OLYMPIA II, 109-150 - - Equally by night always, - And by day, having the sun, the good - Lead a life without labor, not disturbing the earth - With violent hands, nor the sea water, - For a scanty living; but honored - By the gods, who take pleasure in fidelity to oaths, - They spend a tearless existence; - While the others suffer unsightly pain. - But as many as endured threefold - Probation, keeping the mind from all - Injustice, going the way of Zeus to Kronos' tower, - Where the ocean breezes blow around - The island of the blessed; and flowers of gold shine, - Some on the land from dazzling trees, - And the water nourishes others; - With garlands of these they crown their hands and hair, - According to the just decrees of Rhadamanthus, - Whom Father Kronos, the husband of Rhea, - Having the highest throne of all, has ready by himself as his - assistant judge. - Peleus and Kadmus are regarded among these; - And his mother brought Achilles, when she had - Persuaded the heart of Zeus with prayers, - Who overthrew Hector, Troy's - Unconquered, unshaken column, and gave Cycnus - To death, and Morning's Æthiop son. - -OLYMPIA V, 34-39 - - Always around virtues labor and expense strive toward a work - Covered with danger; but those succeeding seem to be wise even - to the citizens. - -OLYMPIA VI, 14-17 - - Dangerless virtues, - Neither among men, nor in hollow ships, - Are honorable; but many remember if a fair deed is done. - - -ORIGIN OF RHODES - -OLYMPIA VII, 100-129 - - Ancient sayings of men relate, - That when Zeus and the Immortals divided earth, - Rhodes was not yet apparent in the deep sea; - But in salt depths the island was hid. - And, Helios being absent, no one claimed for him his lot; - So they left him without any region for his share, - The pure god. And Zeus was about to make a second drawing of lots - For him warned. But he did not permit him; - For he said that within the white sea he had seen a certain land - springing up from the bottom, - Capable of feeding many men, and suitable for flocks. - And straightway he commanded golden-filleted Lachesis - To stretch forth her hands, and not contradict - The great oath of the gods, but with the son of Kronos - Assent that, to the bright air being sent by his nod, - It should hereafter be his prize. And his words were fully - performed, - Meeting with truth. The island sprang from the watery - Sea; and the genial Father of penetrating beams, - Ruler of fire-breathing horses, has it. - -OLYMPIA VIII, 95, 96 - - A man doing fit things - Forgets Hades. - - -HERCULES NAMES THE HILL OF KRONOS - -OLYMPIA X, 59-68 - - He named the Hill of Kronos, for before nameless, - While Oenomaus ruled, it was moistened with much snow; - And at this first rite the Fates stood by, - And Time, who alone proves - Unchanging truth. - - -OLYMPIA AT EVENING - -OLYMPIA X, 85-92 - - With the javelin Phrastor struck the mark; - And Eniceus cast the stone afar, - Whirling his hand, above them all, - And with applause it rushed - Through a great tumult; - And the lovely evening light - Of the fair-faced moon shone on the scene. - - -FAME - -OLYMPIA X, 109-117 - - When, having done fair things, O Agesidamus, - Without the reward of song, a man may come - To Hades' rest, vainly aspiring - He obtains with toil some short delight. - But the sweet-voiced lyre - And the sweet flute bestow some favor; - For Zeus' Pierian daughters - Have wide fame. - - -TO ASOPICHUS OF ORCHOMENOS, ON HIS VICTORY IN THE STADIC COURSE - -OLYMPIA XIV - - O ye, who inhabit for your lot the seat of the Cephisian - Streams, yielding fair steeds, renowned Graces, - Ruling bright Orchomenos, - Protectors of the ancient race of Minyæ, - Hear, when I pray. - For with you are all pleasant - And sweet things to mortals; - If wise, if fair, if noble, - Any man. For neither do the gods, - Without the august Graces, - Rule the dance, - Nor feasts; but stewards - Of all works in heaven, - Having placed their seats - By golden-bowed Pythian Apollo, - They reverence the eternal power - Of the Olympian Father. - August Aglaia and song-loving - Euphrosyne, children of the mightiest god, - Hear now, and Thalia loving song, - Beholding this band, in favorable fortune - Lightly dancing; for in Lydian - Manner meditating, - I come celebrating Asopichus, - Since Minya by thy means is victor at the Olympic games. - Now to Persephone's - Black-walled house go, Echo, - Bearing to his father the famous news; - That seeing Cleodamus thou mayest say, - That in renowned Pisa's vale - His son crowned his young hair - With plumes of illustrious contests. - - -TO THE LYRE - -PYTHIA I, 8-11 - - Thou extinguishest even the spear-like bolt - Of everlasting fire. And the eagle sleeps on the sceptre of Zeus, - Drooping his swift wings on either side, - The king of birds. - -PYTHIA I, 25-28 - - Whatever things Zeus has not loved - Are terrified, hearing - The voice of the Pierians, - On earth and the immeasurable sea. - -PYTHIA II, 159-161 - - A plain-spoken man brings advantage to every government,-- - To a monarchy, and when the - Impetuous crowd, and when the wise, rule a city. - -As a whole, the third Pythian Ode, to Hiero, on his victory in the -single-horse race, is one of the most memorable. We extract first the -account of - - -ÆSCULAPIUS - -PYTHIA III, 83-110 - - As many, therefore, as came suffering - From spontaneous ulcers, or wounded - In their limbs with glittering steel, - Or with the far-cast stone, - Or by the summer's heat o'ercome in body, - Or by winter, relieving he saved from - Various ills; some cherishing - With soothing strains, - Others having drunk refreshing draughts, or applying - Remedies to the limbs, others by cutting off he made erect. - But even wisdom is bound by gain, - And gold appearing in the hand persuaded even him, with its - bright reward, - To bring a man from death - Already overtaken. But the Kronian, smiting - With both hands, quickly took away - The breath from his breasts; - And the rushing thunderbolt hurled him to death. - It is necessary for mortal minds - To seek what is reasonable from the divinities, - Knowing what is before the feet, of what destiny we are. - Do not, my soul, aspire to the life - Of the Immortals, but exhaust the practicable means. - -In the conclusion of the ode, the poet reminds the victor, Hiero, that -adversity alternates with prosperity in the life of man, as in the -instance of - - -PELEUS AND CADMUS - -PYTHIA III, 145-205 - - The Immortals distribute to men - With one good two - Evils. The foolish, therefore, - Are not able to bear these with grace, - But the wise, turning the fair outside. - - But thee the lot of good fortune follows, - or surely great Destiny - Looks down upon a king ruling the people, - If on any man. But a secure life - Was not to Peleus, son of Æacus, - Nor to godlike Cadmus, - Who yet are said to have had - The greatest happiness - Of mortals, and who heard - The song of the golden-filleted Muses, - On the mountain, and in seven-gated Thebes, - When the one married fair-eyed Harmonia, - And the other Thetis, the illustrious daughter of wise-counseling - Nereus. - And the gods feasted with both; - And they saw the royal children of Kronos - On golden seats, and received - Marriage gifts; and having exchanged - Former toils for the favor of Zeus, - They made erect the heart. - But in course of time - His three daughters robbed the one - Of some of his serenity by acute - Sufferings; when Father Zeus, forsooth, came - To the lovely couch of white-armed Thyone. - And the other's child, whom only the immortal - Thetis bore in Phthia, losing - His life in war by arrows, - Being consumed by fire excited - The lamentation of the Danaans. - But if any mortal has in his - Mind the way of truth, - It is necessary to make the best - Of what befalls from the blessed. - For various are the blasts - Of high-flying winds. - The happiness of men stays not a long time, - Though fast it follows rushing on. - - Humble in humble estate, lofty in lofty, - I will be; and the attending dæmon - I will always reverence in my mind, - Serving according to my means. - But if Heaven extend to me kind wealth, - I have hope to find lofty fame hereafter. - Nestor and Lycian Sarpedon-- - They are the fame of men-- - From resounding words which skillful artists - Sung, we know. - For virtue through renowned - Song is lasting. - But for few is it easy to obtain. - - -APOLLO - -PYTHIA V, 87-90 - - He bestowed the lyre, - And he gives the muse to whom he wishes, - Bringing peaceful serenity to the breast. - - -MAN - -PYTHIA VIII, 136 - - The phantom of a shadow are men. - - -HYPSEUS' DAUGHTER CYRENE - -PYTHIA IX, 31-44 - - He reared the white-armed child Cyrene, - Who loved neither the alternating motion of the loom, - Nor the superintendence of feasts, - With the pleasures of companions; - But, with javelins of steel - And the sword contending, - To slay wild beasts; - Affording surely much - And tranquil peace to her father's herds; - Spending little sleep - Upon her eyelids, - As her sweet bedfellow, creeping on at dawn. - - -THE HEIGHT OF GLORY - -PYTHIA X, 33-48 - - Fortunate and celebrated - By the wise is that man - Who, conquering by his hands or virtue - Of his feet, takes the highest prizes - Through daring and strength, - And living still sees his youthful son - Deservedly obtaining Pythian crowns. - The brazen heaven is not yet accessible to him. - But whatever glory we - Of mortal race may reach, - He goes beyond, even to the boundaries - Of navigation. But neither in ships, nor going on foot, - Couldst thou find the wonderful way to the contests of the - Hyperboreans. - - -TO ARISTOCLIDES, VICTOR AT THE NEMEAN GAMES - -NEMEA III, 32-37 - - If, being beautiful, - And doing things like to his form, - The child of Aristophanes - Went to the height of manliness, no further - Is it easy to go over the untraveled sea, - Beyond the Pillars of Hercules. - - -THE YOUTH OF ACHILLES - -NEMEA III, 69-90 - - One with native virtues - Greatly prevails; but he who - Possesses acquired talents, an obscure man, - Aspiring to various things, never with fearless - Foot advances, but tries - A myriad virtues with inefficient mind. - Yellow-haired Achilles, meanwhile, remaining in the house of - Philyra, - Being a boy played - Great deeds; often brandishing - Iron-pointed javelins in his hands, - Swift as the winds, in fight he wrought death to savage lions; - And he slew boars, and brought their bodies - Palpitating to Kronian Centaurus, - As soon as six years old. And all the while - Artemis and bold Athene admired him, - Slaying stags without dogs or treacherous nets; - For he conquered them on foot. - -NEMEA IV, 66-70 - - Whatever virtues sovereign destiny has given me, - I well know that time, creeping on, - Will fulfill what was fated. - -NEMEA V, 1-8 - -The kindred of Pytheas, a victor in the Nemean games, had wished to -procure an ode from Pindar for less than three drachmæ, asserting that -they could purchase a statue for that sum. In the following lines he -nobly reproves their meanness, and asserts the value of his labors, -which, unlike those of the statuary, will bear the fame of the hero to -the ends of the earth. - - No image-maker am I, who being still make statues - Standing on the same base. But on every - Merchant-ship and in every boat, sweet song, - Go from Ægina to announce that Lampo's son, - Mighty Pytheas, - Has conquered the pancratian crown at the Nemean games. - - -THE DIVINE IN MAN - -NEMEA VI, 1-13 - - One the race of men and of gods; - And from one mother - We all breathe. - But quite different power - Divides us, so that the one is nothing, - But the brazen heaven remains always - A secure abode. Yet in some respect we are related, - Either in mighty mind or form, to the Immortals; - Although not knowing - To what resting-place, - By day or night, Fate has written that we shall run. - - -THE TREATMENT OF AJAX - -NEMEA VIII, 44-51 - - In secret votes the Danaans aided Ulysses; - And Ajax, deprived of golden arms, struggled with death. - Surely, wounds of another kind they wrought - In the warm flesh of their foes, waging war - With the man-defending spear. - - -THE VALUE OF FRIENDS - -NEMEA VIII, 68-75 - - Virtue increases, being sustained by wise men and just, - As when a tree shoots up with gentle dews into the liquid air. - There are various uses of friendly men; - But chiefest in labors; and even pleasure - Requires to place some pledge before the eyes. - - -DEATH OF AMPHIARAUS - -NEMEA IX, 41-66 - - Once they led to seven-gated Thebes an army of men, not according - To the lucky flight of birds. Nor did the Kronian, - Brandishing his lightning, impel to march - From home insane, but to abstain from the way. - But to apparent destruction - The host made haste to go, with brazen arms - And horse equipments, and on the banks - Of Ismenus, defending sweet return, - Their white-flowered bodies fattened fire. - For seven pyres devoured young-limbed - Men. But to Amphiaraus - Zeus rent the deep-bosomed earth - With his mighty thunderbolt, - And buried him with his horses, - Ere, being struck in the back - By the spear of Periclymenus, his warlike - Spirit was disgraced. - For in dæmonic fears - Flee even the sons of gods. - - -CASTOR AND POLLUX - -NEMEA X, 153-171 - -Pollux, son of Zeus, shared his immortality with his brother Castor, -son of Tyndarus, and while one was in heaven, the other remained in -the infernal regions, and they alternately lived and died every day, -or, as some say, every six months. While Castor lies mortally wounded -by Idas, Pollux prays to Zeus, either to restore his brother to life, -or permit him to die with him, to which the god answers,-- - - Nevertheless, I give thee - Thy choice of these: if, indeed, fleeing - Death and odious age, - You wish to dwell on Olympus, - With Athene and black-speared Mars, - Thou hast this lot; - But if thou thinkest to fight - For thy brother, and share - All things with him, - Half the time thou mayest breathe, being beneath the earth, - And half in the golden halls of heaven. - The god thus having spoken, he did not - Entertain a double wish in his mind. - And he released first the eye, and then the voice, - Of brazen-mitred Castor. - - -TOIL - -ISTHMIA I, 65-71 - - One reward of labors is sweet to one man, one to another,-- - To the shepherd, and the plower, and the bird-catcher, - And whom the sea nourishes. - But every one is tasked to ward off - Grievous famine from the stomach. - - -THE VENALITY OF THE MUSE - -ISTHMIA II, 9-18 - - Then the Muse was not - Fond of gain, nor a laboring woman; - Nor were the sweet-sounding, - Soothing strains - Of Terpsichore sold, - With silvered front. - But now she directs to observe the saying - Of the Argive, coming very near the truth, - Who cried, "Money, money, man," - Being bereft of property and friends. - - -HERCULES' PRAYER CONCERNING AJAX, SON OF TELAMON - -ISTHMIA VI, 62-73 - - "If ever, O Father Zeus, thou hast heard - My supplication with willing mind, - Now I beseech thee, with prophetic - Prayer, grant a bold son from Eriboea - To this man, my fated guest; - Rugged in body - As the hide of this wild beast - Which now surrounds me, which, first of all - My contests, I slew once in Nemea; and let his mind agree." - To him thus having spoken, Heaven sent - A great eagle, king of birds, - And sweet joy thrilled him inwardly. - - -THE FREEDOM OF GREECE - - First at Artemisium - The children of the Athenians laid the shining - Foundation of freedom, - And at Salamis and Mycale, - And in Platæa, making it firm - As adamant. - - -FROM STRABO[7] - -APOLLO - - Having risen he went - Over land and sea, - And stood over the vast summits of mountains, - And threaded the recesses, penetrating to the foundations of - the groves. - - -FROM PLUTARCH - - Heaven being willing, even on an osier thou mayest sail. -[Thus rhymed by the old translator of Plutarch: - - "Were it the will of heaven, an osier bough - Were vessel safe enough the seas to plough."] - - -FROM SEXTUS EMPIRICUS - - Honors and crowns of the tempest-footed - Horses delight one; - Others live in golden chambers; - And some even are pleased traversing securely - The swelling of the sea in a swift ship. - - -FROM STOBÆUS - - This I will say to thee: - The lot of fair and pleasant things - It behooves to show in public to all the people; - But if any adverse calamity sent from heaven befall - Men, this it becomes to bury in darkness. - - * * * * * - -Pindar said of the physiologists, that they "plucked the unripe fruit -of wisdom." - - * * * * * - -Pindar said that "hopes were the dreams of those awake." - - -FROM CLEMENS OF ALEXANDRIA - - To Heaven it is possible from black - Night to make arise unspotted light, - And with cloud-blackening darkness to obscure - The pure splendor of day. - - First, indeed, the Fates brought the wise-counseling - Uranian Themis, with golden horses, - By the fountains of Ocean to the awful ascent - Of Olympus, along the shining way, - To be the first spouse of Zeus the Deliverer. - And she bore the golden-filleted, fair-wristed - Hours, preservers of good things. - - Equally tremble before God - And a man dear to God. - - -FROM ÆLIUS ARISTIDES - -Pindar used such exaggerations [in praise of poetry] as to say that -even the gods themselves, when at his marriage Zeus asked if they -wanted anything, "asked him to make certain gods for them who should -celebrate these great works and all his creation with speech and -song." - -FOOTNOTE: - -[7] [This and the following are fragments of Pindar found in ancient -authors.] - - - - -POEMS - - -NATURE - - O Nature! I do not aspire - To be the highest in thy quire,-- - To be a meteor in the sky, - Or comet that may range on high; - Only a zephyr that may blow - Among the reeds by the river low; - Give me thy most privy place - Where to run my airy race. - - In some withdrawn, unpublic mead - Let me sigh upon a reed, - Or in the woods, with leafy din, - Whisper the still evening in: - Some still work give me to do,-- - Only--be it near to you! - - For I'd rather be thy child - And pupil, in the forest wild, - Than be the king of men elsewhere, - And most sovereign slave of care: - To have one moment of thy dawn, - Than share the city's year forlorn. - - -INSPIRATION[8] - - Whate'er we leave to God, God does, - And blesses us; - The work we choose should be our own, - God leaves alone. - - * * * * * - - If with light head erect I sing, - Though all the Muses lend their force, - From my poor love of anything, - The verse is weak and shallow as its source. - - But if with bended neck I grope, - Listening behind me for my wit, - With faith superior to hope, - More anxious to keep back than forward it, - - Making my soul accomplice there - Unto the flame my heart hath lit, - Then will the verse forever wear,-- - Time cannot bend the line which God hath writ. - - Always the general show of things - Floats in review before my mind, - And such true love and reverence brings, - That sometimes I forget that I am blind. - - But now there comes unsought, unseen, - Some clear divine electuary, - And I, who had but sensual been, - Grow sensible, and as God is, am wary. - - I hearing get, who had but ears, - And sight, who had but eyes before; - I moments live, who lived but years, - And truth discern, who knew but learning's lore. - - I hear beyond the range of sound, - I see beyond the range of sight, - New earths and skies and seas around, - And in my day the sun doth pale his light. - - A clear and ancient harmony - Pierces my soul through all its din, - As through its utmost melody,-- - Farther behind than they, farther within. - - More swift its bolt than lightning is. - Its voice than thunder is more loud, - It doth expand my privacies - To all, and leave me single in the crowd. - - It speaks with such authority, - With so serene and lofty tone, - That idle Time runs gadding by, - And leaves me with Eternity alone. - - Then chiefly is my natal hour, - And only then my prime of life; - Of manhood's strength it is the flower, - 'T is peace's end, and war's beginning strife. - - 'T hath come in summer's broadest noon, - By a gray wall or some chance place, - Unseasoned time, insulted June, - And vexed the day with its presuming face. - - Such fragrance round my couch it makes, - More rich than are Arabian drugs, - That my soul scents its life and wakes - The body up beneath its perfumed rugs. - - Such is the Muse, the heavenly maid, - The star that guides our mortal course, - Which shows where life's true kernel's laid, - Its wheat's fine flour, and its undying force. - - She with one breath attunes the spheres, - And also my poor human heart, - With one impulse propels the years - Around, and gives my throbbing pulse its start. - - I will not doubt for evermore, - Nor falter from a steadfast faith, - For though the system be turned o'er, - God takes not back the word which once he saith. - - I will, then, trust the love untold - Which not my worth nor want has bought, - Which wooed me young, and wooes me old, - And to this evening hath me brought. - - My memory I'll educate - To know the one historic truth, - Remembering to the latest date - The only true and sole immortal youth. - - Be but thy inspiration given, - No matter through what danger sought, - I'll fathom hell or climb to heaven, - And yet esteem that cheap which love has bought. - - * * * * * - - Fame cannot tempt the bard - Who's famous with his God, - Nor laurel him reward - Who hath his Maker's nod. - - -THE AURORA OF GUIDO[9] - -A FRAGMENT - - The god of day his car rolls up the slopes, - Reining his prancing steeds with steady hand; - The lingering moon through western shadows gropes, - While morning sheds its light o'er sea and land. - - Castles and cities by the sounding main - Resound with all the busy din of life; - The fisherman unfurls his sails again; - And the recruited warrior bides the strife. - - The early breeze ruffles the poplar leaves; - The curling waves reflect the unseen light; - The slumbering sea with the day's impulse heaves, - While o'er the western hill retires the drowsy night. - - The seabirds dip their bills in Ocean's foam, - Far circling out over the frothy waves,-- - - * * * * * - - -TO THE MAIDEN IN THE EAST[10] - - Low in the eastern sky - Is set thy glancing eye; - And though its gracious light - Ne'er riseth to my sight, - Yet every star that climbs - Above the gnarlèd limbs - Of yonder hill, - Conveys thy gentle will. - - Believe I knew thy thought, - And that the zephyrs brought - Thy kindest wishes through, - As mine they bear to you; - That some attentive cloud - Did pause amid the crowd - Over my head, - While gentle things were said. - - Believe the thrushes sung, - And that the flower-bells rung, - That herbs exhaled their scent, - And beasts knew what was meant, - The trees a welcome waved, - And lakes their margins laved, - When thy free mind - To my retreat did wind. - - It was a summer eve, - The air did gently heave - While yet a low-hung cloud - Thy eastern skies did shroud; - The lightning's silent gleam, - Startling my drowsy dream, - Seemed like the flash - Under thy dark eyelash. - - From yonder comes the sun, - But soon his course is run, - Rising to trivial day - Along his dusty way; - But thy noontide completes - Only auroral heats, - Nor ever sets, - To hasten vain regrets. - - Direct thy pensive eye - Into the western sky; - And when the evening star - Does glimmer from afar - Upon the mountain line, - Accept it for a sign - That I am near, - And thinking of thee here. - - I'll be thy Mercury, - Thou Cytherea to me, - Distinguished by thy face - The earth shall learn my place; - As near beneath thy light - Will I outwear the night, - With mingled ray - Leading the westward way. - - Still will I strive to be - As if thou wert with me; - Whatever path I take, - It shall be for thy sake, - Of gentle slope and wide, - As thou wert by my side, - Without a root - To trip thy gentle foot. - - I'll walk with gentle pace, - And choose the smoothest place, - And careful dip the oar, - And shun the winding shore, - And gently steer my boat - Where water-lilies float, - And cardinal-flowers - Stand in their sylvan bowers. - - -TO MY BROTHER - - Brother, where dost thou dwell? - What sun shines for thee now? - Dost thou indeed fare well, - As we wished thee here below? - - What season didst thou find? - 'Twas winter here. - Are not the Fates more kind - Than they appear? - - Is thy brow clear again - As in thy youthful years? - And was that ugly pain - The summit of thy fears? - - Yet thou wast cheery still; - They could not quench thy fire; - Thou didst abide their will, - And then retire. - - Where chiefly shall I look - To feel thy presence near? - Along the neighboring brook - May I thy voice still hear? - - Dost thou still haunt the brink - Of yonder river's tide? - And may I ever think - That thou art by my side? - - What bird wilt thou employ - To bring me word of thee? - For it would give them joy-- - 'T would give them liberty-- - To serve their former lord - With wing and minstrelsy. - - A sadder strain mixed with their song, - They've slowlier built their nests; - Since thou art gone - Their lively labor rests. - - Where is the finch, the thrush, - I used to hear? - Ah, they could well abide - The dying year. - - Now they no more return, - I hear them not; - They have remained to mourn, - Or else forgot. - - -GREECE[11] - - When life contracts into a vulgar span, - And human nature tires to be a man, - I thank the gods for Greece, - That permanent realm of peace. - For as the rising moon far in the night - Checkers the shade with her forerunning light, - So in my darkest hour my senses seem - To catch from her Acropolis a gleam. - - Greece, who am I that should remember thee, - Thy Marathon and thy Thermopylæ? - Is my life vulgar, my fate mean, - Which on such golden memories can lean? - - -THE FUNERAL BELL - - One more is gone - Out of the busy throng - That tread these paths; - The church-bell tolls, - Its sad knell rolls - To many hearths. - - Flower-bells toll not, - Their echoes roll not - Upon my ear; - There still, perchance, - That gentle spirit haunts - A fragrant bier. - - Low lies the pall, - Lowly the mourners all - Their passage grope; - No sable hue - Mars the serene blue - Of heaven's cope. - - In distant dell - Faint sounds the funeral bell; - A heavenly chime; - Some poet there - Weaves the light-burthened air - Into sweet rhyme. - - -THE MOON - - Time wears her not; she doth his chariot guide; - Mortality below her orb is placed. - - RALEIGH. - - The full-orbed moon with unchanged ray - Mounts up the eastern sky, - Not doomed to these short nights for aye, - But shining steadily. - - She does not wane, but my fortune, - Which her rays do not bless; - My wayward path declineth soon, - But she shines not the less. - - And if she faintly glimmers here, - And palèd is her light, - Yet alway in her proper sphere - She's mistress of the night. - - -THE FALL OF THE LEAF[12] - - Thank God who seasons thus the year, - And sometimes kindly slants his rays; - For in his winter he's most near - And plainest seen upon the shortest days. - - Who gently tempers now his heats. - And then his harsher cold, lest we - Should surfeit on the summer's sweets, - Or pine upon the winter's crudity. - - A sober mind will walk alone, - Apart from nature, if need be, - And only its own seasons own: - For nature leaving its humanity. - - Sometimes a late autumnal thought - Has crossed my mind in green July, - And to its early freshness brought - Late ripened fruits, and an autumnal sky. - - The evening of the year draws on, - The fields a later aspect wear; - Since Summer's garishness is gone, - Some grains of night tincture the noontide air. - - Behold! the shadows of the trees - Now circle wider 'bout their stem, - Like sentries that by slow degrees - Perform their rounds, gently protecting them. - - And as the year doth decline, - The sun allows a scantier light; - Behind each needle of the pine - There lurks a small auxiliar to the night. - - I hear the cricket's slumbrous lay - Around, beneath me, and on high; - It rocks the night, it soothes the day, - And everywhere is Nature's lullaby. - - But most he chirps beneath the sod, - When he has made his winter bed; - His creak grown fainter but more broad, - A film of autumn o'er the summer spread. - - Small birds, in fleets migrating by, - Now beat across some meadow's bay, - And as they tack and veer on high, - With faint and hurried click beguile the way. - - Far in the woods, these golden days, - Some leaf obeys its Maker's call; - And through their hollow aisles it plays - With delicate touch the prelude of the Fall. - - Gently withdrawing from its stem, - It lightly lays itself along - Where the same hand hath pillowed them, - Resigned to sleep upon the old year's throng. - - The loneliest birch is brown and sere, - The farthest pool is strewn with leaves, - Which float upon their watery bier, - Where is no eye that sees, no heart that grieves. - - The jay screams through the chestnut wood; - The crisped and yellow leaves around - Are hue and texture of my mood, - And these rough burs my heirlooms on the ground. - - The threadbare trees, so poor and thin, - They are no wealthier than I; - But with as brave a core within - They rear their boughs to the October sky. - - Poor knights they are which bravely wait - The charge of Winter's cavalry, - Keeping a simple Roman state, - Discumbered of their Persian luxury. - - -THE THAW - - I saw the civil sun drying earth's tears, - Her tears of joy that only faster flowed.[13] - - Fain would I stretch me by the highway-side - To thaw and trickle with the melting snow; - That mingled, soul and body, with the tide, - I too may through the pores of nature flow. - - -A WINTER SCENE[14] - - The rabbit leaps, - The mouse out-creeps, - The flag out-peeps - Beside the brook; - The ferret weeps, - The marmot sleeps, - The owlet keeps - In his snug nook. - - The apples thaw, - The ravens caw, - The squirrels gnaw - The frozen fruit. - To their retreat - I track the feet - Of mice that eat - The apple's root. - - The snow-dust falls, - The otter crawls, - The partridge calls, - Far in the wood. - The traveler dreams, - The tree-ice gleams, - The blue jay screams - In angry mood. - - The willows droop, - The alders stoop, - The pheasants group - Beneath the snow. - The catkins green - Cast o'er the scene - A summer's sheen, - A genial glow. - - -TO A STRAY FOWL - - Poor bird! destined to lead thy life - Far in the adventurous west, - And here to be debarred to-night - From thy accustomed nest; - Must thou fall back upon old instinct now, - Well-nigh extinct under man's fickle care? - Did heaven bestow its quenchless inner light, - So long ago, for thy small want to-night? - Why stand'st upon thy toes to crow so late? - The moon is deaf to thy low feathered fate; - Or dost thou think so to possess the night, - And people the drear dark with thy brave sprite? - And now with anxious eye thou look'st about, - While the relentless shade draws on its veil, - For some sure shelter from approaching dews, - And the insidious steps of nightly foes. - I fear imprisonment has dulled thy wit, - Or ingrained servitude extinguished it. - But no; dim memory of the days of yore, - By Brahmapootra and the Jumna's shore, - Where thy proud race flew swiftly o'er the heath, - And sought its food the jungle's shade beneath, - Has taught thy wings to seek yon friendly trees, - As erst by Indus' banks and far Ganges. - - -POVERTY - -A FRAGMENT - - If I am poor, - It is that I am proud; - If God has made me naked and a boor, - He did not think it fit his work to shroud. - - The poor man comes direct from heaven to earth, - As stars drop down the sky, and tropic beams; - The rich receives in our gross air his birth, - As from low suns are slanted golden gleams. - - Yon sun is naked, bare of satellite, - Unless our earth and moon that office hold; - Though his perpetual day feareth no night, - And his perennial summer dreads no cold. - - Mankind may delve, but cannot my wealth spend; - If I no partial wealth appropriate, - No armèd ships unto the Indies send, - None robs me of my Orient estate. - - -PILGRIMS - - "Have you not seen, - In ancient times, - Pilgrims pass by - Toward other climes, - With shining faces, - Youthful and strong, - Mounting this hill - With speech and with song?" - - "Ah, my good sir, - I know not those ways; - Little my knowledge, - Tho' many my days. - When I have slumbered, - I have heard sounds - As of travelers passing - These my grounds. - - "'T was a sweet music - Wafted them by, - I could not tell - If afar off or nigh. - Unless I dreamed it, - This was of yore: - I never told it - To mortal before, - Never remembered - But in my dreams - What to me waking - A miracle seems." - - -THE DEPARTURE - - In this roadstead I have ridden, - In this covert I have hidden; - Friendly thoughts were cliffs to me, - And I hid beneath their lee. - - This true people took the stranger, - And warm-hearted housed the ranger; - They received their roving guest, - And have fed him with the best; - - Whatsoe'er the land afforded - To the stranger's wish accorded; - Shook the olive, stripped the vine, - And expressed the strengthening wine. - - And by night they did spread o'er him - What by day they spread before him;-- - That good-will which was repast - Was his covering at last. - - The stranger moored him to their pier - Without anxiety or fear; - By day he walked the sloping land, - By night the gentle heavens he scanned. - - When first his bark stood inland - To the coast of that far Finland, - Sweet-watered brooks came tumbling to the shore - The weary mariner to restore. - - And still he stayed from day to day - If he their kindness might repay; - But more and more - The sullen waves came rolling toward the shore. - - And still the more the stranger waited, - The less his argosy was freighted, - And still the more he stayed, - The less his debt was paid. - - So he unfurled his shrouded mast - To receive the fragrant blast; - And that sane refreshing gale - Which had wooed him to remain - Again and again, - It was that filled his sail - And drove him to the main. - - All day the low-hung clouds - Dropt tears into the sea; - And the wind amid the shrouds - Sighed plaintively. - - -INDEPENDENCE[15] - - My life more civil is and free - Than any civil polity. - - Ye princes, keep your realms - And circumscribèd power, - Not wide as are my dreams, - Nor rich as is this hour. - - What can ye give which I have not? - What can ye take which I have got? - Can ye defend the dangerless? - Can ye inherit nakedness? - - To all true wants Time's ear is deaf, - Penurious states lend no relief - Out of their pelf: - But a free soul--thank God-- - Can help itself. - - Be sure your fate - Doth keep apart its state, - Not linked with any band, - Even the noblest of the land; - - In tented fields with cloth of gold - No place doth hold, - But is more chivalrous than they are, - And sigheth for a nobler war; - A finer strain its trumpet sings, - A brighter gleam its armor flings. - - The life that I aspire to live - No man proposeth me; - No trade upon the street[16] - Wears its emblazonry. - - -DING DONG[17] - - When the world grows old by the chimney-side - Then forth to the youngling nooks I glide, - Where over the water and over the land - The bells are booming on either hand. - - Now up they go ding, then down again dong, - And awhile they ring to the same old song, - For the metal goes round at a single bound, - A-cutting the fields with its measured sound, - While the tired tongue falls with a lengthened boom - As solemn and loud as the crack of doom. - - Then changed is their measure to tone upon tone, - And seldom it is that one sound comes alone, - For they ring out their peals in a mingled throng, - And the breezes waft the loud ding-dong along. - - When the echo hath reached me in this lone vale, - I am straightway a hero in coat of mail, - I tug at my belt and I march on my post, - And feel myself more than a match for a host. - - -OMNIPRESENCE - - Who equaleth the coward's haste, - And still inspires the faintest heart; - Whose lofty fame is not disgraced, - Though it assume the lowest part. - - -INSPIRATION - - If thou wilt but stand by my ear, - When through the field thy anthem's rung, - When that is done I will not fear - But the same power will abet my tongue. - - -MISSION - - I've searched my faculties around, - To learn why life to me was lent: - I will attend the faintest sound, - And then declare to man what God hath meant. - - -DELAY - - No generous action can delay - Or thwart our higher, steadier aims; - But if sincere and true are they, - It will arouse our sight, and nerve our frames. - - -PRAYER - - Great God! I ask thee for no meaner pelf - Than that I may not disappoint myself; - That in my action I may soar as high - As I can now discern with this clear eye; - - And next in value, which thy kindness lends, - That I may greatly disappoint my friends, - Howe'er they think or hope it that may be, - They may not dream how thou 'st distinguished me; - - That my weak hand may equal my firm faith, - And my life practice more than my tongue saith; - That my low conduct may not show, - Nor my relenting lines, - That I thy purpose did not know, - Or overrated thy designs. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[8] [Eighteen lines of this poem appear in _Week_, pp. 181, 182, 351, -372.] - -[9] ["Suggested by the print of Guido's 'Aurora' sent by Mrs. Carlyle -as a wedding gift to Mrs. Emerson." (Note in _Poems of Nature_.)] - -[10] [Five stanzas of this poem appear in _Week_, pp. 46, 47.] - -[11] [The last four lines appear in _Week_, p. 54.] - -[12] ["The first four of these stanzas (unnamed by Thoreau) were -published in the Boston _Commonwealth_ in 1863, under the title of -'The Soul's Season,' the remainder as 'The Fall of the Leaf.' There -can be little doubt that they are parts of one complete poem." (Note -in _Poems of Nature_.)] - -[13] [See p. 120.] - -[14] ["These stanzas formed part of the original manuscript of the -essay on 'A Winter Walk,' but were excluded by Emerson." (Note in -_Poems of Nature_.)] - -[15] ["First printed in full in the Boston _Commonwealth_, October 30, -1863. The last fourteen lines had appeared in _The Dial_ under the -title of 'The Black Knight,' and are so reprinted in the Riverside -Edition." (Note in _Poems of Nature_.)] - -[16] [In _The Dial_ this line reads, "Only the promise of my heart."] - -[17] ["A copy of this hitherto unpublished poem has been kindly -furnished by Miss A. J. Ward." (Note in _Poems of Nature_.)] - - - - -A LIST OF THE POEMS AND BITS OF VERSE SCATTERED AMONG THOREAU'S PROSE -WRITINGS EXCLUSIVE OF THE JOURNAL - - * * * * * - -A WEEK ON THE CONCORD AND MERRIMACK RIVERS - - "The respectable folks" PAGE 7 - - "Ah, 't is in vain the peaceful din" 15 - - "But since we sailed" 16 - - "Here then an aged shepherd dwelt" 16 - - "On Ponkawtasset, since we took our way" 16 - - "Who sleeps by day and walks by night" 41 - - "An early unconverted Saint" 42 - - "Low in the eastern sky" (TO THE MAIDEN IN THE EAST) 46 - - "Dong, sounds the brass in the East" 50 - - "Greece, who am I that should remember thee" 54 - - "Some tumultuous little rill" 62 - - "I make ye an offer" 69 - - "Conscience is instinct bred in the house" (CONSCIENCE) 75 - - "Such water do the gods distill" 86 - - "That Phaeton of our day" 103 - - "Then spend an age in whetting thy desire" 111 - - "Though all the fates should prove unkind" 151 - - "With frontier strength ye stand your ground" (MOUNTAINS) 170 - - "The western wind came lumbering in" 180 - - "Then idle Time ran gadding by" 181 - - "Now chiefly is my natal hour" 182 - - RUMORS FROM AN ÆOLIAN HARP 184 - - "Away! away! away! away!" 186 - - "Ply the oars! away! away!" (RIVER SONG, part) 188 - - "Since that first 'Away! away!'" (RIVER SONG, part) 200 - - "Low-anchored cloud" (MIST) 201 - - "Man's little acts are grand" 224 - - "Our uninquiring corpses lie more low" 227 - - "The waves slowly beat" 229 - - "Woof of the sun, ethereal gauze" (HAZE) 229 - - "Where gleaming fields of haze" 234 - - TRANSLATIONS FROM ANACREON 240 - - "Thus, perchance, the Indian hunter" (BOAT SONG) 247 - - "My life is like a stroll upon the beach" (THE FISHER'S BOY) 255 - - "This is my Carnac, whose unmeasured dome" 267 - - "True kindness is a pure divine affinity" 275 - - "Lately, alas, I knew a gentle boy" (SYMPATHY) 276 - - THE ATLANTIDES 278 - - "My love must be as free" (FREE LOVE) 297 - - "The Good how can we trust?" 298 - - "Nature doth have her dawn each day" 302 - - "Let such pure hate still underprop" (FRIENDSHIP) 305 - - "Men are by birth equal in this, that given" 311 - - The Inward Morning 313 - - "My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read" (THE SUMMER RAIN) 320 - - "My life has been the poem I would have writ" 365 - - THE POET'S DELAY 366 - - "I hearing get, who had but ears" 372 - - "Men dig and dive but cannot my wealth spend" 373 - - "Salmon Brook" 375 - - "Oft, as I turn me on my pillow o'er" 384 - - "I am the autumnal sun" (NATURE'S CHILD) 404 - - "A finer race and finer fed" 407 - - "I am a parcel of vain strivings tied" (SIC VITA) 410 - - "All things are current found" 415 - - -WALDEN - - "Men say they know many things" 46 - - "What's the railroad to me?" 135 - - "It is no dream of mine" 215 - - "Light-winged Smoke, Icarian bird" (SMOKE) 279 - - -THE MAINE WOODS - - "Die and be buried who will" 88 - - -EXCURSIONS - - "Within the circuit of this plodding life" (WINTER MEMORIES) 103 - - "We pronounce thee happy, Cicada" (from Anacreon) 108 - - "His steady sails he never furls" 109 - - RETURN OF SPRING (from Anacreon) 109 - - "Each summer sound" 112 - - "Sometimes I hear the veery's clarion" 112 - - "Upon the lofty elm tree sprays" (THE VIREO) 112 - - "Thou dusky spirit of the wood" (THE CROW) 113 - - "I see the civil sun drying earth's tears" (THE THAW, part) 120 - - "The river swelleth more and more" (A RIVER SCENE) 120 - - "The needles of the pine" 133 - - "With frontier strength ye stand your ground" (MOUNTAINS) 133 - - "Not unconcerned Wachusett rears his head" 144 - - "The sluggish smoke curls up from some deep dell" (SMOKE - IN WINTER) 165 - - "When Winter fringes every bough" (STANZAS WRITTEN AT - WALDEN) 176 - - THE OLD MARLBOROUGH ROAD 214 - - "In two years' time 't had thus" 303 - - - - -INDEX - - - Achilles, The Youth of, translation, 385. - - Acre, an, as long measure, 60. - - Acton (Mass.), 136. - - Æschylus, The Prometheus Bound of, translation, 337-375. - - Æsculapius, translation, 380. - - Agriculture, the task of Americans, 229-231. - - Ajax, The Treatment of, translation, 387. - - Alphonse, Jean, and Falls of Montmorenci, 38, 39; - quoted, 91. - - America, superiorities of, 220-224. - - American, money in Quebec, 24; - the, and government, 82, 83. - - Amphiaraus, The Death of, translation, 387. - - Anacreon, quoted, 108, 109, 110. - - Andropogons, or beard-grasses, 225-258. - - Ange Gardien Parish, 42; - church of, 46. - - Angler's Souvenir, the, 119. - - Apollo, translation, 383. - - Apple, history of the tree, 290-298; - the wild, 299, 300; - the crab-, 301, 302; - growth of the wild, 302-308; - cropped by cattle, 303-307; - the fruit and flavor of the, 308-314; - beauty of the, 314, 315; - naming of the, 315-317; - last gleaning of the, 317-319; - the frozen-thawed, 319, 320; - dying out of the wild, 321, 322. - - Apple-howling, 298. - - Arpent, the, 60. - - Ashburnham (Mass.), 3; - with a better house than any in Canada, 100. - - Ash trees, 6. - - Assabet, the, 136. - - Audubon, John James, reading, 103; 109, note; 112, note. - - Aurora of Guido, The, verse, 399. - - Autumn foliage, brightness of, 249-252. - - AUTUMNAL TINTS, 249-289. - - - Bartram, William, quoted, 199. - - Bathing feet in brooks, 140. - - Beard-grasses, andropogons or, 255-258. - - Beauport (Que.), and _le Chemin de_, 30; - getting lodgings in, 35-38; - church in, 69; - Seigniory of, 96. - - Beaupré, Seigniory of the Côte de, 41. - - "Behold, how spring appearing," verse, 109. - - Bellows Falls (Vt.), 5. - - Birch, yellow, 6. - - Birds and mountains, 149. - - Bittern, booming of the, 111. - - Black Knight, The, verse, 415, note. - - Blueberries, and milk, supper of, 144. - - Bluebird, the, 110. - - Bobolink, the, 113. - - Bodæus, quoted, 317. - - Bolton (Mass.), 137. - - Bonsecours Market (Montreal), 11. - - Books on natural history, reading, 103-105. - - Boots, Canadian, 51. - - Boston (Mass.), 3, 7, 9. - - Boucher, quoted, 91. - - Boucherville (Que.), 20. - - Bouchette, Topographical Description of the Canadas, quoted, 41, - 42, 63, 64, 89, 92, 94, 95. - - Bout de l'Isle, 20. - - Brand's Popular Antiquities quoted, 297, 298. - - Bravery of science, the, 106, 107. - - "Brother, where dost thou dwell?" verse, 403. - - Burlington (Vt.), 7, 99. - - Burton, Sir Richard Francis, 228. - - Butternut tree, 6. - - - Cabs, Montreal, 18; - Quebec, 69, 70. - - Caddis-worms, 170. - - Caen, Emery de, quoted, 52. - - Caleche, the (see Cabs), 69, 70. - - Canada, apparently older than the United States, 80, 81; - population of, 81, 82; - the French in, a nation of peasants, 82. - - _Canadense_, _Iter_, and the word, 101. - - Canadian, French, 9; - horses, 34; - women, 34; - atmosphere, 34; - love of neighborhood, 42, 43; - houses, 44, 59; - clothes, 45; - salutations, 47; - vegetables and trees, 47, 48; - boots, 51; - tenures, 63, 64. - - Cane, a straight and a twisted, 184, 185. - - Cap aux Oyes, 93. - - Cape Diamond, 22, 40; - signal-gun on, 85; - the view from, 88. - - Cape Rosier, 92. - - Cape Rouge, 21, 95. - - Cape Tourmente, 41, 89, 96. - - Cartier, Jacques, 7, and the St. Lawrence, 89-91; - quoted, 97, 98, 99. - - Castor and Pollux, translation, 388. - - Cattle-show, men at, 184. - - Cemetery of fallen leaves, 269, 270. - - Chaleurs, the Bay of, 90. - - Chalmers, Dr., in criticism of Coleridge, 324. - - Chambly (Que.), 11. - - Champlain, Samuel, quoted, 8; - whales in map of, 91. - - Charlevoix, quoted, 52, 91. - - Château Richer, church of, 46, 49; - lodgings at, 59. - - Chaucer, quoted, 159, 160. - - Chaudière River, the, 21; - Falls of the, 69, 70. - - Cheap men, 29, 30. - - Cherry-stones, transported by birds, 188. - - Chickadee, the, 108. - - Chien, La Rivière au, 56. - - Churches, Catholic and Protestant, 12-14; - roadside, 46. - - _Claire Fontaine, La_, 26. - - Clothes, bad-weather, 28; - Canadian, 45. - - Colors, names and joy of, 273-275. - - Concord (Mass.), 3, 6, 8; - History of, quoted, 115, 133, 149, 152. - - Concord River, the, 115, 139. - - Connecticut River, 5, 145, 147. - - _Coureurs de bois_, and _de risques_, 43. - - Crickets, the creaking of, 108. - - Crookneck squash seeds, Quebec, 87. - - Crosses, roadside, 45, 46. - - Crow, the, 108; - not imported from Europe, 113. - - Crystalline botany, 126, 127. - - Culm, bloom in the, 253. - - - Darby, William, quoted, 93, 94. - - Delay, verse, 418. - - Departure, The, verse, 414. - - Ding Dong, verse, 417. - - Dogs in harness, 30. - - Drake, Sir Francis, quoted, 325. - - Dubartas, quoted, translation of Sylvester, 328, 329. - - Ducks, 110. - - - "Each summer sound," verse, 112. - - East Main, Labrador and, health in the words, 104. - - Easterbrooks Country, the, 299, 303. - - Edda, the Prose, quoted, 291. - - Eggs, a master in cooking, 61, 62. - - Elm, the, 263, 264, 276. - - Elysium, translation, 375. - - Emerson, George B., quoted, 200. - - English and French in the New World, 66, 67. - - Entomology, the study of, 107, 108. - - Evelyn, John, quoted, 310, 311. - - _Ex Oriente Lux; ex Occidente Frux_, 221. - - Experiences, the paucity of men's, 241, 242. - - Eyes, the sight of different men's 285-288. - - - Fall of the Leaf, The, verse, 407. - - Fallen Leaves, 264-270. - - Falls, a drug of, 58. - - Fame, translation, 378. - - Fish, spearing, 119, 121-123. - - Fisher, the pickerel, 180, 181. - - Fishes, described in Massachusetts Report, 118. - - Fitchburg (Mass.), 3. - - Fitzwilliam (N. H.), 4. - - Foreign country, quickly in a, 31. - - Forests, nations preserved by, 229. - - Fortifications, ancient and modern, 77, 78. - - Fox, the, 117. - - French, difficulties in talking, 35-37, 47; - strange, 50; - pure, 52; - in the New World, English and, 66-68; - in Canada, 81, 82; - the, spoken in Quebec streets, 86, 87. - - Friends, The Value of, translation, 387. - - Froissart, good place to read, 23. - - Frost-smoke, 166. - - Funeral Bell, The, verse, 405. - - Fur Countries, inspiring neighborhood of the, 105. - - - Garget, poke or, 253-255. - - Geese, first flock of, 110. - - Gesner, Konrad von, quoted, 318. - - Gosse, P. A., Canadian Naturalist, 91. - - Great Brook, 137. - - Great Fields, the, 257. - - "Great God! I ask thee for no meaner pelf," verse, 418. - - Great River, the, or St. Lawrence, 89, 90, 91, 92. - - Greece, verse, 404. - - Greece, The Freedom of, translation, 390. - - Green Mountains, the, 6, 100, 145, 147. - - Grey, the traveler, quoted, 94. - - Grippling for apples, 309. - - Gulls, 110. - - Guyot, Arnold, 93; - quoted, 93, 94, 220, 221. - - - Harvard (Mass.), 151, 152. - - "Have you not seen," verse, 413. - - Hawk, fish, 110. - - Head, Sir Francis, quoted, 47, 221, 222. - - Height of Glory, The, translation,384. - - Hercules, names the Hill of Kronos, translation, 377. - - Hercules' Prayer concerning Ajax, son of Telamon, translation, - 390. - - Herrick, Robert, 298. - - Hickory, the, 264, 265. - - Highlanders in Quebec, 25-27, 28, 29, 79. - - "His steady sails he never furls," verse, 109. - - Hoar-frost, 126, 127. - - Hochelaga, 89, 97, 99. - - Homer, quoted, 181. - - Hoosac Mountains, 147. - - Hop, culture of the, 136, 137. - - Horses, Canadian, 34. - - _Hortus siccus_, nature in winter a, 179. - - House, the perfect, 153. - - Houses, Canadian, 44, 59; - American compared with Canadian, 100. - - Humboldt, Alexander von, 92, 93. - - Hunt House, the old, 201. - - Hypseus' Daughter Cyrene, translation, 383. - - - "I saw the civil sun drying earth's tears," verse, 409. - - "I see the civil sun drying earth's tears," verse, 120. - - Ice, the booming of, 176. - - Ice formations in a river-bank, 128, 129. - - "If I am poor," verse, 412. - - "If thou wilt but stand by my ear," verse, 418. - - "If with light head erect I sing," verse, 396. - - Ignorance, Society for the Diffusion of Useful, 239. - - Imitations of Charette drivers, Yankee, 99. - - "In this roadstead I have ridden," verse, 414. - - "In two years' time 't had thus," verse, 303. - - Independence, verse, 415. - - Indoors, living, 207-209. - - Inn, inscription on wall of Swedish, 141. - - Inspiration, quatrain, 418. - - Inspiration, verse, 396. - - Invertebrate Animals, Report on, quoted, 129. - - "I've searched my faculties around," verse, 418. - - - Jay, the, 108, 199. - - Jesuit Relations, quoted, 96. - - Jesuits' Barracks, the, in Quebec, 24. - - Joel, the prophet, quoted, 322. - - Jonson, Ben, quoted, 226. - - Josselyn, John, quoted, 2. - - - Kalm, Swedish traveler, quoted, 21, 30, 39, 65; - on sea-plants near Quebec, 93. - - Keene (N. H.) Street, 4; - heads like, 4. - - Kent, the Duke of, property of, 38. - - Killington Peak, 6. - - Knowledge, the slow growth of, 181; - Society for the Diffusion of Useful, 239; - true, 240. - - - Labrador and East Main, health in the words, 104. - - Lake, a woodland, in winter, 174, 175. - - Lake Champlain, 6-8. - - Lake St. Peter, 96, 97. - - Lalement, Hierosme, quoted, 22. - - Lancaster (Mass.), 138, 139, 149. - - LANDLORD, THE, 153-162. - - Landlord, qualities of the, 153-162. - - La Prairie (Que.), 11, 18, 99. - - Lark, the, 109, 110. - - Lead, rain of, 26. - - Leaves, fallen, 264-270; - scarlet oak, 278-281. - - Lincoln (Mass.), 282, 283. - - Linnæus, quoted, 222. - - Longueuil (Que.), 20. - - Loudon, John Claudius, quoted, 197, 200, 291, 292, 310. - - "Low in the eastern sky," verse, 400. - - - McCulloch's Geographical Dictionary, quoted, 49. - - McTaggart, John, quoted, 94. - - MacTavish, Simon, 98. - - Man, translation, 383. - - Man, The Divine in, translation, 386. - - Map, drawing, on kitchen table, 60; - of Canada, inspecting a, 95. - - Maple, the red and sugar, 6; - the red, 258-263, 265; - the sugar, 261, 271-278. - - Marañon, the river, 93. - - Marlborough (Mass.), 214. - - Merrimack River, the, 147. - - Michaux, André, quoted, 269. - - Michaux, François André, quoted, 220, 261, 301. - - Midnight, exploring the, 323. - - Miller, a crabbed, 69. - - Milne, Alexander, quoted, 193, 194. - - Mississippi, discovery of the, 90; - extent of the, 93; - a panorama of the, 224. - - Mission, verse, 418. - - Monadnock, 4, 143, 145, 147. - - Montcalm, Wolfe and, monument to, 73, 74. - - Montmorenci County, 62; - the habitans of, 64-68. - - Montmorenci, Falls of, 29, 37-39. - - Montreal (Que.), 9, 11; - described, 14-16; - the mixed population of, 17, 18; - from Quebec to, 96, 97; - and its surroundings, beautiful view of, 98; - the name of, 98. - - Moon, The, verse, 406. - - MOONLIGHT, NIGHT AND, 323-333. - - Moonlight, reading by, 145. - - Moonshine, 324, 325. - - Moore, Thomas, 98. - - Morning, winter, early, 163-166. - - Morton, Thomas, 2. - - Mount Royal (Montreal), 11. - - Mountains, the use of, 148, 149; - and plain, influence of the, 150, 151. - - Muse, The Venality of the, translation, 389. - - Musketaquid, Prairie, or Concord River, 115. - - Muskrat, the, 114-117. - - Mussel, the, 129. - - "My life more civil is and free," verse, 415. - - - Names, poetry in, 20; - of places, French, 56, 57; - men's, 236, 237; - of colors, 273, 274. - - NATURAL HISTORY OF MASSACHUSETTS, 103-131. - - Natural history, reading books of, 103, 105. - - Nature, health to be found in, 105; - man's work the most natural, compared with that of, 119; - the hand of, upon her children, 124, 125; - different methods of work, 125; - the civilized look of, 141; - the winter purity of, 167; - a _hortus siccus_ in, 179; - men's relation to, 241, 242. - - Nature, verse, 395. - - Nawshawtuct Hill, 384. - - New things to be seen near home, 211, 212. - - Niebuhr, Barthold Georg, quoted, 290. - - Niepce, Joseph Nicéphore, quoted, 238. - - NIGHT AND MOONLIGHT, 323-333. - - Night, on Wachusett, 146; - the senses in the, 327, 328. - - "No generous action can delay," verse, 418. - - Nobscot Hill, 303, 304. - - Norumbega, 90. - - "Not unconcerned Wachusett rears his head," verse, 144. - - Notre Dame (Montreal), 11; - a visit to, 12-14. - - Notre Dame des Anges, Seigniory of, 96. - - Nurse-plants, 193. - - Nuthatch, the, 108. - - Nuttall, Thomas, quoted, 111, 112. - - - Oak, succeeding pine, and _vice versa_, 185, 187, 189; - the scarlet, 278-281; - leaves, scarlet, 278-280. - - Ogilby, America of 1670, quoted, 91. - - Old Marlborough Road, The, verse, 214. - - Olympia at Evening, translation, 378. - - Omnipresence, verse, 417. - - "O Nature! I do not aspire," verse, 395. - - "One more is gone," verse, 405. - - Origin of Rhodes, translation, 376. - - Orinoco, the river, 93. - - Orleans, Isle of, 41, 42. - - Orsinora, 90. - - Ortelius, _Theatrum Orbis Terrarum_, 89. - - Ossian, quoted, 332. - - Ottawa River, the, 41, 94, 98. - - _Oui_, the repeated, 60. - - - Palladius, quoted, 294, 308. - - Patent office, seeds sent by the, 203. - - Peleus and Cadmus, translation, 381. - - Penobscot Indians, use of muskrat-skins by, 116, 117. - - Perch, the, 123. - - Phoebe, the, 112. - - Pickerel-fisher, the, 180, 181. - - Pies, no, in Quebec, 86. - - Pilgrims, verse, 413. - - _Pinbéna_, the, 48. - - Pindar, Translations from, 375. - - Pine, oak succeeding, and _vice versa_, 185, 187, 189; - family, a, 243, 244. - - Pine cone, stripped by squirrels, 196. - - Plain and mountain, life of the, 151. - - Plants on Cape Diamond, Quebec, 27. - - Plicipennes, 170. - - Pliny, the Elder, quoted, 292. - - Plover, the, 112. - - Plum, beach, 201. - - POEMS, 393-419. - - Point Levi, by ferry to, 70; - a night at, 71; 89. - - Pointe aux Trembles, 20, 21. - - Poke, or garget, the, 253-255. - - _Pommettes_, 39. - - "Poor bird! destined to lead thy life," verse, 411. - - Potherie, quoted, 52. - - Poverty, verse, 412. - - Prairie River, Musketaquid or, 115. - - Prayer, verse, 418. - - Prometheus Bound of Æschylus, The, translation, 337. - - Purana, the, quoted, 327. - - Purple Grasses, The, 252-258. - - - Quail, a white, 109, note. - - Quebec (Que.), 3, 20, 21; - approach to, 22; - harbor and population of, 22; - mediævalism of, 23, 26; - the citadel, 27-30, 76-80; - fine view of, 49; - reëntering, through St. John's Gate, 69; - lights in the lower town, 71; - landing again at, 72; - walk round the Upper Town, 72-76; - the walls and gates, 74, 75; - artillery barracks, 75; - mounted guns, 76; - restaurants, 85, 86; - scenery of, 87-89; - origin of word, 88; - departure from, 95. - - - Rainbow in Falls of the Chaudière, 70, 71. - - Raleigh, Sir Walter, quoted, 329. - - Reports on the natural history of Massachusetts, 103, 114, 118, - 123, 129, 130. - - Return of Spring, verse, 109. - - Rhexia, 252. - - Richelieu, Isles of, 96. - - Richelieu or St. John's River, 8. - - Richelieu Rapids, the, 21. - - Richter, Jean Paul, quoted, 330, 331. - - River, the flow of a, 178. - - River-bank, ice formations in a, 128, 129. - - Rivière du Sud, the, 92. - - Rivière more meandering than River, 56. - - Roberval, Sieur de, 95, 96. - - Robin, the, 109; - a white, 109, note. - - Robin Hood Ballads, quoted, 150, 207. - - Rowlandson, Mrs., 149. - - - St. Anne, the Falls of, 40; - Church of _La Bonne_, 49; - lodgings in village of, 49-51; - interior of the church of _La Bonne_, 51, 52; - Falls of, described, 52-55. - - St. Charles River, the, 30. - - St. Helen's Island (Montreal), 11. - - St. John's (Que.), 9, 10. - - St. John's River, 8. - - St. Lawrence River, 11; - cottages along the, 21; - banks of the, above Quebec, 40, 41; - breadth of, 49; - or Great River, 89-95; - old maps of, 89, 90, 92; - compared with other rivers, 90, 92-95. - - St. Maurice River, 94. - - Saguenay River, 91, 94. - - Salutations, Canadian, 47. - - Sault à la Puce, Rivière du, 48, 58. - - Sault Norman, 11. - - Sault St. Louis, 11. - - Saunter, derivation of the word, 205, 206. - - Scarlet Oak, The, 278-285. - - Schoolhouse, a Canadian, 46. - - Science, the bravery of, 106, 107. - - Scotchman dissatisfied with Canada, a, 75. - - Scriptures, Hebrew, inadequacy of regarding winter, 183. - - Sea-plants near Quebec, 93. - - Seeds, the transportation of, by wind, 186, 187; - by birds, 187-189; - by squirrels, 190-200; - the vitality of, 200-203. - - Seeing, individual, 285-288. - - Selenites, 323. - - Sign language, 61. - - Sillery (Que.), 22. - - Silliman, Benjamin, quoted, 98. - - Skating, 177, 178. - - Smoke, winter morning, 165; - seen from a hilltop, 173, 174. - - Snake, the, 123, 124. - - Snipe-shooting grounds, 48. - - Snow, 181, 182; - not recognized in Hebrew Scriptures, 183. - - Snowbird, the, 109. - - Society, health not to be found in, 105. - - Soldiers, English, in Canada, 9, 10, 16, 17; - in Quebec, 24-27, 79, 80. - - Solomon, quoted, 291. - - "Sometimes I hear the veery's clarion," verse, 112. - - Sounds, winter morning, 163, 164. - - Sorel River, 8. - - Sparrow, the song, 109. - - Spaulding's farm, 243. - - Spearing fish, 121-123. - - Speech, country, 137. - - Spring, on the Concord River, 119-121. - - Squash, the large yellow, 203. - - Squirrel, a red, burying nuts, 190, 191; - with nuts under snow, 195; - pine cones stripped by the, 196; - with filled cheek-pouches, 198. - - Stars, the, 328, 329. - - Stillriver Village (Mass.), 151. - - Stillwater, the, 140, 142. - - Stow (Mass.), 136. - - SUCCESSION OF FOREST TREES, THE, 184-204. - - Sudbury (Mass.), 303. - - Sugar Maple, The, 271-278. - - Sunset, a remarkable, 246-248. - - - Tamias, the steward squirrel, 198. - - Tavern, the gods' interest in the, 153; - compared with the church, the, 161, 162. - - Tenures, Canadian, 63. - - "Thank God, who seasons thus the year," verse, 407. - - Thaw, The, verse, 409. - - "The full-orbed moon with unchanged ray," verse, 406. - - "The god of day his car rolls up the slopes," verse, 399. - - "The needles of the pine," verse, 133. - - "The rabbit leaps," verse, 410. - - "The river swelleth more and more," verse, 120. - - "The sluggish smoke curls up from some deep dell," verse, 165. - - Theophrastus, 292. - - Thomson, James, quoted, 249. - - Thoreau, Henry David, leaves Concord for Canada, 25th September, - 1850, 3; - traveling outfit of, 31-34; - leaves Quebec for Montreal on return trip, 95; - leaves Montreal for Boston, 99; - total expense of Canada excursion, 100, 101; - walk from Concord to Wachusett and back, 133-152; - observation of a red squirrel, 190, 191; - experience with government squash-seed, 203. - - "Thou dusky spirit of the wood," verse, 113. - - Three Rivers (Que.), 21, 93. - - Three-o'clock courage, 208, 209. - - To a Stray Fowl, verse, 411. - - To Aristoclides, Victor at the Nemean Games, translation, 384. - - To Asopichus, or Orchomenos, on his Victory in the Stadic Course, - translation, 378. - - To My Brother, verse, 403. - - To the Maiden in the East, verse, 400. - - To the Lyre, translation, 379. - - Toil, translation, 389. - - TRANSLATIONS, 337-392. - - Translations from Pindar, 375-392. - - Trappers, 115. - - Traverse, the, 92. - - Traveling outfit, the best, 31-34. - - Trees, Canadian, 48; - the suggestions of, 125; - the natural planting of, 186-202; - a town's need of, 272-278; - for seasons, 276. - - Tree-tops, things seen and found on, 245, 246. - - Troy (N. H.), 4. - - Turtle, the snapping, 124. - - - "Upon the lofty elm tree sprays," verse, 112. - - - Val Cartier (Que.), 89. - - Varennes, the church of, 97, 98. - - Veery, the, 112. - - Vegetation, the type of all growth, 128. - - Vergennes (Vt.), 7. - - Village, a continuous, 42, 43; - the, 213; - trees in a, 275-278. - - Virgil, reading, 138, 143, 144. - - - Wachusett, a view of, 138; - range, the, 139; - ascent of, 142; - birds or vegetation on summit of, 143; - night on, 145, 146; - an observatory, 147. - - Walls, Quebec and other, 74. - - WALK TO WACHUSETT, A, 133-152. - - Walkers, the order of, 206, 207. - - WALKING, 205-248. - - Walks, not on beaten paths, 213, 214; - the direction of, 216-219; - adventurous, 285; - by night, 326. - - Watatic, 137, 147. - - "We pronounce thee happy, Cicada," verse, 108. - - West, walking towards the, 217-220; - general tendency towards the, 219-224. - - Westmoreland, etymology of, 6. - - Whales in the St. Lawrence, 91. - - "Whate'er we leave to God, God does," verse, 396. - - "When life contracts into a vulgar span," verse, 404. - - "When the world grows old by the chimney-side," verse, 417. - - "When winter fringes every bough," verse, 176. - - "Where they once dug for money," verse, 214. - - Whitney, Peter, quoted, 312. - - "Who equaleth the coward's haste," verse, 417. - - "Whoa," the crying of, to mankind, 235. - - WILD APPLES, 290-322. - - Wildness, the necessity of, 224-236; - in literature, 230-233; - in domestic animals, 234-236. - - Willow, golden, leaves, 266. - - Winter Scene, A, verse, 410. - - WINTER WALK, A, 163-183. - - Winter, warmth in, 167, 168; - the woods in, 168, 169; - nature a _hortus siccus_ in, 179; - as represented in the almanac, 182; - ignored in Hebrew revelation, 183; - evening, 183. - - "With frontier strength ye stand your ground," verse, 133. - - "Within the circuit of this plodding life," verse, 103. - - Wolfe and Montcalm, monument to, 73. - - Wolfe's Cove, 22. - - Women, Canadian, 34. - - Woodbine, 3, 4, 276. - - Woodchopper, winter to be represented as a, 182. - - Woodman, hut and work of a, 172, 173. - - Woods in winter, the, 168, 169. - - Wordsworth, reading, 143, 144. - - - YANKEE IN CANADA, A, 1-101. - - "Yorrick," the, 112, note. - - - - - The Riverside Press - H. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - - - - -Title: Excursions and Poems - The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, Volume V (of 20) - - -Author: Henry David Thoreau - - - -Release Date: April 16, 2013 [eBook #42553] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EXCURSIONS AND POEMS*** - - -E-text prepared by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made -available by Internet Archive (http://archive.org) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 42553-h.htm or 42553-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/42553/42553-h/42553-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/42553/42553-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - http://archive.org/details/writingsofhenryd05thorrich - - -Transcriber's note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - - - - -The Writings of Henry David Thoreau - -In Twenty Volumes - -VOLUME V - -Manuscript Edition -Limited to Six Hundred Copies -Number ---- - - - - [Illustration: _Apple Blossoms (page 294)_] - - [Illustration: _Wild Apple Tree_] - - - -The Writings of Henry David Thoreau - -EXCURSIONS AND POEMS - - - - - - - -Boston and New York -Houghton Mifflin and Company -MDCCCCVI - -Copyright 1865 and 1866 by Ticknor and Fields -Copyright 1893 and 1906 by Houghton, Mifflin & Co. - -All rights reserved - - - - -CONTENTS - - - INTRODUCTORY NOTE xi - - - EXCURSIONS - - A YANKEE IN CANADA - - I. CONCORD TO MONTREAL 3 - - II. QUEBEC AND MONTMORENCI 20 - - III. ST. ANNE 40 - - IV. THE WALLS OF QUEBEC 69 - - V. THE SCENERY OF QUEBEC; AND THE - RIVER ST. LAWRENCE 85 - - NATURAL HISTORY OF MASSACHUSETTS 103 - - A WALK TO WACHUSETT 133 - - THE LANDLORD 153 - - A WINTER WALK 163 - - THE SUCCESSION OF FOREST TREES 184 - - WALKING 205 - - AUTUMNAL TINTS 249 - - WILD APPLES 290 - - NIGHT AND MOONLIGHT 323 - - - TRANSLATIONS - - THE PROMETHEUS BOUND OF AESCHYLUS 337 - - TRANSLATIONS FROM PINDAR 375 - - - POEMS - - NATURE 395 - - INSPIRATION 396 - - THE AURORA OF GUIDO 399 - - TO THE MAIDEN IN THE EAST 400 - - TO MY BROTHER 403 - - GREECE 404 - - THE FUNERAL BELL 405 - - THE MOON 406 - - THE FALL OF THE LEAF 407 - - THE THAW 409 - - A WINTER SCENE 410 - - TO A STRAY FOWL 411 - - POVERTY 412 - - PILGRIMS 413 - - THE DEPARTURE 414 - - INDEPENDENCE 415 - - DING DONG 417 - - OMNIPRESENCE 417 - - INSPIRATION (QUATRAIN) 418 - - MISSION 418 - - DELAY 418 - - PRAYER 418 - - - A LIST OF THE POEMS AND BITS OF VERSE - SCATTERED AMONG THOREAU'S PROSE - WRITINGS EXCLUSIVE OF THE JOURNAL 420 - - INDEX 423 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - - APPLE BLOSSOMS, _Carbon photograph (page 294)_ _Frontispiece_ - - WILD APPLE TREE, _Colored plate_ - - MONTREAL FROM MOUNT ROYAL 98 - - MOUNT WACHUSETT FROM THE WAYLAND HILLS 134 - - THE OLD MARLBOROUGH ROAD 214 - - FALLEN LEAVES 270 - - WILD APPLE TREE 300 - - - - -INTRODUCTORY NOTE - - -The "Excursions" of the present volume follow the arrangement of the -volume bearing that title in the Riverside Edition, which differed -somewhat as to contents from the "Excursions" collected by Thoreau's -sister after his death, and published in 1863 by Messrs. Ticknor & -Fields. The Biographical Sketch by Emerson which prefaced the latter -appears in the first volume of the present edition. - -"A Yankee in Canada," which here, as in the Riverside Edition, is made -the first of the series of Excursions, was formerly published in a -volume with "Anti-Slavery and Reform Papers." Thoreau made this -excursion to Canada with his friend Ellery Channing, and sent his -narrative to Mr. Greeley, who wrote him regarding it, March 18, 1852: -"I shall get you some money for the articles you sent me, though not -immediately. As to your long account of a Canadian tour, I don't know. -It looks unmanageable. Can't you cut it into three or four, and omit -all that relates to time? The cities are described to death, but I -know you are at home with Nature, and that _she_ rarely and slowly -changes. Break this up, if you can, and I will try to have it -swallowed and digested." Thoreau appears to have taken Greeley's -advice, and the narrative was divided into chapters. But after it had -been begun in _Putnam's_ in January, 1853, where it was entitled -"Excursion to Canada," the author and the editor, who appears from -the following letter to have been Mr. G. W. Curtis, disagreed -regarding the expediency of including certain passages, and Thoreau -withdrew all after the third chapter. The letter is as follows:-- - - NEW YORK, January 2, 1853. - - FRIEND THOREAU.... I am sorry you and C. cannot agree so as to - have your whole MS. printed. It will be worth nothing - elsewhere after having partly appeared in _Putnam's_. I think - it is a mistake to conceal the authorship of the several - articles, making them all (so to speak) _editorial_; but _if_ - that is done, don't you see that the elimination of very - flagrant heresies (like your defiant Pantheism) becomes a - necessity? If you had withdrawn your MS. on account of the - abominable misprints in the first number, your ground would - have been far more tenable. However, do what you will. Yours, - - HORACE GREELEY. - -"Natural History of Massachusetts" was contributed to _The Dial_, -July, 1842, nominally as a review of some recent State reports. "A -Walk to Wachusett" was printed in _The Boston Miscellany_, 1843. Mr. -Sanborn, in his volume on Thoreau, prints a very interesting letter -written by Margaret Fuller in 1841, in criticism of the verses which -stand near the beginning of the paper, offered at that time for -publication in _The Dial_. "The Landlord" was printed in _The -Democratic Review_ for October, 1843. "A Winter Walk" appeared in _The -Dial_ in the same month and year. Emerson in a letter to Thoreau, -September 8, 1843, says: "I mean to send the 'Winter's Walk' to the -printer to-morrow for _The Dial_. I had some hesitation about it, -notwithstanding its faithful observation and its fine sketches of the -pickerel-fisher and of the woodchopper, on account of _mannerism_, an -old charge of mine,--as if, by attention, one could get the trick of -the rhetoric; for example, to call a cold place sultry, a solitude -public, a wilderness _domestic_ (a favorite word), and in the woods to -insult over cities, armies, etc. By pretty free omissions, however, I -have removed my principal objections." The address "The Succession of -Forest Trees" was printed first in _The New York Tribune_, October 6, -1860, and was perhaps the latest of his writings which Thoreau saw in -print. - -After his death the interest which had already been growing was -quickened by the successive publication in _The Atlantic Monthly_ of -"Autumnal Tints" and "Wild Apples" in October and November, 1862, and -"Night and Moonlight" November, 1863. The last named appeared just -before the publication of the volume "Excursions," which collected the -several papers. - -"May Days" and "Days and Nights in Concord," which were printed in the -Riverside Edition, are now omitted as consisting merely of extracts -from Thoreau's Journal and therefore superseded by the publication of -the latter in its complete form. - - * * * * * - -A few of Thoreau's poems, taken from the "Week" and elsewhere, were -added by Mr. Emerson to the volume entitled "Letters to Various -Persons" which he brought out in 1865, but it was not till the volume -of "Miscellanies" was issued in the Riverside Edition that the -otherwise unpublished verse of his that had appeared in _The Dial_ was -gathered into a single volume. Besides the _Dial_ contributions, the -Riverside "Miscellanies" contained a few poems that first found -publication in Mr. Sanborn's Life of Thoreau. But the collection was -not intended to be complete. - -Many of Thoreau's poems, including his translations from the -Anacreontics, are imbedded in the "Week," "Walden," and "Excursions," -and it seemed best not to reproduce them in another volume. In 1895, -shortly after the publication of the Riverside Thoreau, Mr. Henry S. -Salt and Mr. Frank B. Sanborn brought out a book entitled "Poems of -Nature by Henry David Thoreau," in which were collected "perhaps two -thirds of [the poems] which Thoreau preserved." "Many of them," says -the Introduction to that volume, "were printed by him, in whole or in -part, among his early contributions to Emerson's _Dial_, or in his own -two volumes, the _Week_ and _Walden_.... Others were given to Mr. -Sanborn for publication, by Sophia Thoreau, the year after her -brother's death (several appeared in the _Boston Commonwealth_ in -1863); or have been furnished from time to time by Mr. Blake, his -literary executor." This volume contained a number of poems which had -not before appeared in any of Thoreau's published books. Such poems -are now added to those of the Riverside Edition. The present -collection, however, no more than its predecessors pretends to -completeness. It includes only those of Thoreau's poems which have -been previously published and which are not contained in other volumes -of this series. A list of the poems and scattered bits of verse -printed in the other volumes will be found in an Appendix. The Journal -also contains, especially in the early part, a number of heretofore -unpublished poems which it seems best to retain in their original -setting. - - - - -EXCURSIONS - - - - -A YANKEE IN CANADA - - -New England is by some affirmed to be an island, bounded on the north -with the River Canada (so called from Monsieur Cane).--JOSSELYN'S -RARITIES. - -And still older, in Thomas Morton's "New English Canaan," published in -1632, it is said, on page 97, "From this Lake [Erocoise] Northwards is -derived the famous River of Canada, so named, of Monsier de Cane, a -French Lord, who first planted a colony of French in America." - - - - -A YANKEE IN CANADA - - - - -CHAPTER I - -CONCORD TO MONTREAL - - -I fear that I have not got much to say about Canada, not having seen -much; what I got by going to Canada was a cold. I left Concord, -Massachusetts, Wednesday morning, September 25th, 1850, for Quebec. -Fare, seven dollars there and back; distance from Boston, five hundred -and ten miles; being obliged to leave Montreal on the return as soon -as Friday, October 4th, or within ten days. I will not stop to tell -the reader the names of my fellow-travelers; there were said to be -fifteen hundred of them. I wished only to be set down in Canada, and -take one honest walk there as I might in Concord woods of an -afternoon. - -The country was new to me beyond Fitchburg. In Ashburnham and -afterward, as we were whirled rapidly along, I noticed the woodbine -(_Ampelopsis quinquefolia_), its leaves now changed, for the most part -on dead trees, draping them like a red scarf. It was a little -exciting, suggesting bloodshed, or at least a military life, like an -epaulet or sash, as if it were dyed with the blood of the trees whose -wounds it was inadequate to stanch. For now the bloody autumn was -come, and an Indian warfare was waged through the forest. These -military trees appeared very numerous, for our rapid progress -connected those that were even some miles apart. Does the woodbine -prefer the elm? The first view of Monadnock was obtained five or six -miles this side of Fitzwilliam, but nearest and best at Troy and -beyond. Then there were the Troy cuts and embankments. Keene Street -strikes the traveler favorably, it is so wide, level, straight, and -long. I have heard one of my relatives, who was born and bred there, -say that you could see a chicken run across it a mile off. I have also -been told that when this town was settled they laid out a street four -rods wide, but at a subsequent meeting of the proprietors one rose and -remarked, "We have plenty of land, why not make the street eight rods -wide?" and so they voted that it should be eight rods wide, and the -town is known far and near for its handsome street. It was a cheap way -of securing comfort, as well as fame, and I wish that all new towns -would take pattern from this. It is best to lay our plans widely in -youth, for then land is cheap, and it is but too easy to contract our -views afterward. Youths so laid out, with broad avenues and parks, -that they may make handsome and liberal old men! Show me a youth whose -mind is like some Washington city of magnificent distances, prepared -for the most remotely successful and glorious life after all, when -those spaces shall be built over and the idea of the founder be -realized. I trust that every New England boy will begin by laying out -a Keene Street through his head, eight rods wide. I know one such -Washington city of a man, whose lots as yet are only surveyed and -staked out, and, except a cluster of shanties here and there, only the -Capitol stands there for all structures, and any day you may see from -afar his princely idea borne coachwise along the spacious but yet -empty avenues. Keene is built on a remarkably large and level -interval, like the bed of a lake, and the surrounding hills, which are -remote from its street, must afford some good walks. The scenery of -mountain towns is commonly too much crowded. A town which is built on -a plain of some extent, with an open horizon, and surrounded by hills -at a distance, affords the best walks and views. - -As we travel northwest up the country, sugar maples, beeches, birches, -hemlocks, spruce, butternuts, and ash trees prevail more and more. To -the rapid traveler the number of elms in a town is the measure of its -civility. One man in the cars has a bottle full of some liquor. The -whole company smile whenever it is exhibited. I find no difficulty in -containing myself. The Westmoreland country looked attractive. I heard -a passenger giving the very obvious derivation of this name, -Westmore-land, as if it were purely American, and he had made a -discovery; but I thought of "my cousin Westmoreland" in England. Every -one will remember the approach to Bellows Falls, under a high cliff -which rises from the Connecticut. I was disappointed in the size of -the river here; it appeared shrunk to a mere mountain-stream. The -water was evidently very low. The rivers which we had crossed this -forenoon possessed more of the character of mountain-streams than -those in the vicinity of Concord, and I was surprised to see -everywhere traces of recent freshets, which had carried away bridges -and injured the railroad, though I had heard nothing of it. In -Ludlow, Mount Holly, and beyond, there is interesting mountain -scenery, not rugged and stupendous, but such as you could easily -ramble over,--long, narrow, mountain vales through which to see the -horizon. You are in the midst of the Green Mountains. A few more -elevated blue peaks are seen from the neighborhood of Mount Holly; -perhaps Killington Peak is one. Sometimes, as on the Western Railroad, -you are whirled over mountainous embankments, from which the scared -horses in the valleys appear diminished to hounds. All the hills -blush; I think that autumn must be the best season to journey over -even the _Green_ Mountains. You frequently exclaim to yourself, What -_red_ maples! The sugar maple is not so red. You see some of the -latter with rosy spots or cheeks only, blushing on one side like -fruit, while all the rest of the tree is green, proving either some -partiality in the light or frosts or some prematurity in particular -branches. Tall and slender ash trees, whose foliage is turned to a -dark mulberry color, are frequent. The butternut, which is a -remarkably spreading tree, is turned completely yellow, thus proving -its relation to the hickories. I was also struck by the bright yellow -tints of the yellow birch. The sugar maple is remarkable for its clean -ankle. The groves of these trees looked like vast forest sheds, their -branches stopping short at a uniform height, four or five feet from -the ground, like eaves, as if they had been trimmed by art, so that -you could look under and through the whole grove with its leafy -canopy, as under a tent whose curtain is raised. - -As you approach Lake Champlain you begin to see the New York -mountains. The first view of the lake at Vergennes is impressive, but -rather from association than from any peculiarity in the scenery. It -lies there so small (not appearing in that proportion to the width of -the State that it does on the map), but beautifully quiet, like a -picture of the Lake of Lucerne on a music-box, where you trace the -name of Lucerne among the foliage; far more ideal than ever it looked -on the map. It does not say, "Here I am, Lake Champlain," as the -conductor might for it, but having studied the geography thirty years, -you crossed over a hill one afternoon and beheld it. But it is only a -glimpse that you get here. At Burlington you rush to a wharf and go on -board a steamboat, two hundred and thirty-two miles from Boston. We -left Concord at twenty minutes before eight in the morning, and were -in Burlington about six at night, but too late to see the lake. We got -our first fair view of the lake at dawn, just before reaching -Plattsburg, and saw blue ranges of mountains on either hand, in New -York and in Vermont, the former especially grand. A few white -schooners, like gulls, were seen in the distance, for it is not waste -and solitary like a lake in Tartary; but it was such a view as leaves -not much to be said; indeed, I have postponed Lake Champlain to -another day. - -The oldest reference to these waters that I have yet seen is in the -account of Cartier's discovery and exploration of the St. Lawrence in -1535. Samuel Champlain actually discovered and paddled up the lake in -July, 1609, eleven years before the settlement of Plymouth, -accompanying a war-party of the Canadian Indians against the -Iroquois. He describes the islands in it as not inhabited, although -they are pleasant,--on account of the continual wars of the Indians, -in consequence of which they withdraw from the rivers and lakes into -the depths of the land, that they may not be surprised. "Continuing -our course," says he, "in this lake, on the western side, viewing the -country, I saw on the eastern side very high mountains, where there -was snow on the summit. I inquired of the savages if those places were -inhabited. They replied that they were, and that they were Iroquois, -and that in those places there were beautiful valleys and plains -fertile in corn, such as I have eaten in this country, with an -infinity of other fruits." This is the earliest account of what is now -Vermont. - -The number of French-Canadian gentlemen and ladies among the -passengers, and the sound of the French language, advertised us by -this time that we were being whirled towards some foreign vortex. And -now we have left Rouse's Point, and entered the Sorel River, and -passed the invisible barrier between the States and Canada. The shores -of the Sorel, Richelieu, or St. John's River are flat and reedy, where -I had expected something more rough and mountainous for a natural -boundary between two nations. Yet I saw a difference at once, in the -few huts, in the pirogues on the shore, and as it were, in the shore -itself. This was an interesting scenery to me, and the very reeds or -rushes in the shallow water and the tree-tops in the swamps have left -a pleasing impression. We had still a distant view behind us of two or -three blue mountains in Vermont and New York. About nine o'clock in -the forenoon we reached St. John's, an old frontier post three hundred -and six miles from Boston, and twenty-four from Montreal. We now -discovered that we were in a foreign country, in a station-house of -another nation. This building was a barn-like structure, looking as if -it were the work of the villagers combined, like a log house in a new -settlement. My attention was caught by the double advertisements in -French and English fastened to its posts, by the formality of the -English, and the covert or open reference to their queen and the -British lion. No gentlemanly conductor appeared, none whom you would -know to be the conductor by his dress and demeanor; but ere long we -began to see here and there a solid, red-faced, burly-looking -Englishman, a little pursy perhaps, who made us ashamed of ourselves -and our thin and nervous countrymen,--a grandfatherly personage, at -home in his greatcoat, who looked as if he might be a stage -proprietor, certainly a railroad director, and knew, or had a right to -know, when the cars did start. Then there were two or three -pale-faced, black-eyed, loquacious Canadian-French gentlemen there, -shrugging their shoulders; pitted as if they had all had the -small-pox. In the meanwhile some soldiers, redcoats, belonging to the -barracks near by, were turned out to be drilled. At every important -point in our route the soldiers showed themselves ready for us; though -they were evidently rather raw recruits here, they manoeuvred far -better than our soldiers; yet, as usual, I heard some Yankees talk as -if they were no great shakes, and they had seen the Acton Blues -manoeuvre as well. The officers spoke sharply to them, and appeared -to be doing their part thoroughly. I heard one suddenly coming to the -rear, exclaim, "Michael Donouy, take his name!" though I could not see -what the latter did or omitted to do. It was whispered that Michael -Donouy would have to suffer for that. I heard some of our party -discussing the possibility of their driving these troops off the field -with their umbrellas. I thought that the Yankee, though undisciplined, -had this advantage at least, that he especially is a man who, -everywhere and under all circumstances, is fully resolved to better -his condition essentially, and therefore he could afford to be beaten -at first; while the virtue of the Irishman, and to a great extent the -Englishman, consists in merely maintaining his ground or condition. -The Canadians here, a rather poor-looking race, clad in gray homespun, -which gave them the appearance of being covered with dust, were riding -about in caleches and small one-horse carts called charettes. The -Yankees assumed that all the riders were racing, or at least -exhibiting the paces of their horses, and saluted them accordingly. We -saw but little of the village here, for nobody could tell us when the -cars would start; that was kept a profound secret, perhaps for -political reasons; and therefore we were tied to our seats. The -inhabitants of St. John's and vicinity are described by an English -traveler as "singularly unprepossessing," and before completing his -period he adds, "besides, they are generally very much disaffected to -the British crown." I suspect that that "besides" should have been a -because. - -At length, about noon, the cars began to roll towards La Prairie. The -whole distance of fifteen miles was over a remarkably level country, -resembling a Western prairie, with the mountains about Chambly visible -in the northeast. This novel but monotonous scenery was exciting. At -La Prairie we first took notice of the tinned roofs, but above all of -the St. Lawrence, which looked like a lake; in fact it is considerably -expanded here; it was nine miles across diagonally to Montreal. Mount -Royal in the rear of the city, and the island of St. Helen's opposite -to it, were now conspicuous. We could also see the Sault St. Louis -about five miles up the river, and the Sault Norman still farther -eastward. The former are described as the most considerable rapids in -the St. Lawrence; but we could see merely a gleam of light there as -from a cobweb in the sun. Soon the city of Montreal was discovered -with its tin roofs shining afar. Their reflections fell on the eye -like a clash of cymbals on the ear. Above all the church of Notre Dame -was conspicuous, and anon the Bonsecours market-house, occupying a -commanding position on the quay, in the rear of the shipping. This -city makes the more favorable impression from being approached by -water, and also being built of stone, a gray limestone found on the -island. Here, after traveling directly inland the whole breadth of New -England, we had struck upon a city's harbor,--it made on me the -impression of a seaport,--to which ships of six hundred tons can -ascend, and where vessels drawing fifteen feet lie close to the wharf, -five hundred and forty miles from the Gulf, the St. Lawrence being -here two miles wide. There was a great crowd assembled on the -ferry-boat wharf and on the quay to receive the Yankees, and flags of -all colors were streaming from the vessels to celebrate their arrival. -When the gun was fired, the gentry hurrahed again and again, and then -the Canadian caleche-drivers, who were most interested in the matter, -and who, I perceived, were separated from the former by a fence, -hurrahed their welcome; first the broadcloth, then the homespun. - -It was early in the afternoon when we stepped ashore. With a single -companion, I soon found my way to the church of Notre Dame. I saw that -it was of great size and signified something. It is said to be the -largest ecclesiastical structure in North America, and can seat ten -thousand. It is two hundred and fifty-five and a half feet long, and -the groined ceiling is eighty feet above your head. The Catholic are -the only churches which I have seen worth remembering, which are not -almost wholly profane. I do not speak only of the rich and splendid -like this, but of the humblest of them as well. Coming from the -hurrahing mob and the rattling carriages, we pushed aside the listed -door of this church, and found ourselves instantly in an atmosphere -which might be sacred to thought and religion, if one had any. There -sat one or two women who had stolen a moment from the concerns of the -day, as they were passing; but, if there had been fifty people there, -it would still have been the most solitary place imaginable. They did -not look up at us, nor did one regard another. We walked softly down -the broad aisle with our hats in our hands. Presently came in a troop -of Canadians, in their homespun, who had come to the city in the boat -with us, and one and all kneeled down in the aisle before the high -altar to their devotions, somewhat awkwardly, as cattle prepare to lie -down, and there we left them. As if you were to catch some farmer's -sons from Marlborough, come to cattle-show, silently kneeling in -Concord meeting-house some Wednesday! Would there not soon be a mob -peeping in at the windows? It is true, these Roman Catholics, priests -and all, impress me as a people who have fallen far behind the -significance of their symbols. It is as if an ox had strayed into a -church and were trying to bethink himself. Nevertheless, they are -capable of reverence; but we Yankees are a people in whom this -sentiment has nearly died out, and in this respect we cannot bethink -ourselves even as oxen. I did not mind the pictures nor the candles, -whether tallow or tin. Those of the former which I looked at appeared -tawdry. It matters little to me whether the pictures are by a neophyte -of the Algonquin or the Italian tribe. But I was impressed by the -quiet, religious atmosphere of the place. It was a great cave in the -midst of a city; and what were the altars and the tinsel but the -sparkling stalactites, into which you entered in a moment, and where -the still atmosphere and the sombre light disposed to serious and -profitable thought? Such a cave at hand, which you can enter any day, -is worth a thousand of our churches which are open only Sundays, -hardly long enough for an airing, and then filled with a bustling -congregation,--a church where the priest is the least part, where you -do your own preaching, where the universe preaches to you and can be -heard. I am not sure but this Catholic religion would be an admirable -one if the priest were quite omitted. I think that I might go to -church myself some Monday, if I lived in a city where there was such a -one to go to. In Concord, to be sure, we do not need such. Our forests -are such a church, far grander and more sacred. We dare not leave -_our_ meeting-houses open for fear they would be profaned. Such a -cave, such a shrine, in one of our groves, for instance, how long -would it be respected? for what purposes would it be entered, by such -baboons as we are? I think of its value not only to religion, but to -philosophy and to poetry; besides a reading-room, to have a -thinking-room in every city! Perchance the time will come when every -house even will have not only its sleeping-rooms, and dining-room, and -talking-room or parlor, but its thinking-room also, and the architects -will put it into their plans. Let it be furnished and ornamented with -whatever conduces to serious and creative thought. I should not object -to the holy water, or any other simple symbol, if it were consecrated -by the imagination of the worshipers. - -I heard that some Yankees bet that the candles were not wax, but tin. -A European assured them that they were wax; but, inquiring of the -sexton, he was surprised to learn that they were tin filled with oil. -The church was too poor to afford wax. As for the Protestant churches, -here or elsewhere, they did not interest me, for it is only as caves -that churches interest me at all, and in that respect they were -inferior. - -Montreal makes the impression of a larger city than you had expected -to find, though you may have heard that it contains nearly sixty -thousand inhabitants. In the newer parts, it appeared to be growing -fast like a small New York, and to be considerably Americanized. The -names of the squares reminded you of Paris,--the Champ de Mars, the -Place d'Armes, and others,--and you felt as if a French revolution -might break out any moment. Glimpses of Mount Royal rising behind the -town, and the names of some streets in that direction, make one think -of Edinburgh. That hill sets off this city wonderfully. I inquired at -a principal bookstore for books published in Montreal. They said that -there were none but school-books and the like; they got their books -from the States. From time to time we met a priest in the streets, for -they are distinguished by their dress, like the _civil_ police. Like -clergymen generally, with or without the gown, they made on us the -impression of effeminacy. We also met some Sisters of Charity, dressed -in black, with Shaker-shaped black bonnets and crosses, and cadaverous -faces, who looked as if they had almost cried their eyes out, their -complexions parboiled with scalding tears; insulting the daylight by -their presence, having taken an oath not to smile. By cadaverous I -mean that their faces were like the faces of those who have been dead -and buried for a year, and then untombed, with the life's grief upon -them, and yet, for some unaccountable reason, the process of decay -arrested. - - "Truth never fails her servant, sir, nor leaves him - With the day's shame upon him." - -They waited demurely on the sidewalk while a truck laden with raisins -was driven in at the seminary of St. Sulpice, never once lifting their -eyes from the ground. - -The soldier here, as everywhere in Canada, appeared to be put forward, -and by his best foot. They were in the proportion of the soldiers to -the laborers in an African ant-hill. The inhabitants evidently rely on -them in a great measure for music and entertainment. You would meet -with them pacing back and forth before some guard-house or -passage-way, guarding, regarding, and disregarding all kinds of law by -turns, apparently for the sake of the discipline to themselves, and -not because it was important to exclude anybody from entering that -way. They reminded me of the men who are paid for piling up bricks and -then throwing them down again. On every prominent ledge you could see -England's hands holding the Canadas, and I judged by the redness of -her knuckles that she would soon have to let go. In the rear of such a -guard-house, in a large graveled square or parade ground, called the -Champ de Mars, we saw a large body of soldiers being drilled, we being -as yet the only spectators. But they did not appear to notice us any -more than the devotees in the church, but were seemingly as -indifferent to fewness of spectators as the phenomena of nature are, -whatever they might have been thinking under their helmets of the -Yankees that were to come. Each man wore white kid gloves. It was one -of the most interesting sights which I saw in Canada. The problem -appeared to be how to smooth down all individual protuberances or -idiosyncrasies, and make a thousand men move as one man, animated by -one central will; and there was some approach to success. They obeyed -the signals of a commander who stood at a great distance, wand in -hand; and the precision, and promptness, and harmony of their -movements could not easily have been matched. The harmony was far more -remarkable than that of any choir or band, and obtained, no doubt, at -a greater cost. They made on me the impression, not of many -individuals, but of one vast centipede of a man, good for all sorts of -pulling down; and why not then for some kinds of building up? If men -could combine thus earnestly, and patiently, and harmoniously to some -really worthy end, what might they not accomplish? They now put their -hands, and partially perchance their heads together, and the result is -that they are the imperfect tools of an imperfect and tyrannical -government. But if they could put their hands and heads and hearts and -all together, such a cooperation and harmony would be the very end and -success for which government now exists in vain,--a government, as it -were, not only with tools, but stock to trade with. - -I was obliged to frame some sentences that sounded like French in -order to deal with the market-women, who, for the most part, cannot -speak English. According to the guidebook the relative population of -this city stands nearly thus: two fifths are French-Canadian; nearly -one fifth British-Canadian; one and a half fifths English, Irish, and -Scotch; somewhat less than one half fifth Germans, United States -people, and others. I saw nothing like pie for sale, and no good cake -to put in my bundle, such as you can easily find in our towns, but -plenty of fair-looking apples, for which Montreal Island is -celebrated, and also pears cheaper and I thought better than ours, and -peaches, which, though they were probably brought from the South, were -as cheap as they commonly are with us. So imperative is the law of -demand and supply that, as I have been told, the market of Montreal is -sometimes supplied with green apples from the State of New York some -weeks even before they are ripe in the latter place. I saw here the -spruce wax which the Canadians chew, done up in little silvered -papers, a penny a roll; also a small and shriveled fruit which they -called _cerises_, mixed with many little stems, somewhat like raisins, -but I soon returned what I had bought, finding them rather insipid, -only putting a sample in my pocket. Since my return, I find on -comparison that it is the fruit of the sweet viburnum (_Viburnum -Lentago_), which with us rarely holds on till it is ripe. - -I stood on the deck of the steamer John Munn, late in the afternoon, -when the second and third ferry-boats arrived from La Prairie, -bringing the remainder of the Yankees. I never saw so many caleches, -cabs, charettes, and similar vehicles collected before, and doubt if -New York could easily furnish more. The handsome and substantial stone -quay which stretches a mile along the riverside and protects the -street from the ice was thronged with the citizens who had turned out -on foot and in carriages to welcome or to behold the Yankees. It was -interesting to see the caleche-drivers dash up and down the slope of -the quay with their active little horses. They drive much faster than -in our cities. I have been told that some of them come nine miles into -the city every morning and return every night, without changing their -horses during the day. In the midst of the crowd of carts, I observed -one deep one loaded with sheep with their legs tied together, and -their bodies piled one upon another, as if the driver had forgotten -that they were sheep and not yet mutton,--a sight, I trust, peculiar -to Canada, though I fear that it is not. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -QUEBEC AND MONTMORENCI - - -About six o'clock we started for Quebec, one hundred and eighty miles -distant by the river; gliding past Longueuil and Boucherville on the -right, and Pointe aux Trembles, "so called from having been originally -covered with aspens," and Bout de l'Isle, or the end of the island, on -the left. I repeat these names not merely for want of more substantial -facts to record, but because they sounded singularly poetic to my -ears. There certainly was no lie in them. They suggested that some -simple, and, perchance, heroic human life might have transpired there. -There is all the poetry in the world in a name. It is a poem which the -mass of men hear and read. What is poetry in the common sense, but a -string of such jingling names? I want nothing better than a good word. -The name of a thing may easily be more than the thing itself to me. -Inexpressibly beautiful appears the recognition by man of the least -natural fact, and the allying his life to it. All the world -reiterating this slender truth, that aspens once grew there; and the -swift inference is that men were there to see them. And so it would be -with the names of our native and neighboring villages, if we had not -profaned them. - -The daylight now failed us, and we went below; but I endeavored to -console myself for being obliged to make this voyage by night, by -thinking that I did not lose a great deal, the shores being low and -rather unattractive, and that the river itself was much the more -interesting object. I heard something in the night about the boat -being at William Henry, Three Rivers, and in the Richelieu Rapids, but -I was still where I had been when I lost sight of Pointe aux Trembles. -To hear a man who has been waked up at midnight in the cabin of a -steamboat inquiring, "Waiter, where are we now?" is as if, at any -moment of the earth's revolution round the sun, or of the system round -its centre, one were to raise himself up and inquire of one of the -deck hands, "Where are we now?" - -I went on deck at daybreak, when we were thirty or forty miles above -Quebec. The banks were now higher and more interesting. There was an -"uninterrupted succession of whitewashed cottages," on each side of -the river. This is what every traveler tells. But it is not to be -taken as an evidence of the populousness of the country in general, -hardly even of the river-banks. They have presented a similar -appearance for a hundred years. The Swedish traveler and naturalist -Kalm, who descended the river in 1749, says, "It could really be -called a village, beginning at Montreal and ending at Quebec, which is -a distance of more than one hundred and eighty miles; for the -farmhouses are never above five arpents, and sometimes but three -asunder, a few places excepted." Even in 1684 Hontan said that the -houses were not more than a gunshot apart at most. Ere long we passed -Cape Rouge, eight miles above Quebec, the mouth of the Chaudiere on -the opposite or south side; New Liverpool Cove with its lumber-rafts -and some shipping; then Sillery and Wolfe's Cove and the Heights of -Abraham on the north, with now a view of Cape Diamond, and the citadel -in front. The approach to Quebec was very imposing. It was about six -o'clock in the morning when we arrived. There is but a single street -under the cliff on the south side of the cape, which was made by -blasting the rocks and filling up the river. Three-story houses did -not rise more than one fifth or one sixth the way up the nearly -perpendicular rock, whose summit is three hundred and forty-five feet -above the water. We saw, as we glided past, the sign on the side of -the precipice, part way up, pointing to the spot where Montgomery was -killed in 1775. Formerly it was the custom for those who went to -Quebec for the first time to be ducked, or else pay a fine. Not even -the Governor-General escaped. But we were too many to be ducked, even -if the custom had not been abolished.[1] - -Here we were, in the harbor of Quebec, still three hundred and sixty -miles from the mouth of the St. Lawrence, in a basin two miles across, -where the greatest depth is twenty-eight fathoms, and though the water -is fresh, the tide rises seventeen to twenty-four feet,--a harbor -"large and deep enough," says a British traveler, "to hold the English -navy." I may as well state that, in 1844, the county of Quebec -contained about forty-five thousand inhabitants (the city and suburbs -having about forty-three thousand),--about twenty-eight thousand being -Canadians of French origin; eight thousand British; over seven -thousand natives of Ireland; one thousand five hundred natives of -England; the rest Scotch and others. Thirty-six thousand belong to the -Church of Rome. - -Separating ourselves from the crowd, we walked up a narrow street, -thence ascended by some wooden steps, called the Break-neck Stairs, -into another steep, narrow, and zigzag street, blasted through the -rock, which last led through a low, massive stone portal, called -Prescott Gate, the principal thoroughfare into the Upper Town. This -passage was defended by cannon, with a guard-house over it, a sentinel -at his post, and other soldiers at hand ready to relieve him. I rubbed -my eyes to be sure that I was in the Nineteenth Century, and was not -entering one of those portals which sometimes adorn the frontispieces -of new editions of old black-letter volumes. I thought it would be a -good place to read Froissart's Chronicles. It was such a reminiscence -of the Middle Ages as Scott's novels. Men apparently dwelt there for -security! Peace be unto them! As if the inhabitants of New York were -to go over to Castle William to live! What a place it must be to bring -up children! Being safe through the gate, we naturally took the street -which was steepest, and after a few turns found ourselves on the -Durham Terrace, a wooden platform on the site of the old castle of St. -Louis, still one hundred and fifteen feet below the summit of the -citadel, overlooking the Lower Town, the wharf where we had landed, -the harbor, the Isle of Orleans, and the river and surrounding country -to a great distance. It was literally a _splendid_ view. We could see, -six or seven miles distant, in the northeast, an indentation in the -lofty shore of the northern channel, apparently on one side of the -harbor, which marked the mouth of the Montmorenci, whose celebrated -fall was only a few rods in the rear. - -At a shoe-shop, whither we were directed for this purpose, we got some -of our American money changed into English. I found that American hard -money would have answered as well, excepting cents, which fell very -fast before their pennies, it taking two of the former to make one of -the latter, and often the penny, which had cost us two cents, did us -the service of one cent only. Moreover, our robust cents were -compelled to meet on even terms a crew of vile half-penny tokens, and -Bungtown coppers, which had more brass in their composition, and so -perchance made their way in the world. Wishing to get into the -citadel, we were directed to the Jesuits' Barracks,--a good part of -the public buildings here are barracks,--to get a pass of the Town -Major. We did not heed the sentries at the gate, nor did they us, and -what under the sun they were placed there for, unless to hinder a free -circulation of the air, was not apparent. There we saw soldiers eating -their breakfasts in their mess-room, from bare wooden tables in camp -fashion. We were continually meeting with soldiers in the streets, -carrying funny little tin pails of all shapes, even semicircular, as -if made to pack conveniently. I supposed that they contained their -dinners,--so many slices of bread and butter to each, perchance. -Sometimes they were carrying some kind of military chest on a sort of -bier or hand-barrow, with a springy, undulating, military step, all -passengers giving way to them, even the charette-drivers stopping for -them to pass,--as if the battle were being lost from an inadequate -supply of powder. There was a regiment of Highlanders, and, as I -understood, of Royal Irish, in the city; and by this time there was a -regiment of Yankees also. I had already observed, looking up even from -the water, the head and shoulders of some General Poniatowsky, with an -enormous cocked hat and gun, peering over the roof of a house, away up -where the chimney caps commonly are with us, as it were a caricature -of war and military awfulness; but I had not gone far up St. Louis -Street before my riddle was solved, by the apparition of a real live -Highlander under a cocked hat, and with his knees out, standing and -marching sentinel on the ramparts, between St. Louis and St. John's -Gate. (It must be a holy war that is waged there.) We stood close by -without fear and looked at him. His legs were somewhat tanned, and the -hair had begun to grow on them, as some of our wise men predict that -it will in such cases, but I did not think they were remarkable in any -respect. Notwithstanding all his warlike gear, when I inquired of him -the way to the Plains of Abraham, he could not answer me without -betraying some bashfulness through his broad Scotch. Soon after, we -passed another of these creatures standing sentry at the St. Louis -Gate, who let us go by without shooting us, or even demanding the -countersign. We then began to go through the gate, which was so thick -and tunnel-like as to remind me of those lines in Claudian's "Old Man -of Verona," about the getting out of the gate being the greater part -of a journey;--as you might imagine yourself crawling through an -architectural vignette _at the end_ of a black-letter volume. We were -then reminded that we had been in a fortress, from which we emerged by -numerous zigzags in a ditch-like road, going a considerable distance -to advance a few rods, where they could have shot us two or three -times over, if their minds had been disposed as their guns were. The -greatest, or rather the most prominent, part of this city was -constructed with the design to offer the deadest resistance to leaden -and iron missiles that might be cast against it. But it is a -remarkable meteorological and psychological fact, that it is rarely -known to rain lead with much violence, except on places so -constructed. Keeping on about a mile we came to the Plains of -Abraham,--for having got through with the Saints, we came next to the -Patriarchs. Here the Highland regiment was being reviewed, while the -band stood on one side and played--methinks it was _La Claire -Fontaine_, the national air of the Canadian French. This is the site -where a real battle once took place, to commemorate which they have -had a sham fight here almost every day since. The Highlanders -manoeuvred very well, and if the precision of their movements was -less remarkable, they did not appear so stiffly erect as the English -or Royal Irish, but had a more elastic and graceful gait, like a herd -of their own red deer, or as if accustomed to stepping down the sides -of mountains. But they made a sad impression on the whole, for it was -obvious that all true manhood was in the process of being drilled out -of them. I have no doubt that soldiers well drilled are, as a class, -peculiarly destitute of originality and independence. The officers -appeared like men dressed above their condition. It is impossible to -give the soldier a good education without making him a deserter. His -natural foe is the government that drills him. What would any -philanthropist who felt an interest in these men's welfare naturally -do, but first of all teach them so to respect themselves that they -could not be hired for this work, whatever might be the consequences -to this government or that?--not drill a few, but educate all. I -observed one older man among them, gray as a wharf-rat, and supple as -the devil, marching lock-step with the rest, who would have to pay for -that elastic gait. - -We returned to the citadel along the heights, plucking such flowers as -grew there. There was an abundance of succory still in blossom, -broad-leaved goldenrod, buttercups, thorn bushes, Canada thistles, and -ivy, on the very summit of Cape Diamond. I also found the bladder -campion in the neighborhood. We there enjoyed an extensive view, which -I will describe in another place. Our pass, which stated that all the -rules were "to be strictly enforced," as if they were determined to -keep up the semblance of reality to the last gasp, opened to us the -Dalhousie Gate, and we were conducted over the citadel by a -bare-legged Highlander in cocked hat and full regimentals. He told us -that he had been here about three years, and had formerly been -stationed at Gibraltar. As if his regiment, having perchance been -nestled amid the rocks of Edinburgh Castle, must flit from rock to -rock thenceforth over the earth's surface, like a bald eagle, or other -bird of prey, from eyrie to eyrie. As we were going out, we met the -Yankees coming in, in a body headed by a red-coated officer called the -commandant, and escorted by many citizens, both English and -French-Canadian. I therefore immediately fell into the procession, and -went round the citadel again with more intelligent guides, carrying, -as before, all my effects with me. Seeing that nobody walked with the -red-coated commandant, I attached myself to him, and though I was not -what is called well-dressed, he did not know whether to repel me or -not, for I talked like one who was not aware of any deficiency in that -respect. Probably there was not one among all the Yankees who went to -Canada this time, who was not more splendidly dressed than I was. It -would have been a poor story if I had not enjoyed some distinction. I -had on my "bad-weather clothes," like Olaf Trygvesson the Northman, -when he went to the Thing in England, where, by the way, he won his -bride. As we stood by the thirty-two-pounder on the summit of Cape -Diamond, which is fired three times a day, the commandant told me that -it would carry to the Isle of Orleans, four miles distant, and that no -hostile vessel could come round the island. I now saw the subterranean -or rather "casemated" barracks of the soldiers, which I had not -noticed before, though I might have walked over them. They had very -narrow windows, serving as loop-holes for musketry, and small iron -chimneys rising above the ground. There we saw the soldiers at home -and in an undress, splitting wood,--I looked to see whether with -swords or axes,--and in various ways endeavoring to realize that their -nation was now at peace with this part of the world. A part of each -regiment, chiefly officers, are allowed to marry. A grandfatherly, -would-be witty Englishman could give a Yankee whom he was patronizing -no reason for the bare knees of the Highlanders, other than oddity. -The rock within the citadel is a little convex, so that shells falling -on it would roll toward the circumference, where the barracks of the -soldiers and officers are; it has been proposed, therefore, to make it -slightly concave, so that they may roll into the centre, where they -would be comparatively harmless; and it is estimated that to do this -would cost twenty thousand pounds sterling. It may be well to remember -this when I build my next house, and have the roof "all correct" for -bomb-shells. - -At mid-afternoon we made haste down Sault-au-Matelot Street, towards -the Falls of Montmorenci, about eight miles down the St. Lawrence, on -the north side, leaving the further examination of Quebec till our -return. On our way, we saw men in the streets sawing logs pit-fashion, -and afterward, with a common wood-saw and horse, cutting the planks -into squares for paving the streets. This looked very shiftless, -especially in a country abounding in water-power, and reminded me that -I was no longer in Yankeeland. I found, on inquiry, that the excuse -for this was that labor was so cheap; and I thought, with some pain, -how cheap men are here! I have since learned that the English traveler -Warburton remarked, soon after landing at Quebec, that everything was -cheap there but men. That must be the difference between going thither -from New and from Old England. I had already observed the dogs -harnessed to their little milk-carts, which contain a single large -can, lying asleep in the gutters regardless of the horses, while they -rested from their labors, at different stages of the ascent in the -Upper Town. I was surprised at the regular and extensive use made of -these animals for drawing not only milk but groceries, wood, etc. It -reminded me that the dog commonly is not put to any use. Cats catch -mice; but dogs only worry the cats. Kalm, a hundred years ago, saw -sledges here for ladies to ride in, drawn by a pair of dogs. He says, -"A middle-sized dog is sufficient to draw a single person, when the -roads are good;" and he was told by old people that horses were very -scarce in their youth, and almost all the land-carriage was then -effected by dogs. They made me think of the Esquimaux, who, in fact, -are the next people on the north. Charlevoix says that the first -horses were introduced in 1665. - -We crossed Dorchester Bridge, over the St. Charles, the little river -in which Cartier, the discoverer of the St. Lawrence, put his ships, -and spent the winter of 1535, and found ourselves on an excellent -macadamized road, called Le Chemin de Beauport. We had left Concord -Wednesday morning, and we endeavored to realize that now, Friday -morning, we were taking a walk in Canada, in the Seigniory of -Beauport, a foreign country, which a few days before had seemed -almost as far off as England and France. Instead of rambling to -Flint's Pond or the Sudbury meadows, we found ourselves, after being a -little detained in cars and steamboats,--after spending half a night -at Burlington, and half a day at Montreal,--taking a walk down the -bank of the St. Lawrence to the Falls of Montmorenci and elsewhere. -Well, I thought to myself, here I am in a foreign country; let me have -my eyes about me, and take it all in. It already looked and felt a -good deal colder than it had in New England, as we might have expected -it would. I realized fully that I was four degrees nearer the pole, -and shuddered at the thought; and I wondered if it were possible that -the peaches might not be all gone when I returned. It was an -atmosphere that made me think of the fur-trade, which is so -interesting a department in Canada, for I had for all head-covering a -thin palm-leaf hat without lining, that cost twenty-five cents, and -over my coat one of those unspeakably cheap, as well as thin, brown -linen sacks of the Oak Hall pattern, which every summer appear all -over New England, thick as the leaves upon the trees. It was a -thoroughly Yankee costume, which some of my fellow-travelers wore in -the cars to save their coats a dusting. I wore mine, at first, because -it looked better than the coat it covered, and last, because two coats -were warmer than one, though one was thin and dirty. I never wear my -best coat on a journey, though perchance I could show a certificate to -prove that I have a more costly one, at least, at home, if that were -all that a gentleman required. It is not wise for a traveler to go -dressed. I should no more think of it than of putting on a clean -dicky and blacking my shoes to go a-fishing; as if you were going out -to dine, when, in fact, the genuine traveler is going out to work -hard, and fare harder,--to eat a crust by the wayside whenever he can -get it. Honest traveling is about as dirty work as you can do, and a -man needs a pair of overalls for it. As for blacking my shoes in such -a case, I should as soon think of blacking my face. I carry a piece of -tallow to preserve the leather and keep out the water; that's all; and -many an officious shoe-black, who carried off my shoes when I was -slumbering, mistaking me for a gentleman, has had occasion to repent -it before he produced a gloss on them. - -My pack, in fact, was soon made, for I keep a short list of those -articles which, from frequent experience, I have found indispensable -to the foot-traveler; and, when I am about to start, I have only to -consult that, to be sure that nothing is omitted, and, what is more -important, nothing superfluous inserted. Most of my fellow-travelers -carried carpet-bags, or valises. Sometimes one had two or three -ponderous yellow valises in his clutch, at each hitch of the cars, as -if we were going to have another rush for seats; and when there was a -rush in earnest,--and there were not a few,--I would see my man in the -crowd, with two or three affectionate lusty fellows along each side of -his arm, between his shoulder and his valises, which last held them -tight to his back, like the nut on the end of a screw. I could not -help asking in my mind, What so great cause for showing Canada to -those valises, when perhaps your very nieces had to stay at home for -want of an escort? I should have liked to be present when the -custom-house officer came aboard of him, and asked him to declare upon -his honor if he had anything but wearing apparel in them. Even the -elephant carries but a small trunk on his journeys. The perfection of -traveling is to travel without baggage. After considerable reflection -and experience, I have concluded that the best bag for the -foot-traveler is made with a handkerchief, or, if he study -appearances, a piece of stiff brown paper, well tied up, with a fresh -piece within to put outside when the first is torn. That is good for -both town and country, and none will know but you are carrying home -the silk for a new gown for your wife, when it may be a dirty shirt. A -bundle which you can carry literally under your arm, and which will -shrink and swell with its contents. I never found the carpet-bag of -equal capacity which was not a bundle of itself. We styled ourselves -the Knights of the Umbrella and the Bundle; for, wherever we went, -whether to Notre Dame or Mount Royal or the Champ de Mars, to the Town -Major's or the Bishop's Palace, to the Citadel, with a bare-legged -Highlander for our escort, or to the Plains of Abraham, to dinner or -to bed, the umbrella and the bundle went with us; for we wished to be -ready to digress at any moment. We made it our home nowhere in -particular, but everywhere where our umbrella and bundle were. It -would have been an amusing circumstance, if the mayor of one of those -cities had politely asked us where we were staying. We could only have -answered that we were staying with his honor for the time being. I was -amused when, after our return, some green ones inquired if we found it -easy to get accommodated; as if we went abroad to get accommodated, -when we can get that at home. - -We met with many charettes, bringing wood and stone to the city. The -most ordinary-looking horses traveled faster than ours, or perhaps -they were ordinary-looking because, as I am told, the Canadians do not -use the curry-comb. Moreover, it is said that on the approach of -winter their horses acquire an increased quantity of hair, to protect -them from the cold. If this be true, some of our horses would make you -think winter were approaching, even in midsummer. We soon began to see -women and girls at work in the fields, digging potatoes alone, or -bundling up the grain which the men cut. They appeared in rude health, -with a great deal of color in their cheeks, and, if their occupation -had made them coarse, it impressed me as better in its effects than -making shirts at fourpence apiece, or doing nothing at all--unless it -be chewing slate-pencils--with still smaller results. They were much -more agreeable objects, with their great broad-brimmed hats and -flowing dresses, than the men and boys. We afterwards saw them doing -various other kinds of work; indeed, I thought that we saw more women -at work out of doors than men. On our return, we observed in this town -a girl, with Indian boots nearly two feet high, taking the harness off -a dog. - -The purity and transparency of the atmosphere were wonderful. When we -had been walking an hour, we were surprised, on turning round, to see -how near the city, with its glittering tin roofs, still looked. A -village ten miles off did not appear to be more than three or four. I -was convinced that you could see objects distinctly there much -farther than here. It is true the villages are of a dazzling white, -but the dazzle is to be referred, perhaps, to the transparency of the -atmosphere as much as to the whitewash. - -We were now fairly in the village of Beauport, though there was still -but one road. The houses stood close upon this, without any front -yards, and at an angle with it, as if they had dropped down, being set -with more reference to the road which the sun travels. It being about -sundown, and the falls not far off, we began to look round for a -lodging, for we preferred to put up at a private house, that we might -see more of the inhabitants. We inquired first at the most -promising-looking houses,--if, indeed, any were promising. When we -knocked, they shouted some French word for come in, perhaps _Entrez_, -and we asked for a lodging in English; but we found, unexpectedly, -that they spoke French only. Then we went along and tried another -house, being generally saluted by a rush of two or three little curs, -which readily distinguished a foreigner, and which we were prepared -now to hear bark in French. Our first question would be "Parlez-vous -Anglais?" but the invariable answer was "Non, monsieur;" and we soon -found that the inhabitants were exclusively French Canadians, and -nobody spoke English at all, any more than in France; that, in fact, -we were in a foreign country, where the inhabitants uttered not one -familiar sound to us. Then we tried by turns to talk French with them, -in which we succeeded sometimes pretty well, but for the most part -pretty ill. "Pouvez-vous nous donner un lit cette nuit?" we would -ask, and then they would answer with French volubility, so that we -could catch only a word here and there. We could understand the women -and children generally better than the men, and they us; and thus, -after a while, we would learn that they had no more beds than they -used. - -So we were compelled to inquire, "Y a-t-il une maison publique ici?" -(_auberge_ we should have said, perhaps, for they seemed never to have -heard of the other), and they answered at length that there was no -tavern, unless we could get lodgings at the mill, _le moulin_, which -we had passed; or they would direct us to a grocery, and almost every -house had a small grocery at one end of it. We called on the public -notary or village lawyer, but he had no more beds nor English than the -rest. At one house there was so good a misunderstanding at once -established through the politeness of all parties, that we were -encouraged to walk in and sit down, and ask for a glass of water; and -having drank their water, we thought it was as good as to have tasted -their salt. When our host and his wife spoke of their poor -accommodations, meaning for themselves, we assured them that they were -good enough, for we thought that they were only apologizing for the -poorness of the accommodations they were about to offer us, and we did -not discover our mistake till they took us up a ladder into a loft, -and showed to our eyes what they had been laboring in vain to -communicate to our brains through our ears, that they had but that one -apartment with its few beds for the whole family. We made our _adieus_ -forthwith, and with gravity, perceiving the literal signification of -that word. We were finally taken in at a sort of public house, whose -master worked for Patterson, the proprietor of the extensive sawmills -driven by a portion of the Montmorenci stolen from the fall, whose -roar we now heard. We here talked, or murdered, French all the -evening, with the master of the house and his family, and probably had -a more amusing time than if we had completely understood one another. -At length they showed us to a bed in their best chamber, very high to -get into, with a low wooden rail to it. It had no cotton sheets, but -coarse, home-made, dark-colored linen ones. Afterward, we had to do -with sheets still coarser than these, and nearly the color of our -blankets. There was a large open buffet loaded with crockery in one -corner of the room, as if to display their wealth to travelers, and -pictures of Scripture scenes, French, Italian, and Spanish, hung -around. Our hostess came back directly to inquire if we would have -brandy for breakfast. The next morning, when I asked their names, she -took down the temperance pledges of herself and husband and children, -which were hanging against the wall. They were Jean Baptiste Binet and -his wife, Genevieve Binet. Jean Baptiste is the sobriquet of the -French Canadians. - -After breakfast we proceeded to the fall, which was within half a -mile, and at this distance its rustling sound, like the wind among the -leaves, filled all the air. We were disappointed to find that we were -in some measure shut out from the west side of the fall by the private -grounds and fences of Patterson, who appropriates not only a part of -the water for his mill, but a still larger part of the prospect, so -that we were obliged to trespass. This gentleman's mansion-house and -grounds were formerly occupied by the Duke of Kent, father to Queen -Victoria. It appeared to me in bad taste for an individual, though he -were the father of Queen Victoria, to obtrude himself with his land -titles, or at least his fences, on so remarkable a natural phenomenon, -which should, in every sense, belong to mankind. Some falls should -even be kept sacred from the intrusion of mills and factories, as -water privileges in another than the millwright's sense. This small -river falls perpendicularly nearly two hundred and fifty feet at one -pitch. The St. Lawrence falls only one hundred and sixty-four feet at -Niagara. It is a very simple and noble fall, and leaves nothing to be -desired; but the most that I could say of it would only have the force -of one other testimony to assure the reader that it is there. We -looked directly down on it from the point of a projecting rock, and -saw far below us, on a low promontory, the grass kept fresh and green -by the perpetual drizzle, looking like moss. The rock is a kind of -slate, in the crevices of which grew ferns and goldenrods. The -prevailing trees on the shores were spruce and arbor-vitae,--the latter -very large and now full of fruit,--also aspens, alders, and the -mountain-ash with its berries. Every emigrant who arrives in this -country by way of the St. Lawrence, as he opens a point of the Isle of -Orleans, sees the Montmorenci tumbling into the Great River thus -magnificently in a vast white sheet, making its contribution with -emphasis. Roberval's pilot, Jean Alphonse, saw this fall thus, and -described it, in 1542. It is a splendid introduction to the scenery of -Quebec. Instead of an artificial fountain in its square, Quebec has -this magnificent natural waterfall, to adorn one side of its harbor. -Within the mouth of the chasm below, which can be entered only at -ebb-tide, we had a grand view at once of Quebec and of the fall. Kalm -says that the noise of the fall is sometimes heard at Quebec, about -eight miles distant, and is a sign of a northeast wind. The side of -this chasm, of soft and crumbling slate too steep to climb, was among -the memorable features of the scene. In the winter of 1829 the frozen -spray of the fall, descending on the ice of the St. Lawrence, made a -hill one hundred and twenty-six feet high. It is an annual phenomenon -which some think may help explain the formation of glaciers. - -In the vicinity of the fall we began to notice what looked like our -red-fruited thorn bushes, grown to the size of ordinary apple trees, -very common, and full of large red or yellow fruit, which the -inhabitants called _pommettes_, but I did not learn that they were put -to any use. - -FOOTNOTE: - -[1] Hierosme Lalemant says in 1648, in his Relation, he being -Superior: "All those who come to New France know well enough the -mountain of Notre Dame, because the pilots and sailors, being arrived -at that part of the Great River which is opposite to those high -mountains, baptize ordinarily for sport the new passengers, if they do -not turn aside by some present the inundation of this baptism which -one makes flow plentifully on their heads." - - - - -CHAPTER III - -ST. ANNE - - -By the middle of the forenoon, though it was a rainy day, we were once -more on our way down the north bank of the St. Lawrence, in a -northeasterly direction, toward the Falls of St. Anne, which are about -thirty miles from Quebec. The settled, more level, and fertile portion -of Canada East may be described rudely as a triangle, with its apex -slanting toward the northeast, about one hundred miles wide at its -base, and from two to three or even four hundred miles long, if you -reckon its narrow northeastern extremity; it being the immediate -valley of the St. Lawrence and its tributaries, rising by a single or -by successive terraces toward the mountains on either hand. Though the -words Canada East on the map stretch over many rivers and lakes and -unexplored wildernesses, the actual Canada, which might be the colored -portion of the map, is but a little clearing on the banks of the -river, which one of those syllables would more than cover. The banks -of the St. Lawrence are rather low from Montreal to the Richelieu -Rapids, about forty miles above Quebec. Thence they rise gradually to -Cape Diamond, or Quebec. Where we now were, eight miles northeast of -Quebec, the mountains which form the northern side of this triangle -were only five or six miles distant from the river, gradually -departing farther and farther from it, on the west, till they reach -the Ottawa, and making haste to meet it on the east, at Cape -Tourmente, now in plain sight about twenty miles distant. So that we -were traveling in a very narrow and sharp triangle between the -mountains and the river, tilted up toward the mountains on the north, -never losing sight of our great fellow-traveler on our right. -According to Bouchette's Topographical Description of the Canadas, we -were in the Seigniory of the Cote de Beaupre, in the county of -Montmorenci, and the district of Quebec,--in that part of Canada which -was the first to be settled, and where the face of the country and the -population have undergone the least change from the beginning, where -the influence of the States and of Europe is least felt, and the -inhabitants see little or nothing of the world over the walls of -Quebec. This Seigniory was granted in 1636, and is now the property of -the Seminary of Quebec. It is the most mountainous one in the -province. There are some half a dozen parishes in it, each containing -a church, parsonage-house, gristmill, and several sawmills. We were -now in the most westerly parish, called Ange Gardien, or the Guardian -Angel, which is bounded on the west by the Montmorenci. The north bank -of the St. Lawrence here is formed on a grand scale. It slopes gently, -either directly from the shore or from the edge of an interval, till, -at the distance of about a mile, it attains the height of four or five -hundred feet. The single road runs along the side of the slope two or -three hundred feet above the river at first, and from a quarter of a -mile to a mile distant from it, and affords fine views of the north -channel, which is about a mile wide, and of the beautiful Isle of -Orleans, about twenty miles long by five wide, where grow the best -apples and plums in the Quebec district. - -Though there was but this single road, it was a continuous village for -as far as we walked this day and the next, or about thirty miles down -the river, the houses being as near together all the way as in the -middle of one of our smallest straggling country villages, and we -could never tell by their number when we were on the skirts of a -parish, for the road never ran through the fields or woods. We were -told that it was just six miles from one parish church to another. I -thought that we saw every house in Ange Gardien. Therefore, as it was -a muddy day, we never got out of the mud, nor out of the village, -unless we got over the fence; then, indeed, if it was on the north -side, we were out of the civilized world. There were sometimes a few -more houses near the church, it is true, but we had only to go a -quarter of a mile from the road, to the top of the bank, to find -ourselves on the verge of the uninhabited, and, for the most part, -unexplored wilderness stretching toward Hudson's Bay. The farms -accordingly were extremely long and narrow, each having a frontage on -the river. Bouchette accounts for this peculiar manner of laying out a -village by referring to "the social character of the Canadian peasant, -who is singularly fond of neighborhood," also to the advantage arising -from a concentration of strength in Indian times. Each farm, called -_terre_, he says, is, in nine cases out of ten, three arpents wide by -thirty deep, that is, very nearly thirty-five by three hundred and -forty-nine of our rods; sometimes one half arpent by thirty, or one to -sixty; sometimes, in fact, a few yards by half a mile. Of course it -costs more for fences. A remarkable difference between the Canadian -and the New England character appears from the fact that, in 1745, the -French government were obliged to pass a law forbidding the farmers or -_censitaires_ building on land less than one and a half arpents front -by thirty or forty deep, under a certain penalty, in order to compel -emigration, and bring the seigneur's estates all under cultivation; -and it is thought that they have now less reluctance to leave the -paternal roof than formerly, "removing beyond the sight of the parish -spire, or the sound of the parish bell." But I find that in the -previous or seventeenth century, the complaint, often renewed, was of -a totally opposite character, namely, that the inhabitants dispersed -and exposed themselves to the Iroquois. Accordingly, about 1664, the -king was obliged to order that "they should make no more clearings -except one next to another, and that they should reduce their parishes -to the form of the parishes in France as much as possible." The -Canadians of those days, at least, possessed a roving spirit of -adventure which carried them further, in exposure to hardship and -danger, than ever the New England colonist went, and led them, though -not to clear and colonize the wilderness, yet to range over it as -_coureurs de bois_, or runners of the woods, or, as Hontan prefers to -call them, _coureurs de risques_, runners of risks; to say nothing of -their enterprising priesthood; and Charlevoix thinks that if the -authorities had taken the right steps to prevent the youth from -ranging the woods (_de courir les bois_), they would have had an -excellent militia to fight the Indians and English. - -The road in this clayey-looking soil was exceedingly muddy in -consequence of the night's rain. We met an old woman directing her -dog, which was harnessed to a little cart, to the least muddy part of -it. It was a beggarly sight. But harnessed to the cart as he was, we -heard him barking after we had passed, though we looked anywhere but -to the cart to see where the dog was that barked. The houses commonly -fronted the south, whatever angle they might make with the road; and -frequently they had no door nor cheerful window on the road side. Half -the time they stood fifteen to forty rods from the road, and there was -no very obvious passage to them, so that you would suppose that there -must be another road running by them. They were of stone, rather -coarsely mortared, but neatly whitewashed, almost invariably one story -high and long in proportion to their height, with a shingled roof, the -shingles being pointed, for ornament, at the eaves, like the pickets -of a fence, and also one row halfway up the roof. The gables sometimes -projected a foot or two at the ridge-pole only. Yet they were very -humble and unpretending dwellings. They commonly had the date of their -erection on them. The windows opened in the middle, like blinds, and -were frequently provided with solid shutters. Sometimes, when we -walked along the back side of a house which stood near the road, we -observed stout stakes leaning against it, by which the shutters, now -pushed half open, were fastened at night; within, the houses were -neatly ceiled with wood not painted. The oven was commonly out of -doors, built of stone and mortar, frequently on a raised platform of -planks. The cellar was often on the opposite side of the road, in -front of or behind the houses, looking like an ice-house with us, with -a lattice door for summer. The very few mechanics whom we met had an -old-Bettyish look, in their aprons and _bonnets rouges_ like fools' -caps. The men wore commonly the same _bonnet rouge_, or red woolen or -worsted cap, or sometimes blue or gray, looking to us as if they had -got up with their night-caps on, and, in fact, I afterwards found that -they had. Their clothes were of the cloth of the country, _etoffe du -pays_, gray or some other plain color. The women looked stout, with -gowns that stood out stiffly, also, for the most part, apparently of -some home-made stuff. We also saw some specimens of the more -characteristic winter dress of the Canadian, and I have since -frequently detected him in New England by his coarse gray homespun -capote and picturesque red sash, and his well-furred cap, made to -protect his ears against the severity of his climate. - -It drizzled all day, so that the roads did not improve. We began now -to meet with wooden crosses frequently, by the roadside, about a dozen -feet high, often old and toppling down, sometimes standing in a square -wooden platform, sometimes in a pile of stones, with a little niche -containing a picture of the Virgin and Child, or of Christ alone, -sometimes with a string of beads, and covered with a piece of glass to -keep out the rain, with the words, _Pour la Vierge_, or INRI, on them. -Frequently, on the cross-bar, there would be quite a collection of -symbolical knickknacks, looking like an Italian's board; the -representation in wood of a hand, a hammer, spikes, pincers, a flask -of vinegar, a ladder, etc., the whole, perchance, surmounted by a -weathercock; but I could not look at an honest weathercock in this -walk without mistrusting that there was some covert reference in it to -St. Peter. From time to time we passed a little one-story chapel-like -building, with a tin-roofed spire, a shrine, perhaps it would be -called, close to the path-side, with a lattice door, through which we -could see an altar, and pictures about the walls; equally open, -through rain and shine, though there was no getting into it. At these -places the inhabitants kneeled and perhaps breathed a short prayer. We -saw one schoolhouse in our walk, and listened to the sounds which -issued from it; but it appeared like a place where the process, not of -enlightening, but of obfuscating the mind was going on, and the pupils -received only so much light as could penetrate the shadow of the -Catholic Church. The churches were very picturesque, and their -interior much more showy than the dwelling-houses promised. They were -of stone, for it was ordered, in 1699, that that should be their -material. They had tinned spires, and quaint ornaments. That of Ange -Gardien had a dial on it, with the Middle Age Roman numerals on its -face, and some images in niches on the outside. Probably its -counterpart has existed in Normandy for a thousand years. At the -church of Chateau Richer, which is the next parish to Ange Gardien, we -read, looking over the wall, the inscriptions in the adjacent -churchyard, which began with _Ici git_ or _Repose_, and one over a boy -contained _Priez pour lui_. This answered as well as Pere la Chaise. -We knocked at the door of the cure's house here, when a sleek, -friar-like personage, in his sacerdotal robe, appeared. To our -"Parlez-vous Anglais?" even he answered, "Non, monsieur;" but at last -we made him understand what we wanted. It was to find the ruins of the -old _chateau_. "Ah! oui! oui!" he exclaimed, and, donning his coat, -hastened forth, and conducted us to a small heap of rubbish which we -had already examined. He said that fifteen years before, it was _plus -considerable_. Seeing at that moment three little red birds fly out of -a crevice in the ruins, up into an arbor-vitae tree which grew out of -them, I asked him their names, in such French as I could muster, but -he neither understood me nor ornithology; he only inquired where we -had _appris a parler Francais_; we told him, _dans les Etats-Unis_; -and so we bowed him into his house again. I was surprised to find a -man wearing a black coat, and with apparently no work to do, even in -that part of the world. - -The universal salutation from the inhabitants whom we met was _bon -jour_, at the same time touching the hat; with _bon jour_, and -touching your hat, you may go smoothly through all Canada East. A -little boy, meeting us, would remark, "Bon jour, monsieur; le chemin -est mauvais" (Good morning, sir; it is bad walking). Sir Francis Head -says that the immigrant is forward to "appreciate the happiness of -living in a land in which the old country's servile custom of touching -the hat does not exist," but he was thinking of Canada West, of -course. It would, indeed, be a serious bore to be obliged to touch -your hat several times a day. A Yankee has not leisure for it. - -We saw peas, and even beans, collected into heaps in the fields. The -former are an important crop here, and, I suppose, are not so much -infested by the weevil as with us. There were plenty of apples, very -fair and sound, by the roadside, but they were so small as to suggest -the origin of the apple in the crab. There was also a small, red fruit -which they called _snells_, and another, also red and very acid, whose -name a little boy wrote for me, "_pinbena_." It is probably the same -with, or similar to, the _pembina_ of the voyageurs, a species of -viburnum, which, according to Richardson, has given its name to many -of the rivers of Rupert's Land. The forest trees were spruce, -arbor-vitae, firs, birches, beeches, two or three kinds of maple, -basswood, wild cherry, aspens, etc., but no pitch pines (_Pinus -rigida_). I saw very few, if any, trees which had been set out for -shade or ornament. The water was commonly running streams or springs -in the bank by the roadside, and was excellent. The parishes are -commonly separated by a stream, and frequently the farms. I noticed -that the fields were furrowed or thrown into beds seven or eight feet -wide to dry the soil. - -At the Riviere du Sault a la Puce, which, I suppose, means the River -of the Fall of the Flea, was advertised in English, as the sportsmen -are English, "The best Snipe-shooting grounds," over the door of a -small public house. These words being English affected me as if I had -been absent now ten years from my country, and for so long had not -heard the sound of my native language, and every one of them was as -interesting to me as if I had been a snipe-shooter, and they had been -snipes. The prunella, or self-heal, in the grass here, was an old -acquaintance. We frequently saw the inhabitants washing or cooking -for their pigs, and in one place hackling flax by the roadside. It was -pleasant to see these usually domestic operations carried on out of -doors, even in that cold country. - -At twilight we reached a bridge over a little river, the boundary -between Chateau Richer and St. Anne, _le premier pont de Ste. Anne_, -and at dark the church of _La Bonne Ste. Anne_. Formerly vessels from -France, when they came in sight of this church, gave "a general -discharge of their artillery," as a sign of joy that they had escaped -all the dangers of the river. Though all the while we had grand views -of the adjacent country far up and down the river, and, for the most -part, when we turned about, of Quebec in the horizon behind us, and we -never beheld it without new surprise and admiration; yet, throughout -our walk, the Great River of Canada on our right hand was the main -feature in the landscape, and this expands so rapidly below the Isle -of Orleans, and creates such a breadth of level horizon above its -waters in that direction, that, looking down the river as we -approached the extremity of that island, the St. Lawrence seemed to be -opening into the ocean, though we were still about three hundred and -twenty-five miles from what can be called its mouth.[2] - -When we inquired here for a _maison publique_ we were directed -apparently to that private house where we were most likely to find -entertainment. There were no guide-boards where we walked, because -there was but one road; there were no shops nor signs, because there -were no artisans to speak of, and the people raised their own -provisions; and there were no taverns, because there were no -travelers. We here bespoke lodging and breakfast. They had, as usual, -a large, old-fashioned, two-storied box stove in the middle of the -room, out of which, in due time, there was sure to be forthcoming a -supper, breakfast, or dinner. The lower half held the fire, the upper -the hot air, and as it was a cool Canadian evening, this was a -comforting sight to us. Being four or five feet high it warmed the -whole person as you stood by it. The stove was plainly a very -important article of furniture in Canada, and was not set aside during -the summer. Its size, and the respect which was paid to it, told of -the severe winters which it had seen and prevailed over. The master of -the house, in his long-pointed red woolen cap, had a thoroughly -antique physiognomy of the old Norman stamp. He might have come over -with Jacques Cartier. His was the hardest French to understand of any -we had heard yet, for there was a great difference between one speaker -and another, and this man talked with a pipe in his mouth beside,--a -kind of tobacco French. I asked him what he called his dog. He shouted -_Brock_! (the name of the breed). We like to hear the cat called -_min_, "Min! min! min!" I inquired if we could cross the river here to -the Isle of Orleans, thinking to return that way when we had been to -the falls. He answered, "S'il ne fait pas un trop grand vent" (If -there is not too much wind). They use small boats, or pirogues, and -the waves are often too high for them. He wore, as usual, something -between a moccasin and a boot, which he called _bottes Indiennes_, -Indian boots, and had made himself. The tops were of calf or -sheepskin, and the soles of cowhide turned up like a moccasin. They -were yellow or reddish, the leather never having been tanned nor -colored. The women wore the same. He told us that he had traveled ten -leagues due north into the bush. He had been to the Falls of St. Anne, -and said that they were more beautiful, but not greater, than -Montmorenci, _plus beau, mais non plus grand, que Montmorenci_. As -soon as we had retired, the family commenced their devotions. A little -boy officiated, and for a long time we heard him muttering over his -prayers. - -In the morning, after a breakfast of tea, maple-sugar, bread and -butter, and what I suppose is called _potage_ (potatoes and meat -boiled with flour), the universal dish as we found, perhaps the -national one, I ran over to the Church of La Bonne Ste. Anne, whose -matin bell we had heard, it being Sunday morning. Our book said that -this church had "long been an object of interest, from the miraculous -cures said to have been wrought on visitors to the shrine." There was -a profusion of gilding, and I counted more than twenty-five crutches -suspended on the walls, some for grown persons, some for children, -which it was to be inferred so many sick had been able to dispense -with; but they looked as if they had been made to order by the -carpenter who made the church. There were one or two villagers at -their devotions at that early hour, who did not look up, but when they -had sat a long time with their little book before the picture of one -saint, went to another. Our whole walk was through a thoroughly -Catholic country, and there was no trace of any other religion. I -doubt if there are any more simple and unsophisticated Catholics -anywhere. Emery de Caen, Champlain's contemporary, told the Huguenot -sailors that "Monseigneur the Duke de Ventadour (Viceroy) did not wish -that they should sing psalms in the Great River." - -On our way to the falls, we met the habitans coming to the Church of -La Bonne Ste. Anne, walking or riding in charettes by families. I -remarked that they were universally of small stature. The toll-man at -the bridge over the St. Anne was the first man we had chanced to meet, -since we left Quebec, who could speak a word of English. How good -French the inhabitants of this part of Canada speak, I am not -competent to say; I only know that it is not made impure by being -mixed with English. I do not know why it should not be as good as is -spoken in Normandy. Charlevoix, who was here a hundred years ago, -observes, "The French language is nowhere spoken with greater purity, -there being no accent perceptible;" and Potherie said "they had no -dialect, which, indeed, is generally lost in a colony." - -The falls, which we were in search of, are three miles up the St. -Anne. We followed for a short distance a foot-path up the east bank of -this river, through handsome sugar maple and arbor-vitae groves. Having -lost the path which led to a house where we were to get further -directions, we dashed at once into the woods, steering by guess and by -compass, climbing directly through woods a steep hill, or mountain, -five or six hundred feet high, which was, in fact, only the bank of -the St. Lawrence. Beyond this we by good luck fell into another path, -and following this or a branch of it, at our discretion, through a -forest consisting of large white pines,--the first we had seen in our -walk,--we at length heard the roar of falling water, and came out at -the head of the Falls of St. Anne. We had descended into a ravine or -cleft in the mountain, whose walls rose still a hundred feet above us, -though we were near its top, and we now stood on a very rocky shore, -where the water had lately flowed a dozen feet higher, as appeared by -the stones and driftwood, and large birches twisted and splintered as -a farmer twists a withe. Here the river, one or two hundred feet wide, -came flowing rapidly over a rocky bed out of that interesting -wilderness which stretches toward Hudson's Bay and Davis's Straits. -Ha-ha Bay, on the Saguenay, was about one hundred miles north of where -we stood. Looking on the map, I find that the first country on the -north which bears a name is that part of Rupert's Land called East -Main. This river, called after the holy Anne, flowing from such a -direction, here tumbled over a precipice, at present by three -channels, how far down I do not know, but far enough for all our -purposes, and to as good a distance as if twice as far. It matters -little whether you call it one, or two, or three hundred feet; at any -rate, it was a sufficient water privilege for us. I crossed the -principal channel directly over the verge of the fall, where it was -contracted to about fifteen feet in width, by a dead tree which had -been dropped across and secured in a cleft of the opposite rock, and -a smaller one a few feet higher, which served for a hand-rail. This -bridge was rotten as well as small and slippery, being stripped of -bark, and I was obliged to seize a moment to pass when the falling -water did not surge over it, and midway, though at the expense of wet -feet, I looked down probably more than a hundred feet, into the mist -and foam below. This gave me the freedom of an island of precipitous -rock by which I descended as by giant steps,--the rock being composed -of large cubical masses, clothed with delicate close-hugging lichens -of various colors, kept fresh and bright by the moisture,--till I -viewed the first fall from the front, and looked down still deeper to -where the second and third channels fell into a remarkably large -circular basin worn in the stone. The falling water seemed to jar the -very rocks, and the noise to be ever increasing. The vista down-stream -was through a narrow and deep cleft in the mountain, all white suds at -the bottom; but a sudden angle in this gorge prevented my seeing -through to the bottom of the fall. Returning to the shore, I made my -way down-stream through the forest to see how far the fall extended, -and how the river came out of that adventure. It was to clamber along -the side of a precipitous mountain of loose mossy rocks, covered with -a damp primitive forest, and terminating at the bottom in an abrupt -precipice over the stream. This was the east side of the fall. At -length, after a quarter of a mile, I got down to still water, and, on -looking up through the winding gorge, I could just see to the foot of -the fall which I had before examined; while from the opposite side of -the stream, here much contracted, rose a perpendicular wall, I will -not venture to say how many hundred feet, but only that it was the -highest perpendicular wall of bare rock that I ever saw. In front of -me tumbled in from the summit of the cliff a tributary stream, making -a beautiful cascade, which was a remarkable fall in itself, and there -was a cleft in this precipice, apparently four or five feet wide, -perfectly straight up and down from top to bottom, which, from its -cavernous depth and darkness, appeared merely as _a black streak_. -This precipice is not sloped, nor is the material soft and crumbling -slate as at Montmorenci, but it rises perpendicular, like the side of -a mountain fortress, and is cracked into vast cubical masses of gray -and black rock shining with moisture, as if it were the ruin of an -ancient wall built by Titans. Birches, spruces, mountain-ashes with -their bright red berries, arbor-vitaes, white pines, alders, etc., -overhung this chasm on the very verge of the cliff and in the -crevices, and here and there were buttresses of rock supporting trees -part way down, yet so as to enhance, not injure, the effect of the -bare rock. Take it altogether, it was a most wild and rugged and -stupendous chasm, so deep and narrow, where a river had worn itself a -passage through a mountain of rock, and all around was the -comparatively untrodden wilderness. - -This was the limit of our walk down the St. Lawrence. Early in the -afternoon we began to retrace our steps, not being able to cross the -north channel and return by the Isle of Orleans, on account of the -_trop grand vent_, or too great wind. Though the waves did run pretty -high, it was evident that the inhabitants of Montmorenci County were -no sailors, and made but little use of the river. When we reached the -bridge between St. Anne and Chateau Richer, I ran back a little way to -ask a man in the field the name of the river which we were crossing, -but for a long time I could not make out what he said, for he was one -of the more unintelligible Jacques Cartier men. At last it flashed -upon me that it was _La Riviere au Chien_, or the Dog River, which my -eyes beheld, which brought to my mind the life of the Canadian -voyageur and _coureur de bois_, a more western and wilder Arcadia, -methinks, than the world has ever seen; for the Greeks, with all their -wood and river gods, were not so qualified to name the natural -features of a country as the ancestors of these French Canadians; and -if any people had a right to substitute their own for the Indian -names, it was they. They have preceded the pioneer on our own -frontiers, and named the _prairie_ for us. _La Riviere au Chien_ -cannot, by any license of language, be translated into Dog River, for -that is not such a giving it to the dogs, and recognizing their place -in creation, as the French implies. One of the tributaries of the St. -Anne is named _La Riviere de la Rose_; and farther east are _La -Riviere de la Blondelle_ and _La Riviere de la Friponne_. Their very -_riviere_ meanders more than our _river_. - -Yet the impression which this country made on me was commonly -different from this. To a traveler from the Old World, Canada East may -appear like a new country, and its inhabitants like colonists, but to -me, coming from New England and being a very green traveler -withal,--notwithstanding what I have said about Hudson's Bay,--it -appeared as old as Normandy itself, and realized much that I had heard -of Europe and the Middle Ages. Even the names of humble Canadian -villages affected me as if they had been those of the renowned cities -of antiquity. To be told by a habitan, when I asked the name of a -village in sight, that it is _St. Fereol_ or _St. Anne_, the _Guardian -Angel_ or the _Holy Joseph's_; or of a mountain, that it was _Belange_ -or _St. Hyacinthe_! As soon as you leave the States, these saintly -names begin. _St. Johns_ is the first town you stop at (fortunately we -did not see it), and thenceforward, the names of the mountains, and -streams, and villages reel, if I may so speak, with the intoxication -of poetry,--_Chambly_, _Longueuil_, _Pointe aux Trembles_, -_Bartholomy_, etc., etc.; as if it needed only a little foreign -accent, a few more liquids and vowels perchance in the language, to -make us locate our ideals at once. I began to dream of Provence and -the Troubadours, and of places and things which have no existence on -the earth. They veiled the Indian and the primitive forest, and the -woods toward Hudson's Bay were only as the forests of France and -Germany. I could not at once bring myself to believe that the -inhabitants who pronounced daily those beautiful and, to me, -significant names lead as prosaic lives as we of New England. In -short, the Canada which I saw was not merely a place for railroads to -terminate in and for criminals to run to. - -When I asked the man to whom I have referred, if there were any falls -on the Riviere au Chien,--for I saw that it came over the same high -bank with the Montmorenci and St. Anne,--he answered that there were. -How far? I inquired. "Trois quatres lieue." How high? "Je -pense-quatre-vingt-dix pieds;" that is, ninety feet. We turned aside -to look at the falls of the Riviere du Sault a la Puce, half a mile -from the road, which before we had passed in our haste and ignorance, -and we pronounced them as beautiful as any that we saw; yet they -seemed to make no account of them there, and, when first we inquired -the way to the falls, directed us to Montmorenci, seven miles distant. -It was evident that this was the country for waterfalls; that every -stream that empties into the St. Lawrence, for some hundreds of miles, -must have a great fall or cascade on it, and in its passage through -the mountains was, for a short distance, a small Saguenay, with its -upright walls. This fall of La Puce, the least remarkable of the four -which we visited in this vicinity, we had never heard of till we came -to Canada, and yet, so far as I know, there is nothing of the kind in -New England to be compared with it. Most travelers in Canada would not -hear of it, though they might go so near as to hear it. Since my -return I find that in the topographical description of the country -mention is made of "two or three romantic falls" on this stream, -though we saw and heard of but this one. Ask the inhabitants -respecting any stream, if there is a fall on it, and they will -perchance tell you of something as interesting as Bashpish or the -Catskill, which no traveler has ever seen, or if they have not found -it, you may possibly trace up the stream and discover it yourself. -Falls there are a drug, and we became quite dissipated in respect to -them. We had drank too much of them. Beside these which I have -referred to, there are a thousand other falls on the St. Lawrence and -its tributaries which I have not seen nor heard of; and above all -there is one which I have heard of, called Niagara, so that I think -that this river must be the most remarkable for its falls of any in -the world. - -At a house near the western boundary of Chateau Richer, whose master -was said to speak a very little English, having recently lived at -Quebec, we got lodging for the night. As usual, we had to go down a -lane to get round to the south side of the house, where the door was, -away from the road. For these Canadian houses have no front door, -properly speaking. Every part is for the use of the occupant -exclusively, and no part has reference to the traveler or to travel. -Every New England house, on the contrary, has a front and principal -door opening to the great world, though it may be on the cold side, -for it stands on the highway of nations, and the road which runs by it -comes from the Old World and goes to the far West; but the Canadian's -door opens into his backyard and farm alone, and the road which runs -behind his house leads only from the church of one saint to that of -another. We found a large family, hired men, wife, and children, just -eating their supper. They prepared some for us afterwards. The hired -men were a merry crew of short, black-eyed fellows, and the wife a -thin-faced, sharp-featured French-Canadian woman. Our host's English -staggered us rather more than any French we had heard yet; indeed, we -found that even we spoke better French than he did English, and we -concluded that a less crime would be committed on the whole if we -spoke French with him, and in no respect aided or abetted his attempts -to speak English. We had a long and merry chat with the family this -Sunday evening in their spacious kitchen. While my companion smoked a -pipe and parlez-vous'd with one party, I parleyed and gesticulated to -another. The whole family was enlisted, and I kept a little girl -writing what was otherwise unintelligible. The geography getting -obscure, we called for chalk, and the greasy oiled table-cloth having -been wiped,--for it needed no French, but only a sentence from the -universal language of looks on my part, to indicate that it needed -it,--we drew the St. Lawrence, with its parishes, thereon, and -thenceforward went on swimmingly, by turns handling the chalk and -committing to the table-cloth what would otherwise have been left in a -limbo of unintelligibility. This was greatly to the entertainment of -all parties. I was amused to hear how much use they made of the word -oui in conversation with one another. After repeated single insertions -of it, one would suddenly throw back his head at the same time with -his chair, and exclaim rapidly, "Oui! oui! oui! oui!" like a Yankee -driving pigs. Our host told us that the farms thereabouts were -generally two acres or three hundred and sixty French feet wide, by -one and a half leagues (?), or a little more than four and a half of -our miles deep. This use of the word _acre_ as long measure arises -from the fact that the French acre or arpent, the arpent of Paris, -makes a square of ten perches, of eighteen feet each, on a side, a -Paris foot being equal to 1.06575 English feet. He said that the wood -was cut off about one mile from the river. The rest was "bush," and -beyond that the "Queen's bush." Old as the country is, each landholder -bounds on the primitive forest, and fuel bears no price. As I had -forgotten the French for _sickle_, they went out in the evening to the -barn and got one, and so clenched the certainty of our understanding -one another. Then, wishing to learn if they used the cradle, and not -knowing any French word for this instrument, I set up the knives and -forks on the blade of the sickle to represent one; at which they all -exclaimed that they knew and had used it. When _snells_ were mentioned -they went out in the dark and plucked some. They were pretty good. -They said they had three kinds of plums growing wild,--blue, white, -and red, the two former much alike and the best. Also they asked me if -I would have _des pommes_, some apples, and got me some. They were -exceedingly fair and glossy, and it was evident that there was no worm -in them; but they were as hard almost as a stone, as if the season was -too short to mellow them. We had seen no soft and yellow apples by the -roadside. I declined eating one, much as I admired it, observing that -it would be good _dans le printemps_, in the spring. In the morning -when the mistress had set the eggs a-frying she nodded to a thick-set, -jolly-looking fellow, who rolled up his sleeves, seized the -long-handled griddle, and commenced a series of revolutions and -evolutions with it, ever and anon tossing its contents into the air, -where they turned completely topsy-turvy and came down t'other side -up; and this he repeated till they were done. That appeared to be his -duty when eggs were concerned. I did not chance to witness this -performance, but my companion did, and he pronounced it a masterpiece -in its way. This man's farm, with the buildings, cost seven hundred -pounds; some smaller ones, two hundred. - -In 1827, Montmorenci County, to which the Isle of Orleans has since -been added, was nearly as large as Massachusetts, being the eighth -county out of forty (in Lower Canada) in extent; but by far the -greater part still must continue to be waste land, lying as it were -under the walls of Quebec. - -I quote these old statistics, not merely because of the difficulty of -obtaining more recent ones, but also because I saw there so little -evidence of any recent growth. There were in this county, at the same -date, five Roman Catholic churches, and no others, five cures and five -presbyteries, two schools, two corn-mills, four sawmills, one -carding-mill,--no medical man or notary or lawyer,--five shopkeepers, -four taverns (we saw no sign of any, though, after a little -hesitation, we were sometimes directed to some undistinguished hut as -such), thirty artisans, and five river crafts, whose tonnage amounted -to sixty-nine tons! This, notwithstanding that it has a frontage of -more than thirty miles on the river, and the population is almost -wholly confined to its banks. This describes nearly enough what we -saw. But double some of these figures, which, however, its growth will -not warrant, and you have described a poverty which not even its -severity of climate and ruggedness of soil will suffice to account -for. The principal productions were wheat, potatoes, oats, hay, peas, -flax, maple-sugar, etc., etc.; linen cloth, or _etoffe du pays_, -flannel, and homespun, or _petite etoffe_. - -In Lower Canada, according to Bouchette, there are two tenures,--the -feudal and the socage. _Tenanciers_, _censitaires_, or holders of land -_en roture_ pay a small annual rent to the seigneurs, to which "is -added some articles of provision, such as a couple of fowls, or a -goose, or a bushel of wheat." "They are also bound to grind their corn -at the _moulin banal_, or the lord's mill, where one fourteenth part -of it is taken for his use" as toll. He says that the toll is one -twelfth in the United States where competition exists. It is not -permitted to exceed one sixteenth in Massachusetts. But worse than -this monopolizing of mill rents is what are called _lods et ventes_, -or mutation fines,--according to which the seigneur has "a right to a -twelfth part of the purchase-money of every estate within his -seigniory that changes its owner by sale." This is over and above the -sum paid to the seller. In such cases, moreover, "the lord possesses -the _droit de retrait_, which is the privilege of preemption at the -highest bidden price within forty days after the sale has taken -place,"--a right which, however, is said to be seldom exercised. -"Lands held by Roman Catholics are further subject to the payment to -their curates of one twenty-sixth part of all the grain produced upon -them, and to occasional assessments for building and repairing -churches," etc.,--a tax to which they are not subject if the -proprietors change their faith; but they are not the less attached to -their church in consequence. There are, however, various modifications -of the feudal tenure. Under the socage tenure, which is that of the -townships or more recent settlements, English, Irish, Scotch, and -others, and generally of Canada West, the landholder is wholly -unshackled by such conditions as I have quoted, and "is bound to no -other obligations than those of allegiance to the king and obedience -to the laws." Throughout Canada "a freehold of forty shillings yearly -value, or the payment of ten pounds rent annually, is the -qualification for voters." In 1846 more than one sixth of the whole -population of Canada East were qualified to vote for members of -Parliament,--a greater proportion than enjoy a similar privilege in -the United States. - -The population which we had seen the last two days--I mean the -habitans of Montmorenci County--appeared very inferior, intellectually -and even physically, to that of New England. In some respects they -were incredibly filthy. It was evident that they had not advanced -since the settlement of the country, that they were quite behind the -age, and fairly represented their ancestors in Normandy a thousand -years ago. Even in respect to the common arts of life, they are not so -far advanced as a frontier town in the West three years old. They have -no money invested in railroad stock, and probably never will have. If -they have got a French phrase for a railroad, it is as much as you can -expect of them. They are very far from a revolution, have no quarrel -with Church or State, but their vice and their virtue is content. As -for annexation, they have never dreamed of it; indeed, they have not a -clear idea what or where the States are. The English government has -been remarkably liberal to its Catholic subjects in Canada, permitting -them to wear their own fetters, both political and religious, as far -as was possible for subjects. Their government is even too good for -them. Parliament passed "an act [in 1825] to provide for the -extinction of feudal and seigniorial rights and burdens on lands in -Lower Canada, and for the gradual conversion of those tenures into the -tenure of free and common socage," etc. But as late as 1831, at least, -the design of the act was likely to be frustrated, owing to the -reluctance of the seigniors and peasants. It has been observed by -another that the French Canadians do not extend nor perpetuate their -influence. The British, Irish, and other immigrants, who have settled -the townships, are found to have imitated the American settlers and -not the French. They reminded me in this of the Indians, whom they -were slow to displace, and to whose habits of life they themselves more -readily conformed than the Indians to theirs. The Governor-General -Denouville remarked, in 1685, that some had long thought that it was -necessary to bring the Indians near them in order to Frenchify -(_franciser_) them, but that they had every reason to think themselves -in an error; for those who had come near them and were even collected -in villages in the midst of the colony had not become French, but the -French who had haunted them had become savages. Kalm said, "Though -many nations imitate the French customs, yet I observed, on the -contrary, that the French in Canada, in many respects, follow the -customs of the Indians, with whom they converse every day. They make -use of the tobacco-pipes, shoes, garters, and girdles of the Indians. -They follow the Indian way of making war with exactness; they mix the -same things with tobacco [he might have said that both French and -English learned the use itself of this weed of the Indian]; they make -use of the Indian bark-boats, and row them in the Indian way; they -wrap square pieces of cloth round their feet instead of stockings; and -have adopted many other Indian fashions." Thus, while the descendants -of the Pilgrims are teaching the English to make pegged boots, the -descendants of the French in Canada are wearing the Indian moccasin -still. The French, to their credit be it said, to a certain extent -respected the Indians as a separate and independent people, and spoke -of them and contrasted themselves with them as the English have never -done. They not only went to war with them as allies, but they lived at -home with them as neighbors. In 1627 the French king declared "that -the descendants" of the French, settled in New France, "and the -savages who should be brought to the knowledge of the faith, and -should make profession of it, should be counted and reputed French -born (_Naturels Francois_); and as such could emigrate to France, when -it seemed good to them, and there acquire, will, inherit, etc., etc., -without obtaining letters of naturalization." When the English had -possession of Quebec, in 1630, the Indians, attempting to practice the -same familiarity with them that they had with the French, were driven -out of their houses with blows; which accident taught them a -difference between the two races, and attached them yet more to the -French. The impression made on me was that the French Canadians were -even sharing the fate of the Indians, or at least gradually -disappearing in what is called the Saxon current. - -The English did not come to America from a mere love of adventure, -nor to truck with or convert the savages, nor to hold offices under -the crown, as the French to a great extent did, but to live in earnest -and with freedom. The latter overran a great extent of country, -selling strong water, and collecting its furs, and converting its -inhabitants,--or at least baptizing its dying infants (_enfans -moribonds_),--without _improving_ it. First went the _coureur de bois_ -with the _eau de vie_; then followed, if he did not precede, the -heroic missionary with the _eau d'immortalite_. It was freedom to -hunt, and fish, and convert, not to work, that they sought. Hontan -says that the _coureurs de bois_ lived like sailors ashore. In no part -of the Seventeenth Century could the French be said to have had a -foothold in Canada; they held only by the fur of the wild animals -which they were exterminating. To enable the poor seigneurs to get -their living, it was permitted by a decree passed in the reign of -Louis the Fourteenth, in 1685, "to all nobles and gentlemen settled in -Canada, to engage in commerce, without being called to account or -reputed to have done anything derogatory." The reader can infer to -what extent they had engaged in agriculture, and how their farms must -have shone by this time. The New England youth, on the other hand, -were never _coureurs de bois_ nor _voyageurs_, but backwoodsmen and -sailors rather. Of all nations the English undoubtedly have proved -hitherto that they had the most business here. - -Yet I am not sure but I have most sympathy with that spirit of adventure -which distinguished the French and Spaniards of those days, and made -them especially the explorers of the American Continent,--which so -early carried the former to the Great Lakes and the Mississippi on the -north, and the latter to the same river on the south. It was long -before our frontiers reached their settlements in the West. So far as -inland discovery was concerned, the adventurous spirit of the English -was that of sailors who land but for a day, and their enterprise the -enterprise of traders. - -There was apparently a greater equality of condition among the -habitans of Montmorenci County than in New England. They are an almost -exclusively agricultural, and so far independent population, each -family producing nearly all the necessaries of life for itself. If the -Canadian wants energy, perchance he possesses those virtues, social -and others, which the Yankee lacks, in which case he cannot be -regarded as a poor man. - -FOOTNOTE: - -[2] From McCulloch's Geographical Dictionary we learn that -"immediately beyond the Island of Orleans it is a mile broad; where -the Saguenay joins it, eighteen miles; at Point Peter, upward of -thirty; at the Bay of Seven Islands, seventy miles; and at the Island -of Anticosti (above three hundred and fifty miles from Quebec), it -rolls a flood into the ocean nearly one hundred miles across." - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE WALLS OF QUEBEC - - -After spending the night at a farmhouse in Chateau Richer, about a -dozen miles northeast of Quebec, we set out on our return to the city. -We stopped at the next house, a picturesque old stone mill, over the -_Chipre_,--for so the name sounded,--such as you will nowhere see in -the States, and asked the millers the age of the mill. They went -upstairs to call the master; but the crabbed old miser asked why we -wanted to know, and would tell us only for some compensation. I wanted -French to give him a piece of my mind. I had got enough to talk on a -pinch, but not to quarrel, so I had to come away, looking all I would -have said. This was the utmost incivility we met with in Canada. In -Beauport, within a few miles of Quebec, we turned aside to look at a -church which was just being completed,--a very large and handsome -edifice of stone, with a green bough stuck in its gable, of some -significance to Catholics. The comparative wealth of the Church in -this country was apparent; for in this village we did not see one good -house besides. They were all humble cottages; and yet this appeared to -me a more imposing structure than any church in Boston. But I am no -judge of these things. - -Reentering Quebec through St. John's Gate, we took a caleche in Market -Square for the Falls of the Chaudiere, about nine miles southwest of -the city, for which we were to pay so much, besides forty sous for -tolls. The driver, as usual, spoke French only. The number of these -vehicles is very great for so small a town. They are like one of our -chaises that has lost its top, only stouter and longer in the body, -with a seat for the driver where the dasher is with us, and broad -leather ears on each side to protect the riders from the wheel and -keep children from falling out. They had an easy jaunting look, which, -as our hours were numbered, persuaded us to be riders. We met with -them on every road near Quebec these days, each with its complement of -two inquisitive-looking foreigners and a Canadian driver, the former -evidently enjoying their novel experience, for commonly it is only the -horse whose language you do not understand; but they were one remove -further from him by the intervention of an equally unintelligible -driver. We crossed the St. Lawrence to Point Levi in a French-Canadian -ferry-boat, which was inconvenient and dirty, and managed with great -noise and bustle. The current was very strong and tumultuous; and the -boat tossed enough to make some sick, though it was only a mile -across; yet the wind was not to be compared with that of the day -before, and we saw that the Canadians had a good excuse for not taking -us over to the Isle of Orleans in a pirogue, however shiftless they -may be for not having provided any other conveyance. The route which -we took to the Chaudiere did not afford us those views of Quebec which -we had expected, and the country and inhabitants appeared less -interesting to a traveler than those we had seen. The Falls of the -Chaudiere are three miles from its mouth on the south side of the St. -Lawrence. Though they were the largest which I saw in Canada, I was -not proportionately interested by them, probably from satiety. I did -not see any peculiar propriety in the name _Chaudiere_, or caldron. I -saw here the most brilliant rainbow that I ever imagined. It was just -across the stream below the precipice, formed on the mist which this -tremendous fall produced; and I stood on a level with the keystone of -its arch. It was not a few faint prismatic colors merely, but a full -semicircle, only four or five rods in diameter, though as wide as -usual, so intensely bright as to pain the eye, and apparently as -substantial as an arch of stone. It changed its position and colors as -we moved, and was the brighter because the sun shone so clearly and -the mist was so thick. Evidently a picture painted on mist for the men -and animals that came to the falls to look at; but for what special -purpose beyond this, I know not. At the farthest point in this ride, -and when most inland, unexpectedly at a turn in the road we descried -the frowning citadel of Quebec in the horizon, like the beak of a bird -of prey. We returned by the river road under the bank, which is very -high, abrupt, and rocky. When we were opposite to Quebec, I was -surprised to see that in the Lower Town, under the shadow of the rock, -the lamps were lit, twinkling not unlike crystals in a cavern, while -the citadel high above, and we, too, on the south shore, were in broad -daylight. As we were too late for the ferry-boat that night, we put up -at a _maison de pension_ at Point Levi. The usual two-story stove was -here placed against an opening in the partition shaped like a -fireplace, and so warmed several rooms. We could not understand their -French here very well, but the _potage_ was just like what we had had -before. There were many small chambers with doorways, but no doors. -The walls of our chamber, all around and overhead, were neatly ceiled, -and the timbers cased with wood unpainted. The pillows were checkered -and tasseled, and the usual long-pointed red woolen or worsted -nightcap was placed on each. I pulled mine out to see how it was made. -It was in the form of a double cone, one end tucked into the other; -just such, it appeared, as I saw men wearing all day in the streets. -Probably I should have put it on if the cold had been then, as it is -sometimes there, thirty or forty degrees below zero. - -When we landed at Quebec the next morning a man lay on his back on the -wharf, apparently dying, in the midst of a crowd and directly in the -path of the horses, groaning, "O ma conscience!" I thought that he -pronounced his French more distinctly than any I heard, as if the -dying had already acquired the accents of a universal language. Having -secured the only unengaged berths in the Lord Sydenham steamer, which -was to leave Quebec before sundown, and being resolved, now that I had -seen somewhat of the country, to get an idea of the city, I proceeded -to walk round the Upper Town, or fortified portion, which is two miles -and three quarters in circuit, alone, as near as I could get to the -cliff and the walls, like a rat looking for a hole; going round by the -southwest, where there is but a single street between the cliff and -the water, and up the long wooden stairs, through the suburbs -northward to the King's Woodyard, which I thought must have been a -long way from his fireplace, and under the cliffs of the St. Charles, -where the drains issue under the walls, and the walls are loopholed -for musketry; so returning by Mountain Street and Prescott Gate to the -Upper Town. Having found my way by an obscure passage near the St. -Louis Gate to the glacis on the north of the citadel proper,--I -believe that I was the only visitor then in the city who got in -there,--I enjoyed a prospect nearly as good as from within the citadel -itself, which I had explored some days before. As I walked on the -glacis I heard the sound of a bagpipe from the soldiers' dwellings in -the rock, and was further soothed and affected by the sight of a -soldier's cat walking up a cleated plank into a high loophole designed -for _mus-catry_, as serene as Wisdom herself, and with a gracefully -waving motion of her tail, as if her ways were ways of pleasantness -and all her paths were peace. Scaling a slat fence, where a small -force might have checked me, I got out of the esplanade into the -Governor's Garden, and read the well-known inscription on Wolfe and -Montcalm's monument, which for saying much in little, and that to the -purpose, undoubtedly deserved the prize medal which it received:-- - - MORTEM . VIRTUS . COMMUNEM . - FAMAM . HISTORIA . - MONUMENTUM . POSTERITAS . - DEDIT - -(Valor gave them one death, history one fame, posterity one monument.) -The Government Garden has for nosegays, amid kitchen vegetables, -beside the common garden flowers, the usual complement of cannon -directed toward some future and possible enemy. I then returned up St. -Louis Street to the esplanade and ramparts there, and went round the -Upper Town once more, though I was very tired, this time on the -_inside_ of the wall; for I knew that the wall was the main thing in -Quebec, and had cost a great deal of money, and therefore I must make -the most of it. In fact, these are the only remarkable walls we have -in North America, though we have a good deal of Virginia fence, it is -true. Moreover, I cannot say but I yielded in some measure to the -soldier instinct, and, having but a short time to spare, thought it -best to examine the wall thoroughly, that I might be the better -prepared if I should ever be called that way again in the service of -my country. I committed all the gates to memory, in their order, which -did not cost me so much trouble as it would have done at the -hundred-gated city, there being only five; nor were they so hard to -remember as those seven of Boeotian Thebes; and, moreover, I thought -that, if seven champions were enough against the latter, one would be -enough against Quebec, though he bore for all armor and device only an -umbrella and a bundle. I took the nunneries as I went, for I had -learned to distinguish them by the blinds; and I observed also the -foundling hospitals and the convents, and whatever was attached to, or -in the vicinity of the walls. All the rest I omitted, as naturally as -one would the inside of an inedible shell-fish. These were the only -pearls, and the wall the only mother-of-pearl for me. Quebec is -chiefly famous for the thickness of its parietal bones. The technical -terms of its conchology may stagger a beginner a little at first, such -as _banlieue_, _esplanade_, _glacis_, _ravelin_, _cavalier_, etc., -etc., but with the aid of a comprehensive dictionary you soon learn -the nature of your ground. I was surprised at the extent of the -artillery barracks, built so long ago,--_Casernes Nouvelles_, they -used to be called,--nearly six hundred feet in length by forty in -depth, where the sentries, like peripatetic philosophers, were so -absorbed in thought as not to notice me when I passed in and out at -the gates. Within are "small arms of every description, sufficient for -the equipment of twenty thousand men," so arranged as to give a -startling _coup d'oeil_ to strangers. I did not enter, not wishing -to get a black eye; for they are said to be "in a state of complete -repair and readiness for immediate use." Here, for a short time, I -lost sight of the wall, but I recovered it again on emerging from the -barrack yard. There I met with a Scotchman who appeared to have -business with the wall, like myself; and, being thus mutually drawn -together by a similarity of tastes, we had a little conversation _sub -moenibus_, that is, by an angle of the wall, which sheltered us. He -lived about thirty miles northwest of Quebec; had been nineteen years -in the country; said he was disappointed that he was not brought to -America after all, but found himself still under British rule and -where his own language was not spoken; that many Scotch, Irish, and -English were disappointed in like manner, and either went to the -States or pushed up the river to Canada West, nearer to the States, -and where their language was spoken. He talked of visiting the States -some time; and, as he seemed ignorant of geography, I warned him that -it was one thing to visit the State of Massachusetts, and another to -visit the State of California. He said it was colder there than usual -at that season, and he was lucky to have brought his thick togue, or -frock-coat, with him; thought it would snow, and then be pleasant and -warm. That is the way we are always thinking. However, his words were -music to me in my thin hat and sack. - -At the ramparts on the cliff near the old Parliament House I counted -twenty-four thirty-two-pounders in a row, pointed over the harbor, -with their balls piled pyramid-wise between them,--there are said to -be in all about one hundred and eighty guns mounted at Quebec,--all -which were faithfully kept dusted by officials, in accordance with the -motto, "In time of peace prepare for war;" but I saw no preparations -for peace: she was plainly an uninvited guest. - -Having thus completed the circuit of this fortress, both within and -without, I went no farther by the wall for fear that I should become -wall-eyed. However, I think that I deserve to be made a member of the -Royal Sappers and Miners. - -In short, I observed everywhere the most perfect arrangements for -keeping a wall in order, not even permitting the lichens to grow on -it, which some think an ornament; but then I saw no cultivation nor -pasturing within it to pay for the outlay, and cattle were strictly -forbidden to feed on the glacis under the severest penalties. Where -the dogs get their milk I don't know, and I fear it is bloody at best. - -The citadel of Quebec says, "I _will_ live here, and you shan't -prevent me." To which you return, that you have not the slightest -objection; live and let live. The Martello towers looked, for all the -world, exactly like abandoned windmills which had not had a grist to -grind these hundred years. Indeed, the whole castle here was a -"folly,"--England's folly,--and, in more senses than one, a castle in -the air. The inhabitants and the government are gradually waking up to -a sense of this truth; for I heard something said about their -abandoning the wall around the Upper Town, and confining the -fortifications to the citadel of forty acres. Of course they will -finally reduce their intrenchments to the circumference of their own -brave hearts. - -The most modern fortifications have an air of antiquity about them; -they have the aspect of ruins in better or worse repair from the day -they are built, because they are not really the work of this age. The -very place where the soldier resides has a peculiar tendency to become -old and dilapidated, as the word _barrack_ implies. I couple all -fortifications in my mind with the dismantled Spanish forts to be -found in so many parts of the world; and if in any place they are not -actually dismantled, it is because that there the intellect of the -inhabitants is dismantled. The commanding officer of an old fort near -Valdivia in South America, when a traveler remarked to him that, with -one discharge, his gun-carriages would certainly fall to pieces, -gravely replied, "No, I am sure, sir, they would stand two." Perhaps -the guns of Quebec would stand three. Such structures carry us back to -the Middle Ages, the siege of Jerusalem, and St. Jean d'Acre, and the -days of the Bucaniers. In the armory of the citadel they showed me a -clumsy implement, long since useless, which they called a Lombard gun. -I thought that their whole citadel was such a Lombard gun, fit object -for the museums of the curious. Such works do not consist with the -development of the intellect. Huge stone structures of all kinds, both -in their erection and by their influence when erected, rather oppress -than liberate the mind. They are tombs for the souls of men, as -frequently for their bodies also. The sentinel with his musket beside -a man with his umbrella is spectral. There is not sufficient reason -for his existence. Does my friend there, with a bullet resting on half -an ounce of powder, think that he needs that argument in conversing -with me? The fort was the first institution that was founded here, and -it is amusing to read in Champlain how assiduously they worked at it -almost from the first day of the settlement. The founders of the -colony thought this an excellent site for a wall,--and no doubt it was -a better site, in some respects, for a wall than for a city,--but it -chanced that a city got behind it. It chanced, too, that a Lower Town -got before it, and clung like an oyster to the outside of the crags, -as you may see at low tide. It is as if you were to come to a country -village surrounded by palisades in the old Indian fashion,--interesting -only as a relic of antiquity and barbarism. A fortified town is like a -man cased in the heavy armor of antiquity, with a horse-load of -broadswords and small arms slung to him, endeavoring to go about his -business. Or is this an indispensable machinery for the good -government of the country? The inhabitants of California succeed -pretty well, and are doing better and better every day, without any -such institution. What use has this fortress served, to look at it -even from the soldiers' point of view? At first the French took care -of it; yet Wolfe sailed by it with impunity, and took the town of -Quebec without experiencing any hindrance at last from its -fortifications. They were only the bone for which the parties fought. -Then the English began to take care of it. So of any fort in the -world,--that in Boston Harbor, for instance. We shall at length hear -that an enemy sailed by it in the night, for it cannot sail itself, -and both it and its inhabitants are always benighted. How often we -read that the enemy occupied a position which commanded the old, and -so the fort was evacuated! Have not the schoolhouse and the -printing-press occupied a position which commands such a fort as this? - -However, this is a ruin kept in remarkably good repair. There are some -eight hundred or thousand men there to exhibit it. One regiment goes -bare-legged to increase the attraction. If you wish to study the -muscles of the leg about the knee, repair to Quebec. This universal -exhibition in Canada of the tools and sinews of war reminded me of the -keeper of a menagerie showing his animals' claws. It was the English -leopard showing his claws. Always the royal something or other; as at -the menagerie, the Royal Bengal Tiger. Silliman states that "the cold -is so intense in the winter nights, particularly on Cape Diamond, that -the sentinels cannot stand it more than one hour, and are relieved at -the expiration of that time;" "and even, as it is said, at much -shorter intervals, in case of the most extreme cold." What a natural -or unnatural fool must that soldier be--to say nothing of his -government--who, when quicksilver is freezing and blood is ceasing to -be quick, will stand to have his face frozen, watching the walls of -Quebec, though, so far as they are concerned, both honest and -dishonest men all the world over have been in their beds nearly half a -century,--or at least for that space travelers have visited Quebec -only as they would read history! I shall never again wake up in a -colder night than usual, but I shall think how rapidly the sentinels -are relieving one another on the walls of Quebec, their quicksilver -being all frozen, as if apprehensive that some hostile Wolfe may even -then be scaling the Heights of Abraham, or some persevering Arnold -about to issue from the wilderness; some Malay or Japanese, perchance, -coming round by the northwest coast, have chosen that moment to -assault the citadel! Why, I should as soon expect to find the -sentinels still relieving one another on the walls of Nineveh, which -have so long been buried to the world. What a troublesome thing a wall -is! I thought it was to defend me, and not I it! Of course, if they -had no wall, they would not need to have any sentinels. - -You might venture to advertise this farm as well fenced with -substantial stone walls (saying nothing about the eight hundred -Highlanders and Royal Irish who are required to keep them from -toppling down); stock and tools to go with the land if desired. But it -would not be wise for the seller to exhibit his farm-book. - -Why should Canada, wild and unsettled as it is, impress us as an older -country than the States, unless because her institutions are old? All -things appeared to contend there, as I have implied, with a certain -rust of antiquity, such as forms on old armor and iron guns,--the rust -of conventions and formalities. It is said that the metallic roofs of -Montreal and Quebec keep sound and bright for forty years in some -cases. But if the rust was not on the tinned roofs and spires, it was -on the inhabitants and their institutions. Yet the work of burnishing -goes briskly forward. I imagined that the government vessels at the -wharves were laden with rottenstone and oxalic acid,--that is what the -first ship from England in the spring comes freighted with,--and the -hands of the Colonial legislature are cased in wash-leather. The -principal exports must be _gun_ny bags, verdigris, and iron rust. -Those who first built this fort, coming from Old France with the -memory and tradition of feudal days and customs weighing on them, were -unquestionably behind their age; and those who now inhabit and repair -it are behind their ancestors or predecessors. Those old chevaliers -thought that they could transplant the feudal system to America. It -has been set out, but it has not thriven. Notwithstanding that Canada -was settled first, and, unlike New England, for a long series of years -enjoyed the fostering care of the mother country; notwithstanding -that, as Charlevoix tells us, it had more of the ancient _noblesse_ -among its early settlers than any other of the French colonies, and -perhaps than all the others together, there are in both the Canadas -but 600,000 of French descent to-day,--about half so many as the -population of Massachusetts. The whole population of both Canadas is -but about 1,700,000 Canadians, English, Irish, Scotch, Indians, and -all, put together! Samuel Laing, in his essay on the Northmen, to -whom especially, rather than the Saxons, he refers the energy and -indeed the excellence of the English character, observes that, when -they occupied Scandinavia, "each man possessed his lot of land without -reference to, or acknowledgment of, any other man, without any local -chief to whom his military service or other quit-rent for his land was -due,--without tenure from, or duty or obligation to, any superior, -real or fictitious, except the general sovereign. The individual -settler held his land, as his descendants in Norway still express it, -by the same right as the King held his crown, by udal right, or -adel,--that is, noble right." The French have occupied Canada, not -_udally_, or by noble right, but _feudally_, or by ignoble right. They -are a nation of peasants. - -It was evident that, both on account of the feudal system and the -aristocratic government, a private man was not worth so much in Canada -as in the United States; and, if your wealth in any measure consists -in manliness, in originality and independence, you had better stay -here. How could a peaceable, freethinking man live neighbor to the -Forty-ninth Regiment? A New-Englander would naturally be a bad -citizen, probably a rebel, there,--certainly if he were already a -rebel at home. I suspect that a poor man who is not servile is a much -rarer phenomenon there and in England than in the Northern United -States. An Englishman, methinks,--not to speak of other European -nations,--habitually regards himself merely as a constituent part of -the English nation; he is a member of the royal regiment of -Englishmen, and is proud of his company, as he has reason to be proud -of it. But an American--one who has made a tolerable use of his -opportunities--cares, comparatively, little about such things, and is -advantageously nearer to the primitive and the ultimate condition of -man in these respects. It is a government, that English one,--like -most other European ones,--that cannot afford to be forgotten, as you -would naturally forget it; under which one cannot be wholesomely -neglected, and grow up a man and not an Englishman merely,--cannot be -a poet even without danger of being made poet-laureate! Give me a -country where it is the most natural thing in the world for a -government that does not understand you to let you alone. One would -say that a true Englishman could speculate only within bounds. (It is -true the Americans have proved that they, in more than one sense, can -_speculate_ without bounds.) He has to pay his respects to so many -things, that, before he knows it, he _may_ have paid away all he is -worth. What makes the United States government, on the whole, more -tolerable--I mean for us lucky white men--is the fact that there is so -much less of government with us. Here it is only once in a month or a -year that a man _needs_ remember that institution; and those who go to -Congress can play the game of the Kilkenny cats there without fatal -consequences to those who stay at home, their term is so short; but in -Canada you are reminded of the government every day. It parades itself -before you. It is not content to be the servant, but will be the -master; and every day it goes out to the Plains of Abraham or to the -Champ de Mars and exhibits itself and toots. Everywhere there appeared -an attempt to make and to preserve trivial and otherwise transient -distinctions. In the streets of Montreal and Quebec you met not only -with soldiers in red, and shuffling priests in unmistakable black and -white, with Sisters of Charity gone into mourning for their deceased -relative,--not to mention the nuns of various orders depending on the -fashion of a tear, of whom you heard,--but youths belonging to some -seminary or other, wearing coats edged with white, who looked as if -their expanding hearts were already repressed with a piece of tape. In -short, the inhabitants of Canada appeared to be suffering between two -fires,--the soldiery and the priesthood. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE SCENERY OF QUEBEC; AND THE RIVER ST. LAWRENCE - - -About twelve o'clock this day, being in the Lower Town, I looked up at -the signal-gun by the flagstaff on Cape Diamond, and saw a soldier up -in the heavens there making preparations to fire it,--both he and the -gun in bold relief against the sky. Soon after, being warned by the -boom of the gun to look up again, there was only the cannon in the -sky, the smoke just blowing away from it, as if the soldier, having -touched it off, had concealed himself for effect, leaving the sound to -echo grandly from shore to shore, and far up and down the river. This -answered the purpose of a dinner-horn. - -There are no such restaurants in Quebec or Montreal as there are in -Boston. I hunted an hour or two in vain in this town to find one, till -I lost my appetite. In one house, called a restaurant, where lunches -were advertised, I found only tables covered with bottles and glasses -innumerable, containing apparently a sample of every liquid that has -been known since the earth dried up after the flood, but no scent of -solid food did I perceive gross enough to excite a hungry mouse. In -short, I saw nothing to tempt me there, but a large map of Canada -against the wall. In another place I once more got as far as the -bottles, and then asked for a bill of fare; was told to walk up -stairs; had no bill of fare, nothing but fare. "Have you any pies or -puddings?" I inquired, for I am obliged to keep my savageness in check -by a low diet. "No, sir; we've nice mutton-chop, roast beef, -beefsteak, cutlets," and so on. A burly Englishman, who was in the -midst of the siege of a piece of roast beef, and of whom I have never -had a front view to this day, turned half round, with his mouth half -full, and remarked, "You'll find no pies nor puddings in Quebec, sir; -they don't make any here." I found that it was even so, and therefore -bought some musty cake and some fruit in the open market-place. This -market-place by the waterside, where the old women sat by their tables -in the open air, amid a dense crowd jabbering all languages, was the -best place in Quebec to observe the people; and the ferry-boats, -continually coming and going with their motley crews and cargoes, -added much to the entertainment. I also saw them getting water from -the river, for Quebec is supplied with water by cart and barrel. This -city impressed me as wholly foreign and French, for I scarcely heard -the sound of the English language in the streets. More than three -fifths of the inhabitants are of French origin; and if the traveler -did not visit the fortifications particularly, he might not be -reminded that the English have any foothold here; and, in any case, if -he looked no farther than Quebec, they would appear to have planted -themselves in Canada only as they have in Spain at Gibraltar; and he -who plants upon a rock cannot expect much increase. The novel sights -and sounds by the waterside made me think of such ports as Boulogne, -Dieppe, Rouen, and Havre-de-Grace, which I have never seen; but I -have no doubt that they present similar scenes. I was much amused from -first to last with the sounds made by the charette and caleche -drivers. It was that part of their foreign language that you heard the -most of,--the French they talked to their horses,--and which they -talked the loudest. It was a more novel sound to me than the French of -conversation. The streets resounded with the cries, "_Qui donc!_" -"_Marche tot!_" I suspect that many of our horses which came from -Canada would prick up their ears at these sounds. Of the shops, I was -most attracted by those where furs and Indian works were sold, as -containing articles of genuine Canadian manufacture. I have been told -that two townsmen of mine, who were interested in horticulture, -traveling once in Canada, and being in Quebec, thought it would be a -good opportunity to obtain seeds of the real Canada crookneck squash. -So they went into a shop where such things were advertised, and -inquired for the same. The shopkeeper had the very thing they wanted. -"But are you sure," they asked, "that these are the genuine Canada -crookneck?" "Oh, yes, gentlemen," answered he, "they are a lot which I -have received directly from Boston." I resolved that my Canada -crookneck seeds should be such as had grown in Canada. - -Too much has not been said about the scenery of Quebec. The -fortifications of Cape Diamond are omnipresent. They preside, they -frown over the river and surrounding country. You travel ten, twenty, -thirty miles up or down the river's banks, you ramble fifteen miles -amid the hills on either side, and then, when you have long since -forgotten them, perchance slept on them by the way, at a turn of the -road or of your body, there they are still, with their geometry -against the sky. The child that is born and brought up thirty miles -distant, and has never traveled to the city, reads his country's -history, sees the level lines of the citadel amid the cloud-built -citadels in the western horizon, and is told that that is Quebec. No -wonder if Jacques Cartier's pilot exclaimed in Norman French, "Que -bec!" (What a beak!) when he saw this cape, as some suppose. Every -modern traveler involuntarily uses a similar expression. Particularly -it is said that its sudden apparition on turning Point Levi makes a -memorable impression on him who arrives by water. The view from Cape -Diamond has been compared by European travelers with the most -remarkable views of a similar kind in Europe, such as from Edinburgh -Castle, Gibraltar, Cintra, and others, and preferred by many. A main -peculiarity in this, compared with other views which I have beheld, is -that it is from the ramparts of a fortified city, and not from a -solitary and majestic river cape alone, that this view is obtained. I -associate the beauty of Quebec with the steel-like and flashing air, -which may be peculiar to that season of the year, in which the blue -flowers of the succory and some late goldenrods and buttercups on the -summit of Cape Diamond were almost my only companions,--the former -bluer than the heavens they faced. Yet even I yielded in some degree -to the influence of historical associations, and found it hard to -attend to the geology of Cape Diamond or the botany of the Plains of -Abraham. I still remember the harbor far beneath me, sparkling like -silver in the sun, the answering highlands of Point Levi on the -southeast, the frowning Cap Tourmente abruptly bounding the seaward -view far in the northeast, the villages of Lorette and Charlesbourg on -the north, and, further west, the distant Val Cartier, sparkling with -white cottages, hardly removed by distance through the clear air,--not -to mention a few blue mountains along the horizon in that direction. -You look out from the ramparts of the citadel beyond the frontiers of -civilization. Yonder small group of hills, according to the -guide-book, forms "the portal of the wilds which are trodden only by -the feet of the Indian hunters as far as Hudson's Bay." It is but a -few years since Bouchette declared that the country ten leagues north -of the British capital of North America was as little known as the -middle of Africa. Thus the citadel under my feet, and all historical -associations, were swept away again by an influence from the wilds and -from Nature, as if the beholder had read her history,--an influence -which, like the Great River itself, flowed from the Arctic fastnesses -and Western forests with irresistible tide over all. - -The most interesting object in Canada to me was the River St. -Lawrence, known far and wide, and for centuries, as the Great River. -Cartier, its discoverer, sailed up it as far as Montreal in -1535,--nearly a century before the coming of the Pilgrims; and I have -seen a pretty accurate map of it so far, containing the city of -"Hochelaga" and the river "Saguenay," in Ortelius's _Theatrum Orbis -Terrarum_, printed at Antwerp in 1575,--the first edition having -appeared in 1570,--in which the famous cities of "Norumbega" and -"Orsinora" stand on the rough-blocked continent where New England is -to-day, and the fabulous but unfortunate Isle of Demons, and Frislant, -and others, lie off and on in the unfrequented sea, some of them -prowling near what is now the course of the Cunard steamers. In this -ponderous folio of the "Ptolemy of his age," said to be the first -general atlas published after the revival of the sciences in Europe, -only one page of which is devoted to the topography of the _Novus -Orbis_, the St. Lawrence is the only large river, whether drawn from -fancy or from observation, on the east side of North America. It was -famous in Europe before the other rivers of North America were heard -of, notwithstanding that the mouth of the Mississippi is said to have -been discovered first, and its stream was reached by Soto not long -after; but the St. Lawrence had attracted settlers to its cold shores -long before the Mississippi, or even the Hudson, was known to the -world. Schoolcraft was misled by Gallatin into saying that Narvaez -discovered the Mississippi. De Vega does _not_ say so. The first -explorers declared that the summer in that country was as warm as -France, and they named one of the bays in the Gulf of St. Lawrence the -Bay of Chaleur, or of warmth; but they said nothing about the winter -being as cold as Greenland. In the manuscript account of Cartier's -second voyage, attributed by some to that navigator himself, it is -called "the greatest river, without comparison, that is known to have -ever been seen." The savages told him that it was the "chemin du -Canada,"--the highway to Canada,--"which goes so far that no man had -ever been to the end that they had heard." The Saguenay, one of its -tributaries, which the panorama has made known to New England within -three years, is described by Cartier, in 1535, and still more -particularly by Jean Alphonse, in 1542, who adds, "I think that this -river comes from the sea of Cathay, for in this place there issues a -strong current, and there runs there a terrible tide." The early -explorers saw many whales and other sea-monsters far up the St. -Lawrence. Champlain, in his map, represents a whale spouting in the -harbor of Quebec, three hundred and sixty miles from what is called -the mouth of the river; and Charlevoix takes his reader to the summit -of Cape Diamond to see the "porpoises, white as snow," sporting on the -surface of the harbor of Quebec. And Boucher says in 1664, "from there -[Tadoussac] to Montreal is found a great quantity of _Marsouins -blancs_." Several whales have been taken pretty high up the river -since I was there. P. A. Gosse, in his "Canadian Naturalist," p. 171 -(London, 1840), speaks of "the white dolphin of the St. Lawrence -(_Delphinus Canadensis_)," as considered different from those of the -sea. "The Natural History Society of Montreal offered a prize, a few -years ago, for an essay on the _Cetacea_ of the St. Lawrence, which -was, I believe, handed in." In Champlain's day it was commonly called -"the Great River of Canada." More than one nation has claimed it. In -Ogilby's "America of 1670," in the map _Novi Belgii_, it is called "De -Groote River van Niew Nederlandt." It bears different names in -different parts of its course, as it flows through what were formerly -the territories of different nations. From the Gulf to Lake Ontario -it is called at present the St. Lawrence; from Montreal to the same -place it is frequently called the Cateraqui; and higher up it is known -successively as the Niagara, Detroit, St. Clair, St. Mary's, and St. -Louis rivers. Humboldt, speaking of the Orinoco, says that this name -is unknown in the interior of the country; so likewise the tribes that -dwell about the sources of the St. Lawrence have never heard the name -which it bears in the lower part of its course. It rises near another -father of waters,--the Mississippi,--issuing from a remarkable spring -far up in the woods, called Lake Superior, fifteen hundred miles in -circumference; and several other springs there are thereabouts which -feed it. It makes such a noise in its tumbling down at one place as is -heard all round the world. Bouchette, the Surveyor-General of the -Canadas, calls it "the most splendid river on the globe;" says that it -is two thousand statute miles long (more recent geographers make it -four or five hundred miles longer); that at the Riviere du Sud it is -eleven miles wide; at the Traverse, thirteen; at the Paps of Matane, -twenty-five; at the Seven Islands, seventy-three; and at its mouth, -from Cape Rosier to the Mingan Settlements in Labrador, near one -hundred and five (?) miles wide. According to Captain Bayfield's -recent chart it is about _ninety-six_ geographical miles wide at the -latter place, measuring at right angles with the stream. It has much -the largest estuary, regarding both length and breadth, of any river -on the globe. Humboldt says that the River Plate, which has the -broadest estuary of the South American rivers, is ninety-two -geographical miles wide at its mouth; also he found the Orinoco to be -more than three miles wide at five hundred and sixty miles from its -mouth; but he does not tell us that ships of six hundred tons can sail -up it so far, as they can up the St. Lawrence to Montreal,--an equal -distance. If he had described a fleet of such ships at anchor in a -city's port so far inland, we should have got a very different idea of -the Orinoco. Perhaps Charlevoix describes the St. Lawrence truly as -the most _navigable_ river in the world. Between Montreal and Quebec -it averages about two miles wide. The tide is felt as far up as Three -Rivers, four hundred and thirty-two miles, which is as far as from -Boston to Washington. As far up as Cap aux Oyes, sixty or seventy -miles below Quebec, Kalm found a great part of the plants near the -shore to be marine, as glasswort (_Salicornia_), seaside pease (_Pisum -maritimum_), sea-milkwort (_Glaux_), beach-grass (_Psamma arenaria_), -seaside plantain (_Plantago maritima_), the sea-rocket (_Bunias -cakile_), etc. - -The geographer Guyot observes that the Maranon is three thousand miles -long, and gathers its waters from a surface of a million and a half -square miles; that the Mississippi is also three thousand miles long, -but its basin covers only from eight to nine hundred thousand square -miles; that the St. Lawrence is eighteen hundred miles long, and its -basin covers more than a million square miles (Darby says five hundred -thousand); and speaking of the lakes, he adds, "These vast fresh-water -seas, together with the St. Lawrence, cover a surface of nearly one -hundred thousand square miles, and it has been calculated that they -contain about one half of all the fresh water on the surface of our -planet." But all these calculations are necessarily very rude and -inaccurate. Its tributaries, the Ottawa, St. Maurice, and Saguenay, -are great rivers themselves. The latter is said to be more than one -thousand (?) feet deep at its mouth, while its cliffs rise -perpendicularly an equal distance above its surface. Pilots say there -are no soundings till one hundred and fifty miles up the St. Lawrence. -The greatest sounding in the river, given on Bayfield's chart of the -gulf and river, is two hundred and twenty-eight fathoms. McTaggart, an -engineer, observes that "the Ottawa is larger than all the rivers in -Great Britain, were they running in one." The traveler Grey writes: "A -dozen Danubes, Rhines, Taguses, and Thameses would be nothing to -twenty miles of fresh water in breadth [as where he happened to be], -from ten to forty fathoms in depth." And again: "There is not perhaps -in the whole extent of this immense continent so fine an approach to -it as by the river St. Lawrence. In the Southern States you have, in -general, a level country for many miles inland; here you are -introduced at once into a majestic scenery, where everything is on a -grand scale,--mountains, woods, lakes, rivers, precipices, -waterfalls." - -We have not yet the data for a minute comparison of the St. Lawrence -with the South American rivers; but it is obvious that, taking it in -connection with its lakes, its estuary, and its falls, it easily bears -off the palm from all the rivers on the globe; for though, as -Bouchette observes, it may not carry to the ocean a greater volume of -water than the Amazon and Mississippi, its surface and cubic mass are -far greater than theirs. But, unfortunately, this noble river is -closed by ice from the beginning of December to the middle of April. -The arrival of the first vessel from England when the ice breaks up -is, therefore, a great event, as when the salmon, shad, and alewives -come up a river in the spring to relieve the famishing inhabitants on -its banks. Who can say what would have been the history of this -continent if, as has been suggested, this river had emptied into the -sea where New York stands! - -After visiting the Museum and taking one more look at the wall, I made -haste to the Lord Sydenham steamer, which at five o'clock was to leave -for Montreal. I had already taken a seat on deck, but finding that I -had still an hour and a half to spare, and remembering that large map -of Canada which I had seen in the parlor of the restaurant in my -search after pudding, and realizing that I might never see the like -out of the country, I returned thither, asked liberty to look at the -map, rolled up the mahogany table, put my handkerchief on it, stood on -it, and copied all I wanted before the maid came in and said to me -standing on the table, "Some gentlemen want the room, sir;" and I -retreated without having broken the neck of a single bottle, or my -own, very thankful and willing to pay for all the solid food I had -got. We were soon abreast of Cap Rouge, eight miles above Quebec, -after we got under weigh. It was in this place, then called _Fort du -France Roy_, that the Sieur de Roberval with his company, having sent -home two of his three ships, spent the winter of 1542-43. It appears -that they fared in the following manner (I translate from the -original): "Each mess had only two loaves, weighing each a pound, and -half a pound of beef. They ate pork for dinner, with half a pound of -butter, and beef for supper, with about two handfuls of beans without -butter. Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays they ate salted cod, and -sometimes green, for dinner, with butter; and porpoise and beans for -supper. Monsieur Roberval administered good justice, and punished each -according to his offense. One, named Michel Gaillon, was hung for -theft; John of Nantes was put in irons and imprisoned for his fault; -and others were likewise put in irons; and many were whipped, both men -and women; by which means they lived in peace and tranquillity." In an -account of a voyage up this river, printed in the Jesuit Relations in -the year 1664, it is said: "It was an interesting navigation for us in -ascending the river from Cap Tourmente to Quebec, to see on this side -and on that, for the space of eight leagues, the farms and the houses -of the company, built by our French, all along these shores. On the -right, the seigniories of Beauport, of Notre Dame des Anges; and on -the left, this beautiful Isle of Orleans." The same traveler names -among the fruits of the country observed at the Isles of Richelieu, at -the head of Lake St. Peter, "kinds (_des especes_) of little apples or -haws (_senelles_), and of pears, which only ripen with the frost." - -Night came on before we had passed the high banks. We had come from -Montreal to Quebec in one night. The return voyage, against the -stream, takes but an hour longer. Jacques Cartier, the first white man -who is known to have ascended this river, thus speaks of his voyage -from what is now Quebec to the foot of Lake St. Peter, or about -half-way to Montreal: "From the said day, the 19th, even to the 28th -of the said month [September, 1535], we had been navigating up the -said river without losing hour or day, during which time we had seen -and found as much country and lands as level as we could desire, full -of the most beautiful trees in the world," which he goes on to -describe. But we merely slept and woke again to find that we had -passed through all that country which he was eight days in sailing -through. He must have had a troubled sleep. We were not long enough on -the river to realize that it had length; we got only the impression of -its breadth, as if we had passed over a lake a mile or two in breadth -and several miles long, though we might thus have slept through a -European kingdom. Being at the head of Lake St. Peter, on the -above-mentioned 28th of September, dealing with the natives, Cartier -says: "We inquired of them by signs if this was the route to Hochelaga -[Montreal]; and they answered that it was, and that there were yet -three days' journeys to go there." He finally arrived at Hochelaga on -the 2d of October. - -When I went on deck at dawn we had already passed through Lake St. -Peter, and saw islands ahead of us. Our boat advancing with a strong -and steady pulse over the calm surface, we felt as if we were -permitted to be awake in the scenery of a dream. Many vivacious -Lombardy poplars along the distant shores gave them a novel and -lively, though artificial, look, and contrasted strangely with the -slender and graceful elms on both shores and islands. The church of -Varennes, fifteen miles from Montreal, was conspicuous at a great -distance before us, appearing to belong to, and rise out of, the -river; and now, and before, Mount Royal indicated where the city was. -We arrived about seven o'clock, and set forth immediately to ascend -the mountain, two miles distant, going across lots in spite of -numerous signs threatening the severest penalties to trespassers, past -an old building known as the MacTavish property,--Simon MacTavish, I -suppose, whom Silliman refers to as "in a sense the founder of the -Northwestern Company." His tomb was behind in the woods, with a -remarkably high wall and higher monument. The family returned to -Europe. He could not have imagined how dead he would be in a few -years, and all the more dead and forgotten for being buried under such -a mass of gloomy stone, where not even memory could get at him without -a crowbar. Ah! poor man, with that last end of his! However, he may -have been the worthiest of mortals for aught that I know. From the -mountain-top we got a view of the whole city; the flat, fertile, -extensive island; the noble sea of the St. Lawrence swelling into -lakes; the mountains about St. Hyacinthe, and in Vermont and New York; -and the mouth of the Ottawa in the west, overlooking that St. Anne's -where the voyageur sings his "parting hymn," and bids adieu to -civilization,--a name, thanks to Moore's verses, the most suggestive -of poetic associations of any in Canada. We, too, climbed the hill -which Cartier, first of white men, ascended, and named Mont-real (the -3d of October, O. S., 1535), and, like him, "we saw the said river as -far as we could see, _grand_, _large_, _et spacieux_, going to -the southwest," toward that land whither Donnacona had told the -discoverer that he had been a month's journey from Canada, where there -grew "_force Canelle et Girofle_," much cinnamon and cloves, and where -also, as the natives told him, were three great lakes and afterward -_une mer douce_,--a sweet sea,--_de laquelle n'est mention avoir vu le -bout_, of which there is no mention to have seen the end. But instead -of an Indian town far in the interior of a new world, with guides to -show us where the river came from, we found a splendid and bustling -stone-built city of white men, and only a few squalid Indians offered -to sell us baskets at the Lachine Railroad Depot, and Hochelaga is, -perchance, but the fancy name of an engine company or an eating-house. - - [Illustration: _Montreal from Mount Royal_] - -We left Montreal Wednesday, the 2d of October, late in the afternoon. -In the La Prairie cars the Yankees made themselves merry, imitating -the cries of the charette-drivers to perfection, greatly to the -amusement of some French-Canadian travelers, and they kept it up all -the way to Boston. I saw one person on board the boat at St. Johns, -and one or two more elsewhere in Canada, wearing homespun gray -greatcoats, or capotes, with conical and comical hoods, which fell -back between their shoulders like small bags, ready to be turned up -over the head when occasion required, though a hat usurped that place -now. They looked as if they would be convenient and proper enough as -long as the coats were new and tidy, but would soon come to have a -beggarly and unsightly look, akin to rags and dust-holes. We reached -Burlington early in the morning, where the Yankees tried to pass off -their Canada coppers, but the newsboys knew better. Returning through -the Green Mountains, I was reminded that I had not seen in Canada such -brilliant autumnal tints as I had previously seen in Vermont. Perhaps -there was not yet so great and sudden a contrast with the summer heats -in the former country as in these mountain valleys. As we were passing -through Ashburnham, by a new white house which stood at some distance -in a field, one passenger exclaimed, so that all in the car could hear -him, "There, there's not so good a house as that in all Canada!" I did -not much wonder at his remark, for there is a neatness, as well as -evident prosperity, a certain elastic easiness of circumstances, so to -speak, when not rich, about a New England house, as if the proprietor -could at least afford to make repairs in the spring, which the -Canadian houses do not suggest. Though of stone, they are no better -constructed than a stone barn would be with us; the only building, -except the chateau, on which money and taste are expended, being the -church. In Canada an ordinary New England house would be mistaken for -the chateau, and while every village here contains at least several -gentlemen or "squires," _there_ there is but one to a seigniory. - -I got home this Thursday evening, having spent just one week in Canada -and traveled eleven hundred miles. The whole expense of this journey, -including two guide-books and a map, which cost one dollar twelve and -a half cents, was twelve dollars seventy-five cents. I do not suppose -that I have seen all British America; that could not be done by a -cheap excursion, unless it were a cheap excursion to the Icy Sea, as -seen by Hearne or Mackenzie, and then, no doubt, some interesting -features would be omitted. I wished to go a little way behind the word -_Canadense_, of which naturalists make such frequent use; and I should -like still right well to make a longer excursion on foot through the -wilder parts of Canada, which perhaps might be called _Iter -Canadense_. - - - - -NATURAL HISTORY OF MASSACHUSETTS[3] - - -Books of natural history make the most cheerful winter reading. I read -in Audubon with a thrill of delight, when the snow covers the ground, -of the magnolia, and the Florida keys, and their warm sea-breezes; of -the fence-rail, and the cotton-tree, and the migrations of the -rice-bird; of the breaking up of winter in Labrador, and the melting -of the snow on the forks of the Missouri; and owe an accession of -health to these reminiscences of luxuriant nature. - - Within the circuit of this plodding life, - There enter moments of an azure hue, - Untarnished fair as is the violet - Or anemone, when the spring strews them - By some meandering rivulet, which make - The best philosophy untrue that aims - But to console man for his grievances. - I have remembered, when the winter came, - High in my chamber in the frosty nights, - When in the still light of the cheerful moon, - On every twig and rail and jutting spout, - The icy spears were adding to their length - Against the arrows of the coming sun, - How in the shimmering noon of summer past - Some unrecorded beam slanted across - The upland pastures where the Johnswort grew; - Or heard, amid the verdure of my mind, - The bee's long smothered hum, on the blue flag - Loitering amidst the mead; or busy rill, - Which now through all its course stands still and dumb, - Its own memorial,--purling at its play - Along the slopes, and through the meadows next, - Until its youthful sound was hushed at last - In the staid current of the lowland stream; - Or seen the furrows shine but late upturned, - And where the fieldfare followed in the rear, - When all the fields around lay bound and hoar - Beneath a thick integument of snow. - So by God's cheap economy made rich - To go upon my winter's task again. - -I am singularly refreshed in winter when I hear of service-berries, -poke-weed, juniper. Is not heaven made up of these cheap summer -glories? There is a singular health in those words, Labrador and East -Main, which no desponding creed recognizes. How much more than Federal -are these States! If there were no other vicissitudes than the -seasons, our interest would never tire. Much more is adoing than -Congress wots of. What journal do the persimmon and the buckeye keep, -and the sharp-shinned hawk? What is transpiring from summer to winter -in the Carolinas, and the Great Pine Forest, and the Valley of the -Mohawk? The merely political aspect of the land is never very -cheering; men are degraded when considered as the members of a -political organization. On this side all lands present only the -symptoms of decay. I see but Bunker Hill and Sing-Sing, the District -of Columbia and Sullivan's Island, with a few avenues connecting them. -But paltry are they all beside one blast of the east or the south wind -which blows over them. - -In society you will not find health, but in nature. Unless our feet at -least stood in the midst of nature, all our faces would be pale and -livid. Society is always diseased, and the best is the most so. There -is no scent in it so wholesome as that of the pines, nor any fragrance -so penetrating and restorative as the life-everlasting in high -pastures. I would keep some book of natural history always by me as a -sort of elixir, the reading of which should restore the tone of the -system. To the sick, indeed, nature is sick, but to the well, a -fountain of health. To him who contemplates a trait of natural beauty -no harm nor disappointment can come. The doctrines of despair, of -spiritual or political tyranny or servitude, were never taught by such -as shared the serenity of nature. Surely good courage will not flag -here on the Atlantic border, as long as we are flanked by the Fur -Countries. There is enough in that sound to cheer one under any -circumstances. The spruce, the hemlock, and the pine will not -countenance despair. Methinks some creeds in vestries and churches do -forget the hunter wrapped in furs by the Great Slave Lake, and that -the Esquimaux sledges are drawn by dogs, and in the twilight of the -northern night the hunter does not give over to follow the seal and -walrus on the ice. They are of sick and diseased imaginations who -would toll the world's knell so soon. Cannot these sedentary sects do -better than prepare the shrouds and write the epitaphs of those other -busy living men? The practical faith of all men belies the preacher's -consolation. What is any man's discourse to me, if I am not sensible -of something in it as steady and cheery as the creak of crickets? In -it the woods must be relieved against the sky. Men tire me when I am -not constantly greeted and refreshed as by the flux of sparkling -streams. Surely joy is the condition of life. Think of the young fry -that leap in ponds, the myriads of insects ushered into being on a -summer evening, the incessant note of the hyla with which the woods -ring in the spring, the nonchalance of the butterfly carrying accident -and change painted in a thousand hues upon its wings, or the brook -minnow stoutly stemming the current, the lustre of whose scales, worn -bright by the attrition, is reflected upon the bank! - -We fancy that this din of religion, literature, and philosophy, which -is heard in pulpits, lyceums, and parlors, vibrates through the -universe, and is as catholic a sound as the creaking of the earth's -axle; but if a man sleep soundly, he will forget it all between sunset -and dawn. It is the three-inch swing of a pendulum in a cupboard, -which the great pulse of nature vibrates by and through each instant. -When we lift our eyelids and open our ears, it disappears with smoke -and rattle like the cars on a railroad. When I detect a beauty in any -of the recesses of nature, I am reminded, by the serene and retired -spirit in which it requires to be contemplated, of the inexpressible -privacy of a life,--how silent and unambitious it is. The beauty there -is in mosses must be considered from the holiest, quietest nook. What -an admirable training is science for the more active warfare of life! -Indeed, the unchallenged bravery which these studies imply, is far -more impressive than the trumpeted valor of the warrior. I am pleased -to learn that Thales was up and stirring by night not unfrequently, -as his astronomical discoveries prove. Linnaeus, setting out for -Lapland, surveys his "comb" and "spare shirt," "leathern breeches" and -"gauze cap to keep off gnats," with as much complacency as Bonaparte a -park of artillery for the Russian campaign. The quiet bravery of the -man is admirable. His eye is to take in fish, flower, and bird, -quadruped and biped. Science is always brave; for to know is to know -good; doubt and danger quail before her eye. What the coward overlooks -in his hurry, she calmly scrutinizes, breaking ground like a pioneer -for the array of arts that follow in her train. But cowardice is -unscientific; for there cannot be a science of ignorance. There may be -a science of bravery, for that advances; but a retreat is rarely well -conducted; if it is, then is it an orderly advance in the face of -circumstances. - -But to draw a little nearer to our promised topics. Entomology extends -the limits of being in a new direction, so that I walk in nature with -a sense of greater space and freedom. It suggests besides, that the -universe is not rough-hewn, but perfect in its details. Nature will -bear the closest inspection; she invites us to lay our eye level with -the smallest leaf, and take an insect view of its plain. She has no -interstices; every part is full of life. I explore, too, with -pleasure, the sources of the myriad sounds which crowd the summer -noon, and which seem the very grain and stuff of which eternity is -made. Who does not remember the shrill roll-call of the harvest-fly? -There were ears for these sounds in Greece long ago, as Anacreon's ode -will show. - - "We pronounce thee happy, Cicada, - For on the tops of the trees, - Drinking a little dew, - Like any king thou singest, - For thine are they all, - Whatever thou seest in the fields, - And whatever the woods bear. - Thou art the friend of the husbandmen, - In no respect injuring any one; - And thou art honored among men, - Sweet prophet of summer. - The Muses love thee, - And Phoebus himself loves thee, - And has given thee a shrill song; - Age does not wrack thee, - Thou skillful, earthborn, song-loving, - Unsuffering, bloodless one; - Almost thou art like the gods." - -In the autumn days, the creaking of crickets is heard at noon over all -the land, and as in summer they are heard chiefly at nightfall, so -then by their incessant chirp they usher in the evening of the year. -Nor can all the vanities that vex the world alter one whit the measure -that night has chosen. Every pulse-beat is in exact time with the -cricket's chant and the tickings of the deathwatch in the wall. -Alternate with these if you can. - -About two hundred and eighty birds either reside permanently in the -State, or spend the summer only, or make us a passing visit. Those -which spend the winter with us have obtained our warmest sympathy. The -nuthatch and chickadee flitting in company through the dells of the -wood, the one harshly scolding at the intruder, the other with a faint -lisping note enticing him on; the jay screaming in the orchard; the -crow cawing in unison with the storm; the partridge, like a russet -link extended over from autumn to spring, preserving unbroken the -chain of summers; the hawk with warrior-like firmness abiding the -blasts of winter; the robin[4] and lark lurking by warm springs in the -woods; the familiar snowbird culling a few seeds in the garden or a -few crumbs in the yard; and occasionally the shrike, with heedless and -unfrozen melody bringing back summer again:-- - - His steady sails he never furls - At any time o' year, - And perching now on Winter's curls, - He whistles in his ear. - -As the spring advances, and the ice is melting in the river, our -earliest and straggling visitors make their appearance. Again does the -old Teian poet sing as well for New England as for Greece, in the - -RETURN OF SPRING - - Behold, how, Spring appearing, - The Graces send forth roses; - Behold, how the wave of the sea - Is made smooth by the calm; - Behold, how the duck dives; - Behold, how the crane travels; - And Titan shines constantly bright. - The shadows of the clouds are moving; - The works of man shine; - The earth puts forth fruits; - The fruit of the olive puts forth. - The cup of Bacchus is crowned, - Along the leaves, along the branches, - The fruit, bending them down, flourishes. - -The ducks alight at this season in the still water, in company with -the gulls, which do not fail to improve an east wind to visit our -meadows, and swim about by twos and threes, pluming themselves, and -diving to peck at the root of the lily, and the cranberries which the -frost has not loosened. The first flock of geese is seen beating to -north, in long harrows and waving lines; the jingle of the song -sparrow salutes us from the shrubs and fences; the plaintive note of -the lark comes clear and sweet from the meadow; and the bluebird, like -an azure ray, glances past us in our walk. The fish hawk, too, is -occasionally seen at this season sailing majestically over the water, -and he who has once observed it will not soon forget the majesty of -its flight. It sails the air like a ship of the line, worthy to -struggle with the elements, falling back from time to time like a ship -on its beam ends, and holding its talons up as if ready for the -arrows, in the attitude of the national bird. It is a great presence, -as of the master of river and forest. Its eye would not quail before -the owner of the soil, but make him feel like an intruder on its -domains. And then its retreat, sailing so steadily away, is a kind of -advance. I have by me one of a pair of ospreys, which have for some -years fished in this vicinity, shot by a neighboring pond, measuring -more than two feet in length, and six in the stretch of its wings. -Nuttall mentions that "the ancients, particularly Aristotle, pretended -that the ospreys taught their young to gaze at the sun, and those who -were unable to do so were destroyed. Linnaeus even believed, on ancient -authority, that one of the feet of this bird had all the toes divided, -while the other was partly webbed, so that it could swim with one -foot, and grasp a fish with the other." But that educated eye is now -dim, and those talons are nerveless. Its shrill scream seems yet to -linger in its throat, and the roar of the sea in its wings. There is -the tyranny of Jove in its claws, and his wrath in the erectile -feathers of the head and neck. It reminds me of the Argonautic -expedition, and would inspire the dullest to take flight over -Parnassus. - -The booming of the bittern, described by Goldsmith and Nuttall, is -frequently heard in our fens, in the morning and evening, sounding -like a pump, or the chopping of wood in a frosty morning in some -distant farm-yard. The manner in which this sound is produced I have -not seen anywhere described. On one occasion, the bird has been seen -by one of my neighbors to thrust its bill into the water, and suck up -as much as it could hold, then, raising its head, it pumped it out -again with four or five heaves of the neck, throwing it two or three -feet, and making the sound each time. - -At length the summer's eternity is ushered in by the cackle of the -flicker among the oaks on the hillside, and a new dynasty begins with -calm security. - -In May and June the woodland quire is in full tune, and, given the -immense spaces of hollow air, and this curious human ear, one does -not see how the void could be better filled. - - Each summer sound - Is a summer round. - -As the season advances, and those birds which make us but a passing -visit depart, the woods become silent again, and but few feathers -ruffle the drowsy air. But the solitary rambler may still find a -response and expression for every mood in the depths of the wood. - - Sometimes I hear the veery's[5] clarion, - Or brazen trump of the impatient jay, - And in secluded woods the chickadee - Doles out her scanty notes, which sing the praise - Of heroes, and set forth the loveliness - Of virtue evermore. - -The phoebe still sings in harmony with the sultry weather by the -brink of the pond, nor are the desultory hours of noon in the midst of -the village without their minstrel. - - Upon the lofty elm-tree sprays - The vireo rings the changes sweet, - During the trivial summer days, - Striving to lift our thoughts above the street. - -With the autumn begins in some measure a new spring. The plover is -heard whistling high in the air over the dry pastures, the finches -flit from tree to tree, the bobolinks and flickers fly in flocks, and -the goldfinch rides on the earliest blast, like a winged hyla peeping -amid the rustle of the leaves. The crows, too, begin now to -congregate; you may stand and count them as they fly low and -straggling over the landscape, singly or by twos and threes, at -intervals of half a mile, until a hundred have passed. - -I have seen it suggested somewhere that the crow was brought to this -country by the white man; but I shall as soon believe that the white -man planted these pines and hemlocks. He is no spaniel to follow our -steps; but rather flits about the clearings like the dusky spirit of -the Indian, reminding me oftener of Philip and Powhatan than of -Winthrop and Smith. He is a relic of the dark ages. By just so slight, -by just so lasting a tenure does superstition hold the world ever; -there is the rook in England, and the crow in New England. - - Thou dusky spirit of the wood, - Bird of an ancient brood, - Flitting thy lonely way, - A meteor in the summer's day, - From wood to wood, from hill to hill, - Low over forest, field, and rill, - What wouldst thou say? - Why shouldst thou haunt the day? - What makes thy melancholy float? - What bravery inspires thy throat, - And bears thee up above the clouds, - Over desponding human crowds, - Which far below - Lay thy haunts low? - -The late walker or sailor, in the October evenings, may hear the -murmurings of the snipe, circling over the meadows, the most -spirit-like sound in nature; and still later in the autumn, when the -frosts have tinged the leaves, a solitary loon pays a visit to our -retired ponds, where he may lurk undisturbed till the season of -moulting is passed, making the woods ring with his wild laughter. This -bird, the Great Northern Diver, well deserves its name; for when -pursued with a boat, it will dive, and swim like a fish under water, -for sixty rods or more, as fast as a boat can be paddled, and its -pursuer, if he would discover his game again, must put his ear to the -surface to hear where it comes up. When it comes to the surface, it -throws the water off with one shake of its wings, and calmly swims -about until again disturbed. - -These are the sights and sounds which reach our senses oftenest during -the year. But sometimes one hears a quite new note, which has for -background other Carolinas and Mexicos than the books describe, and -learns that his ornithology has done him no service. - -It appears from the Report that there are about forty quadrupeds -belonging to the State, and among these one is glad to hear of a few -bears, wolves, lynxes, and wildcats. - -When our river overflows its banks in the spring, the wind from the -meadows is laden with a strong scent of musk, and by its freshness -advertises me of an unexplored wildness. Those backwoods are not far -off then. I am affected by the sight of the cabins of the muskrat, -made of mud and grass, and raised three or four feet along the river, -as when I read of the barrows of Asia. The muskrat is the beaver of -the settled States. Their number has even increased within a few -years in this vicinity. Among the rivers which empty into the -Merrimack, the Concord is known to the boatmen as a dead stream. The -Indians are said to have called it Musketaquid, or Prairie River. Its -current being much more sluggish and its water more muddy than the -rest, it abounds more in fish and game of every kind. According to the -History of the town, "The fur-trade was here once very important. As -early as 1641, a company was formed in the colony, of which Major -Willard of Concord was superintendent, and had the exclusive right to -trade with the Indians in furs and other articles; and for this right -they were obliged to pay into the public treasury one twentieth of all -the furs they obtained." There are trappers in our midst still, as -well as on the streams of the far West, who night and morning go the -round of their traps, without fear of the Indian. One of these takes -from one hundred and fifty to two hundred muskrats in a year, and even -thirty-six have been shot by one man in a day. Their fur, which is not -nearly as valuable as formerly, is in good condition in the winter and -spring only; and upon the breaking up of the ice, when they are driven -out of their holes by the water, the greatest number is shot from -boats, either swimming or resting on their stools, or slight supports -of grass and reeds, by the side of the stream. Though they exhibit -considerable cunning at other times, they are easily taken in a trap, -which has only to be placed in their holes, or wherever they frequent, -without any bait being used, though it is sometimes rubbed with their -musk. In the winter the hunter cuts holes in the ice, and shoots them -when they come to the surface. Their burrows are usually in the high -banks of the river, with the entrance under water, and rising within -to above the level of high water. Sometimes their nests, composed of -dried meadow-grass and flags, may be discovered where the bank is low -and spongy, by the yielding of the ground under the feet. They have -from three to seven or eight young in the spring. - -Frequently, in the morning or evening, a long ripple is seen in the -still water, where a muskrat is crossing the stream, with only its -nose above the surface, and sometimes a green bough in its mouth to -build its house with. When it finds itself observed, it will dive and -swim five or six rods under water, and at length conceal itself in its -hole, or the weeds. It will remain under water for ten minutes at a -time, and on one occasion has been seen, when undisturbed, to form an -air-bubble under the ice, which contracted and expanded as it breathed -at leisure. When it suspects danger on shore, it will stand erect like -a squirrel, and survey its neighborhood for several minutes, without -moving. - -In the fall, if a meadow intervene between their burrows and the -stream, they erect cabins of mud and grass, three or four feet high, -near its edge. These are not their breeding-places, though young are -sometimes found in them in late freshets, but rather their -hunting-lodges, to which they resort in the winter with their food, -and for shelter. Their food consists chiefly of flags and fresh-water -mussels, the shells of the latter being left in large quantities -around their lodges in the spring. - -The Penobscot Indian wears the entire skin of a muskrat, with the -legs and tail dangling, and the head caught under his girdle, for a -pouch, into which he puts his fishing-tackle, and essences to scent -his traps with. - -The bear, wolf, lynx, wildcat, deer, beaver, and marten have -disappeared; the otter is rarely if ever seen here at present; and the -mink is less common than formerly. - -Perhaps of all our untamed quadrupeds, the fox has obtained the widest -and most familiar reputation, from the time of Pilpay and Aesop to the -present day. His recent tracks still give variety to a winter's walk. -I tread in the steps of the fox that has gone before me by some hours, -or which perhaps I have started, with such a tiptoe of expectation as -if I were on the trail of the Spirit itself which resides in the wood, -and expected soon to catch it in its lair. I am curious to know what -has determined its graceful curvatures, and how surely they were -coincident with the fluctuations of some mind. I know which way a mind -wended, what horizon it faced, by the setting of these tracks, and -whether it moved slowly or rapidly, by their greater or less intervals -and distinctness; for the swiftest step leaves yet a lasting trace. -Sometimes you will see the trails of many together, and where they -have gamboled and gone through a hundred evolutions, which testify to -a singular listlessness and leisure in nature. - -When I see a fox run across the pond on the snow, with the -carelessness of freedom, or at intervals trace his course in the -sunshine along the ridge of a hill, I give up to him sun and earth as -to their true proprietor. He does not go in the sun, but it seems to -follow him, and there is a visible sympathy between him and it. -Sometimes, when the snow lies light and but five or six inches deep, -you may give chase and come up with one on foot. In such a case he -will show a remarkable presence of mind, choosing only the safest -direction, though he may lose ground by it. Notwithstanding his -fright, he will take no step which is not beautiful. His pace is a -sort of leopard canter, as if he were in no wise impeded by the snow, -but were husbanding his strength all the while. When the ground is -uneven, the course is a series of graceful curves, conforming to the -shape of the surface. He runs as though there were not a bone in his -back. Occasionally dropping his muzzle to the ground for a rod or two, -and then tossing his head aloft, when satisfied of his course. When he -comes to a declivity, he will put his fore feet together, and slide -swiftly down it, shoving the snow before him. He treads so softly that -you would hardly hear it from any nearness, and yet with such -expression that it would not be quite inaudible at any distance. - -Of fishes, seventy-five genera and one hundred and seven species are -described in the Report. The fisherman will be startled to learn that -there are but about a dozen kinds in the ponds and streams of any -inland town; and almost nothing is known of their habits. Only their -names and residence make one love fishes. I would know even the number -of their fin-rays, and how many scales compose the lateral line. I am -the wiser in respect to all knowledges, and the better qualified for -all fortunes, for knowing that there is a minnow in the brook. -Methinks I have need even of his sympathy, and to be his fellow in a -degree. - -I have experienced such simple delight in the trivial matters of -fishing and sporting, formerly, as might have inspired the muse of -Homer or Shakespeare; and now, when I turn the pages and ponder the -plates of the Angler's Souvenir, I am fain to exclaim,-- - - "Can such things be, - And overcome us like a summer's cloud?" - -Next to nature, it seems as if man's actions were the most natural, -they so gently accord with her. The small seines of flax stretched -across the shallow and transparent parts of our river are no more -intrusion than the cobweb in the sun. I stay my boat in mid-current, -and look down in the sunny water to see the civil meshes of his nets, -and wonder how the blustering people of the town could have done this -elvish work. The twine looks like a new river-weed, and is to the -river as a beautiful memento of man's presence in nature, discovered -as silently and delicately as a footprint in the sand. - -When the ice is covered with snow, I do not suspect the wealth under -my feet; that there is as good as a mine under me wherever I go. How -many pickerel are poised on easy fin fathoms below the loaded wain! -The revolution of the seasons must be a curious phenomenon to them. At -length the sun and wind brush aside their curtain, and they see the -heavens again. - -Early in the spring, after the ice has melted, is the time for -spearing fish. Suddenly the wind shifts from northeast and east to -west and south, and every icicle, which has tinkled on the meadow -grass so long, trickles down its stem, and seeks its level unerringly -with a million comrades. The steam curls up from every roof and -fence. - - I see the civil sun drying earth's tears, - Her tears of joy, which only faster flow. - -In the brooks is heard the slight grating sound of small cakes of ice, -floating with various speed, full of content and promise, and where -the water gurgles under a natural bridge, you may hear these hasty -rafts hold conversation in an undertone. Every rill is a channel for -the juices of the meadow. In the ponds the ice cracks with a merry and -inspiriting din, and down the larger streams is whirled grating -hoarsely, and crashing its way along, which was so lately a highway -for the woodman's team and the fox, sometimes with the tracks of the -skaters still fresh upon it, and the holes cut for pickerel. Town -committees anxiously inspect the bridges and causeways, as if by mere -eye-force to intercede with the ice and save the treasury. - - The river swelleth more and more, - Like some sweet influence stealing o'er - The passive town; and for a while - Each tussock makes a tiny isle, - Where, on some friendly Ararat, - Resteth the weary water-rat. - - No ripple shows Musketaquid, - Her very current e'en is hid, - As deepest souls do calmest rest - When thoughts are swelling in the breast, - And she that in the summer's drought - Doth make a rippling and a rout, - Sleeps from Nahshawtuck to the Cliff, - Unruffled by a single skiff. - But by a thousand distant hills - The louder roar a thousand rills, - And many a spring which now is dumb, - And many a stream with smothered hum, - Doth swifter well and faster glide, - Though buried deep beneath the tide. - Our village shows a rural Venice, - Its broad lagoons where yonder fen is; - As lovely as the Bay of Naples - Yon placid cove amid the maples; - And in my neighbor's field of corn - I recognize the Golden Horn. - - Here Nature taught from year to year, - When only red men came to hear,-- - Methinks 't was in this school of art - Venice and Naples learned their part; - But still their mistress, to my mind, - Her young disciples leaves behind. - -The fisherman now repairs and launches his boat. The best time for -spearing is at this season, before the weeds have begun to grow, and -while the fishes lie in the shallow water, for in summer they prefer -the cool depths, and in the autumn they are still more or less -concealed by the grass. The first requisite is fuel for your crate; -and for this purpose the roots of the pitch pine are commonly used, -found under decayed stumps, where the trees have been felled eight or -ten years. - -With a crate, or jack, made of iron hoops, to contain your fire, and -attached to the bow of your boat about three feet from the water, a -fish-spear with seven tines and fourteen feet long, a large basket or -barrow to carry your fuel and bring back your fish, and a thick outer -garment, you are equipped for a cruise. It should be a warm and still -evening; and then, with a fire crackling merrily at the prow, you may -launch forth like a cucullo into the night. The dullest soul cannot -go upon such an expedition without some of the spirit of adventure; as -if he had stolen the boat of Charon and gone down the Styx on a -midnight expedition into the realms of Pluto. And much speculation -does this wandering star afford to the musing night-walker, leading -him on and on, jack-o'-lantern-like, over the meadows; or, if he is -wiser, he amuses himself with imagining what of human life, far in the -silent night, is flitting moth-like round its candle. The silent -navigator shoves his craft gently over the water, with a smothered -pride and sense of benefaction, as if he were the phosphor, or -light-bringer, to these dusky realms, or some sister moon, blessing -the spaces with her light. The waters, for a rod or two on either hand -and several feet in depth, are lit up with more than noonday -distinctness, and he enjoys the opportunity which so many have -desired, for the roofs of a city are indeed raised, and he surveys the -midnight economy of the fishes. There they lie in every variety of -posture; some on their backs, with their white bellies uppermost, some -suspended in mid-water, some sculling gently along with a dreamy -motion of the fins, and others quite active and wide awake,--a scene -not unlike what the human city would present. Occasionally he will -encounter a turtle selecting the choicest morsels, or a muskrat -resting on a tussock. He may exercise his dexterity, if he sees fit, -on the more distant and active fish, or fork the nearer into his boat, -as potatoes out of a pot, or even take the sound sleepers with his -hands. But these last accomplishments he will soon learn to dispense -with, distinguishing the real object of his pursuit, and find -compensation in the beauty and never-ending novelty of his position. -The pines growing down to the water's edge will show newly as in the -glare of a conflagration; and as he floats under the willows with his -light, the song sparrow will often wake on her perch, and sing that -strain at midnight which she had meditated for the morning. And when -he has done, he may have to steer his way home through the dark by the -north star, and he will feel himself some degrees nearer to it for -having lost his way on the earth. - -The fishes commonly taken in this way are pickerel, suckers, perch, -eels, pouts, breams, and shiners,--from thirty to sixty weight in a -night. Some are hard to be recognized in the unnatural light, -especially the perch, which, his dark bands being exaggerated, -acquires a ferocious aspect. The number of these transverse bands, -which the Report states to be seven, is, however, very variable, for -in some of our ponds they have nine and ten even. - -It appears that we have eight kinds of tortoises, twelve snakes,--but -one of which is venomous,--nine frogs and toads, nine salamanders, and -one lizard, for our neighbors. - -I am particularly attracted by the motions of the serpent tribe. They -make our hands and feet, the wings of the bird, and the fins of the -fish seem very superfluous, as if Nature had only indulged her fancy -in making them. The black snake will dart into a bush when pursued, -and circle round and round with an easy and graceful motion, amid the -thin and bare twigs, five or six feet from the ground, as a bird flits -from bough to bough, or hang in festoons between the forks. -Elasticity and flexibleness in the simpler forms of animal life are -equivalent to a complex system of limbs in the higher; and we have -only to be as wise and wily as the serpent, to perform as difficult -feats without the vulgar assistance of hands and feet. - -In May, the snapping turtle (_Emysaurus serpentina_) is frequently -taken on the meadows and in the river. The fisherman, taking sight -over the calm surface, discovers its snout projecting above the water, -at the distance of many rods, and easily secures his prey through its -unwillingness to disturb the water by swimming hastily away, for, -gradually drawing its head under, it remains resting on some limb or -clump of grass. Its eggs, which are buried at a distance from the -water, in some soft place, as a pigeon-bed, are frequently devoured by -the skunk. It will catch fish by daylight, as a toad catches flies, -and is said to emit a transparent fluid from its mouth to attract -them. - -Nature has taken more care than the fondest parent for the education -and refinement of her children. Consider the silent influence which -flowers exert, no less upon the ditcher in the meadow than the lady in -the bower. When I walk in the woods, I am reminded that a wise -purveyor has been there before me; my most delicate experience is -typified there. I am struck with the pleasing friendships and -unanimities of nature, as when the lichen on the trees takes the form -of their leaves. In the most stupendous scenes you will see delicate -and fragile features, as slight wreaths of vapor, dew-lines, feathery -sprays, which suggest a high refinement, a noble blood and breeding, -as it were. It is not hard to account for elves and fairies; they -represent this light grace, this ethereal gentility. Bring a spray -from the wood, or a crystal from the brook, and place it on your -mantel, and your household ornaments will seem plebeian beside its -nobler fashion and bearing. It will wave superior there, as if used to -a more refined and polished circle. It has a salute and a response to -all your enthusiasm and heroism. - -In the winter, I stop short in the path to admire how the trees grow -up without forethought, regardless of the time and circumstances. They -do not wait as man does, but now is the golden age of the sapling. -Earth, air, sun, and rain are occasion enough; they were no better in -primeval centuries. The "winter of _their_ discontent" never comes. -Witness the buds of the native poplar standing gayly out to the frost -on the sides of its bare switches. They express a naked confidence. -With cheerful heart one could be a sojourner in the wilderness, if he -were sure to find there the catkins of the willow or the alder. When I -read of them in the accounts of northern adventurers, by Baffin's Bay -or Mackenzie's River, I see how even there, too, I could dwell. They -are our little vegetable redeemers. Methinks our virtue will hold out -till they come again. They are worthy to have had a greater than -Minerva or Ceres for their inventor. Who was the benignant goddess -that bestowed them on mankind? - -Nature is mythical and mystical always, and works with the license and -extravagance of genius. She has her luxurious and florid style as well -as art. Having a pilgrim's cup to make, she gives to the whole--stem, -bowl, handle, and nose--some fantastic shape, as if it were to be the -car of some fabulous marine deity, a Nereus or Triton. - -In the winter, the botanist need not confine himself to his books and -herbarium, and give over his outdoor pursuits, but may study a new -department of vegetable physiology, what may be called crystalline -botany, then. The winter of 1837 was unusually favorable for this. In -December of that year, the Genius of vegetation seemed to hover by -night over its summer haunts with unusual persistency. Such a -hoar-frost as is very uncommon here or anywhere, and whose full -effects can never be witnessed after sunrise, occurred several times. -As I went forth early on a still and frosty morning, the trees looked -like airy creatures of darkness caught napping; on this side huddled -together, with their gray hairs streaming, in a secluded valley which -the sun had not penetrated; on that, hurrying off in Indian file along -some watercourse, while the shrubs and grasses, like elves and fairies -of the night, sought to hide their diminished heads in the snow. The -river, viewed from the high bank, appeared of a yellowish-green color, -though all the landscape was white. Every tree, shrub, and spire of -grass, that could raise its head above the snow, was covered with a -dense ice-foliage, answering, as it were, leaf for leaf to its summer -dress. Even the fences had put forth leaves in the night. The centre, -diverging, and more minute fibres were perfectly distinct, and the -edges regularly indented. These leaves were on the side of the twig or -stubble opposite to the sun, meeting it for the most part at right -angles, and there were others standing out at all possible angles upon -these and upon one another, with no twig or stubble supporting them. -When the first rays of the sun slanted over the scene, the grasses -seemed hung with innumerable jewels, which jingled merrily as they -were brushed by the foot of the traveler, and reflected all the hues -of the rainbow, as he moved from side to side. It struck me that these -ghost leaves, and the green ones whose forms they assume, were the -creatures of but one law; that in obedience to the same law the -vegetable juices swell gradually into the perfect leaf, on the one -hand, and the crystalline particles troop to their standard in the -same order, on the other. As if the material were indifferent, but the -law one and invariable, and every plant in the spring but pushed up -into and filled a permanent and eternal mould, which, summer and -winter forever, is waiting to be filled. - -This foliate structure is common to the coral and the plumage of -birds, and to how large a part of animate and inanimate nature. The -same independence of law on matter is observable in many other -instances, as in the natural rhymes, when some animal form, color, or -odor has its counterpart in some vegetable. As, indeed, all rhymes -imply an eternal melody, independent of any particular sense. - -As confirmation of the fact that vegetation is but a kind of -crystallization, every one may observe how, upon the edge of the -melting frost on the window, the needle-shaped particles are bundled -together so as to resemble fields waving with grain, or shocks rising -here and there from the stubble; on one side the vegetation of the -torrid zone, high-towering palms and wide-spread banyans, such as are -seen in pictures of oriental scenery; on the other, arctic pines stiff -frozen, with downcast branches. - -Vegetation has been made the type of all growth; but as in crystals -the law is more obvious, their material being more simple, and for the -most part more transient and fleeting, would it not be as -philosophical as convenient to consider all growth, all filling up -within the limits of nature, but a crystallization more or less rapid? - -On this occasion, in the side of the high bank of the river, wherever -the water or other cause had formed a cavity, its throat and outer -edge, like the entrance to a citadel, bristled with a glistening -ice-armor. In one place you might see minute ostrich-feathers, which -seemed the waving plumes of the warriors filing into the fortress; in -another, the glancing, fan-shaped banners of the Lilliputian host; and -in another, the needle-shaped particles collected into bundles, -resembling the plumes of the pine, might pass for a phalanx of spears. -From the under side of the ice in the brooks, where there was a -thicker ice below, depended a mass of crystallization, four or five -inches deep, in the form of prisms, with their lower ends open, which, -when the ice was laid on its smooth side, resembled the roofs and -steeples of a Gothic city, or the vessels of a crowded haven under a -press of canvas. The very mud in the road, where the ice had melted, -was crystallized with deep rectilinear fissures, and the crystalline -masses in the sides of the ruts resembled exactly asbestos in the -disposition of their needles. Around the roots of the stubble and -flower-stalks, the frost was gathered into the form of irregular -conical shells, or fairy rings. In some places the ice-crystals were -lying upon granite rocks, directly over crystals of quartz, the -frostwork of a longer night, crystals of a longer period, but, to some -eye unprejudiced by the short term of human life, melting as fast as -the former. - -In the Report on the Invertebrate Animals, this singular fact is -recorded, which teaches us to put a new value on time and space: "The -distribution of the marine shells is well worthy of notice as a -geological fact. Cape Cod, the right arm of the Commonwealth, reaches -out into the ocean, some fifty or sixty miles. It is nowhere many -miles wide; but this narrow point of land has hitherto proved a -barrier to the migrations of many species of Mollusca. Several genera -and numerous species, which are separated by the intervention of only -a few miles of land, are effectually prevented from mingling by the -Cape, and do not pass from one side to the other.... Of the one -hundred and ninety-seven marine species, eighty-three do not pass to -the south shore, and fifty are not found on the north shore of the -Cape." - -That common mussel, the _Unio complanatus_, or more properly -_fluviatilis_, left in the spring by the muskrat upon rocks and -stumps, appears to have been an important article of food with the -Indians. In one place, where they are said to have feasted, they are -found in large quantities, at an elevation of thirty feet above the -river, filling the soil to the depth of a foot, and mingled with ashes -and Indian remains. - -The works we have placed at the head of our chapter, with as much -license as the preacher selects his text, are such as imply more -labor than enthusiasm. The State wanted complete catalogues of its -natural riches, with such additional facts merely as would be directly -useful. - -The reports on Fishes, Reptiles, Insects, and Invertebrate Animals, -however, indicate labor and research, and have a value independent of -the object of the legislature. - -Those on Herbaceous Plants and Birds cannot be of much value, as long -as Bigelow and Nuttall are accessible. They serve but to indicate, -with more or less exactness, what species are found in the State. We -detect several errors ourselves, and a more practiced eye would no -doubt expand the list. - -The Quadrupeds deserved a more final and instructive report than they -have obtained. - -These volumes deal much in measurements and minute descriptions, not -interesting to the general reader, with only here and there a colored -sentence to allure him, like those plants growing in dark forests, -which bear only leaves without blossoms. But the ground was -comparatively unbroken, and we will not complain of the pioneer, if he -raises no flowers with his first crop. Let us not underrate the value -of a fact; it will one day flower in a truth. It is astonishing how -few facts of importance are added in a century to the natural history -of any animal. The natural history of man himself is still being -gradually written. Men are knowing enough after their fashion. Every -countryman and dairy-maid knows that the coats of the fourth stomach -of the calf will curdle milk, and what particular mushroom is a safe -and nutritious diet. You cannot go into any field or wood, but it -will seem as if every stone had been turned, and the bark on every -tree ripped up. But, after all, it is much easier to discover than to -see when the cover is off. It has been well said that "the attitude of -inspection is prone." Wisdom does not inspect, but behold. We must -look a long time before we can see. Slow are the beginnings of -philosophy. He has something demoniacal in him, who can discern a law -or couple two facts. We can imagine a time when "Water runs down hill" -may have been taught in the schools. The true man of science will know -nature better by his finer organization; he will smell, taste, see, -hear, feel, better than other men. His will be a deeper and finer -experience. We do not learn by inference and deduction and the -application of mathematics to philosophy, but by direct intercourse -and sympathy. It is with science as with ethics,--we cannot know truth -by contrivance and method; the Baconian is as false as any other, and -with all the helps of machinery and the arts, the most scientific will -still be the healthiest and friendliest man, and possess a more -perfect Indian wisdom. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[3] _Reports--on the Fishes, Reptiles, and Birds; the Herbaceous -Plants and Quadrupeds; the Insects Injurious to Vegetation; and the -Invertebrate Animals of Massachusetts._ Published agreeably to an -Order of the Legislature, by the Commissioners on the Zoological and -Botanical Survey of the State. - -[4] A white robin and a white quail have occasionally been seen. It is -mentioned in Audubon as remarkable that the nest of a robin should be -found on the ground; but this bird seems to be less particular than -most in the choice of a building-spot. I have seen its nest placed -under the thatched roof of a deserted barn, and in one instance, where -the adjacent country was nearly destitute of trees, together with two -of the phoebe, upon the end of a board in the loft of a sawmill, but -a few feet from the saw, which vibrated several inches with the motion -of the machinery. - -[5] This bird, which is so well described by Nuttall, but is -apparently unknown by the author of the Report, is one of the most -common in the woods in this vicinity, and in Cambridge I have heard -the college yard ring with its trill. The boys call it "yorrick," from -the sound of its querulous and chiding note, as it flits near the -traveler through the underwood. The cowbird's egg is occasionally -found in its nest, as mentioned by Audubon. - - - - -A WALK TO WACHUSETT - - CONCORD, July 19, 1842. - - The needles of the pine - All to the west incline. - - -Summer and winter our eyes had rested on the dim outline of the -mountains in our horizon, to which distance and indistinctness lent a -grandeur not their own, so that they served equally to interpret all -the allusions of poets and travelers; whether with Homer, on a spring -morning, we sat down on the many-peaked Olympus, or with Virgil and -his compeers roamed the Etrurian and Thessalian hills, or with -Humboldt measured the more modern Andes and Teneriffe. Thus we spoke -our mind to them, standing on the Concord cliffs:-- - - With frontier strength ye stand your ground, - With grand content ye circle round, - Tumultuous silence for all sound, - Ye distant nursery of rills, - Monadnock, and the Peterboro' hills; - Like some vast fleet, - Sailing through rain and sleet, - Through winter's cold and summer's heat; - Still holding on, upon your high emprise, - Until ye find a shore amid the skies; - Not skulking close to land, - With cargo contraband, - For they who sent a venture out by ye - Have set the sun to see - Their honesty. - Ships of the line, each one, - Ye to the westward run, - Always before the gale, - Under a press of sail, - With weight of metal all untold. - I seem to feel ye, in my firm seat here, - Immeasurable depth of hold, - And breadth of beam, and length of running gear. - - Methinks ye take luxurious pleasure - In your novel western leisure; - So cool your brows, and freshly blue, - As Time had nought for ye to do; - For ye lie at your length, - An unappropriated strength, - Unhewn primeval timber, - For knees so stiff, for masts so limber; - The stock of which new earths are made - One day to be our western trade, - Fit for the stanchions of a world - Which through the seas of space is hurled. - - While we enjoy a lingering ray, - Ye still o'ertop the western day, - Reposing yonder, on God's croft, - Like solid stacks of hay. - Edged with silver, and with gold, - The clouds hang o'er in damask fold, - And with such depth of amber light - The west is dight, - Where still a few rays slant, - That even heaven seems extravagant. - On the earth's edge mountains and trees - Stand as they were on air graven, - Or as the vessels in a haven - Await the morning breeze. - I fancy even - Through your defiles windeth the way to heaven; - And yonder still, in spite of history's page, - Linger the golden and the silver age; - Upon the laboring gale - The news of future centuries is brought, - And of new dynasties of thought, - From your remotest vale. - - But special I remember thee, - Wachusett, who like me - Standest alone without society. - Thy far blue eye, - A remnant of the sky, - Seen through the clearing or the gorge - Or from the windows of the forge, - Doth leaven all it passes by. - Nothing is true, - But stands 'tween me and you, - Thou western pioneer, - Who know'st not shame nor fear - By venturous spirit driven, - Under the eaves of heaven. - And canst expand thee there, - And breathe enough of air? - Upholding heaven, holding down earth, - Thy pastime from thy birth, - Not steadied by the one, nor leaning on the other; - May I approve myself thy worthy brother! - - [Illustration: _Mount Wachusett from the Wayland Hills_] - -At length, like Rasselas, and other inhabitants of happy valleys, we -resolved to scale the blue wall which bounded the western horizon, -though not without misgivings that thereafter no visible fairyland -would exist for us. But we will not leap at once to our journey's end, -though near, but imitate Homer, who conducts his reader over the -plain, and along the resounding sea, though it be but to the tent of -Achilles. In the spaces of thought are the reaches of land and water, -where men go and come. The landscape lies far and fair within, and the -deepest thinker is the farthest traveled. - -At a cool and early hour on a pleasant morning in July, my companion -and I passed rapidly through Acton and Stow, stopping to rest and -refresh us on the bank of a small stream, a tributary of the Assabet, -in the latter town. As we traversed the cool woods of Acton, with -stout staves in our hands, we were cheered by the song of the red-eye, -the thrushes, the phoebe, and the cuckoo; and as we passed through -the open country, we inhaled the fresh scent of every field, and all -nature lay passive, to be viewed and traveled. Every rail, every -farmhouse, seen dimly in the twilight, every tinkling sound told of -peace and purity, and we moved happily along the dank roads, enjoying -not such privacy as the day leaves when it withdraws, but such as it -has not profaned. It was solitude with light; which is better than -darkness. But anon, the sound of the mower's rifle was heard in the -fields, and this, too, mingled with the lowing of kine. - -This part of our route lay through the country of hops, which plant -perhaps supplies the want of the vine in American scenery, and may -remind the traveler of Italy and the South of France, whether he -traverses the country when the hop-fields, as then, present solid and -regular masses of verdure, hanging in graceful festoons from pole to -pole, the cool coverts where lurk the gales which refresh the -wayfarer; or in September, when the women and children, and the -neighbors from far and near, are gathered to pick the hops into long -troughs; or later still, when the poles stand piled in vast pyramids -in the yards, or lie in heaps by the roadside. - -The culture of the hop, with the processes of picking, drying in the -kiln, and packing for the market, as well as the uses to which it is -applied, so analogous to the culture and uses of the grape, may afford -a theme for future poets. - -The mower in the adjacent meadow could not tell us the name of the -brook on whose banks we had rested, or whether it had any, but his -younger companion, perhaps his brother, knew that it was Great Brook. -Though they stood very near together in the field, the things they -knew were very far apart; nor did they suspect each other's reserved -knowledge, till the stranger came by. In Bolton, while we rested on -the rails of a cottage fence, the strains of music which issued from -within, probably in compliment to us, sojourners, reminded us that -thus far men were fed by the accustomed pleasures. So soon did we, -wayfarers, begin to learn that man's life is rounded with the same few -facts, the same simple relations everywhere, and it is vain to travel -to find it new. The flowers grow more various ways than he. But coming -soon to higher land, which afforded a prospect of the mountains, we -thought we had not traveled in vain, if it were only to hear a truer -and wilder pronunciation of their names from the lips of the -inhabitants; not _Way_-tatic, _Way_-chusett, but _Wor_-tatic, -_Wor_-chusett. It made us ashamed of our tame and civil pronunciation, -and we looked upon them as born and bred farther west than we. Their -tongues had a more generous accent than ours, as if breath was cheaper -where they wagged. A countryman, who speaks but seldom, talks -copiously, as it were, as his wife sets cream and cheese before you -without stint. Before noon we had reached the highlands overlooking -the valley of Lancaster (affording the first fair and open prospect -into the west), and there, on the top of a hill, in the shade of some -oaks, near to where a spring bubbled out from a leaden pipe, we rested -during the heat of the day, reading Virgil and enjoying the scenery. -It was such a place as one feels to be on the outside of the earth; -for from it we could, in some measure, see the form and structure of -the globe. There lay Wachusett, the object of our journey, lowering -upon us with unchanged proportions, though with a less ethereal aspect -than had greeted our morning gaze, while further north, in successive -order, slumbered its sister mountains along the horizon. - -We could get no further into the Aeneid than - - -- atque altae moenia Romae, - -- and the wall of high Rome, - -before we were constrained to reflect by what myriad tests a work of -genius has to be tried; that Virgil, away in Rome, two thousand years -off, should have to unfold his meaning, the inspiration of Italian -vales, to the pilgrim on New England hills. This life so raw and -modern, that so civil and ancient; and yet we read Virgil mainly to be -reminded of the identity of human nature in all ages, and, by the -poet's own account, we are both the children of a late age, and live -equally under the reign of Jupiter. - - "He shook honey from the leaves, and removed fire, - And stayed the wine, everywhere flowing in rivers; - That experience, by meditating, might invent various arts - By degrees, and seek the blade of corn in furrows, - And strike out hidden fire from the veins of the flint." - -The old world stands serenely behind the new, as one mountain yonder -towers behind another, more dim and distant. Rome imposes her story -still upon this late generation. The very children in the school we -had that morning passed had gone through her wars, and recited her -alarms, ere they had heard of the wars of neighboring Lancaster. The -roving eye still rests inevitably on her hills, and she still holds up -the skirts of the sky on that side, and makes the past remote. - -The lay of the land hereabouts is well worthy the attention of the -traveler. The hill on which we were resting made part of an extensive -range, running from southwest to northeast, across the country, and -separating the waters of the Nashua from those of the Concord, whose -banks we had left in the morning, and by bearing in mind this fact, we -could easily determine whither each brook was bound that crossed our -path. Parallel to this, and fifteen miles further west, beyond the -deep and broad valley in which lie Groton, Shirley, Lancaster, and -Boylston, runs the Wachusett range, in the same general direction. The -descent into the valley on the Nashua side is by far the most sudden; -and a couple of miles brought us to the southern branch of the Nashua, -a shallow but rapid stream, flowing between high and gravelly banks. -But we soon learned that these were no _gelidae valles_ into which we -had descended, and, missing the coolness of the morning air, feared it -had become the sun's turn to try his power upon us. - - "The sultry sun had gained the middle sky, - And not a tree, and not an herb was nigh," - -and with melancholy pleasure we echoed the melodious plaint of our -fellow-traveler, Hassan, in the desert,-- - - "Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, - When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way." - -The air lay lifeless between the hills, as in a seething caldron, with -no leaf stirring, and instead of the fresh odor of grass and clover, -with which we had before been regaled, the dry scent of every herb -seemed merely medicinal. Yielding, therefore, to the heat, we strolled -into the woods, and along the course of a rivulet, on whose banks we -loitered, observing at our leisure the products of these new fields. -He who traverses the woodland paths, at this season, will have -occasion to remember the small, drooping, bell-like flowers and -slender red stem of the dogsbane, and the coarser stem and berry of -the poke, which are both common in remoter and wilder scenes; and if -"the sun casts such a reflecting heat from the sweet-fern" as makes -him faint, when he is climbing the bare hills, as they complained who -first penetrated into these parts, the cool fragrance of the -swamp-pink restores him again, when traversing the valleys between. - -As we went on our way late in the afternoon, we refreshed ourselves by -bathing our feet in every rill that crossed the road, and anon, as we -were able to walk in the shadows of the hills, recovered our morning -elasticity. Passing through Sterling, we reached the banks of the -Stillwater, in the western part of the town, at evening, where is a -small village collected. We fancied that there was already a certain -western look about this place, a smell of pines and roar of water, -recently confined by dams, belying its name, which were exceedingly -grateful. When the first inroad has been made, a few acres leveled, -and a few houses erected, the forest looks wilder than ever. Left to -herself, nature is always more or less civilized, and delights in a -certain refinement; but where the axe has encroached upon the edge of -the forest, the dead and unsightly limbs of the pine, which she had -concealed with green banks of verdure, are exposed to sight. This -village had, as yet, no post-office, nor any settled name. In the -small villages which we entered, the villagers gazed after us, with a -complacent, almost compassionate look, as if we were just making our -_debut_ in the world at a late hour. "Nevertheless," did they seem to -say, "come and study us, and learn men and manners." So is each one's -world but a clearing in the forest, so much open and inclosed ground. -The landlord had not yet returned from the field with his men, and the -cows had yet to be milked. But we remembered the inscription on the -wall of the Swedish inn, "You will find at Trolhate excellent bread, -meat, and wine, provided you bring them with you," and were contented. -But I must confess it did somewhat disturb our pleasure, in this -withdrawn spot, to have our own village newspaper handed us by our -host, as if the greatest charm the country offered to the traveler was -the facility of communication with the town. Let it recline on its own -everlasting hills, and not be looking out from their summits for some -petty Boston or New York in the horizon. - -At intervals we heard the murmuring of water, and the slumberous -breathing of crickets, throughout the night; and left the inn the next -morning in the gray twilight, after it had been hallowed by the night -air, and when only the innocent cows were stirring, with a kind of -regret. It was only four miles to the base of the mountain, and the -scenery was already more picturesque. Our road lay along the course of -the Stillwater, which was brawling at the bottom of a deep ravine, -filled with pines and rocks, tumbling fresh from the mountains, so -soon, alas! to commence its career of usefulness. At first, a cloud -hung between us and the summit, but it was soon blown away. As we -gathered the raspberries, which grew abundantly by the roadside, we -fancied that that action was consistent with a lofty prudence; as if -the traveler who ascends into a mountainous region should fortify -himself by eating of such light ambrosial fruits as grow there, and -drinking of the springs which gush out from the mountain-sides, as he -gradually inhales the subtler and purer atmosphere of those elevated -places, thus propitiating the mountain gods by a sacrifice of their -own fruits. The gross products of the plains and valleys are for such -as dwell therein; but it seemed to us that the juices of this berry -had relation to the thin air of the mountain-tops. - -In due time we began to ascend the mountain, passing, first, through a -grand sugar maple wood, which bore the marks of the auger, then a -denser forest, which gradually became dwarfed, till there were no -trees whatever. We at length pitched our tent on the summit. It is but -nineteen hundred feet above the village of Princeton, and three -thousand above the level of the sea; but by this slight elevation it -is infinitely removed from the plain, and when we reached it we felt a -sense of remoteness, as if we had traveled into distant regions, to -Arabia Petraea, or the farthest East. A robin upon a staff was the -highest object in sight. Swallows were flying about us, and the -chewink and cuckoo were heard near at hand. The summit consists of a -few acres, destitute of trees, covered with bare rocks, interspersed -with blueberry bushes, raspberries, gooseberries, strawberries, moss, -and a fine, wiry grass. The common yellow lily and dwarf cornel grow -abundantly in the crevices of the rocks. This clear space, which is -gently rounded, is bounded a few feet lower by a thick shrubbery of -oaks, with maples, aspens, beeches, cherries, and occasionally a -mountain-ash intermingled, among which we found the bright blue -berries of the Solomon's-seal, and the fruit of the pyrola. From the -foundation of a wooden observatory, which was formerly erected on the -highest point, forming a rude, hollow structure of stone, a dozen feet -in diameter, and five or six in height, we could see Monadnock, in -simple grandeur, in the northwest, rising nearly a thousand feet -higher, still the "far blue mountain," though with an altered profile. -The first day the weather was so hazy that it was in vain we -endeavored to unravel the obscurity. It was like looking into the sky -again, and the patches of forest here and there seemed to flit like -clouds over a lower heaven. As to voyagers of an aerial Polynesia, the -earth seemed like a larger island in the ether; on every side, even as -low as we, the sky shutting down, like an unfathomable deep, around -it, a blue Pacific island, where who knows what islanders inhabit? and -as we sail near its shores we see the waving of trees and hear the -lowing of kine. - -We read Virgil and Wordsworth in our tent, with new pleasure there, -while waiting for a clearer atmosphere, nor did the weather prevent -our appreciating the simple truth and beauty of Peter Bell:-- - - "And he had lain beside his asses, - On lofty Cheviot Hills: - - "And he had trudged through Yorkshire dales, - Among the rocks and winding _scars_; - Where deep and low the hamlets lie - Beneath their little patch of sky - And little lot of stars." - -Who knows but this hill may one day be a Helvellyn, or even a -Parnassus, and the Muses haunt here, and other Homers frequent the -neighboring plains? - - Not unconcerned Wachusett rears his head - Above the field, so late from nature won, - With patient brow reserved, as one who read - New annals in the history of man. - -The blueberries which the mountain afforded, added to the milk we had -brought, made our frugal supper, while for entertainment the even-song -of the wood thrush rang along the ridge. Our eyes rested on no painted -ceiling nor carpeted hall, but on skies of Nature's painting, and -hills and forests of her embroidery. Before sunset, we rambled along -the ridge to the north, while a hawk soared still above us. It was a -place where gods might wander, so solemn and solitary, and removed -from all contagion with the plain. As the evening came on, the haze -was condensed in vapor, and the landscape became more distinctly -visible, and numerous sheets of water were brought to light. - - "Et jam summa procul villarum culmina fumant, - Majoresque cadunt altis de montibus umbrae." - - And now the tops of the villas smoke afar off, - And the shadows fall longer from the high mountains. - -As we stood on the stone tower while the sun was setting, we saw the -shades of night creep gradually over the valleys of the east; and the -inhabitants went into their houses, and shut their doors, while the -moon silently rose up, and took possession of that part. And then the -same scene was repeated on the west side, as far as the Connecticut -and the Green Mountains, and the sun's rays fell on us two alone, of -all New England men. - -It was the night but one before the full of the moon, so bright that -we could see to read distinctly by moonlight, and in the evening -strolled over the summit without danger. There was, by chance, a fire -blazing on Monadnock that night, which lighted up the whole western -horizon, and, by making us aware of a community of mountains, made our -position seem less solitary. But at length the wind drove us to the -shelter of our tent, and we closed its door for the night, and fell -asleep. - -It was thrilling to hear the wind roar over the rocks, at intervals -when we waked, for it had grown quite cold and windy. The night was, -in its elements, simple even to majesty in that bleak place,--a bright -moonlight and a piercing wind. It was at no time darker than twilight -within the tent, and we could easily see the moon through its -transparent roof as we lay; for there was the moon still above us, -with Jupiter and Saturn on either hand, looking down on Wachusett, and -it was a satisfaction to know that they were our fellow-travelers -still, as high and out of our reach as our own destiny. Truly the -stars were given for a consolation to man. We should not know but our -life were fated to be always groveling, but it is permitted to behold -them, and surely they are deserving of a fair destiny. We see laws -which never fail, of whose failure we never conceived; and their lamps -burn all the night, too, as well as all day,--so rich and lavish is -that nature which can afford this superfluity of light. - -The morning twilight began as soon as the moon had set, and we arose -and kindled our fire, whose blaze might have been seen for thirty -miles around. As the daylight increased, it was remarkable how rapidly -the wind went down. There was no dew on the summit, but coldness -supplied its place. When the dawn had reached its prime, we enjoyed -the view of a distinct horizon line, and could fancy ourselves at sea, -and the distant hills the waves in the horizon, as seen from the deck -of a vessel. The cherry-birds flitted around us, the nuthatch and -flicker were heard among the bushes, the titmouse perched within a few -feet, and the song of the wood thrush again rang along the ridge. At -length we saw the run rise up out of the sea, and shine on -Massachusetts; and from this moment the atmosphere grew more and more -transparent till the time of our departure, and we began to realize -the extent of the view, and how the earth, in some degree, answered to -the heavens in breadth, the white villages to the constellations in -the sky. There was little of the sublimity and grandeur which belong -to mountain scenery, but an immense landscape to ponder on a summer's -day. We could see how ample and roomy is nature. As far as the eye -could reach there was little life in the landscape; the few birds -that flitted past did not crowd. The travelers on the remote highways, -which intersect the country on every side, had no fellow-travelers for -miles, before or behind. On every side, the eye ranged over successive -circles of towns, rising one above another, like the terraces of a -vineyard, till they were lost in the horizon. Wachusett is, in fact, -the observatory of the State. There lay Massachusetts, spread out -before us in its length and breadth, like a map. There was the level -horizon which told of the sea on the east and south, the well-known -hills of New Hampshire on the north, and the misty summits of the -Hoosac and Green Mountains, first made visible to us the evening -before, blue and unsubstantial, like some bank of clouds which the -morning wind would dissipate, on the northwest and west. These last -distant ranges, on which the eye rests unwearied, commence with an -abrupt boulder in the north, beyond the Connecticut, and travel -southward, with three or four peaks dimly seen. But Monadnock, rearing -its masculine front in the northwest, is the grandest feature. As we -beheld it, we knew that it was the height of land between the two -rivers, on this side the valley of the Merrimack, on that of the -Connecticut, fluctuating with their blue seas of air,--these rival -vales, already teeming with Yankee men along their respective streams, -born to what destiny who shall tell? Watatic and the neighboring -hills, in this State and in New Hampshire, are a continuation of the -same elevated range on which we were standing. But that New Hampshire -bluff,--that promontory of a State,--lowering day and night on this -our State of Massachusetts, will longest haunt our dreams. - -We could at length realize the place mountains occupy on the land, and -how they come into the general scheme of the universe. When first we -climb their summits and observe their lesser irregularities, we do not -give credit to the comprehensive intelligence which shaped them; but -when afterward we behold their outlines in the horizon, we confess -that the hand which moulded their opposite slopes, making one to -balance the other, worked round a deep centre, and was privy to the -plan of the universe. So is the least part of nature in its bearings -referred to all space. These lesser mountain ranges, as well as the -Alleghanies, run from northeast to southwest, and parallel with these -mountain streams are the more fluent rivers, answering to the general -direction of the coast, the bank of the great ocean stream itself. -Even the clouds, with their thin bars, fall into the same direction by -preference, and such even is the course of the prevailing winds, and -the migration of men and birds. A mountain chain determines many -things for the statesman and philosopher. The improvements of -civilization rather creep along its sides than cross its summit. How -often is it a barrier to prejudice and fanaticism! In passing over -these heights of land, through their thin atmosphere, the follies of -the plain are refined and purified; and as many species of plants do -not scale their summits, so many species of folly, no doubt, do not -cross the Alleghanies; it is only the hardy mountain-plant that creeps -quite over the ridge, and descends into the valley beyond. - -We get a dim notion of the flight of birds, especially of such as fly -high in the air, by having ascended a mountain. We can now see what -landmarks mountains are to their migrations; how the Catskills and -Highlands have hardly sunk to them, when Wachusett and Monadnock open -a passage to the northeast; how they are guided, too, in their course -by the rivers and valleys; and who knows but by the stars, as well as -the mountain ranges, and not by the petty landmarks which we use. The -bird whose eye takes in the Green Mountains on the one side, and the -ocean on the other, need not be at a loss to find its way. - -At noon we descended the mountain, and, having returned to the abodes -of men, turned our faces to the east again; measuring our progress, -from time to time, by the more ethereal hues which the mountain -assumed. Passing swiftly through Stillwater and Sterling, as with a -downward impetus, we found ourselves almost at home again in the green -meadows of Lancaster, so like our own Concord, for both are watered by -two streams which unite near their centres, and have many other -features in common. There is an unexpected refinement about this -scenery; level prairies of great extent, interspersed with elms and -hop-fields and groves of trees, give it almost a classic appearance. -This, it will be remembered, was the scene of Mrs. Rowlandson's -capture, and of other events in the Indian wars, but from this July -afternoon, and under that mild exterior, those times seemed as remote -as the irruption of the Goths. They were the dark age of New England. -On beholding a picture of a New England village as it then appeared, -with a fair open prospect, and a light on trees and river, as if it -were broad noon, we find we had not thought the sun shone in those -days, or that men lived in broad daylight then. We do not imagine the -sun shining on hill and valley during Philip's war, nor on the -war-path of Paugus, or Standish, or Church, or Lovell, with serene -summer weather, but a dim twilight or night did those events transpire -in. They must have fought in the shade of their own dusky deeds. - -At length, as we plodded along the dusty roads, our thoughts became as -dusty as they; all thought indeed stopped, thinking broke down, or -proceeded only passively in a sort of rhythmical cadence of the -confused material of thought, and we found ourselves mechanically -repeating some familiar measure which timed with our tread; some verse -of the Robin Hood ballads, for instance, which one can recommend to -travel by:-- - - "Sweavens are swift, sayd lyttle John, - As the wind blows over the hill; - For if it be never so loud this night, - To-morrow it may be still." - -And so it went, up-hill and down, till a stone interrupted the line, -when a new verse was chosen:-- - - "His shoote it was but loosely shott, - Yet flewe not the arrowe in vaine, - For it mett one of the sheriffe's men, - And William a Trent was slaine." - -There is, however, this consolation to the most wayworn traveler, upon -the dustiest road, that the path his feet describe is so perfectly -symbolical of human life,--now climbing the hills, now descending into -the vales. From the summits he beholds the heavens and the horizon, -from the vales he looks up to the heights again. He is treading his -old lessons still, and though he may be very weary and travel-worn, it -is yet sincere experience. - -Leaving the Nashua, we changed our route a little, and arrived at -Stillriver Village, in the western part of Harvard, just as the sun -was setting. From this place, which lies to the northward, upon the -western slope of the same range of hills on which we had spent the -noon before, in the adjacent town, the prospect is beautiful, and the -grandeur of the mountain outlines unsurpassed. There was such a repose -and quiet here at this hour, as if the very hillsides were enjoying -the scene; and as we passed slowly along, looking back over the -country we had traversed, and listening to the evening song of the -robin, we could not help contrasting the equanimity of Nature with the -bustle and impatience of man. His words and actions presume always a -crisis near at hand, but she is forever silent and unpretending. - -And now that we have returned to the desultory life of the plain, let -us endeavor to import a little of that mountain grandeur into it. We -will remember within what walls we lie, and understand that this level -life too has its summit, and why from the mountain-top the deepest -valleys have a tinge of blue; that there is elevation in every hour, -as no part of the earth is so low that the heavens may not be seen -from, and we have only to stand on the summit of our hour to command -an uninterrupted horizon. - -We rested that night at Harvard, and the next morning, while one bent -his steps to the nearer village of Groton, the other took his -separate and solitary way to the peaceful meadows of Concord; but let -him not forget to record the brave hospitality of a farmer and his -wife, who generously entertained him at their board, though the poor -wayfarer could only congratulate the one on the continuance of hay -weather, and silently accept the kindness of the other. Refreshed by -this instance of generosity, no less than by the substantial viands -set before him, he pushed forward with new vigor, and reached the -banks of the Concord before the sun had climbed many degrees into the -heavens. - - - - -THE LANDLORD - - -Under the one word "house" are included the schoolhouse, the -almshouse, the jail, the tavern, the dwelling-house; and the meanest -shed or cave in which men live contains the elements of all these. But -nowhere on the earth stands the entire and perfect house. The -Parthenon, St. Peter's, the Gothic minster, the palace, the hovel, are -but imperfect executions of an imperfect idea. Who would dwell in -them? Perhaps to the eye of the gods the cottage is more holy than the -Parthenon, for they look down with no especial favor upon the shrines -formally dedicated to them, and that should be the most sacred roof -which shelters most of humanity. Surely, then, the gods who are most -interested in the human race preside over the Tavern, where especially -men congregate. Methinks I see the thousand shrines erected to -Hospitality shining afar in all countries, as well Mahometan and -Jewish as Christian, khans and caravansaries and inns, whither all -pilgrims without distinction resort. - -Likewise we look in vain, east or west over the earth, to find the -perfect man; but each represents only some particular excellence. The -Landlord is a man of more open and general sympathies, who possesses a -spirit of hospitality which is its own reward, and feeds and shelters -men from pure love of the creatures. To be sure, this profession is as -often filled by imperfect characters, and such as have sought it from -unworthy motives, as any other, but so much the more should we prize -the true and honest Landlord when we meet with him. - -Who has not imagined to himself a country inn, where the traveler -shall really feel _in_, and at home, and at his public house, who was -before at his private house?--whose host is indeed a _host_, and a -_lord_ of the _land_, a self-appointed brother of his race; called to -his place, beside, by all the winds of heaven and his good genius, as -truly as the preacher is called to preach; a man of such universal -sympathies, and so broad and genial a human nature, that he would fain -sacrifice the tender but narrow ties of private friendship to a broad, -sunshiny, fair-weather-and-foul friendship for his race; who loves -men, not as a philosopher, with philanthropy, nor as an overseer of -the poor, with charity, but by a necessity of his nature, as he loves -dogs and horses; and standing at his open door from morning till night -would fain see more and more of them come along the highway, and is -never satiated. To him the sun and moon are but travelers, the one by -day and the other by night; and they too patronize his house. To his -imagination all things travel save his sign-post and himself; and -though you may be his neighbor for years, he will show you only the -civilities of the road. But on the other hand, while nations and -individuals are alike selfish and exclusive, he loves all men equally; -and if he treats his nearest neighbor as a stranger, since he has -invited all nations to share his hospitality, the farthest-traveled is -in some measure kindred to him who takes him into the bosom of his -family. - -He keeps a house of entertainment at the sign of the Black Horse or -the Spread Eagle, and is known far and wide, and his fame travels with -increasing radius every year. All the neighborhood is in his interest, -and if the traveler ask how far to a tavern, he receives some such -answer as this: "Well, sir, there's a house about three miles from -here, where they haven't taken down their sign yet; but it's only ten -miles to Slocum's, and that's a capital house, both for man and -beast." At three miles he passes a cheerless barrack, standing -desolate behind its sign-post, neither public nor private, and has -glimpses of a discontented couple who have mistaken their calling. At -ten miles see where the Tavern stands,--really an _entertaining_ -prospect,--so public and inviting that only the rain and snow do not -enter. It is no gay pavilion, made of bright stuffs, and furnished -with nuts and gingerbread, but as plain and sincere as a caravansary; -located in no Tarrytown, where you receive only the civilities of -commerce, but far in the fields it exercises a primitive hospitality, -amid the fresh scent of new hay and raspberries, if it be summer-time, -and the tinkling of cow-bells from invisible pastures; for it is a -land flowing with milk and honey, and the newest milk courses in a -broad, deep stream across the premises. - -In these retired places the tavern is first of all a -house,--elsewhere, last of all, or never,--and warms and shelters its -inhabitants. It is as simple and sincere in its essentials as the -caves in which the first men dwelt, but it is also as open and public. -The traveler steps across the threshold, and lo! he too is master, for -he only can be called proprietor of the house here who behaves with -most propriety in it. The Landlord stands clear back in nature, to my -imagination, with his axe and spade felling trees and raising potatoes -with the vigor of a pioneer; with Promethean energy making nature -yield her increase to supply the wants of so many; and he is not so -exhausted, nor of so short a stride, but that he comes forward even to -the highway to this wide hospitality and publicity. Surely, he has -solved some of the problems of life. He comes in at his back door, -holding a log fresh cut for the hearth upon his shoulder with one -hand, while he greets the newly arrived traveler with the other. - -Here at length we have free range, as not in palaces, nor cottages, -nor temples, and intrude nowhere. All the secrets of housekeeping are -exhibited to the eyes of men, above and below, before and behind. This -is the necessary way to live, men have confessed, in these days, and -shall he skulk and hide? And why should we have any serious disgust at -kitchens? Perhaps they are the holiest recess of the house. There is -the hearth, after all,--and the settle, and the fagots, and the -kettle, and the crickets. We have pleasant reminiscences of these. -They are the heart, the left ventricle, the very vital part of the -house. Here the real and sincere life which we meet in the streets was -actually fed and sheltered. Here burns the taper that cheers the -lonely traveler by night, and from this hearth ascend the smokes that -populate the valley to his eyes by day. On the whole, a man may not be -so little ashamed of any other part of his house, for here is his -sincerity and earnest, at least. It may not be here that the besoms -are plied most,--it is not here that they need to be, for dust will -not settle on the kitchen floor more than in nature. - -Hence it will not do for the Landlord to possess too fine a nature. He -must have health above the common accidents of life, subject to no -modern fashionable diseases; but no taste, rather a vast relish or -appetite. His sentiments on all subjects will be delivered as freely -as the wind blows; there is nothing private or individual in them, -though still original, but they are public, and of the hue of the -heavens over his house,--a certain out-of-door obviousness and -transparency not to be disputed. What he does, his manners are not to -be complained of, though abstractly offensive, for it is what man -does, and in him the race is exhibited. When he eats, he is liver and -bowels and the whole digestive apparatus to the company, and so all -admit the thing is done. He must have no idiosyncrasies, no particular -bents or tendencies to this or that, but a general, uniform, and -healthy development, such as his portly person indicates, offering -himself equally on all sides to men. He is not one of your peaked and -inhospitable men of genius, with particular tastes, but, as we said -before, has one uniform relish, and taste which never aspires higher -than a tavern-sign, or the cut of a weather-cock. The man of genius, -like a dog with a bone, or the slave who has swallowed a diamond, or a -patient with the gravel, sits afar and retired, off the road, hangs -out no sign of refreshment for man and beast, but says, by all -possible hints and signs, I wish to be alone,--good-by,--farewell. But -the Landlord can afford to live without privacy. He entertains no -private thought, he cherishes no solitary hour, no Sabbath-day, but -thinks,--enough to assert the dignity of reason,--and talks, and reads -the newspaper. What he does not tell to one traveler he tells to -another. He never wants to be alone, but sleeps, wakes, eats, drinks, -sociably, still remembering his race. He walks abroad through the -thoughts of men, and the Iliad and Shakespeare are tame to him, who -hears the rude but homely incidents of the road from every traveler. -The mail might drive through his brain in the midst of his most lonely -soliloquy without disturbing his equanimity, provided it brought -plenty of news and passengers. There can be no _pro_fanity where there -is no fane behind, and the whole world may see quite round him. -Perchance his lines have fallen to him in dustier places, and he has -heroically sat down where two roads meet, or at the Four Corners or -the Five Points, and his life is sublimely trivial for the good of -men. The dust of travel blows ever in his eyes, and they preserve -their clear, complacent look. The hourlies and half-hourlies, the -dailies and weeklies, whirl on well-worn tracks, round and round his -house, as if it were the goal in the stadium, and still he sits within -in unruffled serenity, with no show of retreat. His neighbor dwells -timidly behind a screen of poplars and willows, and a fence with -sheaves of spears at regular intervals, or defended against the tender -palms of visitors by sharp spikes,--but the traveler's wheels rattle -over the door-step of the tavern, and he cracks his whip in the entry. -He is truly glad to see you, and sincere as the bull's-eye over his -door. The traveler seeks to find, wherever he goes, some one who will -stand in this broad and catholic relation to him, who will be an -inhabitant of the land to him a stranger, and represent its human -nature, as the rock stands for its inanimate nature; and this is he. -As his crib furnishes provender for the traveler's horse, and his -larder provisions for his appetite, so his conversation furnishes the -necessary aliment to his spirits. He knows very well what a man wants, -for he is a man himself, and as it were the farthest-traveled, though -he has never stirred from his door. He understands his needs and -destiny. He would be well fed and lodged, there can be no doubt, and -have the transient sympathy of a cheerful companion, and of a heart -which always prophesies fair weather. And after all the greatest men, -even, want much more the sympathy which every honest fellow can give, -than that which the great only can impart. If he is not the most -upright, let us allow him this praise, that he is the most downright -of men. He has a hand to shake and to be shaken, and takes a sturdy -and unquestionable interest in you, as if he had assumed the care of -you, but if you will break your neck, he will even give you the best -advice as to the method. - -The great poets have not been ungrateful to their landlords. Mine host -of the Tabard Inn, in the Prologue to the Canterbury Tales, was an -honor to his profession:-- - - "A semely man our Hoste was, with alle, - For to han been a marshal in an halle. - A large man he was, with eyen stepe; - A fairer burgeis was ther non in Chepe: - Bold of his speche, and wise, and well ytaught, - And of manhood him lacked righte naught. - Eke thereto was he right a mery man, - And after souper plaien he began, - And spake of mirthe amonges other thinges, - Whan that we hadden made our reckoninges." - -He is the true house-band, and centre of the company,--of greater -fellowship and practical social talent than any. He it is that -proposes that each shall tell a tale to while away the time to -Canterbury, and leads them himself, and concludes with his own tale,-- - - "Now, by my fader's soule that is ded, - But ye be mery, smiteth of my hed: - Hold up your hondes withouten more speche." - -If we do not look up to the Landlord, we look round for him on all -emergencies, for he is a man of infinite experience, who unites hands -with wit. He is a more public character than a statesman,--a publican, -and not consequently a sinner; and surely, he, if any, should be -exempted from taxation and military duty. - -Talking with our host is next best and instructive to talking with -one's self. It is a more conscious soliloquy; as it were, to speak -generally, and try what we would say provided we had an audience. He -has indulgent and open ears, and does not require petty and particular -statements. "Heigh-ho!" exclaims the traveler. Them's my sentiments, -thinks mine host, and stands ready for what may come next, expressing -the purest sympathy by his demeanor. "Hot as blazes!" says the other. -"Hard weather, sir,--not much stirring nowadays," says he. He is wiser -than to contradict his guest in any case; he lets him go on; he lets -him travel. - -The latest sitter leaves him standing far in the night, prepared to -live right on, while suns rise and set, and his "good-night" has as -brisk a sound as his "good-morning;" and the earliest riser finds him -tasting his liquors in the bar ere flies begin to buzz, with a -countenance fresh as the morning star over the sanded floor,--and not -as one who had watched all night for travelers. And yet, if beds be -the subject of conversation, it will appear that no man has been a -sounder sleeper in his time. - -Finally, as for his moral character, we do not hesitate to say that he -has no grain of vice or meanness in him, but represents just that -degree of virtue which all men relish without being obliged to -respect. He is a good man, as his bitters are good,--an unquestionable -goodness. Not what is called a good man,--good to be considered, as a -work of art in galleries and museums,--but a good fellow, that is, -good to be associated with. Who ever thought of the religion of an -innkeeper,--whether he was joined to the Church, partook of the -sacrament, said his prayers, feared God, or the like? No doubt he has -had his experiences, has felt a change, and is a firm believer in the -perseverance of the saints. In this last, we suspect, does the -peculiarity of his religion consist. But he keeps an inn, and not a -conscience. How many fragrant charities and sincere social virtues are -implied in this daily offering of himself to the public! He cherishes -good-will to all, and gives the wayfarer as good and honest advice to -direct him on his road as the priest. - -To conclude, the tavern will compare favorably with the church. The -church is the place where prayers and sermons are delivered, but the -tavern is where they are to take effect, and if the former are good, -the latter cannot be bad. - - - - -A WINTER WALK - - -The wind has gently murmured through the blinds, or puffed with -feathery softness against the windows, and occasionally sighed like a -summer zephyr lifting the leaves along, the livelong night. The meadow -mouse has slept in his snug gallery in the sod, the owl has sat in a -hollow tree in the depth of the swamp, the rabbit, the squirrel, and -the fox have all been housed. The watch-dog has lain quiet on the -hearth, and the cattle have stood silent in their stalls. The earth -itself has slept, as it were its first, not its last sleep, save when -some street-sign or wood-house door has faintly creaked upon its -hinge, cheering forlorn nature at her midnight work,--the only sound -awake 'twixt Venus and Mars,--advertising us of a remote inward -warmth, a divine cheer and fellowship, where gods are met together, -but where it is very bleak for men to stand. But while the earth has -slumbered, all the air has been alive with feathery flakes descending, -as if some northern Ceres reigned, showering her silvery grain over -all the fields. - -We sleep, and at length awake to the still reality of a winter -morning. The snow lies warm as cotton or down upon the window-sill; -the broadened sash and frosted panes admit a dim and private light, -which enhances the snug cheer within. The stillness of the morning is -impressive. The floor creaks under our feet as we move toward the -window to look abroad through some clear space over the fields. We -see the roofs stand under their snow burden. From the eaves and fences -hang stalactites of snow, and in the yard stand stalagmites covering -some concealed core. The trees and shrubs rear white arms to the sky -on every side; and where were walls and fences, we see fantastic forms -stretching in frolic gambols across the dusky landscape, as if Nature -had strewn her fresh designs over the fields by night as models for -man's art. - -Silently we unlatch the door, letting the drift fall in, and step -abroad to face the cutting air. Already the stars have lost some of -their sparkle, and a dull, leaden mist skirts the horizon. A lurid -brazen light in the east proclaims the approach of day, while the -western landscape is dim and spectral still, and clothed in a sombre -Tartarean light, like the shadowy realms. They are Infernal sounds -only that you hear,--the crowing of cocks, the barking of dogs, the -chopping of wood, the lowing of kine, all seem to come from Pluto's -barnyard and beyond the Styx,--not for any melancholy they suggest, -but their twilight bustle is too solemn and mysterious for earth. The -recent tracks of the fox or otter, in the yard, remind us that each -hour of the night is crowded with events, and the primeval nature is -still working and making tracks in the snow. Opening the gate, we -tread briskly along the lone country road, crunching the dry and -crisped snow under our feet, or aroused by the sharp, clear creak of -the wood-sled, just starting for the distant market, from the early -farmer's door, where it has lain the summer long, dreaming amid the -chips and stubble; while far through the drifts and powdered windows -we see the farmer's early candle, like a paled star, emitting a lonely -beam, as if some severe virtue were at its matins there. And one by -one the smokes begin to ascend from the chimneys amid the trees and -snows. - - The sluggish smoke curls up from some deep dell, - The stiffened air exploring in the dawn, - And making slow acquaintance with the day - Delaying now upon its heavenward course, - In wreathed loiterings dallying with itself, - With as uncertain purpose and slow deed - As its half-wakened master by the hearth, - Whose mind still slumbering and sluggish thoughts - Have not yet swept into the onward current - Of the new day;--and now it streams afar, - The while the chopper goes with step direct, - And mind intent to swing the early axe. - First in the dusky dawn he sends abroad - His early scout, his emissary, smoke, - The earliest, latest pilgrim from the roof, - To feel the frosty air, inform the day; - And while he crouches still beside the hearth, - Nor musters courage to unbar the door, - It has gone down the glen with the light wind, - And o'er the plain unfurled its venturous wreath, - Draped the tree-tops, loitered upon the hill, - And warmed the pinions of the early bird; - And now, perchance, high in the crispy air, - Has caught sight of the day o'er the earth's edge, - And greets its master's eye at his low door, - As some refulgent cloud in the upper sky. - -We hear the sound of wood-chopping at the farmers' doors, far over the -frozen earth, the baying of the house-dog, and the distant clarion of -the cock,--though the thin and frosty air conveys only the finer -particles of sound to our ears, with short and sweet vibrations, as -the waves subside soonest on the purest and lightest liquids, in which -gross substances sink to the bottom. They come clear and bell-like, -and from a greater distance in the horizon, as if there were fewer -impediments than in summer to make them faint and ragged. The ground -is sonorous, like seasoned wood, and even the ordinary rural sounds -are melodious, and the jingling of the ice on the trees is sweet and -liquid. There is the least possible moisture in the atmosphere, all -being dried up or congealed, and it is of such extreme tenuity and -elasticity that it becomes a source of delight. The withdrawn and -tense sky seems groined like the aisles of a cathedral, and the -polished air sparkles as if there were crystals of ice floating in it. -As they who have resided in Greenland tell us that when it freezes -"the sea smokes like burning turf-land, and a fog or mist arises, -called frost-smoke," which "cutting smoke frequently raises blisters -on the face and hands, and is very pernicious to the health." But this -pure, stinging cold is an elixir to the lungs, and not so much a -frozen mist as a crystallized midsummer haze, refined and purified by -cold. - -The sun at length rises through the distant woods, as if with the -faint clashing, swinging sound of cymbals, melting the air with his -beams, and with such rapid steps the morning travels, that already his -rays are gilding the distant western mountains. Meanwhile we step -hastily along through the powdery snow, warmed by an inward heat, -enjoying an Indian summer still, in the increased glow of thought and -feeling. Probably if our lives were more conformed to nature, we -should not need to defend ourselves against her heats and colds, but -find her our constant nurse and friend, as do plants and quadrupeds. -If our bodies were fed with pure and simple elements, and not with a -stimulating and heating diet, they would afford no more pasture for -cold than a leafless twig, but thrive like the trees, which find even -winter genial to their expansion. - -The wonderful purity of nature at this season is a most pleasing fact. -Every decayed stump and moss-grown stone and rail, and the dead leaves -of autumn, are concealed by a clean napkin of snow. In the bare fields -and tinkling woods, see what virtue survives. In the coldest and -bleakest places, the warmest charities still maintain a foothold. A -cold and searching wind drives away all contagion, and nothing can -withstand it but what has a virtue in it, and accordingly, whatever we -meet with in cold and bleak places, as the tops of mountains, we -respect for a sort of sturdy innocence, a Puritan toughness. All -things beside seem to be called in for shelter, and what stays out -must be part of the original frame of the universe, and of such valor -as God himself. It is invigorating to breathe the cleansed air. Its -greater fineness and purity are visible to the eye, and we would fain -stay out long and late, that the gales may sigh through us, too, as -through the leafless trees, and fit us for the winter,--as if we hoped -so to borrow some pure and steadfast virtue, which will stead us in -all seasons. - -There is a slumbering subterranean fire in nature which never goes -out, and which no cold can chill. It finally melts the great snow, -and in January or July is only buried under a thicker or thinner -covering. In the coldest day it flows somewhere, and the snow melts -around every tree. This field of winter rye, which sprouted late in -the fall, and now speedily dissolves the snow, is where the fire is -very thinly covered. We feel warmed by it. In the winter, warmth -stands for all virtue, and we resort in thought to a trickling rill, -with its bare stones shining in the sun, and to warm springs in the -woods, with as much eagerness as rabbits and robins. The steam which -rises from swamps and pools is as dear and domestic as that of our own -kettle. What fire could ever equal the sunshine of a winter's day, -when the meadow mice come out by the wall-sides, and the chickadee -lisps in the defiles of the wood? The warmth comes directly from the -sun, and is not radiated from the earth, as in summer; and when we -feel his beams on our backs as we are treading some snowy dell, we are -grateful as for a special kindness, and bless the sun which has -followed us into that by-place. - -This subterranean fire has its altar in each man's breast; for in the -coldest day, and on the bleakest hill, the traveler cherishes a warmer -fire within the folds of his cloak than is kindled on any hearth. A -healthy man, indeed, is the complement of the seasons, and in winter, -summer is in his heart. There is the south. Thither have all birds and -insects migrated, and around the warm springs in his breast are -gathered the robin and the lark. - -At length, having reached the edge of the woods, and shut out the -gadding town, we enter within their covert as we go under the roof of -a cottage, and cross its threshold, all ceiled and banked up with -snow. They are glad and warm still, and as genial and cheery in winter -as in summer. As we stand in the midst of the pines in the flickering -and checkered light which straggles but little way into their maze, we -wonder if the towns have ever heard their simple story. It seems to us -that no traveler has ever explored them, and notwithstanding the -wonders which science is elsewhere revealing every day, who would not -like to hear their annals? Our humble villages in the plain are their -contribution. We borrow from the forest the boards which shelter and -the sticks which warm us. How important is their evergreen to the -winter, that portion of the summer which does not fade, the permanent -year, the unwithered grass! Thus simply, and with little expense of -altitude, is the surface of the earth diversified. What would human -life be without forests, those natural cities? From the tops of -mountains they appear like smooth-shaven lawns, yet whither shall we -walk but in this taller grass? - -In this glade covered with bushes of a year's growth, see how the -silvery dust lies on every seared leaf and twig, deposited in such -infinite and luxurious forms as by their very variety atone for the -absence of color. Observe the tiny tracks of mice around every stem, -and the triangular tracks of the rabbit. A pure elastic heaven hangs -over all, as if the impurities of the summer sky, refined and shrunk -by the chaste winter's cold, had been winnowed from the heavens upon -the earth. - -Nature confounds her summer distinctions at this season. The heavens -seem to be nearer the earth. The elements are less reserved and -distinct. Water turns to ice, rain to snow. The day is but a -Scandinavian night. The winter is an arctic summer. - -How much more living is the life that is in nature, the furred life -which still survives the stinging nights, and, from amidst fields and -woods covered with frost and snow, sees the sun rise! - - "The foodless wilds - Pour forth their brown inhabitants." - -The gray squirrel and rabbit are brisk and playful in the remote -glens, even on the morning of the cold Friday. Here is our Lapland and -Labrador, and for our Esquimaux and Knistenaux, Dog-ribbed Indians, -Novazemblaites, and Spitzbergeners, are there not the ice-cutter and -woodchopper, the fox, muskrat, and mink? - -Still, in the midst of the arctic day, we may trace the summer to its -retreats, and sympathize with some contemporary life. Stretched over -the brooks, in the midst of the frost-bound meadows, we may observe -the submarine cottages of the caddis-worms, the larvae of the -Plicipennes; their small cylindrical cases built around themselves, -composed of flags, sticks, grass, and withered leaves, shells, and -pebbles, in form and color like the wrecks which strew the -bottom,--now drifting along over the pebbly bottom, now whirling in -tiny eddies and dashing down steep falls, or sweeping rapidly along -with the current, or else swaying to and fro at the end of some -grass-blade or root. Anon they will leave their sunken habitations, -and, crawling up the stems of plants, or to the surface, like gnats, -as perfect insects henceforth, flutter over the surface of the water, -or sacrifice their short lives in the flame of our candles at evening. -Down yonder little glen the shrubs are drooping under their burden, -and the red alderberries contrast with the white ground. Here are the -marks of a myriad feet which have already been abroad. The sun rises -as proudly over such a glen as over the valley of the Seine or the -Tiber, and it seems the residence of a pure and self-subsistent valor, -such as they never witnessed,--which never knew defeat nor fear. Here -reign the simplicity and purity of a primitive age, and a health and -hope far remote from towns and cities. Standing quite alone, far in -the forest, while the wind is shaking down snow from the trees, and -leaving the only human tracks behind us, we find our reflections of a -richer variety than the life of cities. The chickadee and nuthatch are -more inspiring society than statesmen and philosophers, and we shall -return to these last as to more vulgar companions. In this lonely -glen, with its brook draining the slopes, its creased ice and crystals -of all hues, where the spruces and hemlocks stand up on either side, -and the rush and sere wild oats in the rivulet itself, our lives are -more serene and worthy to contemplate. - -As the day advances, the heat of the sun is reflected by the -hillsides, and we hear a faint but sweet music, where flows the rill -released from its fetters, and the icicles are melting on the trees; -and the nuthatch and partridge are heard and seen. The south wind -melts the snow at noon, and the bare ground appears with its withered -grass and leaves, and we are invigorated by the perfume which exhales -from it, as by the scent of strong meats. - -Let us go into this deserted woodman's hut, and see how he has passed -the long winter nights and the short and stormy days. For here man has -lived under this south hillside, and it seems a civilized and public -spot. We have such associations as when the traveler stands by the -ruins of Palmyra or Hecatompolis. Singing birds and flowers perchance -have begun to appear here, for flowers as well as weeds follow in the -footsteps of man. These hemlocks whispered over his head, these -hickory logs were his fuel, and these pitch pine roots kindled his -fire; yonder fuming rill in the hollow, whose thin and airy vapor -still ascends as busily as ever, though he is far off now, was his -well. These hemlock boughs, and the straw upon this raised platform, -were his bed, and this broken dish held his drink. But he has not been -here this season, for the phoebes built their nest upon this shelf -last summer. I find some embers left as if he had but just gone out, -where he baked his pot of beans; and while at evening he smoked his -pipe, whose stemless bowl lies in the ashes, chatted with his only -companion, if perchance he had any, about the depth of the snow on the -morrow, already falling fast and thick without, or disputed whether -the last sound was the screech of an owl, or the creak of a bough, or -imagination only; and through his broad chimney-throat, in the late -winter evening, ere he stretched himself upon the straw, he looked up -to learn the progress of the storm, and, seeing the bright stars of -Cassiopeia's Chair shining brightly down upon him, fell contentedly -asleep. - -See how many traces from which we may learn the chopper's history! -From this stump we may guess the sharpness of his axe, and from the -slope of the stroke, on which side he stood, and whether he cut down -the tree without going round it or changing hands; and, from the -flexure of the splinters, we may know which way it fell. This one chip -contains inscribed on it the whole history of the woodchopper and of -the world. On this scrap of paper, which held his sugar or salt, -perchance, or was the wadding of his gun, sitting on a log in the -forest, with what interest we read the tattle of cities, of those -larger huts, empty and to let, like this, in High Streets and -Broadways. The eaves are dripping on the south side of this simple -roof, while the titmouse lisps in the pine and the genial warmth of -the sun around the door is somewhat kind and human. - -After two seasons, this rude dwelling does not deform the scene. -Already the birds resort to it, to build their nests, and you may -track to its door the feet of many quadrupeds. Thus, for a long time, -nature overlooks the encroachment and profanity of man. The wood still -cheerfully and unsuspiciously echoes the strokes of the axe that fells -it, and while they are few and seldom, they enhance its wildness, and -all the elements strive to naturalize the sound. - -Now our path begins to ascend gradually to the top of this high hill, -from whose precipitous south side we can look over the broad country -of forest and field and river, to the distant snowy mountains. See -yonder thin column of smoke curling up through the woods from some -invisible farmhouse, the standard raised over some rural homestead. -There must be a warmer and more genial spot there below, as where we -detect the vapor from a spring forming a cloud above the trees. What -fine relations are established between the traveler who discovers this -airy column from some eminence in the forest and him who sits below! -Up goes the smoke as silently and naturally as the vapor exhales from -the leaves, and as busy disposing itself in wreaths as the housewife -on the hearth below. It is a hieroglyphic of man's life, and suggests -more intimate and important things than the boiling of a pot. Where -its fine column rises above the forest, like an ensign, some human -life has planted itself,--and such is the beginning of Rome, the -establishment of the arts, and the foundation of empires, whether on -the prairies of America or the steppes of Asia. - -And now we descend again, to the brink of this woodland lake, which -lies in a hollow of the hills, as if it were their expressed juice, -and that of the leaves which are annually steeped in it. Without -outlet or inlet to the eye, it has still its history, in the lapse of -its waves, in the rounded pebbles on its shore, and in the pines which -grow down to its brink. It has not been idle, though sedentary, but, -like Abu Musa, teaches that "sitting still at home is the heavenly -way; the going out is the way of the world." Yet in its evaporation it -travels as far as any. In summer it is the earth's liquid eye, a -mirror in the breast of nature. The sins of the wood are washed out -in it. See how the woods form an amphitheatre about it, and it is an -arena for all the genialness of nature. All trees direct the traveler -to its brink, all paths seek it out, birds fly to it, quadrupeds flee -to it, and the very ground inclines toward it. It is nature's saloon, -where she has sat down to her toilet. Consider her silent economy and -tidiness; how the sun comes with his evaporation to sweep the dust -from its surface each morning, and a fresh surface is constantly -welling up; and annually, after whatever impurities have accumulated -herein, its liquid transparency appears again in the spring. In summer -a hushed music seems to sweep across its surface. But now a plain -sheet of snow conceals it from our eyes, except where the wind has -swept the ice bare, and the sere leaves are gliding from side to side, -tacking and veering on their tiny voyages. Here is one just keeled up -against a pebble on shore, a dry beech leaf, rocking still, as if it -would start again. A skillful engineer, methinks, might project its -course since it fell from the parent stem. Here are all the elements -for such a calculation. Its present position, the direction of the -wind, the level of the pond, and how much more is given. In its -scarred edges and veins is its log rolled up. - -We fancy ourselves in the interior of a larger house. The surface of -the pond is our deal table or sanded floor, and the woods rise -abruptly from its edge, like the walls of a cottage. The lines set to -catch pickerel through the ice look like a larger culinary -preparation, and the men stand about on the white ground like pieces -of forest furniture. The actions of these men, at the distance of -half a mile over the ice and snow, impress us as when we read the -exploits of Alexander in history. They seem not unworthy of the -scenery, and as momentous as the conquest of kingdoms. - -Again we have wandered through the arches of the wood, until from its -skirts we hear the distant booming of ice from yonder bay of the -river, as if it were moved by some other and subtler tide than oceans -know. To me it has a strange sound of home, thrilling as the voice of -one's distant and noble kindred. A mild summer sun shines over forest -and lake, and though there is but one green leaf for many rods, yet -nature enjoys a serene health. Every sound is fraught with the same -mysterious assurance of health, as well now the creaking of the boughs -in January, as the soft sough of the wind in July. - - When Winter fringes every bough - With his fantastic wreath, - And puts the seal of silence now - Upon the leaves beneath; - - When every stream in its penthouse - Goes gurgling on its way, - And in his gallery the mouse - Nibbleth the meadow hay; - - Methinks the summer still is nigh, - And lurketh underneath, - As that same meadow mouse doth lie - Snug in that last year's heath. - - And if perchance the chickadee - Lisp a faint note anon, - The snow is summer's canopy, - Which she herself put on. - - Fair blossoms deck the cheerful trees, - And dazzling fruits depend; - The north wind sighs a summer breeze, - The nipping frosts to fend, - - Bringing glad tidings unto me, - The while I stand all ear, - Of a serene eternity, - Which need not winter fear. - - Out on the silent pond straightway - The restless ice doth crack, - And pond sprites merry gambols play - Amid the deafening rack. - - Eager I hasten to the vale, - As if I heard brave news, - How nature held high festival, - Which it were hard to lose. - - I gambol with my neighbor ice, - And sympathizing quake, - As each new crack darts in a trice - Across the gladsome lake. - - One with the cricket in the ground, - And fagot on the hearth, - Resounds the rare domestic sound - Along the forest path. - -Before night we will take a journey on skates along the course of this -meandering river, as full of novelty to one who sits by the cottage -fire all the winter's day, as if it were over the polar ice, with -Captain Parry or Franklin; following the winding of the stream, now -flowing amid hills, now spreading out into fair meadows, and forming a -myriad coves and bays where the pine and hemlock overarch. The river -flows in the rear of the towns, and we see all things from a new and -wilder side. The fields and gardens come down to it with a frankness, -and freedom from pretension, which they do not wear on the highway. It -is the outside and edge of the earth. Our eyes are not offended by -violent contrasts. The last rail of the farmer's fence is some swaying -willow bough, which still preserves its freshness, and here at length -all fences stop, and we no longer cross any road. We may go far up -within the country now by the most retired and level road, never -climbing a hill, but by broad levels ascending to the upland meadows. -It is a beautiful illustration of the law of obedience, the flow of a -river; the path for a sick man, a highway down which an acorn cup may -float secure with its freight. Its slight occasional falls, whose -precipices would not diversify the landscape, are celebrated by mist -and spray, and attract the traveler from far and near. From the remote -interior, its current conducts him by broad and easy steps, or by one -gentler inclined plane, to the sea. Thus by an early and constant -yielding to the inequalities of the ground it secures itself the -easiest passage. - -No domain of nature is quite closed to man at all times, and now we -draw near to the empire of the fishes. Our feet glide swiftly over -unfathomed depths, where in summer our line tempted the pout and -perch, and where the stately pickerel lurked in the long corridors -formed by the bulrushes. The deep, impenetrable marsh, where the heron -waded and bittern squatted, is made pervious to our swift shoes, as if -a thousand railroads had been made into it. With one impulse we are -carried to the cabin of the muskrat, that earliest settler, and see -him dart away under the transparent ice, like a furred fish, to his -hole in the bank; and we glide rapidly over meadows where lately "the -mower whet his scythe," through beds of frozen cranberries mixed with -meadow-grass. We skate near to where the blackbird, the pewee, and the -kingbird hung their nests over the water, and the hornets builded from -the maple in the swamp. How many gay warblers, following the sun, have -radiated from this nest of silver birch and thistle-down! On the -swamp's outer edge was hung the supermarine village, where no foot -penetrated. In this hollow tree the wood duck reared her brood, and -slid away each day to forage in yonder fen. - -In winter, nature is a cabinet of curiosities, full of dried -specimens, in their natural order and position. The meadows and -forests are a _hortus siccus_. The leaves and grasses stand perfectly -pressed by the air without screw or gum, and the birds' nests are not -hung on an artificial twig, but where they builded them. We go about -dry-shod to inspect the summer's work in the rank swamp, and see what -a growth have got the alders, the willows, and the maples; testifying -to how many warm suns, and fertilizing dews and showers. See what -strides their boughs took in the luxuriant summer,--and anon these -dormant buds will carry them onward and upward another span into the -heavens. - -Occasionally we wade through fields of snow, under whose depths the -river is lost for many rods, to appear again to the right or left, -where we least expected; still holding on its way underneath, with a -faint, stertorous, rumbling sound, as if, like the bear and marmot, -it too had hibernated, and we had followed its faint summer trail to -where it earthed itself in snow and ice. At first we should have -thought that rivers would be empty and dry in midwinter, or else -frozen solid till the spring thawed them; but their volume is not -diminished even, for only a superficial cold bridges their surfaces. -The thousand springs which feed the lakes and streams are flowing -still. The issues of a few surface springs only are closed, and they -go to swell the deep reservoirs. Nature's wells are below the frost. -The summer brooks are not filled with snow-water, nor does the mower -quench his thirst with that alone. The streams are swollen when the -snow melts in the spring, because nature's work has been delayed, the -water being turned into ice and snow, whose particles are less smooth -and round, and do not find their level so soon. - -Far over the ice, between the hemlock woods and snow-clad hills, -stands the pickerel-fisher, his lines set in some retired cove, like a -Finlander, with his arms thrust into the pouches of his dreadnaught; -with dull, snowy, fishy thoughts, himself a finless fish, separated a -few inches from his race; dumb, erect, and made to be enveloped in -clouds and snows, like the pines on shore. In these wild scenes, men -stand about in the scenery, or move deliberately and heavily, having -sacrificed the sprightliness and vivacity of towns to the dumb -sobriety of nature. He does not make the scenery less wild, more than -the jays and muskrats, but stands there as a part of it, as the -natives are represented in the voyages of early navigators, at Nootka -Sound, and on the Northwest coast, with their furs about them, before -they were tempted to loquacity by a scrap of iron. He belongs to the -natural family of man, and is planted deeper in nature and has more -root than the inhabitants of towns. Go to him, ask what luck, and you -will learn that he too is a worshiper of the unseen. Hear with what -sincere deference and waving gesture in his tone he speaks of the lake -pickerel, which he has never seen, his primitive and ideal race of -pickerel. He is connected with the shore still, as by a fish-line, and -yet remembers the season when he took fish through the ice on the -pond, while the peas were up in his garden at home. - -But now, while we have loitered, the clouds have gathered again, and a -few straggling snowflakes are beginning to descend. Faster and faster -they fall, shutting out the distant objects from sight. The snow falls -on every wood and field, and no crevice is forgotten; by the river and -the pond, on the hill and in the valley. Quadrupeds are confined to -their coverts and the birds sit upon their perches this peaceful hour. -There is not so much sound as in fair weather, but silently and -gradually every slope, and the gray walls and fences, and the polished -ice, and the sere leaves, which were not buried before, are concealed, -and the tracks of men and beasts are lost. With so little effort does -nature reassert her rule and blot out the traces of men. Hear how -Homer has described the same: "The snowflakes fall thick and fast on a -winter's day. The winds are lulled, and the snow falls incessant, -covering the tops of the mountains, and the hills, and the plains -where the lotus-tree grows, and the cultivated fields, and they are -falling by the inlets and shores of the foaming sea, but are silently -dissolved by the waves." The snow levels all things, and infolds them -deeper in the bosom of nature, as, in the slow summer, vegetation -creeps up to the entablature of the temple, and the turrets of the -castle, and helps her to prevail over art. - -The surly night-wind rustles through the wood, and warns us to retrace -our steps, while the sun goes down behind the thickening storm, and -birds seek their roosts, and cattle their stalls. - - "Drooping the lab'rer ox - Stands covered o'er with snow, and _now_ demands - The fruit of all his toil." - -Though winter is represented in the almanac as an old man, facing the -wind and sleet, and drawing his cloak about him, we rather think of -him as a merry woodchopper, and warm-blooded youth, as blithe as -summer. The unexplored grandeur of the storm keeps up the spirits of -the traveler. It does not trifle with us, but has a sweet earnestness. -In winter we lead a more inward life. Our hearts are warm and cheery, -like cottages under drifts, whose windows and doors are half -concealed, but from whose chimneys the smoke cheerfully ascends. The -imprisoning drifts increase the sense of comfort which the house -affords, and in the coldest days we are content to sit over the hearth -and see the sky through the chimney-top, enjoying the quiet and serene -life that may be had in a warm corner by the chimney-side, or feeling -our pulse by listening to the low of cattle in the street, or the -sound of the flail in distant barns all the long afternoon. No doubt a -skillful physician could determine our health by observing how these -simple and natural sounds affected us. We enjoy now, not an Oriental, -but a Boreal leisure, around warm stoves and fireplaces, and watch the -shadow of motes in the sunbeams. - -Sometimes our fate grows too homely and familiarly serious ever to be -cruel. Consider how for three months the human destiny is wrapped in -furs. The good Hebrew Revelation takes no cognizance of all this -cheerful snow. Is there no religion for the temperate and frigid -zones? We know of no scripture which records the pure benignity of the -gods on a New England winter night. Their praises have never been -sung, only their wrath deprecated. The best scripture, after all, -records but a meagre faith. Its saints live reserved and austere. Let -a brave, devout man spend the year in the woods of Maine or Labrador, -and see if the Hebrew Scriptures speak adequately to his condition and -experience, from the setting in of winter to the breaking up of the -ice. - -Now commences the long winter evening around the farmer's hearth, when -the thoughts of the indwellers travel far abroad, and men are by -nature and necessity charitable and liberal to all creatures. Now is -the happy resistance to cold, when the farmer reaps his reward, and -thinks of his preparedness for winter, and, through the glittering -panes, sees with equanimity "the mansion of the northern bear," for -now the storm is over,-- - - "The full ethereal round, - Infinite worlds disclosing to the view, - Shines out intensely keen; and all one cope - Of starry glitter glows from pole to pole." - - - - -THE SUCCESSION OF FOREST TREES[6] - - -Every man is entitled to come to Cattle-Show, even a -transcendentalist; and for my part I am more interested in the men -than in the cattle. I wish to see once more those old familiar faces, -whose names I do not know, which for me represent the Middlesex -country, and come as near being indigenous to the soil as a white man -can; the men who are not above their business, whose coats are not too -black, whose shoes do not shine very much, who never wear gloves to -conceal their hands. It is true, there are some queer specimens of -humanity attracted to our festival, but all are welcome. I am pretty -sure to meet once more that weak-minded and whimsical fellow, -generally weak-bodied too, who prefers a crooked stick for a cane; -perfectly useless, you would say, only _bizarre_, fit for a cabinet, -like a petrified snake. A ram's horn would be as convenient, and is -yet more curiously twisted. He brings that much indulged bit of the -country with him, from some town's end or other, and introduces it to -Concord groves, as if he had promised it so much sometime. So some, it -seems to me, elect their rulers for their crookedness. But I think -that a straight stick makes the best cane, and an upright man the best -ruler. Or why choose a man to do plain work who is distinguished for -his oddity? However, I do not know but you will think that they have -committed this mistake who invited me to speak to you to-day. - -In my capacity of surveyor, I have often talked with some of you, my -employers, at your dinner-tables, after having gone round and round -and behind your farming, and ascertained exactly what its limits were. -Moreover, taking a surveyor's and a naturalist's liberty, I have been -in the habit of going across your lots much oftener than is usual, as -many of you, perhaps to your sorrow, are aware. Yet many of you, to my -relief, have seemed not to be aware of it; and, when I came across you -in some out-of-the-way nook of your farms, have inquired, with an air -of surprise, if I were not lost, since you had never seen me in that -part of the town or county before; when, if the truth were known, and -it had not been for betraying my secret, I might with more propriety -have inquired if _you_ were not lost, since I had never seen _you_ -there before. I have several times shown the proprietor the shortest -way out of his wood-lot. - -Therefore, it would seem that I have some title to speak to you -to-day; and considering what that title is, and the occasion that has -called us together, I need offer no apology if I invite your -attention, for the few moments that are allotted me, to a purely -scientific subject. - -At those dinner-tables referred to, I have often been asked, as many -of you have been, if I could tell how it happened, that when a pine -wood was cut down an oak one commonly sprang up, and _vice versa_. To -which I have answered, and now answer, that I can tell,--that it is no -mystery to me. As I am not aware that this has been clearly shown by -any one, I shall lay the more stress on this point. Let me lead you -back into your wood-lots again. - -When, hereabouts, a single forest tree or a forest springs up -naturally where none of its kind grew before, I do not hesitate to -say, though in some quarters still it may sound paradoxical, that it -came from a seed. Of the various ways by which trees are _known_ to be -propagated,--by transplanting, cuttings, and the like,--this is the -only supposable one under these circumstances. No such tree has ever -been known to spring from anything else. If any one asserts that it -sprang from something else, or from nothing, the burden of proof lies -with him. - -It remains, then, only to show how the seed is transported from where -it grows to where it is planted. This is done chiefly by the agency of -the wind, water, and animals. The lighter seeds, as those of pines and -maples, are transported chiefly by wind and water; the heavier, as -acorns and nuts, by animals. - -In all the pines, a very thin membrane, in appearance much like an -insect's wing, grows over and around the seed, and independent of it, -while the latter is being developed within its base. Indeed this is -often perfectly developed, though the seed is abortive; nature being, -you would say, more sure to provide the means of transporting the -seed, than to provide the seed to be transported. In other words, a -beautiful thin sack is woven around the seed, with a handle to it such -as the wind can take hold of, and it is then committed to the wind, -expressly that it may transport the seed and extend the range of the -species; and this it does, as effectually as when seeds are sent by -mail in a different kind of sack from the Patent Office. There is a -patent office at the seat of government of the universe, whose -managers are as much interested in the dispersion of seeds as anybody -at Washington can be, and their operations are infinitely more -extensive and regular. - -There is, then, no necessity for supposing that the pines have sprung -up from nothing, and I am aware that I am not at all peculiar in -asserting that they come from seeds, though the mode of their -propagation _by nature_ has been but little attended to. They are very -extensively raised from the seed in Europe, and are beginning to be -here. - -When you cut down an oak wood, a pine wood will not _at once_ spring -up there unless there are, or have been quite recently, seed-bearing -pines near enough for the seeds to be blown from them. But, adjacent -to a forest of pines, if you prevent other crops from growing there, -you will surely have an extension of your pine forest, provided the -soil is suitable. - -As for the heavy seeds and nuts which are not furnished with wings, -the notion is still a very common one that, when the trees which bear -these spring up where none of their kind were noticed before, they -have come from seeds or other principles spontaneously generated there -in an unusual manner, or which have lain dormant in the soil for -centuries, or perhaps been called into activity by the heat of a -burning. I do not believe these assertions, and I will state some of -the ways in which, according to my observation, such forests are -planted and raised. - -Every one of these seeds, too, will be found to be winged or legged in -another fashion. Surely it is not wonderful that cherry trees of all -kinds are widely dispersed, since their fruit is well known to be the -favorite food of various birds. Many kinds are called bird cherries, -and they appropriate many more kinds, which are not so called. Eating -cherries is a bird-like employment, and unless we disperse the seeds -occasionally, as they do, I shall think that the birds have the best -right to them. See how artfully the seed of a cherry is placed in -order that a bird may be compelled to transport it,--in the very midst -of a tempting pericarp, so that the creature that would devour this -must commonly take the stone also into its mouth or bill. If you ever -ate a cherry, and did not make two bites of it, you must have -perceived it,--right in the centre of the luscious morsel, a large -earthy residuum left on the tongue. We thus take into our mouths -cherry-stones as big as peas, a dozen at once, for Nature can persuade -us to do almost anything when she would compass her ends. Some wild -men and children instinctively swallow these, as the birds do when in -a hurry, it being the shortest way to get rid of them. Thus, though -these seeds are not provided with vegetable wings, Nature has impelled -the thrush tribe to take them into their bills and fly away with them; -and they are winged in another sense, and more effectually than the -seeds of pines, for these are carried even against the wind. The -consequence is, that cherry trees grow not only here but there. The -same is true of a great many other seeds. - -But to come to the observation which suggested these remarks. As I -have said, I suspect that I can throw some light on the fact that when -hereabouts a dense pine wood is cut down, oaks and other hard woods -may at once take its place. I have got only to show that the acorns -and nuts, provided they are grown in the neighborhood, are regularly -planted in such woods; for I assert that if an oak tree has not grown -within ten miles, and man has not carried acorns thither, then an oak -wood will not spring up _at once_, when a pine wood is cut down. - -Apparently, there were only pines there before. They are cut off, and -after a year or two you see oaks and other hard woods springing up -there, with scarcely a pine amid them, and the wonder commonly is, how -the seed could have lain in the ground so long without decaying. But -the truth is, that it has not lain in the ground so long, but is -regularly planted each year by various quadrupeds and birds. - -In this neighborhood, where oaks and pines are about equally -dispersed, if you look through the thickest pine wood, even the -seemingly unmixed pitch pine ones, you will commonly detect many -little oaks, birches, and other hard woods, sprung from seeds carried -into the thicket by squirrels and other animals, and also blown -thither, but which are overshadowed and choked by the pines. The -denser the evergreen wood, the more likely it is to be well planted -with these seeds, because the planters incline to resort with their -forage to the closest covert. They also carry it into birch and other -woods. This planting is carried on annually, and the oldest seedlings -annually die; but when the pines are cleared off, the oaks, having got -just the start they want, and now secured favorable conditions, -immediately spring up to trees. - -The shade of a dense pine wood is more unfavorable to the springing up -of pines of the same species than of oaks within it, though the former -may come up abundantly when the pines are cut, if there chance to be -sound seed in the ground. - -But when you cut off a lot of hard wood, very often the little pines -mixed with it have a similar start, for the squirrels have carried off -the nuts to the pines, and not to the more open wood, and they -commonly make pretty clean work of it; and moreover, if the wood was -old, the sprouts will be feeble or entirely fail; to say nothing about -the soil being, in a measure, exhausted for this kind of crop. - -If a pine wood is surrounded by a white oak one chiefly, white oaks -may be expected to succeed when the pines are cut. If it is surrounded -instead by an edging of shrub oaks, then you will probably have a -dense shrub oak thicket. - -I have no time to go into details, but will say, in a word, that while -the wind is conveying the seeds of pines into hard woods and open -lands, the squirrels and other animals are conveying the seeds of oaks -and walnuts into the pine woods, and thus a rotation of crops is kept -up. - -I affirmed this confidently many years ago, and an occasional -examination of dense pine woods confirmed me in my opinion. It has -long been known to observers that squirrels bury nuts in the ground, -but I am not aware that any one has thus accounted for the regular -succession of forests. - -On the 24th of September, in 1857, as I was paddling down the Assabet, -in this town, I saw a red squirrel run along the bank under some -herbage, with something large in its mouth. It stopped near the foot -of a hemlock, within a couple of rods of me, and, hastily pawing a -hole with its fore feet, dropped its booty into it, covered it up, and -retreated part way up the trunk of the tree. As I approached the shore -to examine the deposit, the squirrel, descending part way, betrayed no -little anxiety about its treasure, and made two or three motions to -recover it before it finally retreated. Digging there, I found two -green pignuts joined together, with the thick husks on, buried about -an inch and a half under the reddish soil of decayed hemlock -leaves,--just the right depth to plant it. In short, this squirrel was -then engaged in accomplishing two objects, to wit, laying up a store -of winter food for itself, and planting a hickory wood for all -creation. If the squirrel was killed, or neglected its deposit, a -hickory would spring up. The nearest hickory tree was twenty rods -distant. These nuts were there still just fourteen days later, but -were gone when I looked again, November 21st, or six weeks later -still. - -I have since examined more carefully several dense woods, which are -said to be, and are apparently, exclusively pine, and always with the -same result. For instance, I walked the same day to a small but very -dense and handsome white pine grove, about fifteen rods square, in the -east part of this town. The trees are large for Concord, being from -ten to twenty inches in diameter, and as exclusively pine as any wood -that I know. Indeed, I selected this wood because I thought it the -least likely to contain anything else. It stands on an open plain or -pasture, except that it adjoins another small pine wood, which has a -few little oaks in it, on the southeast side. On every other side, it -was at least thirty rods from the nearest woods. Standing on the edge -of this grove and looking through it, for it is quite level and free -from underwood, for the most part bare, red-carpeted ground, you would -have said that there was not a hardwood tree in it, young or old. But -on looking carefully along over its floor I discovered, though it was -not till my eye had got used to the search, that, alternating with -thin ferns, and small blueberry bushes, there was, not merely here and -there, but as often as every five feet and with a degree of -regularity, a little oak, from three to twelve inches high, and in one -place I found a green acorn dropped by the base of a pine. - -I confess I was surprised to find my theory so perfectly proved in -this case. One of the principal agents in this planting, the red -squirrels, were all the while curiously inspecting me, while I was -inspecting their plantation. Some of the little oaks had been browsed -by cows, which resorted to this wood for shade. - -After seven or eight years, the hard woods evidently find such a -locality unfavorable to their growth, the pines being allowed to -stand. As an evidence of this, I observed a diseased red maple -twenty-five feet long, which had been recently prostrated, though it -was still covered with green leaves, the only maple in any position in -the wood. - -But although these oaks almost invariably die if the pines are not cut -down, it is probable that they do better for a few years under their -shelter than they would anywhere else. - -The very extensive and thorough experiments of the English have at -length led them to adopt a method of raising oaks almost precisely -like this which somewhat earlier had been adopted by Nature and her -squirrels here; they have simply rediscovered the value of pines as -nurses for oaks. The English experimenters seem, early and generally, -to have found out the importance of using trees of some kind as -nurse-plants for the young oaks. I quote from Loudon what he describes -as "the ultimatum on the subject of planting and sheltering -oaks,"--"an abstract of the practice adopted by the government -officers in the national forests" of England, prepared by Alexander -Milne. - -At first some oaks had been planted by themselves, and others mixed -with Scotch pines; "but in all cases," says Mr. Milne, "where oaks -were planted actually among the pines and surrounded by them [though -the soil might be inferior], the oaks were found to be much the best." -"For several years past, the plan pursued has been to plant the -inclosures with Scotch pines only [a tree very similar to our pitch -pine], and when the pines have got to the height of five or six feet, -then to put in good strong oak plants of about four or five years' -growth among the pines,--not cutting away any pines at first, unless -they happen to be so strong and thick as to overshadow the oaks. In -about two years it becomes necessary to shred the branches of the -pines, to give light and air to the oaks, and in about two or three -more years to begin gradually to remove the pines altogether, taking -out a certain number each year, so that, at the end of twenty or -twenty-five years, not a single Scotch pine shall be left; although, -for the first ten or twelve years, the plantation may have appeared to -contain nothing else but pine. The advantage of this mode of planting -has been found to be that the pines dry and ameliorate the soil, -destroying the coarse grass and brambles which frequently choke and -injure oaks; and that no mending over is necessary, as scarcely an oak -so planted is found to fail." - -Thus much the English planters have discovered by patient experiment, -and, for aught I know, they have taken out a patent for it; but they -appear not to have discovered that it was discovered before, and that -they are merely adopting the method of Nature, which she long ago made -patent to all. She is all the while planting the oaks amid the pines -without our knowledge, and at last, instead of government officers, we -send a party of woodchoppers to cut down the pines, and so rescue an -oak forest, at which we wonder as if it had dropped from the skies. - -As I walk amid hickories, even in August, I hear the sound of green -pignuts falling from time to time, cut off by the chickaree over my -head. In the fall, I notice on the ground, either within or in the -neighborhood of oak woods, on all sides of the town, stout oak twigs -three or four inches long, bearing half a dozen empty acorn-cups, -which twigs have been gnawed off by squirrels, on both sides of the -nuts, in order to make them more portable. The jays scream and the red -squirrels scold while you are clubbing and shaking the chestnut trees, -for they are there on the same errand, and two of a trade never agree. -I frequently see a red or gray squirrel cast down a green chestnut -bur, as I am going through the woods, and I used to think, sometimes, -that they were cast at me. In fact, they are so busy about it, in the -midst of the chestnut season, that you cannot stand long in the woods -without hearing one fall. A sportsman told me that he had, the day -before,--that was in the middle of October,--seen a green chestnut bur -dropped on our great river meadow, fifty rods from the nearest wood, -and much further from the nearest chestnut tree, and he could not tell -how it came there. Occasionally, when chestnutting in midwinter, I -find thirty or forty nuts in a pile, left in its gallery, just under -the leaves, by the common wood mouse (_Mus leucopus_). - -But especially, in the winter, the extent to which this transportation -and planting of nuts is carried on is made apparent by the snow. In -almost every wood, you will see where the red or gray squirrels have -pawed down through the snow in a hundred places, sometimes two feet -deep, and almost always directly to a nut or a pine cone, as directly -as if they had started from it and bored upward,--which you and I -could not have done. It would be difficult for us to find one before -the snow falls. Commonly, no doubt, they had deposited them there in -the fall. You wonder if they remember the localities, or discover them -by the scent. The red squirrel commonly has its winter abode in the -earth under a thicket of evergreens, frequently under a small clump of -evergreens in the midst of a deciduous wood. If there are any nut -trees which still retain their nuts standing at a distance without the -wood, their paths often lead directly to and from them. We therefore -need not suppose an oak standing here and there _in_ the wood in order -to seed it, but if a few stand within twenty or thirty rods of it, it -is sufficient. - -I think that I may venture to say that every white pine cone that -falls to the earth naturally in this town, before opening and losing -its seeds, and almost every pitch pine one that falls at all, is cut -off by a squirrel, and they begin to pluck them long before they are -ripe, so that when the crop of white pine cones is a small one, as it -commonly is, they cut off thus almost every one of these before it -fairly ripens. I think, moreover, that their design, if I may so -speak, in cutting them off green, is, partly, to prevent their opening -and losing their seeds, for these are the ones for which they dig -through the snow, and the only white pine cones which contain anything -then. I have counted in one heap, within a diameter of four feet, the -cores of 239 pitch pine cones which had been cut off and stripped by -the red squirrel the previous winter. - -The nuts thus left on the surface, or buried just beneath it, are -placed in the most favorable circumstances for germinating. I have -sometimes wondered how those which merely fell on the surface of the -earth got planted; but, by the end of December, I find the chestnut of -the same year partially mixed with the mould, as it were, under the -decaying and mouldy leaves, where there is all the moisture and manure -they want, for the nuts fall fast. In a plentiful year, a large -proportion of the nuts are thus covered loosely an inch deep, and are, -of course, somewhat concealed from squirrels. One winter, when the -crop had been abundant, I got, with the aid of a rake, many quarts of -these nuts as late as the tenth of January, and though some bought at -the store the same day were more than half of them mouldy, I did not -find a single mouldy one among these which I picked from under the wet -and mouldy leaves, where they had been snowed on once or twice. Nature -knows how to pack them best. They were still plump and tender. -Apparently, they do not heat there, though wet. In the spring they -were all sprouting. - -Loudon says that "when the nut [of the common walnut of Europe] is to -be preserved through the winter for the purpose of planting in the -following spring, it should be laid in a rot-heap, as soon as -gathered, with the husk on, and the heap should be turned over -frequently in the course of the winter." - -Here, again, he is stealing Nature's "thunder." How can a poor mortal -do otherwise? for it is she that finds fingers to steal with, and the -treasure to be stolen. In the planting of the seeds of most trees, the -best gardeners do no more than follow Nature, though they may not know -it. Generally, both large and small ones are most sure to germinate, -and succeed best, when only beaten into the earth with the back of a -spade, and then covered with leaves or straw. These results to which -planters have arrived remind us of the experience of Kane and his -companions at the north, who, when learning to live in that climate, -were surprised to find themselves steadily adopting the customs of the -natives, simply becoming Esquimaux. So, when we experiment in planting -forests, we find ourselves at last doing as Nature does. Would it not -be well to consult with Nature in the outset? for she is the most -extensive and experienced planter of us all, not excepting the Dukes -of Athol. - -In short, they who have not attended particularly to this subject are -but little aware to what an extent quadrupeds and birds are employed, -especially in the fall, in collecting, and so disseminating and -planting, the seeds of trees. It is the almost constant employment of -the squirrels at that season, and you rarely meet with one that has -not a nut in its mouth, or is not just going to get one. One -squirrel-hunter of this town told me that he knew of a walnut tree -which bore particularly good nuts, but that on going to gather them -one fall, he found that he had been anticipated by a family of a dozen -red squirrels. He took out of the tree, which was hollow, one bushel -and three pecks by measurement, without the husks, and they supplied -him and his family for the winter. It would be easy to multiply -instances of this kind. How commonly in the fall you see the -cheek-pouches of the striped squirrel distended by a quantity of nuts! -This species gets its scientific name, _Tamias_, or the steward, from -its habit of storing up nuts and other seeds. Look under a nut tree a -month after the nuts have fallen, and see what proportion of sound -nuts to the abortive ones and shells you will find ordinarily. They -have been already eaten, or dispersed far and wide. The ground looks -like a platform before a grocery, where the gossips of the village sit -to crack nuts and less savory jokes. You have come, you would say, -after the feast was over, and are presented with the shells only. - -Occasionally, when threading the woods in the fall, you will hear a -sound as if some one had broken a twig, and, looking up, see a jay -pecking at an acorn, or you will see a flock of them at once about it, -in the top of an oak, and hear them break them off. They then fly to a -suitable limb, and placing the acorn under one foot, hammer away at it -busily, making a sound like a woodpecker's tapping, looking round from -time to time to see if any foe is approaching, and soon reach the -meat, and nibble at it, holding up their heads to swallow, while they -hold the remainder very firmly with their claws. Nevertheless it often -drops to the ground before the bird has done with it. I can confirm -what William Bartram wrote to Wilson, the ornithologist, that "the jay -is one of the most useful agents in the economy of nature, for -disseminating forest trees and other nuciferous and hard-seeded -vegetables on which they feed. Their chief employment during the -autumnal season is foraging to supply their winter stores. In -performing this necessary duty they drop abundance of seed in their -flight over fields, hedges, and by fences, where they alight to -deposit them in the post-holes, etc. It is remarkable what numbers of -young trees rise up in fields and pastures after a wet winter and -spring. These birds alone are capable, in a few years' time, to -replant all the cleared lands." - -I have noticed that squirrels also frequently drop their nuts in open -land, which will still further account for the oaks and walnuts which -spring up in pastures, for, depend on it, every new tree comes from a -seed. When I examine the little oaks, one or two years old, in such -places, I invariably find the empty acorn from which they sprung. - -So far from the seed having lain dormant in the soil since oaks grew -there before, as many believe, it is well known that it is difficult -to preserve the vitality of acorns long enough to transport them to -Europe; and it is recommended in Loudon's "Arboretum," as the safest -course, to sprout them in pots on the voyage. The same authority -states that "very few acorns of any species will germinate after -having been kept a year," that beech mast "only retains its vital -properties one year," and the black walnut "seldom more than six -months after it has ripened." I have frequently found that in November -almost every acorn left on the ground had sprouted or decayed. What -with frost, drouth, moisture, and worms, the greater part are soon -destroyed. Yet it is stated by one botanical writer that "acorns that -have lain for centuries, on being ploughed up, have soon vegetated." - -Mr. George B. Emerson, in his valuable Report on the Trees and Shrubs -of this State, says of the pines: "The tenacity of life of the seeds -is remarkable. They will remain for many years unchanged in the -ground, protected by the coolness and deep shade of the forest above -them. But when the forest is removed, and the warmth of the sun -admitted, they immediately vegetate." Since he does not tell us on -what observation his remark is founded, I must doubt its truth. -Besides, the experience of nursery-men makes it the more questionable. - -The stories of wheat raised from seed buried with an ancient Egyptian, -and of raspberries raised from seed found in the stomach of a man in -England, who is supposed to have died sixteen or seventeen hundred -years ago, are generally discredited, simply because the evidence is -not conclusive. - -Several men of science, Dr. Carpenter among them, have used the -statement that beach plums sprang up in sand which was dug up forty -miles inland in Maine, to prove that the seed had lain there a very -long time, and some have inferred that the coast has receded so far. -But it seems to me necessary to their argument to show, first, that -beach plums grow only on a beach. They are not uncommon here, which is -about half that distance from the shore; and I remember a dense patch -a few miles north of us, twenty-five miles inland, from which the -fruit was annually carried to market. How much further inland they -grow, I know not. Dr. Charles T. Jackson speaks of finding "beach -plums" (perhaps they were this kind) more than one hundred miles -inland in Maine. - -It chances that similar objections lie against all the more notorious -instances of the kind on record. - -Yet I am prepared to believe that some seeds, especially small ones, -may retain their vitality for centuries under favorable circumstances. -In the spring of 1859, the old Hunt house, so called, in this town, -whose chimney bore the date 1703, was taken down. This stood on land -which belonged to John Winthrop, the first governor of Massachusetts, -and a part of the house was evidently much older than the above date, -and belonged to the Winthrop family. For many years I have ransacked -this neighborhood for plants, and I consider myself familiar with its -productions. Thinking of the seeds which are said to be sometimes dug -up at an unusual depth in the earth, and thus to reproduce long -extinct plants, it occurred to me last fall that some new or rare -plants might have sprung up in the cellar of this house, which had -been covered from the light so long. Searching there on the 22d of -September, I found, among other rank weeds, a species of nettle -(_Urtica urens_) which I had not found before; dill, which I had not -seen growing spontaneously; the Jerusalem oak (_Chenopodium Botrys_), -which I had seen wild in but one place; black nightshade (_Solanum -nigrum_), which is quite rare hereabouts, and common tobacco, which, -though it was often cultivated here in the last century, has for fifty -years been an unknown plant in this town, and a few months before this -not even I had heard that one man, in the north part of the town, was -cultivating a few plants for his own use. I have no doubt that some or -all of these plants sprang from seeds which had long been buried under -or about that house, and that that tobacco is an additional evidence -that the plant was formerly cultivated here. The cellar has been -filled up this year, and four of those plants, including the tobacco, -are now again extinct in that locality. - -It is true, I have shown that the animals consume a great part of the -seeds of trees, and so, at least, effectually prevent their becoming -trees; but in all these cases, as I have said, the consumer is -compelled to be at the same time the disperser and planter, and this -is the tax which he pays to Nature. I think it is Linnaeus who says -that while the swine is rooting for acorns he is planting acorns. - -Though I do not believe that a plant will spring up where no seed has -been, I have great faith in a seed,--a, to me, equally mysterious -origin for it. Convince me that you have a seed there, and I am -prepared to expect wonders. I shall even believe that the millennium -is at hand, and that the reign of justice is about to commence, when -the Patent Office, or Government, begins to distribute, and the people -to plant, the seeds of these things. - -In the spring of 1857 I planted six seeds sent to me from the Patent -Office, and labeled, I think, _Poitrine jaune grosse_, large yellow -squash. Two came up, and one bore a squash which weighed 123-1/2 pounds, -the other bore four, weighing together 186-1/4 pounds. Who would have -believed that there was 310 pounds of _poitrine jaune grosse_ in that -corner of my garden? These seeds were the bait I used to catch it, my -ferrets which I sent into its burrow, my brace of terriers which -unearthed it. A little mysterious hoeing and manuring was all the -_abracadabra presto-change_ that I used, and lo! true to the label, -they found for me 310 pounds of _poitrine jaune grosse_ there, where -it never was known to be, nor was before. These talismans had -perchance sprung from America at first, and returned to it with -unabated force. The big squash took a premium at your fair that fall, -and I understood that the man who bought it, intended to sell the -seeds for ten cents apiece. (Were they not cheap at that?) But I have -more hounds of the same breed. I learn that one which I despatched to -a distant town, true to its instincts, points to the large yellow -squash there, too, where no hound ever found it before, as its -ancestors did here and in France. - -Other seeds I have which will find other things in that corner of my -garden, in like fashion, almost any fruit you wish, every year for -ages, until the crop more than fills the whole garden. You have but -little more to do than throw up your cap for entertainment these -American days. Perfect alchemists I keep who can transmute substances -without end, and thus the corner of my garden is an inexhaustible -treasure-chest. Here you can dig, not gold, but the value which gold -merely represents; and there is no Signor Blitz about it. Yet farmers' -sons will stare by the hour to see a juggler draw ribbons from his -throat, though he tells them it is all deception. Surely, men love -darkness rather than light. - -FOOTNOTE: - -[6] An Address read to the Middlesex Agricultural Society in Concord, -September, 1860. - - - - -WALKING - - -I wish to speak a word for Nature, for absolute freedom and wildness, -as contrasted with a freedom and culture merely civil,--to regard man -as an inhabitant, or a part and parcel of Nature, rather than a member -of society. I wish to make an extreme statement, if so I may make an -emphatic one, for there are enough champions of civilization: the -minister and the school committee and every one of you will take care -of that. - - * * * * * - -I have met with but one or two persons in the course of my life who -understood the art of Walking, that is, of taking walks,--who had a -genius, so to speak, for _sauntering_, which word is beautifully -derived "from idle people who roved about the country, in the Middle -Ages, and asked charity, under pretense of going _a la Sainte Terre_," -to the Holy Land, till the children exclaimed, "There goes a -_Sainte-Terrer_," a Saunterer, a Holy-Lander. They who never go to the -Holy Land in their walks, as they pretend, are indeed mere idlers and -vagabonds; but they who do go there are saunterers in the good sense, -such as I mean. Some, however, would derive the word from _sans -terre_, without land or a home, which, therefore, in the good sense, -will mean, having no particular home, but equally at home everywhere. -For this is the secret of successful sauntering. He who sits still in -a house all the time may be the greatest vagrant of all; but the -saunterer, in the good sense, is no more vagrant than the meandering -river, which is all the while sedulously seeking the shortest course -to the sea. But I prefer the first, which, indeed, is the most -probable derivation. For every walk is a sort of crusade, preached by -some Peter the Hermit in us, to go forth and reconquer this Holy Land -from the hands of the Infidels. - -It is true, we are but faint-hearted crusaders, even the walkers, -nowadays, who undertake no persevering, never-ending enterprises. Our -expeditions are but tours, and come round again at evening to the old -hearth-side from which we set out. Half the walk is but retracing our -steps. We should go forth on the shortest walk, perchance, in the -spirit of undying adventure, never to return,--prepared to send back -our embalmed hearts only as relics to our desolate kingdoms. If you -are ready to leave father and mother, and brother and sister, and wife -and child and friends, and never see them again,--if you have paid -your debts, and made your will, and settled all your affairs, and are -a free man, then you are ready for a walk. - -To come down to my own experience, my companion and I, for I sometimes -have a companion, take pleasure in fancying ourselves knights of a -new, or rather an old, order,--not Equestrians or Chevaliers, not -Ritters or Riders, but Walkers, a still more ancient and honorable -class, I trust. The chivalric and heroic spirit which once belonged to -the Rider seems now to reside in, or perchance to have subsided into, -the Walker,--not the Knight, but Walker, Errant. He is a sort of -fourth estate, outside of Church and State and People. - -We have felt that we almost alone hereabouts practiced this noble -art; though, to tell the truth, at least if their own assertions are -to be received, most of my townsmen would fain walk sometimes, as I -do, but they cannot. No wealth can buy the requisite leisure, freedom, -and independence which are the capital in this profession. It comes -only by the grace of God. It requires a direct dispensation from -Heaven to become a walker. You must be born into the family of the -Walkers. _Ambulator nascitur, non fit._ Some of my townsmen, it is -true, can remember and have described to me some walks which they took -ten years ago, in which they were so blessed as to lose themselves for -half an hour in the woods; but I know very well that they have -confined themselves to the highway ever since, whatever pretensions -they may make to belong to this select class. No doubt they were -elevated for a moment as by the reminiscence of a previous state of -existence, when even they were foresters and outlaws. - - "When he came to grene wode, - In a mery mornynge, - There he herde the notes small - Of byrdes mery syngynge. - - "It is ferre gone, sayd Robyn, - That I was last here; - Me lyste a lytell for to shote - At the donne dere." - -I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits, unless I spend -four hours a day at least--and it is commonly more than -that--sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields, -absolutely free from all worldly engagements. You may safely say, A -penny for your thoughts, or a thousand pounds. When sometimes I am -reminded that the mechanics and shopkeepers stay in their shops not -only all the forenoon, but all the afternoon too, sitting with crossed -legs, so many of them,--as if the legs were made to sit upon, and not -to stand or walk upon,--I think that they deserve some credit for not -having all committed suicide long ago. - -I, who cannot stay in my chamber for a single day without acquiring -some rust, and when sometimes I have stolen forth for a walk at the -eleventh hour, or four o'clock in the afternoon, too late to redeem -the day, when the shades of night were already beginning to be mingled -with the daylight, have felt as if I had committed some sin to be -atoned for,--I confess that I am astonished at the power of endurance, -to say nothing of the moral insensibility, of my neighbors who confine -themselves to shops and offices the whole day for weeks and months, -aye, and years almost together. I know not what manner of stuff they -are of,--sitting there now at three o'clock in the afternoon, as if it -were three o'clock in the morning. Bonaparte may talk of the -three-o'clock-in-the-morning courage, but it is nothing to the courage -which can sit down cheerfully at this hour in the afternoon over -against one's self whom you have known all the morning, to starve out -a garrison to whom you are bound by such strong ties of sympathy. I -wonder that about this time, or say between four and five o'clock in -the afternoon, too late for the morning papers and too early for the -evening ones, there is not a general explosion heard up and down the -street, scattering a legion of antiquated and house-bred notions and -whims to the four winds for an airing,--and so the evil cure itself. - -How womankind, who are confined to the house still more than men, -stand it I do not know; but I have ground to suspect that most of them -do not _stand_ it at all. When, early in a summer afternoon, we have -been shaking the dust of the village from the skirts of our garments, -making haste past those houses with purely Doric or Gothic fronts, -which have such an air of repose about them, my companion whispers -that probably about these times their occupants are all gone to bed. -Then it is that I appreciate the beauty and the glory of architecture, -which itself never turns in, but forever stands out and erect, keeping -watch over the slumberers. - -No doubt temperament, and, above all, age, have a good deal to do with -it. As a man grows older, his ability to sit still and follow indoor -occupations increases. He grows vespertinal in his habits as the -evening of life approaches, till at last he comes forth only just -before sundown, and gets all the walk that he requires in half an -hour. - -But the walking of which I speak has nothing in it akin to taking -exercise, as it is called, as the sick take medicine at stated -hours,--as the swinging of dumbbells or chairs; but is itself the -enterprise and adventure of the day. If you would get exercise, go in -search of the springs of life. Think of a man's swinging dumbbells for -his health, when those springs are bubbling up in far-off pastures -unsought by him! - -Moreover, you must walk like a camel, which is said to be the only -beast which ruminates when walking. When a traveler asked Wordsworth's -servant to show him her master's study, she answered, "Here is his -library, but his study is out of doors." - -Living much out of doors, in the sun and wind, will no doubt produce a -certain roughness of character,--will cause a thicker cuticle to grow -over some of the finer qualities of our nature, as on the face and -hands, or as severe manual labor robs the hands of some of their -delicacy of touch. So staying in the house, on the other hand, may -produce a softness and smoothness, not to say thinness of skin, -accompanied by an increased sensibility to certain impressions. -Perhaps we should be more susceptible to some influences important to -our intellectual and moral growth, if the sun had shone and the wind -blown on us a little less; and no doubt it is a nice matter to -proportion rightly the thick and thin skin. But methinks that is a -scurf that will fall off fast enough,--that the natural remedy is to -be found in the proportion which the night bears to the day, the -winter to the summer, thought to experience. There will be so much the -more air and sunshine in our thoughts. The callous palms of the -laborer are conversant with finer tissues of self-respect and heroism, -whose touch thrills the heart, than the languid fingers of idleness. -That is mere sentimentality that lies abed by day and thinks itself -white, far from the tan and callus of experience. - -When we walk, we naturally go to the fields and woods: what would -become of us, if we walked only in a garden or a mall? Even some -sects of philosophers have felt the necessity of importing the woods -to themselves, since they did not go to the woods. "They planted -groves and walks of Platanes," where they took _subdiales -ambulationes_ in porticos open to the air. Of course it is of no use -to direct our steps to the woods, if they do not carry us thither. I -am alarmed when it happens that I have walked a mile into the woods -bodily, without getting there in spirit. In my afternoon walk I would -fain forget all my morning occupations and my obligations to society. -But it sometimes happens that I cannot easily shake off the village. -The thought of some work will run in my head and I am not where my -body is,--I am out of my senses. In my walks I would fain return to my -senses. What business have I in the woods, if I am thinking of -something out of the woods? I suspect myself, and cannot help a -shudder, when I find myself so implicated even in what are called good -works,--for this may sometimes happen. - -My vicinity affords many good walks; and though for so many years I -have walked almost every day, and sometimes for several days together, -I have not yet exhausted them. An absolutely new prospect is a great -happiness, and I can still get this any afternoon. Two or three hours' -walking will carry me to as strange a country as I expect ever to see. -A single farmhouse which I had not seen before is sometimes as good as -the dominions of the King of Dahomey. There is in fact a sort of -harmony discoverable between the capabilities of the landscape within -a circle of ten miles' radius, or the limits of an afternoon walk, and -the threescore years and ten of human life. It will never become -quite familiar to you. - -Nowadays almost all man's improvements, so called, as the building of -houses and the cutting down of the forest and of all large trees, -simply deform the landscape, and make it more and more tame and cheap. -A people who would begin by burning the fences and let the forest -stand! I saw the fences half consumed, their ends lost in the middle -of the prairie, and some worldly miser with a surveyor looking after -his bounds, while heaven had taken place around him, and he did not -see the angels going to and fro, but was looking for an old post-hole -in the midst of paradise. I looked again, and saw him standing in the -middle of a boggy Stygian fen, surrounded by devils, and he had found -his bounds without a doubt, three little stones, where a stake had -been driven, and looking nearer, I saw that the Prince of Darkness was -his surveyor. - -I can easily walk ten, fifteen, twenty, any number of miles, -commencing at my own door, without going by any house, without -crossing a road except where the fox and the mink do: first along by -the river, and then the brook, and then the meadow and the woodside. -There are square miles in my vicinity which have no inhabitant. From -many a hill I can see civilization and the abodes of man afar. The -farmers and their works are scarcely more obvious than woodchucks and -their burrows. Man and his affairs, church and state and school, trade -and commerce, and manufactures and agriculture, even politics, the -most alarming of them all,--I am pleased to see how little space they -occupy in the landscape. Politics is but a narrow field, and that -still narrower highway yonder leads to it. I sometimes direct the -traveler thither. If you would go to the political world, follow the -great road,--follow that market-man, keep his dust in your eyes, and -it will lead you straight to it; for it, too, has its place merely, -and does not occupy all space. I pass from it as from a bean-field -into the forest, and it is forgotten. In one half-hour I can walk off -to some portion of the earth's surface where a man does not stand from -one year's end to another, and there, consequently, politics are not, -for they are but as the cigar-smoke of a man. - -The village is the place to which the roads tend, a sort of expansion -of the highway, as a lake of a river. It is the body of which roads -are the arms and legs,--a trivial or quadrivial place, the -thoroughfare and ordinary of travelers. The word is from the Latin -_villa_, which together with _via_, a way, or more anciently _ved_ and -_vella_, Varro derives from _veho_, to carry, because the villa is the -place to and from which things are carried. They who got their living -by teaming were said _vellaturam facere_. Hence, too, the Latin word -_vilis_ and our vile, also _villain_. This suggests what kind of -degeneracy villagers are liable to. They are wayworn by the travel -that goes by and over them, without traveling themselves. - -Some do not walk at all; others walk in the highways; a few walk -across lots. Roads are made for horses and men of business. I do not -travel in them much, comparatively, because I am not in a hurry to get -to any tavern or grocery or livery-stable or depot to which they -lead. I am a good horse to travel, but not from choice a roadster. The -landscape-painter uses the figures of men to mark a road. He would not -make that use of my figure. I walk out into a nature such as the old -prophets and poets, Menu, Moses, Homer, Chaucer, walked in. You may -name it America, but it is not America; neither Americus Vespucius, -nor Columbus, nor the rest were the discoverers of it. There is a -truer account of it in mythology than in any history of America, so -called, that I have seen. - -However, there are a few old roads that may be trodden with profit, as -if they led somewhere now that they are nearly discontinued. There is -the Old Marlborough Road, which does not go to Marlborough now, -methinks, unless that is Marlborough where it carries me. I am the -bolder to speak of it here, because I presume that there are one or -two such roads in every town. - - - [Illustration: _The Old Marlborough Road_] - -THE OLD MARLBOROUGH ROAD - - Where they once dug for money, - But never found any; - Where sometimes Martial Miles - Singly files, - And Elijah Wood, - I fear for no good: - No other man, - Save Elisha Dugan,-- - O man of wild habits, - Partridges and rabbits, - Who hast no cares - Only to set snares, - Who liv'st all alone, - Close to the bone, - And where life is sweetest - Constantly eatest. - When the spring stirs my blood - With the instinct to travel, - I can get enough gravel - On the Old Marlborough Road. - Nobody repairs it, - For nobody wears it; - It is a living way, - As the Christians say. - Not many there be - Who enter therein, - Only the guests of the - Irishman Quin. - What is it, what is it, - But a direction out there, - And the bare possibility - Of going somewhere? - Great guide-boards of stone, - But travelers none; - Cenotaphs of the towns - Named on their crowns. - It is worth going to see - Where you _might_ be. - What king - Did the thing, - I am still wondering; - Set up how or when, - By what selectmen, - Gourgas or Lee, - Clark or Darby? - They're a great endeavor - To be something forever; - Blank tablets of stone, - Where a traveler might groan, - And in one sentence - Grave all that is known; - Which another might read, - In his extreme need. - I know one or two - Lines that would do, - Literature that might stand - All over the land, - Which a man could remember - Till next December, - And read again in the spring, - After the thawing. - If with fancy unfurled - You leave your abode, - You may go round the world - By the Old Marlborough Road. - -At present, in this vicinity, the best part of the land is not private -property; the landscape is not owned, and the walker enjoys -comparative freedom. But possibly the day will come when it will be -partitioned off into so-called pleasure-grounds, in which a few will -take a narrow and exclusive pleasure only,--when fences shall be -multiplied, and man-traps and other engines invented to confine men to -the _public_ road, and walking over the surface of God's earth shall -be construed to mean trespassing on some gentleman's grounds. To enjoy -a thing exclusively is commonly to exclude yourself from the true -enjoyment of it. Let us improve our opportunities, then, before the -evil days come. - - * * * * * - -What is it that makes it so hard sometimes to determine whither we -will walk? I believe that there is a subtle magnetism in Nature, -which, if we unconsciously yield to it, will direct us aright. It is -not indifferent to us which way we walk. There is a right way; but we -are very liable from heedlessness and stupidity to take the wrong one. -We would fain take that walk, never yet taken by us through this -actual world, which is perfectly symbolical of the path which we love -to travel in the interior and ideal world; and sometimes, no doubt, we -find it difficult to choose our direction, because it does not yet -exist distinctly in our idea. - -When I go out of the house for a walk, uncertain as yet whither I will -bend my steps, and submit myself to my instinct to decide for me, I -find, strange and whimsical as it may seem, that I finally and -inevitably settle southwest, toward some particular wood or meadow or -deserted pasture or hill in that direction. My needle is slow to -settle,--varies a few degrees, and does not always point due -southwest, it is true, and it has good authority for this variation, -but it always settles between west and south-southwest. The future -lies that way to me, and the earth seems more unexhausted and richer -on that side. The outline which would bound my walks would be, not a -circle, but a parabola, or rather like one of those cometary orbits -which have been thought to be non-returning curves, in this case -opening westward, in which my house occupies the place of the sun. I -turn round and round irresolute sometimes for a quarter of an hour, -until I decide, for a thousandth time, that I will walk into the -southwest or west. Eastward I go only by force; but westward I go -free. Thither no business leads me. It is hard for me to believe that -I shall find fair landscapes or sufficient wildness and freedom behind -the eastern horizon. I am not excited by the prospect of a walk -thither; but I believe that the forest which I see in the western -horizon stretches uninterruptedly toward the setting sun, and there -are no towns nor cities in it of enough consequence to disturb me. -Let me live where I will, on this side is the city, on that the -wilderness, and ever I am leaving the city more and more, and -withdrawing into the wilderness. I should not lay so much stress on -this fact, if I did not believe that something like this is the -prevailing tendency of my countrymen. I must walk toward Oregon, and -not toward Europe. And that way the nation is moving, and I may say -that mankind progress from east to west. Within a few years we have -witnessed the phenomenon of a southeastward migration, in the -settlement of Australia; but this affects us as a retrograde movement, -and, judging from the moral and physical character of the first -generation of Australians, has not yet proved a successful experiment. -The eastern Tartars think that there is nothing west beyond Thibet. -"The world ends there," say they; "beyond there is nothing but a -shoreless sea." It is unmitigated East where they live. - -We go eastward to realize history and study the works of art and -literature, retracing the steps of the race; we go westward as into -the future, with a spirit of enterprise and adventure. The Atlantic is -a Lethean stream, in our passage over which we have had an opportunity -to forget the Old World and its institutions. If we do not succeed -this time, there is perhaps one more chance for the race left before -it arrives on the banks of the Styx; and that is in the Lethe of the -Pacific, which is three times as wide. - -I know not how significant it is, or how far it is an evidence of -singularity, that an individual should thus consent in his pettiest -walk with the general movement of the race; but I know that something -akin to the migratory instinct in birds and quadrupeds,--which, in -some instances, is known to have affected the squirrel tribe, -impelling them to a general and mysterious movement, in which they -were seen, say some, crossing the broadest rivers, each on its -particular chip, with its tail raised for a sail, and bridging -narrower streams with their dead,--that something like the _furor_ -which affects the domestic cattle in the spring, and which is referred -to a worm in their tails, affects both nations and individuals, either -perennially or from time to time. Not a flock of wild geese cackles -over our town, but it to some extent unsettles the value of real -estate here, and, if I were a broker, I should probably take that -disturbance into account. - - "Than longen folk to gon on pilgrimages, - And palmeres for to seken strange strondes." - -Every sunset which I witness inspires me with the desire to go to a -West as distant and as fair as that into which the sun goes down. He -appears to migrate westward daily, and tempt us to follow him. He is -the Great Western Pioneer whom the nations follow. We dream all night -of those mountain-ridges in the horizon, though they may be of vapor -only, which were last gilded by his rays. The island of Atlantis, and -the islands and gardens of the Hesperides, a sort of terrestrial -paradise, appear to have been the Great West of the ancients, -enveloped in mystery and poetry. Who has not seen in imagination, when -looking into the sunset sky, the gardens of the Hesperides, and the -foundation of all those fables? - -Columbus felt the westward tendency more strongly than any before. He -obeyed it, and found a New World for Castile and Leon. The herd of men -in those days scented fresh pastures from afar. - - "And now the sun had stretched out all the hills, - And now was dropped into the western bay; - At last _he_ rose, and twitched his mantle blue; - To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new." - -Where on the globe can there be found an area of equal extent with -that occupied by the bulk of our States, so fertile and so rich and -varied in its productions, and at the same time so habitable by the -European, as this is? Michaux, who knew but part of them, says that -"the species of large trees are much more numerous in North America -than in Europe; in the United States there are more than one hundred -and forty species that exceed thirty feet in height; in France there -are but thirty that attain this size." Later botanists more than -confirm his observations. Humboldt came to America to realize his -youthful dreams of a tropical vegetation, and he beheld it in its -greatest perfection in the primitive forests of the Amazon, the most -gigantic wilderness on the earth, which he has so eloquently -described. The geographer Guyot, himself a European, goes -farther,--farther than I am ready to follow him; yet not when he says: -"As the plant is made for the animal, as the vegetable world is made -for the animal world, America is made for the man of the Old World.... -The man of the Old World sets out upon his way. Leaving the highlands -of Asia, he descends from station to station towards Europe. Each of -his steps is marked by a new civilization superior to the preceding, -by a greater power of development. Arrived at the Atlantic, he pauses -on the shore of this unknown ocean, the bounds of which he knows not, -and turns upon his footprints for an instant." When he has exhausted -the rich soil of Europe, and reinvigorated himself, "then recommences -his adventurous career westward as in the earliest ages." So far -Guyot. - -From this western impulse coming in contact with the barrier of the -Atlantic sprang the commerce and enterprise of modern times. The -younger Michaux, in his "Travels West of the Alleghanies in 1802," -says that the common inquiry in the newly settled West was, "'From -what part of the world have you come?' As if these vast and fertile -regions would naturally be the place of meeting and common country of -all the inhabitants of the globe." - -To use an obsolete Latin word, I might say, _Ex Oriente lux; ex -Occidente_ FRUX. From the East light; from the West fruit. - -Sir Francis Head, an English traveler and a Governor-General of -Canada, tells us that "in both the northern and southern hemispheres -of the New World, Nature has not only outlined her works on a larger -scale, but has painted the whole picture with brighter and more costly -colors than she used in delineating and in beautifying the Old -World.... The heavens of America appear infinitely higher, the sky is -bluer, the air is fresher, the cold is intenser, the moon looks -larger, the stars are brighter, the thunder is louder, the lightning -is vivider, the wind is stronger, the rain is heavier, the mountains -are higher, the rivers longer, the forests bigger, the plains -broader." This statement will do at least to set against Buffon's -account of this part of the world and its productions. - -Linnaeus said long ago, "Nescio quae facies _laeta_, _glabra_ plantis -Americanis" (I know not what there is of joyous and smooth in the -aspect of American plants); and I think that in this country there are -no, or at most very few, _Africanae bestiae_, African beasts, as the -Romans called them, and that in this respect also it is peculiarly -fitted for the habitation of man. We are told that within three miles -of the centre of the East-Indian city of Singapore, some of the -inhabitants are annually carried off by tigers; but the traveler can -lie down in the woods at night almost anywhere in North America -without fear of wild beasts. - -These are encouraging testimonies. If the moon looks larger here than -in Europe, probably the sun looks larger also. If the heavens of -America appear infinitely higher, and the stars brighter, I trust that -these facts are symbolical of the height to which the philosophy and -poetry and religion of her inhabitants may one day soar. At length, -perchance, the immaterial heaven will appear as much higher to the -American mind, and the intimations that star it as much brighter. For -I believe that climate does thus react on man,--as there is something -in the mountain air that feeds the spirit and inspires. Will not man -grow to greater perfection intellectually as well as physically under -these influences? Or is it unimportant how many foggy days there are -in his life? I trust that we shall be more imaginative, that our -thoughts will be clearer, fresher, and more ethereal, as our -sky,--our understanding more comprehensive and broader, like our -plains,--our intellect generally on a grander scale, like our thunder -and lightning, our rivers and mountains and forests,--and our hearts -shall even correspond in breadth and depth and grandeur to our inland -seas. Perchance there will appear to the traveler something, he knows -not what, of _laeta_ and _glabra_, of joyous and serene, in our very -faces. Else to what end does the world go on, and why was America -discovered? - -To Americans I hardly need to say,-- - - "Westward the star of empire takes its way." - -As a true patriot, I should be ashamed to think that Adam in paradise -was more favorably situated on the whole than the backwoodsman in this -country. - -Our sympathies in Massachusetts are not confined to New England; -though we may be estranged from the South, we sympathize with the -West. There is the home of the younger sons, as among the -Scandinavians they took to the sea for their inheritance. It is too -late to be studying Hebrew; it is more important to understand even -the slang of to-day. - -Some months ago I went to see a panorama of the Rhine. It was like a -dream of the Middle Ages. I floated down its historic stream in -something more than imagination, under bridges built by the Romans, -and repaired by later heroes, past cities and castles whose very names -were music to my ears, and each of which was the subject of a legend. -There were Ehrenbreitstein and Rolandseck and Coblentz, which I knew -only in history. They were ruins that interested me chiefly. There -seemed to come up from its waters and its vine-clad hills and valleys -a hushed music as of Crusaders departing for the Holy Land. I floated -along under the spell of enchantment, as if I had been transported to -an heroic age, and breathed an atmosphere of chivalry. - -Soon after, I went to see a panorama of the Mississippi, and as I -worked my way up the river in the light of to-day, and saw the -steamboats wooding up, counted the rising cities, gazed on the fresh -ruins of Nauvoo, beheld the Indians moving west across the stream, -and, as before I had looked up the Moselle, now looked up the Ohio and -the Missouri and heard the legends of Dubuque and of Wenona's -Cliff,--still thinking more of the future than of the past or -present,--I saw that this was a Rhine stream of a different kind; that -the foundations of castles were yet to be laid, and the famous bridges -were yet to be thrown over the river; and I felt that _this was the -heroic age itself_, though we know it not, for the hero is commonly -the simplest and obscurest of men. - - * * * * * - -The West of which I speak is but another name for the Wild; and what I -have been preparing to say is, that in Wildness is the preservation of -the World. Every tree sends its fibres forth in search of the Wild. -The cities import it at any price. Men plow and sail for it. From the -forest and wilderness come the tonics and barks which brace mankind. -Our ancestors were savages. The story of Romulus and Remus being -suckled by a wolf is not a meaningless fable. The founders of every -state which has risen to eminence have drawn their nourishment and -vigor from a similar wild source. It was because the children of the -Empire were not suckled by the wolf that they were conquered and -displaced by the children of the northern forests who were. - -I believe in the forest, and in the meadow, and in the night in which -the corn grows. We require an infusion of hemlock spruce or arbor-vitae -in our tea. There is a difference between eating and drinking for -strength and from mere gluttony. The Hottentots eagerly devour the -marrow of the koodoo and other antelopes raw, as a matter of course. -Some of our northern Indians eat raw the marrow of the Arctic -reindeer, as well as various other parts, including the summits of the -antlers, as long as they are soft. And herein, perchance, they have -stolen a march on the cooks of Paris. They get what usually goes to -feed the fire. This is probably better than stall-fed beef and -slaughter-house pork to make a man of. Give me a wildness whose glance -no civilization can endure,--as if we lived on the marrow of koodoos -devoured raw. - -There are some intervals which border the strain of the wood thrush, -to which I would migrate,--wild lands where no settler has squatted; -to which, methinks, I am already acclimated. - -The African hunter Cumming tells us that the skin of the eland, as -well as that of most other antelopes just killed, emits the most -delicious perfume of trees and grass. I would have every man so much -like a wild antelope, so much a part and parcel of nature, that his -very person should thus sweetly advertise our senses of his presence, -and remind us of those parts of nature which he most haunts. I feel -no disposition to be satirical, when the trapper's coat emits the odor -of musquash even; it is a sweeter scent to me than that which commonly -exhales from the merchant's or the scholar's garments. When I go into -their wardrobes and handle their vestments, I am reminded of no grassy -plains and flowery meads which they have frequented, but of dusty -merchants' exchanges and libraries rather. - -A tanned skin is something more than respectable, and perhaps olive is -a fitter color than white for a man,--a denizen of the woods. "The -pale white man!" I do not wonder that the African pitied him. Darwin -the naturalist says, "A white man bathing by the side of a Tahitian -was like a plant bleached by the gardener's art, compared with a fine, -dark green one, growing vigorously in the open fields." - -Ben Jonson exclaims,-- - - "How near to good is what is fair!" - -So I would say,-- - - How near to good is what is _wild_! - -Life consists with wildness. The most alive is the wildest. Not yet -subdued to man, its presence refreshes him. One who pressed forward -incessantly and never rested from his labors, who grew fast and made -infinite demands on life, would always find himself in a new country -or wilderness, and surrounded by the raw material of life. He would be -climbing over the prostrate stems of primitive forest-trees. - -Hope and the future for me are not in lawns and cultivated fields, not -in towns and cities, but in the impervious and quaking swamps. When, -formerly, I have analyzed my partiality for some farm which I had -contemplated purchasing, I have frequently found that I was attracted -solely by a few square rods of impermeable and unfathomable bog,--a -natural sink in one corner of it. That was the jewel which dazzled me. -I derive more of my subsistence from the swamps which surround my -native town than from the cultivated gardens in the village. There are -no richer parterres to my eyes than the dense beds of dwarf andromeda -(_Cassandra calyculata_) which cover these tender places on the -earth's surface. Botany cannot go farther than tell me the names of -the shrubs which grow there,--the high blueberry, panicled andromeda, -lambkill, azalea, and rhodora,--all standing in the quaking sphagnum. -I often think that I should like to have my house front on this mass -of dull red bushes, omitting other flower plots and borders, -transplanted spruce and trim box, even graveled walks,--to have this -fertile spot under my windows, not a few imported barrowfuls of soil -only to cover the sand which was thrown out in digging the cellar. Why -not put my house, my parlor, behind this plot, instead of behind that -meagre assemblage of curiosities, that poor apology for a Nature and -Art, which I call my front yard? It is an effort to clear up and make -a decent appearance when the carpenter and mason have departed, though -done as much for the passer-by as the dweller within. The most -tasteful front-yard fence was never an agreeable object of study to -me; the most elaborate ornaments, acorn tops, or what not, soon -wearied and disgusted me. Bring your sills up to the very edge of the -swamp, then (though it may not be the best place for a dry cellar), so -that there be no access on that side to citizens. Front yards are not -made to walk in, but, at most, through, and you could go in the back -way. - -Yes, though you may think me perverse, if it were proposed to me to -dwell in the neighborhood of the most beautiful garden that ever human -art contrived, or else of a Dismal Swamp, I should certainly decide -for the swamp. How vain, then, have been all your labors, citizens, -for me! - -My spirits infallibly rise in proportion to the outward dreariness. -Give me the ocean, the desert, or the wilderness! In the desert, pure -air and solitude compensate for want of moisture and fertility. The -traveler Burton says of it: "Your _morale_ improves; you become frank -and cordial, hospitable and single-minded.... In the desert, -spirituous liquors excite only disgust. There is a keen enjoyment in a -mere animal existence." They who have been traveling long on the -steppes of Tartary say, "On reentering cultivated lands, the -agitation, perplexity, and turmoil of civilization oppressed and -suffocated us; the air seemed to fail us, and we felt every moment as -if about to die of asphyxia." When I would recreate myself, I seek the -darkest wood, the thickest and most interminable and, to the citizen, -most dismal, swamp. I enter a swamp as a sacred place, a _sanctum -sanctorum_. There is the strength, the marrow, of Nature. The wildwood -covers the virgin mould, and the same soil is good for men and for -trees. A man's health requires as many acres of meadow to his prospect -as his farm does loads of muck. There are the strong meats on which -he feeds. A town is saved, not more by the righteous men in it than by -the woods and swamps that surround it. A township where one primitive -forest waves above while another primitive forest rots below,--such a -town is fitted to raise not only corn and potatoes, but poets and -philosophers for the coming ages. In such a soil grew Homer and -Confucius and the rest, and out of such a wilderness comes the -Reformer eating locusts and wild honey. - -To preserve wild animals implies generally the creation of a forest -for them to dwell in or resort to. So it is with man. A hundred years -ago they sold bark in our streets peeled from our own woods. In the -very aspect of those primitive and rugged trees there was, methinks, a -tanning principle which hardened and consolidated the fibres of men's -thoughts. Ah! already I shudder for these comparatively degenerate -days of my native village, when you cannot collect a load of bark of -good thickness, and we no longer produce tar and turpentine. - -The civilized nations--Greece, Rome, England--have been sustained by -the primitive forests which anciently rotted where they stand. They -survive as long as the soil is not exhausted. Alas for human culture! -little is to be expected of a nation, when the vegetable mould is -exhausted, and it is compelled to make manure of the bones of its -fathers. There the poet sustains himself merely by his own superfluous -fat, and the philosopher comes down on his marrow-bones. - -It is said to be the task of the American "to work the virgin soil," -and that "agriculture here already assumes proportions unknown -everywhere else." I think that the farmer displaces the Indian even -because he redeems the meadow, and so makes himself stronger and in -some respects more natural. I was surveying for a man the other day a -single straight line one hundred and thirty-two rods long, through a -swamp at whose entrance might have been written the words which Dante -read over the entrance to the infernal regions, "Leave all hope, ye -that enter,"--that is, of ever getting out again; where at one time I -saw my employer actually up to his neck and swimming for his life in -his property, though it was still winter. He had another similar swamp -which I could not survey at all, because it was completely under -water, and nevertheless, with regard to a third swamp, which I did -_survey_ from a distance, he remarked to me, true to his instincts, -that he would not part with it for any consideration, on account of -the mud which it contained. And that man intends to put a girdling -ditch round the whole in the course of forty months, and so redeem it -by the magic of his spade. I refer to him only as the type of a class. - -The weapons with which we have gained our most important victories, -which should be handed down as heirlooms from father to son, are not -the sword and the lance, but the bushwhack, the turf-cutter, the -spade, and the bog hoe, rusted with the blood of many a meadow, and -begrimed with the dust of many a hard-fought field. The very winds -blew the Indian's corn-field into the meadow, and pointed out the way -which he had not the skill to follow. He had no better implement with -which to intrench himself in the land than a clamshell. But the farmer -is armed with plow and spade. - -In literature it is only the wild that attracts us. Dullness is but -another name for tameness. It is the uncivilized free and wild -thinking in Hamlet and the Iliad, in all the scriptures and -mythologies, not learned in the schools, that delights us. As the wild -duck is more swift and beautiful than the tame, so is the wild--the -mallard--thought, which 'mid falling dews wings its way above the -fens. A truly good book is something as natural, and as unexpectedly -and unaccountably fair and perfect, as a wild-flower discovered on the -prairies of the West or in the jungles of the East. Genius is a light -which makes the darkness visible, like the lightning's flash, which -perchance shatters the temple of knowledge itself,--and not a taper -lighted at the hearth-stone of the race, which pales before the light -of common day. - -English literature, from the days of the minstrels to the Lake -Poets,--Chaucer and Spenser and Milton, and even Shakespeare, -included,--breathes no quite fresh and, in this sense, wild strain. It -is an essentially tame and civilized literature, reflecting Greece and -Rome. Her wilderness is a greenwood, her wild man a Robin Hood. There -is plenty of genial love of Nature, but not so much of Nature herself. -Her chronicles inform us when her wild animals, but not when the wild -man in her, became extinct. - -The science of Humboldt is one thing, poetry is another thing. The -poet to-day, notwithstanding all the discoveries of science, and the -accumulated learning of mankind, enjoys no advantage over Homer. - -Where is the literature which gives expression to Nature? He would be -a poet who could impress the winds and streams into his service, to -speak for him; who nailed words to their primitive senses, as farmers -drive down stakes in the spring, which the frost has heaved; who -derived his words as often as he used them,--transplanted them to his -page with earth adhering to their roots; whose words were so true and -fresh and natural that they would appear to expand like the buds at -the approach of spring, though they lay half smothered between two -musty leaves in a library,--aye, to bloom and bear fruit there, after -their kind, annually, for the faithful reader, in sympathy with -surrounding Nature. - -I do not know of any poetry to quote which adequately expresses this -yearning for the Wild. Approached from this side, the best poetry is -tame. I do not know where to find in any literature, ancient or -modern, any account which contents me of that Nature with which even I -am acquainted. You will perceive that I demand something which no -Augustan nor Elizabethan age, which no _culture_, in short, can give. -Mythology comes nearer to it than anything. How much more fertile a -Nature, at least, has Grecian mythology its root in than English -literature! Mythology is the crop which the Old World bore before its -soil was exhausted, before the fancy and imagination were affected -with blight; and which it still bears, wherever its pristine vigor is -unabated. All other literatures endure only as the elms which -overshadow our houses; but this is like the great dragon-tree of the -Western Isles, as old as mankind, and, whether that does or not, will -endure as long; for the decay of other literatures makes the soil in -which it thrives. - -The West is preparing to add its fables to those of the East. The -valleys of the Ganges, the Nile, and the Rhine having yielded their -crop, it remains to be seen what the valleys of the Amazon, the Plate, -the Orinoco, the St. Lawrence, and the Mississippi will produce. -Perchance, when, in the course of ages, American liberty has become a -fiction of the past,--as it is to some extent a fiction of the -present,--the poets of the world will be inspired by American -mythology. - -The wildest dreams of wild men, even, are not the less true, though -they may not recommend themselves to the sense which is most common -among Englishmen and Americans to-day. It is not every truth that -recommends itself to the common sense. Nature has a place for the wild -clematis as well as for the cabbage. Some expressions of truth are -reminiscent,--others merely _sensible_, as the phrase is,--others -prophetic. Some forms of disease, even, may prophesy forms of health. -The geologist has discovered that the figures of serpents, griffins, -flying dragons, and other fanciful embellishments of heraldry, have -their prototypes in the forms of fossil species which were extinct -before man was created, and hence "indicate a faint and shadowy -knowledge of a previous state of organic existence." The Hindoos -dreamed that the earth rested on an elephant, and the elephant on a -tortoise, and the tortoise on a serpent; and though it may be an -unimportant coincidence, it will not be out of place here to state, -that a fossil tortoise has lately been discovered in Asia large enough -to support an elephant. I confess that I am partial to these wild -fancies, which transcend the order of time and development. They are -the sublimest recreation of the intellect. The partridge loves peas, -but not those that go with her into the pot. - -In short, all good things are wild and free. There is something in a -strain of music, whether produced by an instrument or by the human -voice,--take the sound of a bugle in a summer night, for -instance,--which by its wildness, to speak without satire, reminds me -of the cries emitted by wild beasts in their native forests. It is so -much of their wildness as I can understand. Give me for my friends and -neighbors wild men, not tame ones. The wildness of the savage is but a -faint symbol of the awful ferity with which good men and lovers meet. - -I love even to see the domestic animals reassert their native -rights,--any evidence that they have not wholly lost their original -wild habits and vigor; as when my neighbor's cow breaks out of her -pasture early in the spring and boldly swims the river, a cold, gray -tide, twenty-five or thirty rods wide, swollen by the melted snow. It -is the buffalo crossing the Mississippi. This exploit confers some -dignity on the herd in my eyes,--already dignified. The seeds of -instinct are preserved under the thick hides of cattle and horses, -like seeds in the bowels of the earth, an indefinite period. - -Any sportiveness in cattle is unexpected. I saw one day a herd of a -dozen bullocks and cows running about and frisking in unwieldy sport, -like huge rats, even like kittens. They shook their heads, raised -their tails, and rushed up and down a hill, and I perceived by their -horns, as well as by their activity, their relation to the deer tribe. -But, alas! a sudden loud _Whoa!_ would have damped their ardor at -once, reduced them from venison to beef, and stiffened their sides and -sinews like the locomotive. Who but the Evil One has cried "Whoa!" to -mankind? Indeed, the life of cattle, like that of many men, is but a -sort of locomotiveness; they move a side at a time, and man, by his -machinery, is meeting the horse and the ox half-way. Whatever part the -whip has touched is thenceforth palsied. Who would ever think of a -_side_ of any of the supple cat tribe, as we speak of a _side_ of -beef? - -I rejoice that horses and steers have to be broken before they can be -made the slaves of men, and that men themselves have some wild oats -still left to sow before they become submissive members of society. -Undoubtedly, all men are not equally fit subjects for civilization; -and because the majority, like dogs and sheep, are tame by inherited -disposition, this is no reason why the others should have their -natures broken that they may be reduced to the same level. Men are in -the main alike, but they were made several in order that they might be -various. If a low use is to be served, one man will do nearly or quite -as well as another; if a high one, individual excellence is to be -regarded. Any man can stop a hole to keep the wind away, but no other -man could serve so rare a use as the author of this illustration did. -Confucius says, "The skins of the tiger and the leopard, when they are -tanned, are as the skins of the dog and the sheep tanned." But it is -not the part of a true culture to tame tigers, any more than it is to -make sheep ferocious; and tanning their skins for shoes is not the -best use to which they can be put. - - * * * * * - -When looking over a list of men's names in a foreign language, as of -military officers, or of authors who have written on a particular -subject, I am reminded once more that there is nothing in a name. The -name Menschikoff, for instance, has nothing in it to my ears more -human than a whisker, and it may belong to a rat. As the names of the -Poles and Russians are to us, so are ours to them. It is as if they -had been named by the child's rigmarole, _Iery wiery ichery van, -tittle-tol-tan_. I see in my mind a herd of wild creatures swarming -over the earth, and to each the herdsman has affixed some barbarous -sound in his own dialect. The names of men are, of course, as cheap -and meaningless as _Bose_ and _Tray_, the names of dogs. - -Methinks it would be some advantage to philosophy if men were named -merely in the gross, as they are known. It would be necessary only to -know the genus and perhaps the race or variety, to know the -individual. We are not prepared to believe that every private soldier -in a Roman army had a name of his own,--because we have not supposed -that he had a character of his own. - -At present our only true names are nicknames. I knew a boy who, from -his peculiar energy, was called "Buster" by his playmates, and this -rightly supplanted his Christian name. Some travelers tell us that an -Indian had no name given him at first, but earned it, and his name was -his fame; and among some tribes he acquired a new name with every new -exploit. It is pitiful when a man bears a name for convenience merely, -who has earned neither name nor fame. - -I will not allow mere names to make distinctions for me, but still see -men in herds for all them. A familiar name cannot make a man less -strange to me. It may be given to a savage who retains in secret his -own wild title earned in the woods. We have a wild savage in us, and a -savage name is perchance somewhere recorded as ours. I see that my -neighbor, who bears the familiar epithet William or Edwin, takes it -off with his jacket. It does not adhere to him when asleep or in -anger, or aroused by any passion or inspiration. I seem to hear -pronounced by some of his kin at such a time his original wild name in -some jaw-breaking or else melodious tongue. - - * * * * * - -Here is this vast, savage, howling mother of ours, Nature, lying all -around, with such beauty, and such affection for her children, as the -leopard; and yet we are so early weaned from her breast to society, to -that culture which is exclusively an interaction of man on man,--a -sort of breeding in and in, which produces at most a merely English -nobility, a civilization destined to have a speedy limit. - -In society, in the best institutions of men, it is easy to detect a -certain precocity. When we should still be growing children, we are -already little men. Give me a culture which imports much muck from -the meadows, and deepens the soil,--not that which trusts to heating -manures, and improved implements and modes of culture only! - -Many a poor sore-eyed student that I have heard of would grow faster, -both intellectually and physically, if, instead of sitting up so very -late, he honestly slumbered a fool's allowance. - -There may be an excess even of informing light. Niepce, a Frenchman, -discovered "actinism," that power in the sun's rays which produces a -chemical effect; that granite rocks, and stone structures, and statues -of metal "are all alike destructively acted upon during the hours of -sunshine, and, but for provisions of Nature no less wonderful, would -soon perish under the delicate touch of the most subtile of the -agencies of the universe." But he observed that "those bodies which -underwent this change during the daylight possessed the power of -restoring themselves to their original conditions during the hours of -night, when this excitement was no longer influencing them." Hence it -has been inferred that "the hours of darkness are as necessary to the -inorganic creation as we know night and sleep are to the organic -kingdom." Not even does the moon shine every night, but gives place to -darkness. - -I would not have every man nor every part of a man cultivated, any -more than I would have every acre of earth cultivated: part will be -tillage, but the greater part will be meadow and forest, not only -serving an immediate use, but preparing a mould against a distant -future, by the annual decay of the vegetation which it supports. - -There are other letters for the child to learn than those which Cadmus -invented. The Spaniards have a good term to express this wild and -dusky knowledge, _Gramatica parda_, tawny grammar, a kind of -mother-wit derived from that same leopard to which I have referred. - -We have heard of a Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. It -is said that knowledge is power, and the like. Methinks there is equal -need of a Society for the Diffusion of Useful Ignorance, what we will -call Beautiful Knowledge, a knowledge useful in a higher sense: for -what is most of our boasted so-called knowledge but a conceit that we -know something, which robs us of the advantage of our actual -ignorance? What we call knowledge is often our positive ignorance; -ignorance our negative knowledge. By long years of patient industry -and reading of the newspapers,--for what are the libraries of science -but files of newspapers?--a man accumulates a myriad facts, lays them -up in his memory, and then when in some spring of his life he saunters -abroad into the Great Fields of thought, he, as it were, goes to grass -like a horse and leaves all his harness behind in the stable. I would -say to the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, -sometimes,--Go to grass. You have eaten hay long enough. The spring -has come with its green crop. The very cows are driven to their -country pastures before the end of May; though I have heard of one -unnatural farmer who kept his cow in the barn and fed her on hay all -the year round. So, frequently, the Society for the Diffusion of -Useful Knowledge treats its cattle. - -A man's ignorance sometimes is not only useful, but beautiful,--while -his knowledge, so called, is oftentimes worse than useless, besides -being ugly. Which is the best man to deal with,--he who knows nothing -about a subject, and, what is extremely rare, knows that he knows -nothing, or he who really knows something about it, but thinks that he -knows all? - -My desire for knowledge is intermittent, but my desire to bathe my -head in atmospheres unknown to my feet is perennial and constant. The -highest that we can attain to is not Knowledge, but Sympathy with -Intelligence. I do not know that this higher knowledge amounts to -anything more definite than a novel and grand surprise on a sudden -revelation of the insufficiency of all that we called Knowledge -before,--a discovery that there are more things in heaven and earth -than are dreamed of in our philosophy. It is the lighting up of the -mist by the sun. Man cannot _know_ in any higher sense than this, any -more than he can look serenely and with impunity in the face of the -sun: [Greek: Hos ti noon, ou keinon noeseis], "You will not perceive -that, as perceiving a particular thing," say the Chaldean Oracles. - -There is something servile in the habit of seeking after a law which -we may obey. We may study the laws of matter at and for our -convenience, but a successful life knows no law. It is an unfortunate -discovery certainly, that of a law which binds us where we did not -know before that we were bound. Live free, child of the mist,--and -with respect to knowledge we are all children of the mist. The man who -takes the liberty to live is superior to all the laws, by virtue of -his relation to the lawmaker. "That is active duty," says the Vishnu -Purana, "which is not for our bondage; that is knowledge which is for -our liberation: all other duty is good only unto weariness; all other -knowledge is only the cleverness of an artist." - - * * * * * - -It is remarkable how few events or crises there are in our histories, -how little exercised we have been in our minds, how few experiences we -have had. I would fain be assured that I am growing apace and rankly, -though my very growth disturb this dull equanimity,--though it be with -struggle through long, dark, muggy nights or seasons of gloom. It -would be well if all our lives were a divine tragedy even, instead of -this trivial comedy or farce. Dante, Bunyan, and others appear to have -been exercised in their minds more than we: they were subjected to a -kind of culture such as our district schools and colleges do not -contemplate. Even Mahomet, though many may scream at his name, had a -good deal more to live for, aye, and to die for, than they have -commonly. - -When, at rare intervals, some thought visits one, as perchance he is -walking on a railroad, then, indeed, the cars go by without his -hearing them. But soon, by some inexorable law, our life goes by and -the cars return. - - "Gentle breeze, that wanderest unseen, - And bendest the thistles round Loira of storms, - Traveler of the windy glens, - Why hast thou left my ear so soon?" - -While almost all men feel an attraction drawing them to society, few -are attracted strongly to Nature. In their reaction to Nature men -appear to me for the most part, notwithstanding their arts, lower than -the animals. It is not often a beautiful relation, as in the case of -the animals. How little appreciation of the beauty of the landscape -there is among us! We have to be told that the Greeks called the world -[Greek: Kosmos], Beauty, or Order, but we do not see clearly why they -did so, and we esteem it at best only a curious philological fact. - -For my part, I feel that with regard to Nature I live a sort of border -life, on the confines of a world into which I make occasional and -transient forays only, and my patriotism and allegiance to the state -into whose territories I seem to retreat are those of a moss-trooper. -Unto a life which I call natural I would gladly follow even a -will-o'-the-wisp through bogs and sloughs unimaginable, but no moon -nor firefly has shown me the causeway to it. Nature is a personality -so vast and universal that we have never seen one of her features. The -walker in the familiar fields which stretch around my native town -sometimes finds himself in another land than is described in their -owners' deeds, as it were in some faraway field on the confines of the -actual Concord, where her jurisdiction ceases, and the idea which the -word Concord suggests ceases to be suggested. These farms which I have -myself surveyed, these bounds which I have set up, appear dimly still -as through a mist; but they have no chemistry to fix them; they fade -from the surface of the glass, and the picture which the painter -painted stands out dimly from beneath. The world with which we are -commonly acquainted leaves no trace, and it will have no anniversary. - - * * * * * - -I took a walk on Spaulding's Farm the other afternoon. I saw the -setting sun lighting up the opposite side of a stately pine wood. Its -golden rays straggled into the aisles of the wood as into some noble -hall. I was impressed as if some ancient and altogether admirable and -shining family had settled there in that part of the land called -Concord, unknown to me,--to whom the sun was servant,--who had not -gone into society in the village,--who had not been called on. I saw -their park, their pleasure-ground, beyond through the wood, in -Spaulding's cranberry-meadow. The pines furnished them with gables as -they grew. Their house was not obvious to vision; the trees grew -through it. I do not know whether I heard the sounds of a suppressed -hilarity or not. They seemed to recline on the sunbeams. They have -sons and daughters. They are quite well. The farmer's cart-path, which -leads directly through their hall, does not in the least put them out, -as the muddy bottom of a pool is sometimes seen through the reflected -skies. They never heard of Spaulding, and do not know that he is their -neighbor,--notwithstanding I heard him whistle as he drove his team -through the house. Nothing can equal the serenity of their lives. -Their coat-of-arms is simply a lichen. I saw it painted on the pines -and oaks. Their attics were in the tops of the trees. They are of no -politics. There was no noise of labor. I did not perceive that they -were weaving or spinning. Yet I did detect, when the wind lulled and -hearing was done away, the finest imaginable sweet musical hum,--as of -a distant hive in May,--which perchance was the sound of their -thinking. They had no idle thoughts, and no one without could see -their work, for their industry was not as in knots and excrescences -embayed. - -But I find it difficult to remember them. They fade irrevocably out of -my mind even now while I speak, and endeavor to recall them and -recollect myself. It is only after a long and serious effort to -recollect my best thoughts that I become again aware of their -cohabitancy. If it were not for such families as this, I think I -should move out of Concord. - - * * * * * - -We are accustomed to say in New England that few and fewer pigeons -visit us every year. Our forests furnish no mast for them. So, it -would seem, few and fewer thoughts visit each growing man from year to -year, for the grove in our minds is laid waste,--sold to feed -unnecessary fires of ambition, or sent to mill,--and there is scarcely -a twig left for them to perch on. They no longer build nor breed with -us. In some more genial season, perchance, a faint shadow flits across -the landscape of the mind, cast by the _wings_ of some thought in its -vernal or autumnal migration, but, looking up, we are unable to detect -the substance of the thought itself. Our winged thoughts are turned to -poultry. They no longer soar, and they attain only to a Shanghai and -Cochin-China grandeur. Those _gra-a-ate thoughts_, those _gra-a-ate -men_ you hear of! - - * * * * * - -We hug the earth,--how rarely we mount! Methinks we might elevate -ourselves a little more. We might climb a tree, at least. I found my -account in climbing a tree once. It was a tall white pine, on the top -of a hill; and though I got well pitched, I was well paid for it, for -I discovered new mountains in the horizon which I had never seen -before,--so much more of the earth and the heavens. I might have -walked about the foot of the tree for threescore years and ten, and -yet I certainly should never have seen them. But, above all, I -discovered around me,--it was near the end of June,--on the ends of -the topmost branches only, a few minute and delicate red cone-like -blossoms, the fertile flower of the white pine looking heavenward. I -carried straightway to the village the topmost spire, and showed it to -stranger jurymen who walked the streets,--for it was court week,--and -to farmers and lumber-dealers and woodchoppers and hunters, and not -one had ever seen the like before, but they wondered as at a star -dropped down. Tell of ancient architects finishing their works on the -tops of columns as perfectly as on the lower and more visible parts! -Nature has from the first expanded the minute blossoms of the forest -only toward the heavens, above men's heads and unobserved by them. We -see only the flowers that are under our feet in the meadows. The pines -have developed their delicate blossoms on the highest twigs of the -wood every summer for ages, as well over the heads of Nature's red -children as of her white ones; yet scarcely a farmer or hunter in the -land has ever seen them. - - * * * * * - -Above all, we cannot afford not to live in the present. He is blessed -over all mortals who loses no moment of the passing life in -remembering the past. Unless our philosophy hears the cock crow in -every barn-yard within our horizon, it is belated. That sound commonly -reminds us that we are growing rusty and antique in our employments -and habits of thought. His philosophy comes down to a more recent time -than ours. There is something suggested by it that is a newer -testament,--the gospel according to this moment. He has not fallen -astern; he has got up early and kept up early, and to be where he is -is to be in season, in the foremost rank of time. It is an expression -of the health and soundness of Nature, a brag for all the -world,--healthiness as of a spring burst forth, a new fountain of the -Muses, to celebrate this last instant of time. Where he lives no -fugitive slave laws are passed. Who has not betrayed his master many -times since last he heard that note? - -The merit of this bird's strain is in its freedom from all -plaintiveness. The singer can easily move us to tears or to laughter, -but where is he who can excite in us a pure morning joy? When, in -doleful dumps, breaking the awful stillness of our wooden sidewalk on -a Sunday, or, perchance, a watcher in the house of mourning, I hear a -cockerel crow far or near, I think to myself, "There is one of us -well, at any rate,"--and with a sudden gush return to my senses. - - * * * * * - -We had a remarkable sunset one day last November. I was walking in a -meadow, the source of a small brook, when the sun at last, just before -setting, after a cold, gray day, reached a clear stratum in the -horizon, and the softest, brightest morning sunlight fell on the dry -grass and on the stems of the trees in the opposite horizon and on the -leaves of the shrub oaks on the hillside, while our shadows stretched -long over the meadow eastward, as if we were the only motes in its -beams. It was such a light as we could not have imagined a moment -before, and the air also was so warm and serene that nothing was -wanting to make a paradise of that meadow. When we reflected that this -was not a solitary phenomenon, never to happen again, but that it -would happen forever and ever, an infinite number of evenings, and -cheer and reassure the latest child that walked there, it was more -glorious still. - -The sun sets on some retired meadow, where no house is visible, with -all the glory and splendor that it lavishes on cities, and perchance -as it has never set before,--where there is but a solitary marsh hawk -to have his wings gilded by it, or only a musquash looks out from his -cabin, and there is some little black-veined brook in the midst of the -marsh, just beginning to meander, winding slowly round a decaying -stump. We walked in so pure and bright a light, gilding the withered -grass and leaves, so softly and serenely bright, I thought I had never -bathed in such a golden flood, without a ripple or a murmur to it. The -west side of every wood and rising ground gleamed like the boundary of -Elysium, and the sun on our backs seemed like a gentle herdsman -driving us home at evening. - -So we saunter toward the Holy Land, till one day the sun shall shine -more brightly than ever he has done, shall perchance shine into our -minds and hearts, and light up our whole lives with a great awakening -light, as warm and serene and golden as on a bankside in autumn. - - - - -AUTUMNAL TINTS - - -Europeans coming to America are surprised by the brilliancy of our -autumnal foliage. There is no account of such a phenomenon in English -poetry, because the trees acquire but few bright colors there. The -most that Thomson says on this subject in his "Autumn" is contained in -the lines,-- - - "But see the fading many-colored woods - Shade deepening over shade, the country round - Imbrown; a crowded umbrage, dusk and dun, - Of every hue, from wan declining green - To sooty dark;" - -and in the line in which he speaks of - - "Autumn beaming o'er the yellow woods." - -The autumnal change of our woods has not made a deep impression on our -own literature yet. October has hardly tinged our poetry. - -A great many, who have spent their lives in cities, and have never -chanced to come into the country at this season, have never seen this, -the flower, or rather the ripe fruit, of the year. I remember riding -with one such citizen, who, though a fortnight too late for the most -brilliant tints, was taken by surprise, and would not believe that -there had been any brighter. He had never heard of this phenomenon -before. Not only many in our towns have never witnessed it, but it is -scarcely remembered by the majority from year to year. - -Most appear to confound changed leaves with withered ones, as if they -were to confound ripe apples with rotten ones. I think that the change -to some higher color in a leaf is an evidence that it has arrived at a -late and perfect maturity, answering to the maturity of fruits. It is -generally the lowest and oldest leaves which change first. But as the -perfect-winged and usually bright-colored insect is short-lived, so -the leaves ripen but to fall. - -Generally, every fruit, on ripening, and just before it falls, when it -commences a more independent and individual existence, requiring less -nourishment from any source, and that not so much from the earth -through its stem as from the sun and air, acquires a bright tint. So -do leaves. The physiologist says it is "due to an increased absorption -of oxygen." That is the scientific account of the matter,--only a -reassertion of the fact. But I am more interested in the rosy cheek -than I am to know what particular diet the maiden fed on. The very -forest and herbage, the pellicle of the earth, must acquire a bright -color, an evidence of its ripeness,--as if the globe itself were a -fruit on its stem, with ever a cheek toward the sun. - -Flowers are but colored leaves, fruits but ripe ones. The edible part -of most fruits is, as the physiologist says, "the parenchyma or fleshy -tissue of the leaf," of which they are formed. - -Our appetites have commonly confined our views of ripeness and its -phenomena, color, mellowness, and perfectness, to the fruits which we -eat, and we are wont to forget that an immense harvest which we do not -eat, hardly use at all, is annually ripened by Nature. At our annual -cattle-shows and horticultural exhibitions, we make, as we think, a -great show of fair fruits, destined, however, to a rather ignoble end, -fruits not valued for their beauty chiefly. But round about and within -our towns there is annually another show of fruits, on an infinitely -grander scale, fruits which address our taste for beauty alone. - -October is the month for painted leaves. Their rich glow now flashes -round the world. As fruits and leaves and the day itself acquire a -bright tint just before they fall, so the year near its setting. -October is its sunset sky; November the later twilight. - -I formerly thought that it would be worth the while to get a specimen -leaf from each changing tree, shrub, and herbaceous plant, when it had -acquired its brightest characteristic color, in its transition from -the green to the brown state, outline it, and copy its color exactly, -with paint, in a book, which should be entitled "October, or Autumnal -Tints,"--beginning with the earliest reddening woodbine and the lake -of radical leaves, and coming down through the maples, hickories, and -sumachs, and many beautifully freckled leaves less generally known, to -the latest oaks and aspens. What a memento such a book would be! You -would need only to turn over its leaves to take a ramble through the -autumn woods whenever you pleased. Or if I could preserve the leaves -themselves, unfaded, it would be better still. I have made but little -progress toward such a book, but I have endeavored, instead, to -describe all these bright tints in the order in which they present -themselves. The following are some extracts from my notes. - - -THE PURPLE GRASSES - -By the twentieth of August, everywhere in woods and swamps we are -reminded of the fall, both by the richly spotted sarsaparilla leaves -and brakes, and the withering and blackened skunk-cabbage and -hellebore, and, by the riverside, the already blackening pontederia. - -The purple grass (_Eragrostis pectinacea_) is now in the height of its -beauty. I remember still when I first noticed this grass particularly. -Standing on a hillside near our river, I saw, thirty or forty rods -off, a stripe of purple half a dozen rods long, under the edge of a -wood, where the ground sloped toward a meadow. It was as high-colored -and interesting, though not quite so bright, as the patches of rhexia, -being a darker purple, like a berry's stain laid on close and thick. -On going to and examining it, I found it to be a kind of grass in -bloom, hardly a foot high, with but few green blades, and a fine -spreading panicle of purple flowers, a shallow, purplish mist -trembling around me. Close at hand it appeared but a dull purple, and -made little impression on the eye; it was even difficult to detect; -and if you plucked a single plant, you were surprised to find how thin -it was, and how little color it had. But viewed at a distance in a -favorable light, it was of a fine lively purple, flower-like, -enriching the earth. Such puny causes combine to produce these decided -effects. I was the more surprised and charmed because grass is -commonly of a sober and humble color. - -With its beautiful purple blush it reminds me, and supplies the -place, of the rhexia, which is now leaving off, and it is one of the -most interesting phenomena of August. The finest patches of it grow on -waste strips or selvages of land at the base of dry hills, just above -the edge of the meadows, where the greedy mower does not deign to -swing his scythe; for this is a thin and poor grass, beneath his -notice. Or, it may be, because it is so beautiful he does not know -that it exists; for the same eye does not see this and timothy. He -carefully gets the meadow-hay and the more nutritious grasses which -grow next to that, but he leaves this fine purple mist for the -walker's harvest,--fodder for his fancy stock. Higher up the hill, -perchance, grow also blackberries, John's-wort, and neglected, -withered, and wiry June-grass. How fortunate that it grows in such -places, and not in the midst of the rank grasses which are annually -cut! Nature thus keeps use and beauty distinct. I know many such -localities, where it does not fail to present itself annually, and -paint the earth with its blush. It grows on the gentle slopes, either -in a continuous patch or in scattered and rounded tufts a foot in -diameter, and it lasts till it is killed by the first smart frosts. - -In most plants the corolla or calyx is the part which attains the -highest color, and is the most attractive; in many it is the -seed-vessel or fruit; in others, as the red maple, the leaves; and in -others still it is the very culm itself which is the principal flower -or blooming part. - -The last is especially the case with the poke or garget (_Phytolacca -decandra_). Some which stand under our cliffs quite dazzle me with -their purple stems now and early in September. They are as interesting -to me as most flowers, and one of the most important fruits of our -autumn. Every part is flower (or fruit), such is its superfluity of -color,--stem, branch, peduncle, pedicel, petiole, and even the at -length yellowish, purple-veined leaves. Its cylindrical racemes of -berries of various hues, from green to dark purple, six or seven -inches long, are gracefully drooping on all sides, offering repasts to -the birds; and even the sepals from which the birds have picked the -berries are a brilliant lake red, with crimson flame-like reflections, -equal to anything of the kind,--all on fire with ripeness. Hence the -_lacca_, from _lac_, lake. There are at the same time flower-buds, -flowers, green berries, dark-purple or ripe ones, and these -flower-like sepals, all on the same plant. - -We love to see any redness in the vegetation of the temperate zone. It -is the color of colors. This plant speaks to our blood. It asks a -bright sun on it to make it show to best advantage, and it must be -seen at this season of the year. On warm hillsides its stems are ripe -by the twenty-third of August. At that date I walked through a -beautiful grove of them, six or seven feet high, on the side of one of -our cliffs, where they ripen early. Quite to the ground they were a -deep, brilliant purple, with a bloom contrasting with the still clear -green leaves. It appears a rare triumph of Nature to have produced and -perfected such a plant, as if this were enough for a summer. What a -perfect maturity it arrives at! It is the emblem of a successful life -concluded by a death not premature, which is an ornament to Nature. -What if we were to mature as perfectly, root and branch, glowing in -the midst of our decay, like the poke! I confess that it excites me to -behold them. I cut one for a cane, for I would fain handle and lean on -it. I love to press the berries between my fingers, and see their -juice staining my hand. To walk amid these upright, branching casks of -purple wine, which retain and diffuse a sunset glow, tasting each one -with your eye, instead of counting the pipes on a London dock, what a -privilege! For Nature's vintage is not confined to the vine. Our poets -have sung of wine, the product of a foreign plant which commonly they -never saw, as if our own plants had no juice in them more than the -singers. Indeed, this has been called by some the American grape, and, -though a native of America, its juices are used in some foreign -countries to improve the color of the wine; so that the poetaster may -be celebrating the virtues of the poke without knowing it. Here are -berries enough to paint afresh the western sky, and play the bacchanal -with, if you will. And what flutes its ensanguined stems would make, -to be used in such a dance! It is truly a royal plant. I could spend -the evening of the year musing amid the poke stems. And perchance amid -these groves might arise at last a new school of philosophy or poetry. -It lasts all through September. - -At the same time with this, or near the end of August, a to me very -interesting genus of grasses, andropogons, or beard-grasses, is in its -prime: _Andropogon furcatus_, forked beard-grass, or call it -purple-fingered grass; _Andropogon scoparius_, purple wood-grass; and -_Andropogon_ (now called _Sorghum_) _nutans_, Indian-grass. The first -is a very tall and slender-culmed grass, three to seven feet high, -with four or five purple finger-like spikes raying upward from the -top. The second is also quite slender, growing in tufts two feet high -by one wide, with culms often somewhat curving, which, as the spikes -go out of bloom, have a whitish, fuzzy look. These two are prevailing -grasses at this season on dry and sandy fields and hillsides. The -culms of both, not to mention their pretty flowers, reflect a purple -tinge, and help to declare the ripeness of the year. Perhaps I have -the more sympathy with them because they are despised by the farmer, -and occupy sterile and neglected soil. They are high-colored, like -ripe grapes, and express a maturity which the spring did not suggest. -Only the August sun could have thus burnished these culms and leaves. -The farmer has long since done his upland haying, and he will not -condescend to bring his scythe to where these slender wild grasses -have at length flowered thinly; you often see spaces of bare sand amid -them. But I walk encouraged between the tufts of purple wood-grass -over the sandy fields, and along the edge of the shrub oaks, glad to -recognize these simple contemporaries. With thoughts cutting a broad -swathe I "get" them, with horse-raking thoughts I gather them into -windrows. The fine-eared poet may hear the whetting of my scythe. -These two were almost the first grasses that I learned to distinguish, -for I had not known by how many friends I was surrounded; I had seen -them simply as grasses standing. The purple of their culms also -excites me like that of the poke-weed stems. - -Think what refuge there is for one, before August is over, from -college commencements and society that isolates! I can skulk amid the -tufts of purple wood-grass on the borders of the "Great Fields." -Wherever I walk these afternoons, the purple-fingered grass also -stands like a guide-board, and points my thoughts to more poetic paths -than they have lately traveled. - -A man shall perhaps rush by and trample down plants as high as his -head, and cannot be said to know that they exist, though he may have -cut many tons of them, littered his stables with them, and fed them to -his cattle for years. Yet, if he ever favorably attends to them, he -may be overcome by their beauty. Each humblest plant, or weed, as we -call it, stands there to express some thought or mood of ours; and yet -how long it stands in vain! I had walked over those Great Fields so -many Augusts, and never yet distinctly recognized these purple -companions that I had there. I had brushed against them and trodden on -them, forsooth; and now, at last, they, as it were, rose up and -blessed me. Beauty and true wealth are always thus cheap and despised. -Heaven might be defined as the place which men avoid. Who can doubt -that these grasses, which the farmer says are of no account to him, -find some compensation in your appreciation of them? I may say that I -never saw them before; though, when I came to look them face to face, -there did come down to me a purple gleam from previous years; and now, -wherever I go, I see hardly anything else. It is the reign and -presidency of the andropogons. - -Almost the very sands confess the ripening influence of the August -sun, and methinks, together with the slender grasses waving over them, -reflect a purple tinge. The impurpled sands! Such is the consequence -of all this sunshine absorbed into the pores of plants and of the -earth. All sap or blood is now wine-colored. At last we have not only -the purple sea, but the purple land. - -The chestnut beard-grass, Indian-grass, or wood-grass, growing here -and there in waste places, but more rare than the former (from two to -four or five feet high), is still handsomer and of more vivid colors -than its congeners, and might well have caught the Indian's eye. It -has a long, narrow, one-sided, and slightly nodding panicle of bright -purple and yellow flowers, like a banner raised above its reedy -leaves. These bright standards are now advanced on the distant -hillsides, not in large armies, but in scattered troops or single -file, like the red men. They stand thus fair and bright, -representative of the race which they are named after, but for the -most part unobserved as they. The expression of this grass haunted me -for a week, after I first passed and noticed it, like the glance of an -eye. It stands like an Indian chief taking a last look at his favorite -hunting-grounds. - - -THE RED MAPLE - -By the twenty-fifth of September, the red maples generally are -beginning to be ripe. Some large ones have been conspicuously changing -for a week, and some single trees are now very brilliant. I notice a -small one, half a mile off across a meadow, against the green woodside -there, a far brighter red than the blossoms of any tree in summer, -and more conspicuous. I have observed this tree for several autumns -invariably changing earlier than its fellows, just as one tree ripens -its fruit earlier than another. It might serve to mark the season, -perhaps. I should be sorry if it were cut down. I know of two or three -such trees in different parts of our town, which might, perhaps, be -propagated from, as early ripeners or September trees, and their seed -be advertised in the market, as well as that of radishes, if we cared -as much about them. - -At present these burning bushes stand chiefly along the edge of the -meadows, or I distinguish them afar on the hillsides here and there. -Sometimes you will see many small ones in a swamp turned quite crimson -when all other trees around are still perfectly green, and the former -appear so much the brighter for it. They take you by surprise, as you -are going by on one side, across the fields, thus early in the season, -as if it were some gay encampment of the red men, or other foresters, -of whose arrival you had not heard. - -Some single trees, wholly bright scarlet, seen against others of their -kind still freshly green, or against evergreens, are more memorable -than whole groves will be by and by. How beautiful, when a whole tree -is like one great scarlet fruit full of ripe juices, every leaf, from -lowest limb to topmost spire, all aglow, especially if you look toward -the sun! What more remarkable object can there be in the landscape? -Visible for miles, too fair to be believed. If such a phenomenon -occurred but once, it would be handed down by tradition to posterity, -and get into the mythology at last. - -The whole tree thus ripening in advance of its fellows attains a -singular preeminence, and sometimes maintains it for a week or two. I -am thrilled at the sight of it, bearing aloft its scarlet standard for -the regiment of green-clad foresters around, and I go half a mile out -of my way to examine it. A single tree becomes thus the crowning -beauty of some meadowy vale, and the expression of the whole -surrounding forest is at once more spirited for it. - -A small red maple has grown, perchance, far away at the head of some -retired valley, a mile from any road, unobserved. It has faithfully -discharged the duties of a maple there, all winter and summer, -neglected none of its economies, but added to its stature in the -virtue which belongs to a maple, by a steady growth for so many -months, never having gone gadding abroad, and is nearer heaven than it -was in the spring. It has faithfully husbanded its sap, and afforded a -shelter to the wandering bird, has long since ripened its seeds and -committed them to the winds, and has the satisfaction of knowing, -perhaps, that a thousand little well-behaved maples are already -settled in life somewhere. It deserves well of Mapledom. Its leaves -have been asking it from time to time, in a whisper, "When shall we -redden?" And now, in this month of September, this month of traveling, -when men are hastening to the seaside, or the mountains, or the lakes, -this modest maple, still without budging an inch, travels in its -reputation,--runs up its scarlet flag on that hillside, which shows -that it has finished its summer's work before all other trees, and -withdraws from the contest. At the eleventh hour of the year, the -tree which no scrutiny could have detected here when it was most -industrious is thus, by the tint of its maturity, by its very blushes, -revealed at last to the careless and distant traveler, and leads his -thoughts away from the dusty road into those brave solitudes which it -inhabits. It flashes out conspicuous with all the virtue and beauty of -a maple,--_Acer rubrum_. We may now read its title, or _rubric_, -clear. Its _virtues_, not its sins, are as scarlet. - -Notwithstanding the red maple is the most intense scarlet of any of -our trees, the sugar maple has been the most celebrated, and Michaux -in his "Sylva" does not speak of the autumnal color of the former. -About the second of October, these trees, both large and small, are -most brilliant, though many are still green. In "sprout-lands" they -seem to vie with one another, and ever some particular one in the -midst of the crowd will be of a peculiarly pure scarlet, and by its -more intense color attract our eye even at a distance, and carry off -the palm. A large red maple swamp, when at the height of its change, -is the most obviously brilliant of all tangible things, where I dwell, -so abundant is this tree with us. It varies much both in form and -color. A great many are merely yellow; more, scarlet; others, scarlet -deepening into crimson, more red than common. Look at yonder swamp of -maples mixed with pines, at the base of a pine-clad hill, a quarter of -a mile off, so that you get the full effect of the bright colors, -without detecting the imperfections of the leaves, and see their -yellow, scarlet, and crimson fires, of all tints, mingled and -contrasted with the green. Some maples are yet green, only yellow or -crimson-tipped on the edges of their flakes, like the edges of a -hazelnut bur; some are wholly brilliant scarlet, raying out regularly -and finely every way, bilaterally, like the veins of a leaf; others, -of more irregular form, when I turn my head slightly, emptying out -some of its earthiness and concealing the trunk of the tree, seem to -rest heavily flake on flake, like yellow and scarlet clouds, wreath -upon wreath, or like snow-drifts driving through the air, stratified -by the wind. It adds greatly to the beauty of such a swamp at this -season, that, even though there may be no other trees interspersed, it -is not seen as a simple mass of color, but, different trees being of -different colors and hues, the outline of each crescent treetop is -distinct, and where one laps on to another. Yet a painter would hardly -venture to make them thus distinct a quarter of a mile off. - -As I go across a meadow directly toward a low rising ground this -bright afternoon, I see, some fifty rods off toward the sun, the top -of a maple swamp just appearing over the sheeny russet edge of the -hill, a stripe apparently twenty rods long by ten feet deep, of the -most intensely brilliant scarlet, orange, and yellow, equal to any -flowers or fruits, or any tints ever painted. As I advance, lowering -the edge of the hill which makes the firm foreground or lower frame of -the picture, the depth of the brilliant grove revealed steadily -increases, suggesting that the whole of the inclosed valley is filled -with such color. One wonders that the tithing-men and fathers of the -town are not out to see what the trees mean by their high colors and -exuberance of spirits, fearing that some mischief is brewing. I do not -see what the Puritans did at this season, when the maples blaze out in -scarlet. They certainly could not have worshiped in groves then. -Perhaps that is what they built meeting-houses and fenced them round -with horse-sheds for. - - -THE ELM - -Now too, the first of October, or later, the elms are at the height of -their autumnal beauty,--great brownish-yellow masses, warm from their -September oven, hanging over the highway. Their leaves are perfectly -ripe. I wonder if there is any answering ripeness in the lives of the -men who live beneath them. As I look down our street, which is lined -with them, they remind me both by their form and color of yellowing -sheaves of grain, as if the harvest had indeed come to the village -itself, and we might expect to find some maturity and _flavor_ in the -thoughts of the villagers at last. Under those bright rustling yellow -piles just ready to fall on the heads of the walkers, how can any -crudity or greenness of thought or act prevail? When I stand where -half a dozen large elms droop over a house, it is as if I stood within -a ripe pumpkin-rind, and I feel as mellow as if I were the pulp, -though I may be somewhat stringy and seedy withal. What is the late -greenness of the English elm, like a cucumber out of season, which -does not know when to have done, compared with the early and golden -maturity of the American tree? The street is the scene of a great -harvest-home. It would be worth the while to set out these trees, if -only for their autumnal value. Think of these great yellow canopies -or parasols held over our heads and houses by the mile together, -making the village all one and compact,--an _ulmarium_, which is at -the same time a nursery of men! And then how gently and unobserved -they drop their burden and let in the sun when it is wanted, their -leaves not heard when they fall on our roofs and in our streets; and -thus the village parasol is shut up and put away! I see the market-man -driving into the village, and disappearing under its canopy of -elm-tops, with _his_ crop, as into a great granary or barn-yard. I am -tempted to go thither as to a husking of thoughts, now dry and ripe, -and ready to be separated from their integuments; but, alas! I foresee -that it will be chiefly husks and little thought, blasted pig-corn, -fit only for cob-meal,--for, as you sow, so shall you reap. - - -FALLEN LEAVES - -By the sixth of October the leaves generally begin to fall, in -successive showers, after frost or rain; but the principal -leaf-harvest, the acme of the _Fall_, is commonly about the sixteenth. -Some morning at that date there is perhaps a harder frost than we have -seen, and ice formed under the pump, and now, when the morning wind -rises, the leaves come down in denser showers than ever. They suddenly -form thick beds or carpets on the ground, in this gentle air, or even -without wind, just the size and form of the tree above. Some trees, as -small hickories, appear to have dropped their leaves instantaneously, -as a soldier grounds arms at a signal; and those of the hickory, -being bright yellow still, though withered, reflect a blaze of light -from the ground where they lie. Down they have come on all sides, at -the first earnest touch of autumn's wand, making a sound like rain. - -Or else it is after moist and rainy weather that we notice how great a -fall of leaves there has been in the night, though it may not yet be -the touch that loosens the rock maple leaf. The streets are thickly -strewn with the trophies, and fallen elm leaves make a dark brown -pavement under our feet. After some remarkably warm Indian-summer day -or days, I perceive that it is the unusual heat which, more than -anything, causes the leaves to fall, there having been, perhaps, no -frost nor rain for some time. The intense heat suddenly ripens and -wilts them, just as it softens and ripens peaches and other fruits, -and causes them to drop. - -The leaves of late red maples, still bright, strew the earth, often -crimson-spotted on a yellow ground, like some wild apples,--though -they preserve these bright colors on the ground but a day or two, -especially if it rains. On causeways I go by trees here and there all -bare and smoke-like, having lost their brilliant clothing; but there -it lies, nearly as bright as ever, on the ground on one side, and -making nearly as regular a figure as lately on the tree. I would -rather say that I first observe the trees thus flat on the ground like -a permanent colored shadow, and they suggest to look for the boughs -that bore them. A queen might be proud to walk where these gallant -trees have spread their bright cloaks in the mud. I see wagons roll -over them as a shadow or a reflection, and the drivers heed them just -as little as they did their shadows before. - -Birds' nests, in the huckleberry and other shrubs, and in trees, are -already being filled with the withered leaves. So many have fallen in -the woods that a squirrel cannot run after a falling nut without being -heard. Boys are raking them in the streets, if only for the pleasure -of dealing with such clean, crisp substances. Some sweep the paths -scrupulously neat, and then stand to see the next breath strew them -with new trophies. The swamp floor is thickly covered, and the -_Lycopodium lucidulum_ looks suddenly greener amid them. In dense -woods they half cover pools that are three or four rods long. The -other day I could hardly find a well-known spring, and even suspected -that it had dried up, for it was completely concealed by freshly -fallen leaves; and when I swept them aside and revealed it, it was -like striking the earth, with Aaron's rod, for a new spring. Wet -grounds about the edges of swamps look dry with them. At one swamp, -where I was surveying, thinking to step on a leafy shore from a rail, -I got into the water more than a foot deep. - -When I go to the river the day after the principal fall of leaves, the -sixteenth, I find my boat all covered, bottom and seats, with the -leaves of the golden willow under which it is moored, and I set sail -with a cargo of them rustling under my feet. If I empty it, it will be -full again to-morrow. I do not regard them as litter, to be swept out, -but accept them as suitable straw or matting for the bottom of my -carriage. When I turn up into the mouth of the Assabet, which is -wooded, large fleets of leaves are floating on its surface, as it -were getting out to sea, with room to tack; but next the shore, a -little farther up, they are thicker than foam, quite concealing the -water for a rod in width, under and amid the alders, button-bushes, -and maples, still perfectly light and dry, with fibre unrelaxed; and -at a rocky bend where they are met and stopped by the morning wind, -they sometimes form a broad and dense crescent quite across the river. -When I turn my prow that way, and the wave which it makes strikes -them, list what a pleasant rustling from these dry substances getting -on one another! Often it is their undulation only which reveals the -water beneath them. Also every motion of the wood turtle on the shore -is betrayed by their rustling there. Or even in mid-channel, when the -wind rises, I hear them blown with a rustling sound. Higher up they -are slowly moving round and round in some great eddy which the river -makes, as that at the "Leaning Hemlocks," where the water is deep, and -the current is wearing into the bank. - -Perchance, in the afternoon of such a day, when the water is perfectly -calm and full of reflections, I paddle gently down the main stream, -and, turning up the Assabet, reach a quiet cove, where I unexpectedly -find myself surrounded by myriads of leaves, like fellow-voyagers, -which seem to have the same purpose, or want of purpose, with myself. -See this great fleet of scattered leaf-boats which we paddle amid, in -this smooth river-bay, each one curled up on every side by the sun's -skill, each nerve a stiff spruce knee,--like boats of hide, and of all -patterns,--Charon's boat probably among the rest,--and some with -lofty prows and poops, like the stately vessels of the ancients, -scarcely moving in the sluggish current,--like the great fleets, the -dense Chinese cities of boats, with which you mingle on entering some -great mart, some New York or Canton, which we are all steadily -approaching together. How gently each has been deposited on the water! -No violence has been used towards them yet, though, perchance, -palpitating hearts were present at the launching. And painted ducks, -too, the splendid wood duck among the rest, often come to sail and -float amid the painted leaves,--barks of a nobler model still! - -What wholesome herb drinks are to be had in the swamps now! What -strong medicinal but rich scents from the decaying leaves! The rain -falling on the freshly dried herbs and leaves, and filling the pools -and ditches into which they have dropped thus clean and rigid, will -soon convert them into tea,--green, black, brown, and yellow teas, of -all degrees of strength, enough to set all Nature a-gossiping. Whether -we drink them or not, as yet, before their strength is drawn, these -leaves, dried on great Nature's coppers, are of such various pure and -delicate tints as might make the fame of Oriental teas. - -How they are mixed up, of all species, oak and maple and chestnut and -birch! But Nature is not cluttered with them; she is a perfect -husbandman; she stores them all. Consider what a vast crop is thus -annually shed on the earth! This, more than any mere grain or seed, is -the great harvest of the year. The trees are now repaying the earth -with interest what they have taken from it. They are discounting. -They are about to add a leaf's thickness to the depth of the soil. -This is the beautiful way in which Nature gets her muck, while I -chaffer with this man and that, who talks to me about sulphur and the -cost of carting. We are all the richer for their decay. I am more -interested in this crop than in the English grass alone or in the -corn. It prepares the virgin mould for future corn-fields and forests, -on which the earth fattens. It keeps our homestead in good heart. - -For beautiful variety no crop can be compared with this. Here is not -merely the plain yellow of the grains, but nearly all the colors that -we know, the brightest blue not excepted: the early blushing maple, -the poison sumach blazing its sins as scarlet, the mulberry ash, the -rich chrome yellow of the poplars, the brilliant red huckleberry, with -which the hills' backs are painted, like those of sheep. The frost -touches them, and, with the slightest breath of returning day or -jarring of earth's axle, see in what showers they come floating down! -The ground is all parti-colored with them. But they still live in the -soil, whose fertility and bulk they increase, and in the forests that -spring from it. They stoop to rise, to mount higher in coming years, -by subtle chemistry, climbing by the sap in the trees; and the -sapling's first fruits thus shed, transmuted at last, may adorn its -crown, when, in after years, it has become the monarch of the forest. - -It is pleasant to walk over the beds of these fresh, crisp, and -rustling leaves. How beautifully they go to their graves! how gently -lay themselves down and turn to mould!--painted of a thousand hues, -and fit to make the beds of us living. So they troop to their last -resting-place, light and frisky. They put on no weeds, but merrily -they go scampering over the earth, selecting the spot, choosing a lot, -ordering no iron fence, whispering all through the woods about -it,--some choosing the spot where the bodies of men are mouldering -beneath, and meeting them half-way. How many flutterings before they -rest quietly in their graves! They that soared so loftily, how -contentedly they return to dust again, and are laid low, resigned to -lie and decay at the foot of the tree, and afford nourishment to new -generations of their kind, as well as to flutter on high! They teach -us how to die. One wonders if the time will ever come when men, with -their boasted faith in immortality, will lie down as gracefully and as -ripe,--with such an Indian-summer serenity will shed their bodies, as -they do their hair and nails. - -When the leaves fall, the whole earth is a cemetery pleasant to walk -in. I love to wander and muse over them in their graves. Here are no -lying nor vain epitaphs. What though you own no lot at Mount Auburn? -Your lot is surely cast somewhere in this vast cemetery, which has -been consecrated from of old. You need attend no auction to secure a -place. There is room enough here. The loosestrife shall bloom and the -huckleberry-bird sing over your bones. The woodman and hunter shall be -your sextons, and the children shall tread upon the borders as much as -they will. Let us walk in the cemetery of the leaves; this is your -true Greenwood Cemetery. - - - [Illustration: _Fallen Leaves_] - -THE SUGAR MAPLE - -But think not that the splendor of the year is over; for as one leaf -does not make a summer, neither does one falling leaf make an autumn. -The smallest sugar maples in our streets make a great show as early as -the fifth of October, more than any other trees there. As I look up -the main street, they appear like painted screens standing before the -houses; yet many are green. But now, or generally by the seventeenth -of October, when almost all red maples and some white maples are bare, -the large sugar maples also are in their glory, glowing with yellow -and red, and show unexpectedly bright and delicate tints. They are -remarkable for the contrast they often afford of deep blushing red on -one half and green on the other. They become at length dense masses of -rich yellow with a deep scarlet blush, or more than blush, on the -exposed surfaces. They are the brightest trees now in the street. - -The large ones on our Common are particularly beautiful. A delicate -but warmer than golden yellow is now the prevailing color, with -scarlet cheeks. Yet, standing on the east side of the Common just -before sundown, when the western light is transmitted through them, I -see that their yellow even, compared with the pale lemon yellow of an -elm close by, amounts to a scarlet, without noticing the bright -scarlet portions. Generally, they are great regular oval masses of -yellow and scarlet. All the sunny warmth of the season, the Indian -summer, seems to be absorbed in their leaves. The lowest and inmost -leaves next the bole are, as usual, of the most delicate yellow and -green, like the complexion of young men brought up in the house. There -is an auction on the Common to-day, but its red flag is hard to be -discerned amid this blaze of color. - -Little did the fathers of the town anticipate this brilliant success, -when they caused to be imported from farther in the country some -straight poles with their tops cut off, which they called sugar -maples; and, as I remember, after they were set out, a neighboring -merchant's clerk, by way of jest, planted beans about them. Those -which were then jestingly called bean-poles are to-day far the most -beautiful objects noticeable in our streets. They are worth all and -more than they have cost,--though one of the selectmen, while setting -them out, took the cold which occasioned his death,--if only because -they have filled the open eyes of children with their rich color -unstintedly so many Octobers. We will not ask them to yield us sugar -in the spring, while they afford us so fair a prospect in the autumn. -Wealth indoors may be the inheritance of few, but it is equally -distributed on the Common. All children alike can revel in this golden -harvest. - -Surely trees should be set in our streets with a view to their October -splendor, though I doubt whether this is ever considered by the "Tree -Society." Do you not think it will make some odds to these children -that they were brought up under the maples? Hundreds of eyes are -steadily drinking in this color, and by these teachers even the -truants are caught and educated the moment they step abroad. Indeed, -neither the truant nor the studious is at present taught color in the -schools. These are instead of the bright colors in apothecaries' -shops and city windows. It is a pity that we have no more _red_ -maples, and some hickories, in our streets as well. Our paint-box is -very imperfectly filled. Instead of, or beside, supplying such -paint-boxes as we do, we might supply these natural colors to the -young. Where else will they study color under greater advantages? What -School of Design can vie with this? Think how much the eyes of -painters of all kinds, and of manufacturers of cloth and paper, and -paper-stainers, and countless others, are to be educated by these -autumnal colors. The stationer's envelopes may be of very various -tints, yet not so various as those of the leaves of a single tree. If -you want a different shade or tint of a particular color, you have -only to look farther within or without the tree or the wood. These -leaves are not many dipped in one dye, as at the dye-house, but they -are dyed in light of infinitely various degrees of strength and left -to set and dry there. - -Shall the names of so many of our colors continue to be derived from -those of obscure foreign localities, as Naples yellow, Prussian blue, -raw Sienna, burnt Umber, Gamboge? (surely the Tyrian purple must have -faded by this time), or from comparatively trivial articles of -commerce,--chocolate, lemon, coffee, cinnamon, claret? (shall we -compare our hickory to a lemon, or a lemon to a hickory?) or from ores -and oxides which few ever see? Shall we so often, when describing to -our neighbors the color of something we have seen, refer them, not to -some natural object in our neighborhood, but perchance to a bit of -earth fetched from the other side of the planet, which possibly they -may find at the apothecary's, but which probably neither they nor we -ever saw? Have we not an _earth_ under our feet,--aye, and a sky over -our heads? Or is the last _all_ ultramarine? What do we know of -sapphire, amethyst, emerald, ruby, amber, and the like,--most of us -who take these names in vain? Leave these precious words to -cabinet-keepers, virtuosos, and maids-of-honor,--to the Nabobs, -Begums, and Chobdars of Hindostan, or wherever else. I do not see why, -since America and her autumn woods have been discovered, our leaves -should not compete with the precious stones in giving names to colors; -and, indeed, I believe that in course of time the names of some of our -trees and shrubs, as well as flowers, will get into our popular -chromatic nomenclature. - -But of much more importance than a knowledge of the names and -distinctions of color is the joy and exhilaration which these colored -leaves excite. Already these brilliant trees throughout the street, -without any more variety, are at least equal to an annual festival and -holiday, or a week of such. These are cheap and innocent gala-days, -celebrated by one and all without the aid of committees or marshals, -such a show as may safely be licensed, not attracting gamblers or -rum-sellers, not requiring any special police to keep the peace. And -poor indeed must be that New England village's October which has not -the maple in its streets. This October festival costs no powder, nor -ringing of bells, but every tree is a living liberty-pole on which a -thousand bright flags are waving. - -No wonder that we must have our annual cattle-show, and fall training, -and perhaps cornwallis, our September courts, and the like. Nature -herself holds her annual fair in October, not only in the streets, but -in every hollow and on every hillside. When lately we looked into that -red maple swamp all ablaze, where the trees were clothed in their -vestures of most dazzling tints, did it not suggest a thousand gypsies -beneath,--a race capable of wild delight,--or even the fabled fauns, -satyrs, and wood-nymphs come back to earth? Or was it only a -congregation of wearied woodchoppers, or of proprietors come to -inspect their lots, that we thought of? Or, earlier still, when we -paddled on the river through that fine-grained September air, did -there not appear to be something new going on under the sparkling -surface of the stream, a shaking of props, at least, so that we made -haste in order to be up in time? Did not the rows of yellowing willows -and button-bushes on each side seem like rows of booths, under which, -perhaps, some fluviatile egg-pop equally yellow was effervescing? Did -not all these suggest that man's spirits should rise as high as -Nature's,--should hang out their flag, and the routine of his life be -interrupted by an analogous expression of joy and hilarity? - -No annual training or muster of soldiery, no celebration with its -scarfs and banners, could import into the town a hundredth part of the -annual splendor of our October. We have only to set the trees, or let -them stand, and Nature will find the colored drapery,--flags of all -her nations, some of whose private signals hardly the botanist can -read,--while we walk under the triumphal arches of the elms. Leave it -to Nature to appoint the days, whether the same as in neighboring -States or not, and let the clergy read her proclamations, if they can -understand them. Behold what a brilliant drapery is her woodbine flag! -What public-spirited merchant, think you, has contributed this part of -the show? There is no handsomer shingling and paint than this vine, at -present covering a whole side of some houses. I do not believe that -the ivy _never sere_ is comparable to it. No wonder it has been -extensively introduced into London. Let us have a good many maples and -hickories and scarlet oaks, then, I say. Blaze away! Shall that dirty -roll of bunting in the gun-house be all the colors a village can -display? A village is not complete, unless it have these trees to mark -the season in it. They are important, like the town clock. A village -that has them not will not be found to work well. It has a screw -loose, an essential part is wanting. Let us have willows for spring, -elms for summer, maples and walnuts and tupeloes for autumn, -evergreens for winter, and oaks for all seasons. What is a gallery in -a house to a gallery in the streets, which every market-man rides -through, whether he will or not? Of course, there is not a -picture-gallery in the country which would be worth so much to us as -is the western view at sunset under the elms of our main street. They -are the frame to a picture which is daily painted behind them. An -avenue of elms as large as our largest and three miles long would seem -to lead to some admirable place, though only C---- were at the end of -it. - -A village needs these innocent stimulants of bright and cheering -prospects to keep off melancholy and superstition. Show me two -villages, one embowered in trees and blazing with all the glories of -October, the other a merely trivial and treeless waste, or with only a -single tree or two for suicides, and I shall be sure that in the -latter will be found the most starved and bigoted religionists and the -most desperate drinkers. Every wash-tub and milk-can and gravestone -will be exposed. The inhabitants will disappear abruptly behind their -barns and houses, like desert Arabs amid their rocks, and I shall look -to see spears in their hands. They will be ready to accept the most -barren and forlorn doctrine,--as that the world is speedily coming to -an end, or has already got to it, or that they themselves are turned -wrong side outward. They will perchance crack their dry joints at one -another and call it a spiritual communication. - -But to confine ourselves to the maples. What if we were to take half -as much pains in protecting them as we do in setting them out,--not -stupidly tie our horses to our dahlia stems? - -What meant the fathers by establishing this _perfectly living_ -institution before the church,--this institution which needs no -repairing nor repainting, which is continually enlarged and repaired -by its growth? Surely they - - "Wrought in a sad sincerity; - Themselves from God they could not free; - They _planted_ better than they knew;-- - The conscious _trees_ to beauty grew." - -Verily these maples are cheap preachers, permanently settled, which -preach their half-century, and century, aye, and century-and-a-half -sermons, with constantly increasing unction and influence, ministering -to many generations of men; and the least we can do is to supply them -with suitable colleagues as they grow infirm. - - -THE SCARLET OAK - -Belonging to a genus which is remarkable for the beautiful form of its -leaves, I suspect that some scarlet oak leaves surpass those of all -other oaks in the rich and wild beauty of their outlines. I judge from -an acquaintance with twelve species, and from drawings which I have -seen of many others. - -Stand under this tree and see how finely its leaves are cut against -the sky,--as it were, only a few sharp points extending from a midrib. -They look like double, treble, or quadruple crosses. They are far more -ethereal than the less deeply scalloped oak leaves. They have so -little leafy _terra firma_ that they appear melting away in the light, -and scarcely obstruct our view. The leaves of very young plants are, -like those of full-grown oaks of other species, more entire, simple, -and lumpish in their outlines, but these, raised high on old trees, -have solved the leafy problem. Lifted higher and higher, and -sublimated more and more, putting off some earthiness and cultivating -more intimacy with the light each year, they have at length the least -possible amount of earthy matter, and the greatest spread and grasp of -skyey influences. There they dance, arm in arm with the -light,--tripping it on fantastic points, fit partners in those aerial -halls. So intimately mingled are they with it, that, what with their -slenderness and their glossy surfaces, you can hardly tell at last -what in the dance is leaf and what is light. And when no zephyr stirs, -they are at most but a rich tracery to the forest windows. - -I am again struck with their beauty, when, a month later, they thickly -strew the ground in the woods, piled one upon another under my feet. -They are then brown above, but purple beneath. With their narrow lobes -and their bold, deep scallops reaching almost to the middle, they -suggest that the material must be cheap, or else there has been a -lavish expense in their creation, as if so much had been cut out. Or -else they seem to us the remnants of the stuff out of which leaves -have been cut with a die. Indeed, when they lie thus one upon another, -they remind me of a pile of scrap-tin. - -Or bring one home, and study it closely at your leisure, by the -fireside. It is a type, not from any Oxford font, not in the Basque -nor the arrow-headed character, not found on the Rosetta Stone, but -destined to be copied in sculpture one day, if they ever get to -whittling stone here. What a wild and pleasing outline, a combination -of graceful curves and angles! The eye rests with equal delight on -what is not leaf and on what is leaf,--on the broad, free, open -sinuses, and on the long, sharp, bristle-pointed lobes. A simple oval -outline would include it all, if you connected the points of the leaf; -but how much richer is it than that, with its half-dozen deep -scallops, in which the eye and thought of the beholder are embayed! If -I were a drawing-master, I would set my pupils to copying these -leaves, that they might learn to draw firmly and gracefully. - -Regarded as water, it is like a pond with half a dozen broad rounded -promontories extending nearly to its middle, half from each side, -while its watery bays extend far inland, like sharp friths, at each of -whose heads several fine streams empty in,--almost a leafy -archipelago. - -But it oftener suggests land, and, as Dionysius and Pliny compared the -form of the Morea to that of the leaf of the Oriental plane tree, so -this leaf reminds me of some fair wild island in the ocean, whose -extensive coast, alternate rounded bays with smooth strands, and -sharp-pointed rocky capes, mark it as fitted for the habitation of -man, and destined to become a centre of civilization at last. To the -sailor's eye, it is a much indented shore. Is it not, in fact, a shore -to the aerial ocean, on which the windy surf beats? At sight of this -leaf we are all mariners,--if not vikings, buccaneers, and -filibusters. Both our love of repose and our spirit of adventure are -addressed. In our most casual glance, perchance, we think that if we -succeed in doubling those sharp capes we shall find deep, smooth, and -secure havens in the ample bays. How different from the white oak -leaf, with its rounded headlands, on which no lighthouse need be -placed! That is an England, with its long civil history, that may be -read. This is some still unsettled New-found Island or Celebes. Shall -we go and be rajahs there? - -By the twenty-sixth of October the large scarlet oaks are in their -prime, when other oaks are usually withered. They have been kindling -their fires for a week past, and now generally burst into a blaze. -This alone of _our_ indigenous deciduous trees (excepting the -dogwood, of which I do not know half a dozen, and they are but large -bushes) is now in its glory. The two aspens and the sugar maple come -nearest to it in date, but they have lost the greater part of their -leaves. Of evergreens, only the pitch pine is still commonly bright. - -But it requires a particular alertness, if not devotion to these -phenomena, to appreciate the wide-spread, but late and unexpected -glory of the scarlet oaks. I do not speak here of the small trees and -shrubs, which are commonly observed, and which are now withered, but -of the large trees. Most go in and shut their doors, thinking that -bleak and colorless November has already come, when some of the most -brilliant and memorable colors are not yet lit. - -This very perfect and vigorous one, about forty feet high, standing in -an open pasture, which was quite glossy green on the twelfth, is now, -the twenty-sixth, completely changed to bright dark-scarlet,--every -leaf, between you and the sun, as if it had been dipped into a scarlet -dye. The whole tree is much like a heart in form, as well as color. -Was not this worth waiting for? Little did you think, ten days ago, -that that cold green tree would assume such color as this. Its leaves -are still firmly attached, while those of other trees are falling -around it. It seems to say: "I am the last to blush, but I blush -deeper than any of ye. I bring up the rear in my red coat. We scarlet -ones, alone of oaks, have not given up the fight." - -The sap is now, and even far into November, frequently flowing fast in -these trees, as in maples in the spring; and apparently their bright -tints, now that most other oaks are withered, are connected with this -phenomenon. They are full of life. It has a pleasantly astringent, -acorn-like taste, this strong oak wine, as I find on tapping them with -my knife. - -Looking across this woodland valley, a quarter of a mile wide, how -rich those scarlet oaks embosomed in pines, their bright red branches -intimately intermingled with them! They have their full effect there. -The pine boughs are the green calyx to their red petals. Or, as we go -along a road in the woods, the sun striking endwise through it, and -lighting up the red tents of the oaks, which on each side are mingled -with the liquid green of the pines, makes a very gorgeous scene. -Indeed, without the evergreens for contrast, the autumnal tints would -lose much of their effect. - -The scarlet oak asks a clear sky and the brightness of late October -days. These bring out its colors. If the sun goes into a cloud they -become comparatively indistinct. As I sit on a cliff in the southwest -part of our town, the sun is now getting low, and the woods in -Lincoln, south and east of me, are lit up by its more level rays; and -in the scarlet oaks, scattered so equally over the forest, there is -brought out a more brilliant redness than I had believed was in them. -Every tree of this species which is visible in those directions, even -to the horizon, now stands out distinctly red. Some great ones lift -their red backs high above the woods, in the next town, like huge -roses with a myriad of fine petals; and some more slender ones, in a -small grove of white pines on Pine Hill in the east, on the very verge -of the horizon, alternating with the pines on the edge of the grove, -and shouldering them with their red coats, look like soldiers in red -amid hunters in green. This time it is Lincoln green, too. Till the -sun got low, I did not believe that there were so many redcoats in the -forest army. Theirs is an intense, burning red, which would lose some -of its strength, methinks, with every step you might take toward them; -for the shade that lurks amid their foliage does not report itself at -this distance, and they are unanimously red. The focus of their -reflected color is in the atmosphere far on this side. Every such tree -becomes a nucleus of red, as it were, where, with the declining sun, -that color grows and glows. It is partly borrowed fire, gathering -strength from the sun on its way to your eye. It has only some -comparatively dull red leaves for a rallying-point, or kindling-stuff, -to start it, and it becomes an intense scarlet or red mist, or fire, -which finds fuel for itself in the very atmosphere. So vivacious is -redness. The very rails reflect a rosy light at this hour and season. -You see a redder tree than exists. - -If you wish to count the scarlet oaks, do it now. In a clear day stand -thus on a hilltop in the woods, when the sun is an hour high, and -every one within range of your vision, excepting in the west, will be -revealed. You might live to the age of Methuselah and never find a -tithe of them, otherwise. Yet sometimes even in a dark day I have -thought them as bright as I ever saw them. Looking westward, their -colors are lost in a blaze of light; but in other directions the whole -forest is a flower-garden, in which these late roses burn, alternating -with green, while the so-called "gardeners," walking here and there, -perchance, beneath, with spade and water-pot, see only a few little -asters amid withered leaves. - -These are _my_ China-asters, _my_ late garden-flowers. It costs me -nothing for a gardener. The falling leaves, all over the forest, are -protecting the roots of my plants. Only look at what is to be seen, -and you will have garden enough, without deepening the soil in your -yard. We have only to elevate our view a little, to see the whole -forest as a garden. The blossoming of the scarlet oak,--the -forest-flower, surpassing all in splendor (at least since the maple)! -I do not know but they interest me more than the maples, they are so -widely and equally dispersed throughout the forest; they are so hardy, -a nobler tree on the whole; our chief November flower, abiding the -approach of winter with us, imparting warmth to early November -prospects. It is remarkable that the latest bright color that is -general should be this deep, dark scarlet and red, the intensest of -colors. The ripest fruit of the year; like the cheek of a hard, glossy -red apple, from the cold Isle of Orleans, which will not be mellow for -eating till next spring! When I rise to a hilltop, a thousand of these -great oak roses, distributed on every side, as far as the horizon! I -admire them four or five miles off! This my unfailing prospect for a -fortnight past! This late forest-flower surpasses all that spring or -summer could do. Their colors were but rare and dainty specks -comparatively (created for the near-sighted, who walk amid the -humblest herbs and underwoods), and made no impression on a distant -eye. Now it is an extended forest or a mountain-side, through or along -which we journey from day to day, that bursts into bloom. -Comparatively, our gardening is on a petty scale,--the gardener still -nursing a few asters amid dead weeds, ignorant of the gigantic asters -and roses which, as it were, overshadow him, and ask for none of his -care. It is like a little red paint ground on a saucer, and held up -against the sunset sky. Why not take more elevated and broader views, -walk in the great garden; not skulk in a little "debauched" nook of -it? consider the beauty of the forest, and not merely of a few -impounded herbs? - -Let your walks now be a little more adventurous; ascend the hills. If, -about the last of October, you ascend any hill in the outskirts of our -town, and probably of yours, and look over the forest, you may -see--well, what I have endeavored to describe. All this you surely -_will_ see, and much more, if you are prepared to see it,--if you -_look_ for it. Otherwise, regular and universal as this phenomenon is, -whether you stand on the hilltop or in the hollow, you will think for -threescore years and ten that all the wood is, at this season, sere -and brown. Objects are concealed from our view, not so much because -they are out of the course of our visual ray as because we do not -bring our minds and eyes to bear on them; for there is no power to see -in the eye itself, any more than in any other jelly. We do not realize -how far and widely, or how near and narrowly, we are to look. The -greater part of the phenomena of Nature are for this reason concealed -from us all our lives. The gardener sees only the gardener's garden. -Here, too, as in political economy, the supply answers to the demand. -Nature does not cast pearls before swine. There is just as much -beauty visible to us in the landscape as we are prepared to -appreciate,--not a grain more. The actual objects which one man will -see from a particular hilltop are just as different from those which -another will see as the beholders are different. The scarlet oak must, -in a sense, be in your eye when you go forth. We cannot see anything -until we are possessed with the idea of it, take it into our -heads,--and then we can hardly see anything else. In my botanical -rambles I find that, first, the idea, or image, of a plant occupies my -thoughts, though it may seem very foreign to this locality,--no nearer -than Hudson's Bay,--and for some weeks or months I go thinking of it, -and expecting it, unconsciously, and at length I surely see it. This -is the history of my finding a score or more of rare plants which I -could name. A man sees only what concerns him. A botanist absorbed in -the study of grasses does not distinguish the grandest pasture oaks. -He, as it were, tramples down oaks unwittingly in his walk, or at most -sees only their shadows. I have found that it required a different -intention of the eye, in the same locality, to see different plants, -even when they were closely allied, as _Juncaceae_ and _Gramineae_: -when I was looking for the former, I did not see the latter in the -midst of them. How much more, then, it requires different intentions -of the eye and of the mind to attend to different departments of -knowledge! How differently the poet and the naturalist look at -objects! - -Take a New England selectman, and set him on the highest of our hills, -and tell him to look,--sharpening his sight to the utmost, and putting -on the glasses that suit him best (aye, using a spy-glass, if he -likes),--and make a full report. What, probably, will he _spy_?--what -will he _select_ to look at? Of course, he will see a Brocken spectre -of himself. He will see several meeting-houses, at least, and, -perhaps, that somebody ought to be assessed higher than he is, since -he has so handsome a wood-lot. Now take Julius Caesar, or Emanuel -Swedenborg, or a Fiji-Islander, and set him up there. Or suppose all -together, and let them compare notes afterward. Will it appear that -they have enjoyed the same prospect? What they will see will be as -different as Rome was from heaven or hell, or the last from the Fiji -Islands. For aught we know, as strange a man as any of these is always -at our elbow. - -Why, it takes a sharpshooter to bring down even such trivial game as -snipes and woodcocks; he must take very particular aim, and know what -he is aiming at. He would stand a very small chance, if he fired at -random into the sky, being told that snipes were flying there. And so -is it with him that shoots at beauty; though he wait till the sky -falls, he will not bag any, if he does not already know its seasons -and haunts, and the color of its wing,--if he has not dreamed of it, -so that he can _anticipate_ it; then, indeed, he flushes it at every -step, shoots double and on the wing, with both barrels, even in -corn-fields. The sportsman trains himself, dresses, and watches -unweariedly, and loads and primes for his particular game. He prays -for it, and offers sacrifices, and so he gets it. After due and long -preparation, schooling his eye and hand, dreaming awake and asleep, -with gun and paddle and boat, he goes out after meadow-hens, which -most of his townsmen never saw nor dreamed of, and paddles for miles -against a head wind, and wades in water up to his knees, being out all -day without his dinner, and _therefore_ he gets them. He had them -half-way into his bag when he started, and has only to shove them -down. The true sportsman can shoot you almost any of his game from his -windows: what else has he windows or eyes for? It comes and perches at -last on the barrel of his gun; but the rest of the world never see it -_with the feathers on_. The geese fly exactly under his zenith, and -honk when they get there, and he will keep himself supplied by firing -up his chimney; twenty musquash have the refusal of each one of his -traps before it is empty. If he lives, and his game spirit increases, -heaven and earth shall fail him sooner than game; and when he dies, he -will go to more extensive and, perchance, happier hunting-grounds. The -fisherman, too, dreams of fish, sees a bobbing cork in his dreams, -till he can almost catch them in his sink-spout. I knew a girl who, -being sent to pick huckleberries, picked wild gooseberries by the -quart, where no one else knew that there were any, because she was -accustomed to pick them up-country where she came from. The astronomer -knows where to go star-gathering, and sees one clearly in his mind -before any have seen it with a glass. The hen scratches and finds her -food right under where she stands; but such is not the way with the -hawk. - - * * * * * - -These bright leaves which I have mentioned are not the exception, but -the rule; for I believe that all leaves, even grasses and mosses, -acquire brighter colors just before their fall. When you come to -observe faithfully the changes of each humblest plant, you find that -each has, sooner or later, its peculiar autumnal tint; and if you -undertake to make a complete list of the bright tints, it will be -nearly as long as a catalogue of the plants in your vicinity. - - - - -WILD APPLES - -THE HISTORY OF THE APPLE TREE - - -It is remarkable how closely the history of the apple tree is -connected with that of man. The geologist tells us that the order of -the _Rosaceae_, which includes the apple, also the true grasses, and -the _Labiatae_, or mints, were introduced only a short time previous -to the appearance of man on the globe. - -It appears that apples made a part of the food of that unknown -primitive people whose traces have lately been found at the bottom of -the Swiss lakes, supposed to be older than the foundation of Rome, so -old that they had no metallic implements. An entire black and -shriveled crab-apple has been recovered from their stores. - -Tacitus says of the ancient Germans that they satisfied their hunger -with wild apples (_agrestia poma_), among other things. - -Niebuhr observes that "the words for a house, a field, a plow, -plowing, wine, oil, milk, sheep, apples, and others relating to -agriculture and the gentler way of life, agree in Latin and Greek, -while the Latin words for all objects pertaining to war or the chase -are utterly alien from the Greek." Thus the apple tree may be -considered a symbol of peace no less than the olive. - -The apple was early so important, and generally distributed, that its -name traced to its root in many languages signifies fruit in general. -[Greek: Melon], in Greek, means an apple, also the fruit of other -trees, also a sheep and any cattle, and finally riches in general. - -The apple tree has been celebrated by the Hebrews, Greeks, Romans, and -Scandinavians. Some have thought that the first human pair were -tempted by its fruit. Goddesses are fabled to have contended for it, -dragons were set to watch it, and heroes were employed to pluck it. - -The tree is mentioned in at least three places in the Old Testament, -and its fruit in two or three more. Solomon sings, "As the apple-tree -among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons." And -again, "Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples." The noblest -part of man's noblest feature is named from this fruit, "the apple of -the eye." - -The apple tree is also mentioned by Homer and Herodotus. Ulysses saw -in the glorious garden of Alcinous "pears and pomegranates, and apple -trees bearing beautiful fruit" ([Greek: kai meleai aglaokarpoi]). And -according to Homer, apples were among the fruits which Tantalus could -not pluck, the wind ever blowing their boughs away from him. -Theophrastus knew and described the apple tree as a botanist. - -According to the Prose Edda, "Iduna keeps in a box the apples which -the gods, when they feel old age approaching, have only to taste of to -become young again. It is in this manner that they will be kept in -renovated youth until Ragnarok" (or the destruction of the gods). - -I learn from Loudon that "the ancient Welsh bards were rewarded for -excelling in song by the token of the apple-spray;" and "in the -Highlands of Scotland the apple-tree is the badge of the clan Lamont." - -The apple tree (_Pyrus malus_) belongs chiefly to the northern -temperate zone. Loudon says that "it grows spontaneously in every part -of Europe except the frigid zone, and throughout Western Asia, China, -and Japan." We have also two or three varieties of the apple -indigenous in North America. The cultivated apple tree was first -introduced into this country by the earliest settlers, and is thought -to do as well or better here than anywhere else. Probably some of the -varieties which are now cultivated were first introduced into Britain -by the Romans. - -Pliny, adopting the distinction of Theophrastus, says, "Of trees there -are some which are altogether wild (_sylvestres_), some more civilized -(_urbaniores_)." Theophrastus includes the apple among the last; and, -indeed, it is in this sense the most civilized of all trees. It is as -harmless as a dove, as beautiful as a rose, and as valuable as flocks -and herds. It has been longer cultivated than any other, and so is -more humanized; and who knows but, like the dog, it will at length be -no longer traceable to its wild original? It migrates with man, like -the dog and horse and cow: first, perchance, from Greece to Italy, -thence to England, thence to America; and our Western emigrant is -still marching steadily toward the setting sun with the seeds of the -apple in his pocket, or perhaps a few young trees strapped to his -load. At least a million apple trees are thus set farther westward -this year than any cultivated ones grew last year. Consider how the -Blossom Week, like the Sabbath, is thus annually spreading over the -prairies; for when man migrates, he carries with him not only his -birds, quadrupeds, insects, vegetables, and his very sward, but his -orchard also. - -The leaves and tender twigs are an agreeable food to many domestic -animals, as the cow, horse, sheep, and goat; and the fruit is sought -after by the first, as well as by the hog. Thus there appears to have -existed a natural alliance between these animals and this tree from -the first. "The fruit of the crab in the forests of France" is said to -be "a great resource for the wild boar." - -Not only the Indian, but many indigenous insects, birds, and -quadrupeds, welcomed the apple tree to these shores. The tent -caterpillar saddled her eggs on the very first twig that was formed, -and it has since shared her affections with the wild cherry; and the -canker-worm also in a measure abandoned the elm to feed on it. As it -grew apace, the bluebird, robin, cherry-bird, kingbird, and many more -came with haste and built their nests and warbled in its boughs, and -so became orchard-birds, and multiplied more than ever. It was an era -in the history of their race. The downy woodpecker found such a savory -morsel under its bark that he perforated it in a ring quite round the -tree, before he left it,--a thing which he had never done before, to -my knowledge. It did not take the partridge long to find out how sweet -its buds were, and every winter eve she flew, and still flies, from -the wood, to pluck them, much to the farmer's sorrow. The rabbit, too, -was not slow to learn the taste of its twigs and bark; and when the -fruit was ripe, the squirrel half rolled, half carried it to his hole; -and even the musquash crept up the bank from the brook at evening, and -greedily devoured it, until he had worn a path in the grass there; and -when it was frozen and thawed, the crow and the jay were glad to taste -it occasionally. The owl crept into the first apple tree that became -hollow, and fairly hooted with delight, finding it just the place for -him; so, settling down into it, he has remained there ever since. - -My theme being the Wild Apple, I will merely glance at some of the -seasons in the annual growth of the cultivated apple, and pass on to -my special province. - -The flowers of the apple are perhaps the most beautiful of any tree's, -so copious and so delicious to both sight and scent. The walker is -frequently tempted to turn and linger near some more than usually -handsome one, whose blossoms are two-thirds expanded. How superior it -is in these respects to the pear, whose blossoms are neither colored -nor fragrant! - -By the middle of July, green apples are so large as to remind us of -coddling, and of the autumn. The sward is commonly strewed with little -ones which fall stillborn, as it were,--Nature thus thinning them for -us. The Roman writer Palladius said, "If apples are inclined to fall -before their time, a stone placed in a split root will retain them." -Some such notion, still surviving, may account for some of the stones -which we see placed, to be overgrown, in the forks of trees. They have -a saying in Suffolk, England,-- - - "At Michaelmas time, or a little before, - Half an apple goes to the core." - -Early apples begin to be ripe about the first of August; but I think -that none of them are so good to eat as some to smell. One is worth -more to scent your handkerchief with than any perfume which they sell -in the shops. The fragrance of some fruits is not to be forgotten, -along with that of flowers. Some gnarly apple which I pick up in the -road reminds me by its fragrance of all the wealth of Pomona,--carrying -me forward to those days when they will be collected in golden and -ruddy heaps in the orchards and about the cider-mills. - -A week or two later, as you are going by orchards or gardens, -especially in the evenings, you pass through a little region possessed -by the fragrance of ripe apples, and thus enjoy them without price, -and without robbing anybody. - -There is thus about all natural products a certain volatile and -ethereal quality which represents their highest value, and which -cannot be vulgarized, or bought and sold. No mortal has ever enjoyed -the perfect flavor of any fruit, and only the godlike among men begin -to taste its ambrosial qualities. For nectar and ambrosia are only -those fine flavors of every earthly fruit which our coarse palates -fail to perceive,--just as we occupy the heaven of the gods without -knowing it. When I see a particularly mean man carrying a load of fair -and fragrant early apples to market, I seem to see a contest going on -between him and his horse, on the one side, and the apples on the -other, and, to my mind, the apples always gain it. Pliny says that -apples are the heaviest of all things, and that the oxen begin to -sweat at the mere sight of a load of them. Our driver begins to lose -his load the moment he tries to transport them to where they do not -belong, that is, to any but the most beautiful. Though he gets out -from time to time, and feels of them, and thinks they are all there, I -see the stream of their evanescent and celestial qualities going to -heaven from his cart, while the pulp and skin and core only are going -to market. They are not apples, but pomace. Are not these still -Iduna's apples, the taste of which keeps the gods forever young? and -think you that they will let Loki or Thjassi carry them off to -Joetunheim, while they grow wrinkled and gray? No, for Ragnaroek, or the -destruction of the gods, is not yet. - -There is another thinning of the fruit, commonly near the end of -August or in September, when the ground is strewn with windfalls; and -this happens especially when high winds occur after rain. In some -orchards you may see fully three quarters of the whole crop on the -ground, lying in a circular form beneath the trees, yet hard and -green, or, if it is a hillside, rolled far down the hill. However, it -is an ill wind that blows nobody any good. All the country over, -people are busy picking up the windfalls, and this will make them -cheap for early apple pies. - -In October, the leaves falling, the apples are more distinct on the -trees. I saw one year in a neighboring town some trees fuller of fruit -than I remember to have ever seen before, small yellow apples hanging -over the road. The branches were gracefully drooping with their -weight, like a barberry bush, so that the whole tree acquired a new -character. Even the topmost branches, instead of standing erect, -spread and drooped in all directions; and there were so many poles -supporting the lower ones that they looked like pictures of banyan -trees. As an old English manuscript says, "The mo appelen the tree -bereth the more sche boweth to the folk." - -Surely the apple is the noblest of fruits. Let the most beautiful or -the swiftest have it. That should be the "going" price of apples. - -Between the 5th and 20th of October I see the barrels lie under the -trees. And perhaps I talk with one who is selecting some choice -barrels to fulfill an order. He turns a specked one over many times -before he leaves it out. If I were to tell what is passing in my mind, -I should say that every one was specked which he had handled; for he -rubs off all the bloom, and those fugacious ethereal qualities leave -it. Cool evenings prompt the farmers to make haste, and at length I -see only the ladders here and there left leaning against the trees. - -It would be well, if we accepted these gifts with more joy and -gratitude, and did not think it enough simply to put a fresh load of -compost about the tree. Some old English customs are suggestive at -least. I find them described chiefly in Brand's "Popular Antiquities." -It appears that "on Christmas Eve the farmers and their men in -Devonshire take a large bowl of cider, with a toast in it, and -carrying it in state to the orchard, they salute the apple-trees with -much ceremony, in order to make them bear well the next season." This -salutation consists in "throwing some of the cider about the roots of -the tree, placing bits of the toast on the branches," and then, -"encircling one of the best bearing trees in the orchard, they drink -the following toast three several times:-- - - 'Here's to thee, old apple tree, - Whence thou mayst bud, and whence thou mayst blow, - And whence thou mayst bear apples enow! - Hats-full! caps-full! - Bushel, bushel, sacks-full! - And my pockets full, too! Hurra!'" - -Also what was called "apple-howling" used to be practiced in various -counties of England on New Year's Eve. A troop of boys visited the -different orchards, and, encircling the apple trees, repeated the -following words:-- - - "Stand fast, root! bear well, top! - Pray God send us a good howling crop: - Every twig, apples big; - Every bough, apples enow!" - -"They then shout in chorus, one of the boys accompanying them on a -cow's horn. During this ceremony they rap the trees with their -sticks." This is called "wassailing" the trees, and is thought by some -to be "a relic of the heathen sacrifice to Pomona." - -Herrick sings,-- - - "Wassaile the trees that they may beare - You many a plum and many a peare; - For more or less fruits they will bring - As you so give them wassailing." - -Our poets have as yet a better right to sing of cider than of wine; -but it behooves them to sing better than English Phillips did, else -they will do no credit to their Muse. - - -THE WILD APPLE - -So much for the more civilized apple trees (_urbaniores_, as Pliny -calls them). I love better to go through the old orchards of ungrafted -apple trees, at what ever season of the year,--so irregularly planted: -sometimes two trees standing close together; and the rows so devious -that you would think that they not only had grown while the owner was -sleeping, but had been set out by him in a somnambulic state. The rows -of grafted fruit will never tempt me to wander amid them like these. -But I now, alas, speak rather from memory than from any recent -experience, such ravages have been made! - -Some soils, like a rocky tract called the Easterbrooks Country in my -neighborhood, are so suited to the apple, that it will grow faster in -them without any care, or if only the ground is broken up once a year, -than it will in many places with any amount of care. The owners of -this tract allow that the soil is excellent for fruit, but they say -that it is so rocky that they have not patience to plow it, and that, -together with the distance, is the reason why it is not cultivated. -There are, or were recently, extensive orchards there standing without -order. Nay, they spring up wild and bear well there in the midst of -pines, birches, maples, and oaks. I am often surprised to see rising -amid these trees the rounded tops of apple trees glowing with red or -yellow fruit, in harmony with the autumnal tints of the forest. - -Going up the side of a cliff about the first of November, I saw a -vigorous young apple tree, which, planted by birds or cows, had shot -up amid the rocks and open woods there, and had now much fruit on it, -uninjured by the frosts, when all cultivated apples were gathered. It -was a rank, wild growth, with many green leaves on it still, and made -an impression of thorniness. The fruit was hard and green, but looked -as if it would be palatable in the winter. Some was dangling on the -twigs, but more half buried in the wet leaves under the tree, or -rolled far down the hill amid the rocks. The owner knows nothing of -it. The day was not observed when it first blossomed, nor when it -first bore fruit, unless by the chickadee. There was no dancing on the -green beneath it in its honor, and now there is no hand to pluck its -fruit,--which is only gnawed by squirrels, as I perceive. It has done -double duty,--not only borne this crop, but each twig has grown a foot -into the air. And this is _such_ fruit! bigger than many berries, we -must admit, and carried home will be sound and palatable next spring. -What care I for Iduna's apples so long as I can get these? - -When I go by this shrub thus late and hardy, and see its dangling -fruit, I respect the tree, and I am grateful for Nature's bounty, even -though I cannot eat it. Here on this rugged and woody hillside has -grown an apple tree, not planted by man, no relic of a former orchard, -but a natural growth, like the pines and oaks. Most fruits which we -prize and use depend entirely on our care. Corn and grain, potatoes, -peaches, melons, etc., depend altogether on our planting; but the -apple emulates man's independence and enterprise. It is not simply -carried, as I have said, but, like him, to some extent, it has -migrated to this New World, and is even, here and there, making its -way amid the aboriginal trees; just as the ox and dog and horse -sometimes run wild and maintain themselves. - - [Illustration: _Wild Apple Tree_] - -Even the sourest and crabbedest apple, growing in the most unfavorable -position, suggests such thoughts as these, it is so noble a fruit. - - -THE CRAB - -Nevertheless, _our_ wild apple is wild only like myself, perchance, -who belong not to the aboriginal race here, but have strayed into the -woods from the cultivated stock. Wilder still, as I have said, there -grows elsewhere in this country a native and aboriginal crab-apple, -_Malus coronaria_, "whose nature has not yet been modified by -cultivation." It is found from western New York to Minnesota, and -southward. Michaux says that its ordinary height "is fifteen or -eighteen feet, but it is sometimes found twenty-five or thirty feet -high," and that the large ones "exactly resemble the common apple -tree." "The flowers are white mingled with rose color, and are -collected in corymbs." They are remarkable for their delicious odor. -The fruit, according to him, is about an inch and a half in diameter, -and is intensely acid. Yet they make fine sweetmeats and also cider of -them. He concludes that "if, on being cultivated, it does not yield -new and palatable varieties, it will at least be celebrated for the -beauty of its flowers, and for the sweetness of its perfume." - -I never saw the crab-apple till May, 1861. I had heard of it through -Michaux, but more modern botanists, so far as I know, have not -treated it as of any peculiar importance. Thus it was a half-fabulous -tree to me. I contemplated a pilgrimage to the "Glades," a portion of -Pennsylvania where it was said to grow to perfection. I thought of -sending to a nursery for it, but doubted if they had it, or would -distinguish it from European varieties. At last I had occasion to go -to Minnesota, and on entering Michigan I began to notice from the cars -a tree with handsome rose-colored flowers. At first I thought it some -variety of thorn; but it was not long before the truth flashed on me, -that this was my long-sought crab-apple. It was the prevailing -flowering shrub or tree to be seen from the cars at that season of the -year,--about the middle of May. But the cars never stopped before one, -and so I was launched on the bosom of the Mississippi without having -touched one, experiencing the fate of Tantalus. On arriving at St. -Anthony's Falls, I was sorry to be told that I was too far north for -the crab-apple. Nevertheless I succeeded in finding it about eight -miles west of the Falls; touched it and smelled it, and secured a -lingering corymb of flowers for my herbarium. This must have been near -its northern limit. - - -HOW THE WILD APPLE GROWS - -But though these are indigenous, like the Indians, I doubt whether -they are any hardier than those backwoodsmen among the apple trees, -which, though descended from cultivated stocks, plant themselves in -distant fields and forests, where the soil is favorable to them. I -know of no trees which have more difficulties to contend with, and -which more sturdily resist their foes. These are the ones whose story -we have to tell. It oftentimes reads thus:-- - -Near the beginning of May, we notice little thickets of apple trees -just springing up in the pastures where cattle have been,--as the -rocky ones of our Easterbrooks Country, or the top of Nobscot Hill, in -Sudbury. One or two of these, perhaps, survive the drought and other -accidents,--their very birthplace defending them against the -encroaching grass and some other dangers, at first. - - In two years' time 't had thus - Reached the level of the rocks, - Admired the stretching world, - Nor feared the wandering flocks. - - But at this tender age - Its sufferings began: - There came a browsing ox - And cut it down a span. - -This time, perhaps, the ox does not notice it amid the grass; but the -next year, when it has grown more stout, he recognizes it for a -fellow-emigrant from the old country, the flavor of whose leaves and -twigs he well knows; and though at first he pauses to welcome it, and -express his surprise, and gets for answer, "The same cause that -brought you here brought me," he nevertheless browses it again, -reflecting, it may be, that he has some title to it. - -Thus cut down annually, it does not despair; but, putting forth two -short twigs for every one cut off, it spreads out low along the ground -in the hollows or between the rocks, growing more stout and scrubby, -until it forms, not a tree as yet, but a little pyramidal, stiff, -twiggy mass, almost as solid and impenetrable as a rock. Some of the -densest and most impenetrable clumps of bushes that I have ever seen, -as well on account of the closeness and stubbornness of their branches -as of their thorns, have been these wild apple scrubs. They are more -like the scrubby fir and black spruce on which you stand, and -sometimes walk, on the tops of mountains, where cold is the demon they -contend with, than anything else. No wonder they are prompted to grow -thorns at last, to defend themselves against such foes. In their -thorniness, however, there is no malice, only some malic acid. - -The rocky pastures of the tract I have referred to--for they maintain -their ground best in a rocky field--are thickly sprinkled with these -little tufts, reminding you often of some rigid gray mosses or -lichens, and you see thousands of little trees just springing up -between them, with the seed still attached to them. - -Being regularly clipped all around each year by the cows, as a hedge -with shears, they are often of a perfect conical or pyramidal form, -from one to four feet high, and more or less sharp, as if trimmed by -the gardener's art. In the pastures on Nobscot Hill and its spurs, -they make fine dark shadows when the sun is low. They are also an -excellent covert from hawks for many small birds that roost and build -in them. Whole flocks perch in them at night, and I have seen three -robins' nests in one which was six feet in diameter. - -No doubt many of these are already old trees, if you reckon from the -day they were planted, but infants still when you consider their -development and the long life before them. I counted the annual rings -of some which were just one foot high, and as wide as high, and found -that they were about twelve years old, but quite sound and thrifty! -They were so low that they were unnoticed by the walker, while many of -their contemporaries from the nurseries were already bearing -considerable crops. But what you gain in time is perhaps in this case, -too, lost in power,--that is, in the vigor of the tree. This is their -pyramidal state. - -The cows continue to browse them thus for twenty years or more, -keeping them down and compelling them to spread, until at last they -are so broad that they become their own fence, when some interior -shoot, which their foes cannot reach, darts upward with joy: for it -has not forgotten its high calling, and bears its own peculiar fruit -in triumph. - -Such are the tactics by which it finally defeats its bovine foes. Now, -if you have watched the progress of a particular shrub, you will see -that it is no longer a simple pyramid or cone, but that out of its -apex there rises a sprig or two, growing more lustily perchance than -an orchard-tree, since the plant now devotes the whole of its -repressed energy to these upright parts. In a short time these become -a small tree, an inverted pyramid resting on the apex of the other, so -that the whole has now the form of a vast hour-glass. The spreading -bottom, having served its purpose, finally disappears, and the -generous tree permits the now harmless cows to come in and stand in -its shade, and rub against and redden its trunk, which has grown in -spite of them, and even to taste a part of its fruit, and so disperse -the seed. - -Thus the cows create their own shade and food; and the tree, its -hour-glass being inverted, lives a second life, as it were. - -It is an important question with some nowadays, whether you should -trim young apple trees as high as your nose or as high as your eyes. -The ox trims them up as high as he can reach, and that is about the -right height, I think. - -In spite of wandering kine, and other adverse circumstances, that -despised shrub, valued only by small birds as a covert and shelter -from hawks, has its blossom week at last, and in course of time its -harvest, sincere, though small. - -By the end of some October, when its leaves have fallen, I frequently -see such a central sprig, whose progress I have watched, when I -thought it had forgotten its destiny, as I had, bearing its first crop -of small green or yellow or rosy fruit, which the cows cannot get at -over the bushy and thorny hedge which surrounds it, and I make haste -to taste the new and undescribed variety. We have all heard of the -numerous varieties of fruit invented by Van Mons and Knight. This is -the system of Van Cow, and she has invented far more and more -memorable varieties than both of them. - -Through what hardships it may attain to bear a sweet fruit! Though -somewhat small, it may prove equal, if not superior, in flavor to that -which has grown in a garden,--will perchance be all the sweeter and -more palatable for the very difficulties it has had to contend with. -Who knows but this chance wild fruit, planted by a cow or a bird on -some remote and rocky hillside, where it is as yet unobserved by man, -may be the choicest of all its kind, and foreign potentates shall hear -of it, and royal societies seek to propagate it, though the virtues of -the perhaps truly crabbed owner of the soil may never be heard of,--at -least, beyond the limits of his village? It was thus the Porter and -the Baldwin grew. - -Every wild apple shrub excites our expectation thus, somewhat as every -wild child. It is, perhaps, a prince in disguise. What a lesson to -man! So are human beings, referred to the highest standard, the -celestial fruit which they suggest and aspire to bear, browsed on by -fate; and only the most persistent and strongest genius defends itself -and prevails, sends a tender scion upward at last, and drops its -perfect fruit on the ungrateful earth. Poets and philosophers and -statesmen thus spring up in the country pastures, and outlast the -hosts of unoriginal men. - -Such is always the pursuit of knowledge. The celestial fruits, the -golden apples of the Hesperides, are ever guarded by a hundred-headed -dragon which never sleeps, so that it is an Herculean labor to pluck -them. - -This is one, and the most remarkable way in which the wild apple is -propagated; but commonly it springs up at wide intervals in woods and -swamp, and by the sides of roads, as the soil may suit it, and grows -with comparative rapidity. Those which grow in dense woods are very -tall and slender. I frequently pluck from these trees a perfectly -mild and tamed fruit. As Palladius says, "_Et injussu consternitur -ubere mali_:" And the ground is strewn with the fruit of an unbidden -apple tree. - -It is an old notion that, if these wild trees do not bear a valuable -fruit of their own, they are the best stocks by which to transmit to -posterity the most highly prized qualities of others. However, I am -not in search of stocks, but the wild fruit itself, whose fierce gust -has suffered no "inteneration." It is not my - - "highest plot - To plant the Bergamot." - - -THE FRUIT, AND ITS FLAVOR - -The time for wild apples is the last of October and the first of -November. They then get to be palatable, for they ripen late, and they -are still perhaps as beautiful as ever. I make a great account of -these fruits, which the farmers do not think it worth the while to -gather,--wild flavors of the Muse, vivacious and inspiriting. The -farmer thinks that he has better in his barrels, but he is mistaken, -unless he has a walker's appetite and imagination, neither of which -can he have. - -Such as grow quite wild, and are left out till the first of November, -I presume that the owner does not mean to gather. They belong to -children as wild as themselves,--to certain active boys that I -know,--to the wild-eyed woman of the fields, to whom nothing comes -amiss, who gleans after all the world, and, moreover, to us walkers. -We have met with them, and they are ours. These rights, long enough -insisted upon, have come to be an institution in some old countries, -where they have learned how to live. I hear that "the custom of -grippling, which may be called apple-gleaning, is, or was formerly, -practiced in Herefordshire. It consists in leaving a few apples, which -are called the gripples, on every tree, after the general gathering, -for the boys, who go with climbing-poles and bags to collect them." - -As for those I speak of, I pluck them as a wild fruit, native to this -quarter of the earth,--fruit of old trees that have been dying ever -since I was a boy and are not yet dead, frequented only by the -woodpecker and the squirrel, deserted now by the owner, who has not -faith enough to look under their boughs. From the appearance of the -tree-top, at a little distance, you would expect nothing but lichens -to drop from it, but your faith is rewarded by finding the ground -strewn with spirited fruit,--some of it, perhaps, collected at -squirrel-holes, with the marks of their teeth by which they carried -them,--some containing a cricket or two silently feeding within, and -some, especially in damp days, a shell-less snail. The very sticks and -stones lodged in the tree-top might have convinced you of the -savoriness of the fruit which has been so eagerly sought after in past -years. - -I have seen no account of these among the "Fruits and Fruit-Trees of -America," though they are more memorable to my taste than the grafted -kinds; more racy and wild American flavors do they possess when -October and November, when December and January, and perhaps February -and March even, have assuaged them somewhat. An old farmer in my -neighborhood, who always selects the right word, says that "they have -a kind of bow-arrow tang." - -Apples for grafting appear to have been selected commonly, not so much -for their spirited flavor, as for their mildness, their size, and -bearing qualities,--not so much for their beauty, as for their -fairness and soundness. Indeed, I have no faith in the selected lists -of pomological gentlemen. Their "Favorites" and "None-suches" and -"Seek-no-farthers," when I have fruited them, commonly turn out very -tame and forgettable. They are eaten with comparatively little zest, -and have no real _tang_ nor _smack_ to them. - -What if some of these wildings are acrid and puckery, genuine -_verjuice_, do they not still belong to the _Pomaceae_, which are -uniformly innocent and kind to our race? I still begrudge them to the -cider-mill. Perhaps they are not fairly ripe yet. - -No wonder that these small and high-colored apples are thought to make -the best cider. Loudon quotes from the "Herefordshire Report," that -"apples of a small size are always, if equal in quality, to be -preferred to those of a larger size, in order that the rind and kernel -may bear the greatest proportion to the pulp, which affords the -weakest and most watery juice." And he says that, "to prove this, Dr. -Symonds, of Hereford, about the year 1800, made one hogshead of cider -entirely from the rinds and cores of apples, and another from the pulp -only, when the first was found of extraordinary strength and flavor, -while the latter was sweet and insipid." - -Evelyn says that the "Red-strake" was the favorite cider-apple in his -day; and he quotes one Dr. Newburg as saying, "In Jersey 'tis a -general observation, as I hear, that the more of red any apple has in -its rind, the more proper it is for this use. Pale-faced apples they -exclude as much as may be from their cider-vat." This opinion still -prevails. - -All apples are good in November. Those which the farmer leaves out as -unsalable and unpalatable to those who frequent the markets are -choicest fruit to the walker. But it is remarkable that the wild apple, -which I praise as so spirited and racy when eaten in the fields or -woods, being brought into the house has frequently a harsh and crabbed -taste. The Saunterer's Apple not even the saunterer can eat in the -house. The palate rejects it there, as it does haws and acorns, and -demands a tamed one; for there you miss the November air, which is the -sauce it is to be eaten with. Accordingly, when Tityrus, seeing the -lengthening shadows, invites Meliboeus to go home and pass the night -with him, he promises him _mild_ apples and soft chestnuts,--_mitia -poma_, _castaneae molles_. I frequently pluck wild apples of so rich -and spicy a flavor that I wonder all orchardists do not get a scion -from that tree, and I fail not to bring home my pockets full. But -perchance, when I take one out of my desk and taste it in my chamber, -I find it unexpectedly crude,--sour enough to set a squirrel's teeth -on edge and make a jay scream. - -These apples have hung in the wind and frost and rain till they have -absorbed the qualities of the weather or season, and thus are highly -_seasoned_, and they _pierce_ and _sting_ and _permeate_ us with their -spirit. They must be eaten in _season_, accordingly,--that is, -out-of-doors. - -To appreciate the wild and sharp flavors of these October fruits, it -is necessary that you be breathing the sharp October or November air. -The outdoor air and exercise which the walker gets give a different -tone to his palate, and he craves a fruit which the sedentary would -call harsh and crabbed. They must be eaten in the fields, when your -system is all aglow with exercise, when the frosty weather nips your -fingers, the wind rattles the bare boughs or rustles the few remaining -leaves, and the jay is heard screaming around. What is sour in the -house a bracing walk makes sweet. Some of these apples might be -labeled, "To be eaten in the wind." - -Of course no flavors are thrown away; they are intended for the taste -that is up to them. Some apples have two distinct flavors, and perhaps -one half of them must be eaten in the house, the other outdoors. One -Peter Whitney wrote from Northborough in 1782, for the Proceedings of -the Boston Academy, describing an apple tree in that town "producing -fruit of opposite qualities, part of the same apple being frequently -sour and the other sweet;" also some all sour, and others all sweet, -and this diversity on all parts of the tree. - -There is a wild apple on Nawshawtuct Hill in my town which has to me a -peculiarly pleasant bitter tang, not perceived till it is -three-quarters tasted. It remains on the tongue. As you eat it, it -smells exactly like a squash-bug. It is a sort of triumph to eat and -relish it. - -I hear that the fruit of a kind of plum tree in Provence is "called -_Prunes sibarelles_, because it is impossible to whistle after having -eaten them, from their sourness." But perhaps they were only eaten in -the house and in summer, and if tried out-of-doors in a stinging -atmosphere, who knows but you could whistle an octave higher and -clearer? - -In the fields only are the sours and bitters of Nature appreciated; -just as the woodchopper eats his meal in a sunny glade, in the middle -of a winter day, with content, basks in a sunny ray there, and dreams -of summer in a degree of cold which, experienced in a chamber, would -make a student miserable. They who are at work abroad are not cold, -but rather it is they who sit shivering in houses. As with -temperatures, so with flavors; as with cold and heat, so with sour and -sweet. This natural raciness, the sours and bitters which the diseased -palate refuses, are the true condiments. - -Let your condiments be in the condition of your senses. To appreciate -the flavor of these wild apples requires vigorous and healthy senses, -_papillae_ firm and erect on the tongue and palate, not easily -flattened and tamed. - -From my experience with wild apples, I can understand that there may -be reason for a savage's preferring many kinds of food which the -civilized man rejects. The former has the palate of an outdoor man. It -takes a savage or wild taste to appreciate a wild fruit. - -What a healthy out-of-door appetite it takes to relish the apple of -life, the apple of the world, then! - - "Nor is it every apple I desire, - Nor that which pleases every palate best; - 'Tis not the lasting Deuxan I require, - Nor yet the red-cheeked Greening I request, - Nor that which first beshrewed the name of wife, - Nor that whose beauty caused the golden strife: - No, no! bring me an apple from the tree of life." - -So there is one _thought_ for the field, another for the house. I -would have my thoughts, like wild apples, to be food for walkers, and -will not warrant them to be palatable if tasted in the house. - - -THEIR BEAUTY - -Almost all wild apples are handsome. They cannot be too gnarly and -crabbed and rusty to look at. The gnarliest will have some redeeming -traits even to the eye. You will discover some evening redness dashed -or sprinkled on some protuberance or in some cavity. It is rare that -the summer lets an apple go without streaking or spotting it on some -part of its sphere. It will have some red stains, commemorating the -mornings and evenings it has witnessed; some dark and rusty blotches, -in memory of the clouds and foggy, mildewy days that have passed over -it; and a spacious field of green reflecting the general face of -nature,--green even as the fields; or a yellow ground, which implies a -milder flavor,--yellow as the harvest, or russet as the hills. - -Apples, these I mean, unspeakably fair,--apples not of Discord, but of -Concord! Yet not so rare but that the homeliest may have a share. -Painted by the frosts, some a uniform clear bright yellow, or red, or -crimson, as if their spheres had regularly revolved, and enjoyed the -influence of the sun on all sides alike,--some with the faintest pink -blush imaginable,--some brindled with deep red streaks like a cow, or -with hundreds of fine blood-red rays running regularly from the -stem-dimple to the blossom end, like meridional lines, on a -straw-colored ground,--some touched with a greenish rust, like a fine -lichen, here and there, with crimson blotches or eyes more or less -confluent and fiery when wet,--and others gnarly, and freckled or -peppered all over on the stem side with fine crimson spots on a white -ground, as if accidentally sprinkled from the brush of Him who paints -the autumn leaves. Others, again, are sometimes red inside, perfused -with a beautiful blush, fairy food, too beautiful to eat,--apple of -the Hesperides, apple of the evening sky! But like shells and pebbles -on the seashore, they must be seen as they sparkle amid the withering -leaves in some dell in the woods, in the autumnal air, or as they lie -in the wet grass, and not when they have wilted and faded in the -house. - - -THE NAMING OF THEM - -It would be a pleasant pastime to find suitable names for the hundred -varieties which go to a single heap at the cider-mill. Would it not -tax a man's invention,--no one to be named after a man, and all in the -_lingua vernacula_? Who shall stand godfather at the christening of -the wild apples? It would exhaust the Latin and Greek languages, if -they were used, and make the _lingua vernacula_ flag. We should have -to call in the sunrise and the sunset, the rainbow and the autumn -woods and the wild-flowers, and the woodpecker and the purple finch -and the squirrel and the jay and the butterfly, the November traveler -and the truant boy, to our aid. - -In 1836 there were in the garden of the London Horticultural Society -more than fourteen hundred distinct sorts. But here are species which -they have not in their catalogue, not to mention the varieties which -our crab might yield to cultivation. - -Let us enumerate a few of these. I find myself compelled, after all, -to give the Latin names of some for the benefit of those who live -where English is not spoken,--for they are likely to have a world-wide -reputation. - -There is, first of all, the Wood Apple (_Malus sylvatica_); the -Blue-Jay Apple; the Apple which grows in Dells in the Woods -(_sylvestrivallis_), also in Hollows in Pastures (_campestrivallis_); -the Apple that grows in an old Cellar-Hole (_Malus cellaris_); the -Meadow Apple; the Partridge Apple; the Truant's Apple (_cessatoris_), -which no boy will ever go by without knocking off some, however _late_ -it may be; the Saunterer's Apple,--you must lose yourself before you -can find the way to that; the Beauty of the Air (_decus aeris_); -December-Eating; the Frozen-Thawed (_gelato-soluta_), good only in -that state; the Concord Apple, possibly the same with the -_Musketaquidensis_; the Assabet Apple; the Brindled Apple; Wine of New -England; the Chickaree Apple; the Green Apple (_Malus viridis_),--this -has many synonyms: in an imperfect state, it is the _choleramorbifera -aut dysenterifera_, _puerulis dilectissima_; the Apple which Atalanta -stopped to pick up; the Hedge Apple (_Malus sepium_); the Slug Apple -(_limacea_); the Railroad Apple, which perhaps came from a core thrown -out of the cars; the Apple whose Fruit we tasted in our Youth; our -Particular Apple, not to be found in any catalogue; _pedestrium -solatium_; also the Apple where hangs the Forgotten Scythe; Iduna's -Apples, and the Apples which Loki found in the Wood; and a great many -more I have on my list, too numerous to mention,--all of them good. As -Bodaeus exclaims, referring to the cultivated kinds, and adapting -Virgil to his case, so I, adapting Bodaeus,-- - - "Not if I had a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths, - An iron voice, could I describe all the forms - And reckon up all the names of these _wild apples_." - - -THE LAST GLEANING - -By the middle of November the wild apples have lost some of their -brilliancy, and have chiefly fallen. A great part are decayed on the -ground, and the sound ones are more palatable than before. The note of -the chickadee sounds now more distinct, as you wander amid the old -trees, and the autumnal dandelion is half closed and tearful. But -still, if you are a skillful gleaner, you may get many a pocketful -even of grafted fruit, long after apples are supposed to be gone -out-of-doors. I know a Blue Pearmain tree, growing within the edge of -a swamp, almost as good as wild. You would not suppose that there was -any fruit left there, on the first survey, but you must look according -to system. Those which lie exposed are quite brown and rotten now, or -perchance a few still show one blooming cheek here and there amid the -wet leaves. Nevertheless, with experienced eyes, I explore amid the -bare alders and the huckleberry bushes and the withered sedge, and in -the crevices of the rocks, which are full of leaves, and pry under -the fallen and decaying ferns, which, with apple and alder leaves, -thickly strew the ground. For I know that they lie concealed, fallen -into hollows long since and covered up by the leaves of the tree -itself,--a proper kind of packing. From these lurking-places, anywhere -within the circumference of the tree, I draw forth the fruit, all wet -and glossy, maybe nibbled by rabbits and hollowed out by crickets, and -perhaps with a leaf or two cemented to it (as Curzon an old manuscript -from a monastery's mouldy cellar), but still with a rich bloom on it, -and at least as ripe and well-kept, if not better than those in -barrels, more crisp and lively than they. If these resources fail to -yield anything, I have learned to look between the bases of the -suckers which spring thickly from some horizontal limb, for now and -then one lodges there, or in the very midst of an alder-clump, where -they are covered by leaves, safe from cows which may have smelled them -out. If I am sharp-set, for I do not refuse the Blue Pearmain, I fill -my pockets on each side; and as I retrace my steps in the frosty eve, -being perhaps four or five miles from home, I eat one first from this -side, and then from that, to keep my balance. - -I learn from Topsell's Gesner, whose authority appears to be Albertus, -that the following is the way in which the hedgehog collects and -carries home his apples. He says,--"His meat is apples, worms, or -grapes: when he findeth apples or grapes on the earth, he rolleth -himself upon them, until he have filled all his prickles, and then -carrieth them home to his den, never bearing above one in his mouth; -and if it fortune that one of them fall off by the way, he likewise -shaketh off all the residue, and walloweth upon them afresh, until -they be all settled upon his back again. So, forth he goeth, making a -noise like a cart-wheel; and if he have any young ones in his nest, -they pull off his load wherewithal he is loaded, eating thereof what -they please, and laying up the residue for the time to come." - - -THE "FROZEN-THAWED" APPLE - -Toward the end of November, though some of the sound ones are yet more -mellow and perhaps more edible, they have generally, like the leaves, -lost their beauty, and are beginning to freeze. It is finger-cold, and -prudent farmers get in their barreled apples, and bring you the apples -and cider which they have engaged; for it is time to put them into the -cellar. Perhaps a few on the ground show their red cheeks above the -early snow, and occasionally some even preserve their color and -soundness under the snow throughout the winter. But generally at the -beginning of the winter they freeze hard, and soon, though undecayed, -acquire the color of a baked apple. - -Before the end of December, generally, they experience their first -thawing. Those which a month ago were sour, crabbed, and quite -unpalatable to the civilized taste, such at least as were frozen while -sound, let a warmer sun come to thaw them,--for they are extremely -sensitive to its rays,--are found to be filled with a rich, sweet -cider, better than any bottled cider that I know of, and with which I -am better acquainted than with wine. All apples are good in this -state, and your jaws are the cider-press. Others, which have more -substance, are a sweet and luscious food,--in my opinion of more worth -than the pineapples which are imported from the West Indies. Those -which lately even I tasted only to repent of it,--for I am -semicivilized,--which the farmer willingly left on the tree, I am now -glad to find have the property of hanging on like the leaves of the -young oaks. It is a way to keep cider sweet without boiling. Let the -frost come to freeze them first, solid as stones, and then the rain or -a warm winter day to thaw them, and they will seem to have borrowed a -flavor from heaven through the medium of the air in which they hang. -Or perchance you find, when you get home, that those which rattled in -your pocket have thawed, and the ice is turned to cider. But after the -third or fourth freezing and thawing they will not be found so good. - -What are the imported half-ripe fruits of the torrid south, to this -fruit matured by the cold of the frigid north? These are those crabbed -apples with which I cheated my companion, and kept a smooth face that -I might tempt him to eat. Now we both greedily fill our pockets with -them,--bending to drink the cup and save our lappets from the -overflowing juice,--and grow more social with their wine. Was there -one that hung so high and sheltered by the tangled branches that our -sticks could not dislodge it? - -It is a fruit never carried to market, that I am aware of,--quite -distinct from the apple of the markets, as from dried apple and -cider,--and it is not every winter that produces it in perfection. - -The era of the Wild Apple will soon be past. It is a fruit which will -probably become extinct in New England. You may still wander through -old orchards of native fruit of great extent, which for the most part -went to the cider-mill, now all gone to decay. I have heard of an -orchard in a distant town, on the side of a hill, where the apples -rolled down and lay four feet deep against a wall on the lower side, -and this the owner cut down for fear they should be made into cider. -Since the temperance reform and the general introduction of grafted -fruit, no native apple trees, such as I see everywhere in deserted -pastures, and where the woods have grown up around them, are set out. -I fear that he who walks over these fields a century hence will not -know the pleasure of knocking off wild apples. Ah, poor man, there are -many pleasures which he will not know! Notwithstanding the prevalence -of the Baldwin and the Porter, I doubt if so extensive orchards are -set out to-day in my town as there were a century ago, when those vast -straggling cider-orchards were planted, when men both ate and drank -apples, when the pomace-heap was the only nursery, and trees cost -nothing but the trouble of setting them out. Men could afford then to -stick a tree by every wall-side and let it take its chance. I see -nobody planting trees to-day in such out of the way places, along the -lonely roads and lanes, and at the bottom of dells in the wood. Now -that they have grafted trees, and pay a price for them, they collect -them into a plat by their houses, and fence them in,--and the end of -it all will be that we shall be compelled to look for our apples in a -barrel. - -This is "The word of the Lord that came to Joel the son of Pethuel. - -"Hear this, ye old men, and give ear, all ye inhabitants of the land! -Hath this been in your days, or even in the days of your fathers?... - -"That which the palmerworm hath left hath the locust eaten; and that -which the locust hath left hath the cankerworm eaten; and that which -the cankerworm hath left hath the caterpillar eaten. - -"Awake, ye drunkards, and weep; and howl, all ye drinkers of wine, -because of the new wine; for it is cut off from your mouth. - -"For a nation is come up upon my land, strong, and without number, -whose teeth are the teeth of a lion, and he hath the cheek teeth of a -great lion. - -"He hath laid my vine waste, and barked my fig tree: he hath made it -clean bare, and cast it away; the branches thereof are made white.... - -"Be ye ashamed, O ye husbandmen; howl, O ye vinedressers.... - -"The vine is dried up, and the fig tree languisheth; the pomegranate -tree, the palm tree also, and the apple tree, even all the trees of -the field, are withered: because joy is withered away from the sons of -men." - - - - -NIGHT AND MOONLIGHT - - -Chancing to take a memorable walk by moonlight some years ago, I -resolved to take more such walks, and make acquaintance with another -side of nature: I have done so. - -According to Pliny, there is a stone in Arabia called Selenites, -"wherein is a white, which increases and decreases with the moon." My -journal for the last year or two has been _selenitic_ in this sense. - -Is not the midnight like Central Africa to most of us? Are we not -tempted to explore it,--to penetrate to the shores of its Lake Tchad, -and discover the source of its Nile, perchance the Mountains of the -Moon? Who knows what fertility and beauty, moral and natural, are -there to be found? In the Mountains of the Moon, in the Central Africa -of the night, there is where all Niles have their hidden heads. The -expeditions up the Nile as yet extend but to the Cataracts, or -perchance to the mouth of the White Nile; but it is the Black Nile -that concerns us. - -I shall be a benefactor if I conquer some realms from the night, if I -report to the gazettes anything transpiring about us at that season -worthy of their attention,--if I can show men that there is some -beauty awake while they are asleep,--if I add to the domains of -poetry. - -Night is certainly more novel and less profane than day. I soon -discovered that I was acquainted only with its complexion, and as for -the moon, I had seen her only as it were through a crevice in a -shutter, occasionally. Why not walk a little way in her light? - -Suppose you attend to the suggestions which the moon makes for one -month, commonly in vain, will it not be very different from anything -in literature or religion? But why not study this Sanskrit? What if -one moon has come and gone with its world of poetry, its weird -teachings, its oracular suggestions,--so divine a creature freighted -with hints for me, and I have not used her? One moon gone by -unnoticed? - -I think it was Dr. Chalmers who said, criticising Coleridge, that for -his part he wanted ideas which he could see all round, and not such as -he must look at away up in the heavens. Such a man, one would say, -would never look at the moon, because she never turns her other side -to us. The light which comes from ideas which have their orbit as -distant from the earth, and which is no less cheering and enlightening -to the benighted traveler than that of the moon and stars, is -naturally reproached or nicknamed as moonshine by such. They are -moonshine, are they? Well, then, do your night traveling when there is -no moon to light you; but I will be thankful for the light that -reaches me from the star of least magnitude. Stars are lesser or -greater only as they appear to us so. I will be thankful that I see so -much as one side of a celestial idea, one side of the rainbow and the -sunset sky. - -Men talk glibly enough about moonshine, as if they knew its qualities -very well, and despised them; as owls might talk of sunshine,--none of -your sunshine!--but this word commonly means merely something which -they do not understand,--which they are abed and asleep to, however -much it may be worth their while to be up and awake to it. - -It must be allowed that the light of the moon, sufficient though it is -for the pensive walker, and not disproportionate to the inner light we -have, is very inferior in quality and intensity to that of the sun. -But the moon is not to be judged alone by the quantity of light she -sends to us, but also by her influence on the earth and its -inhabitants. "The moon gravitates toward the earth, and the earth -reciprocally toward the moon." The poet who walks by moonlight is -conscious of a tide in his thought which is to be referred to lunar -influence. I will endeavor to separate the tide in my thoughts from -the current distractions of the day. I would warn my hearers that they -must not try my thoughts by a daylight standard, but endeavor to -realize that I speak out of the night. All depends on your point of -view. In Drake's "Collection of Voyages," Wafer says of some albinos -among the Indians of Darien: "They are quite white, but their -whiteness is like that of a horse, quite different from the fair or -pale European, as they have not the least tincture of a blush or -sanguine complexion.... Their eyebrows are milk-white, as is likewise -the hair of their heads, which is very fine.... They seldom go abroad -in the daytime, the sun being disagreeable to them, and causing their -eyes, which are weak and poring, to water, especially if it shines -towards them, yet they see very well by moonlight, from which we call -them moon-eyed." - -Neither in our thoughts in these moonlight walks, methinks, is there -"the least tincture of a blush or sanguine complexion," but we are -intellectually and morally albinos, children of Endymion, such is the -effect of conversing much with the moon. - -I complain of arctic voyagers that they do not enough remind us of the -constant peculiar dreariness of the scenery, and the perpetual -twilight of the arctic night. So he whose theme is moonlight, though -he may find it difficult, must, as it were, illustrate it with the -light of the moon alone. - -Many men walk by day; few walk by night. It is a very different -season. Take a July night, for instance. About ten o'clock,--when man -is asleep, and day fairly forgotten,--the beauty of moonlight is seen -over lonely pastures where cattle are silently feeding. On all sides -novelties present themselves. Instead of the sun there are the moon -and stars; instead of the wood thrush there is the whip-poor-will; -instead of butterflies in the meadows, fireflies, winged sparks of -fire! who would have believed it? What kind of cool deliberate life -dwells in those dewy abodes associated with a spark of fire? So man -has fire in his eyes, or blood, or brain. Instead of singing birds, -the half-throttled note of a cuckoo flying over, the croaking of -frogs, and the intenser dream of crickets. But above all, the -wonderful trump of the bullfrog, ringing from Maine to Georgia. The -potato vines stand upright, the corn grows apace, the bushes loom, the -grain-fields are boundless. On our open river terraces once cultivated -by the Indian, they appear to occupy the ground like an army, their -heads nodding in the breeze. Small trees and shrubs are seen in the -midst overwhelmed as by an inundation. The shadows of rocks and trees, -and shrubs and hills, are more conspicuous than the objects -themselves. The slightest irregularities in the ground are revealed by -the shadows, and what the feet find comparatively smooth appears rough -and diversified in consequence. For the same reason the whole -landscape is more variegated and picturesque than by day. The smallest -recesses in the rocks are dim and cavernous; the ferns in the wood -appear of tropical size. The sweet-fern and indigo in overgrown -wood-paths wet you with dew up to your middle. The leaves of the shrub -oak are shining as if a liquid were flowing over them. The pools seen -through the trees are as full of light as the sky. "The light of the -day takes refuge in their bosoms," as the Purana says of the ocean. -All white objects are more remarkable than by day. A distant cliff -looks like a phosphorescent space on a hillside. The woods are heavy -and dark. Nature slumbers. You see the moonlight reflected from -particular stumps in the recesses of the forest, as if she selected -what to shine on. These small fractions of her light remind one of the -plant called moonseed,--as if the moon were sowing it in such places. - -In the night the eyes are partly closed or retire into the head. Other -senses take the lead. The walker is guided as well by the sense of -smell. Every plant and field and forest emits its odor now, swamp-pink -in the meadow and tansy in the road; and there is the peculiar dry -scent of corn which has begun to show its tassels. The senses both of -hearing and smelling are more alert. We hear the tinkling of rills -which we never detected before. From time to time, high up on the -sides of hills, you pass through a stratum of warm air, a blast which -has come up from the sultry plains of noon. It tells of the day, of -sunny noontide hours and banks, of the laborer wiping his brow and the -bee humming amid flowers. It is an air in which work has been -done,--which men have breathed. It circulates about from woodside to -hillside like a dog that has lost its master, now that the sun is -gone. The rocks retain all night the warmth of the sun which they have -absorbed. And so does the sand. If you dig a few inches into it you -find a warm bed. You lie on your back on a rock in a pasture on the -top of some bare hill at midnight, and speculate on the height of the -starry canopy. The stars are the jewels of the night, and perchance -surpass anything which day has to show. A companion with whom I was -sailing one very windy but bright moonlight night, when the stars were -few and faint, thought that a man could get along with _them_, though -he was considerably reduced in his circumstances,--that they were a -kind of bread and cheese that never failed. - -No wonder that there have been astrologers, that some have conceived -that they were personally related to particular stars. Dubartas, as -translated by Sylvester, says he'll - - "not believe that the great architect - With all these fires the heavenly arches decked - Only for show, and with these glistering shields, - T' awake poor shepherds, watching in the fields." - He'll "not believe that the least flower which pranks - Our garden borders, or our common banks, - And the least stone, that in her warming lap - Our mother earth doth covetously wrap, - Hath some peculiar virtue of its own, - And that the glorious stars of heav'n have none." - -And Sir Walter Raleigh well says, "The stars are instruments of far -greater use than to give an obscure light, and for men to gaze on -after sunset;" and he quotes Plotinus as affirming that they "are -significant, but not efficient;" and also Augustine as saying, "_Deus -regit inferiora corpora per superiora_:" God rules the bodies below by -those above. But best of all is this which another writer has -expressed: "_Sapiens adjuvabit opus astrorum quemadmodum agricola -terrae naturam_:" a wise man assisteth the work of the stars as the -husbandman helpeth the nature of the soil. - -It does not concern men who are asleep in their beds, but it is very -important to the traveler, whether the moon shines brightly or is -obscured. It is not easy to realize the serene joy of all the earth, -when she commences to shine unobstructedly, unless you have often been -abroad alone in moonlight nights. She seems to be waging continual war -with the clouds in your behalf. Yet we fancy the clouds to be _her_ -foes also. She comes on magnifying her dangers by her light, -revealing, displaying them in all their hugeness and blackness, then -suddenly casts them behind into the light concealed, and goes her way -triumphant through a small space of clear sky. - -In short, the moon traversing, or appearing to traverse, the small -clouds which lie in her way, now obscured by them, now easily -dissipating and shining through them, makes the drama of the moonlight -night to all watchers and night-travelers. Sailors speak of it as the -moon eating up the clouds. The traveler all alone, the moon all alone, -except for his sympathy, overcoming with incessant victory whole -squadrons of clouds above the forests and lakes and hills. When she is -obscured he so sympathizes with her that he could whip a dog for her -relief, as Indians do. When she enters on a clear field of great -extent in the heavens, and shines unobstructedly, he is glad. And when -she has fought her way through all the squadron of her foes, and rides -majestic in a clear sky unscathed, and there are no more any -obstructions in her path, he cheerfully and confidently pursues his -way, and rejoices in his heart, and the cricket also seems to express -joy in its song. - -How insupportable would be the days, if the night with its dews and -darkness did not come to restore the drooping world. As the shades -begin to gather around us, our primeval instincts are aroused, and we -steal forth from our lairs, like the inhabitants of the jungle, in -search of those silent and brooding thoughts which are the natural -prey of the intellect. - -Richter says that "the earth is every day overspread with the veil of -night for the same reason as the cages of birds are darkened, viz., -that we may the more readily apprehend the higher harmonies of thought -in the hush and quiet of darkness. Thoughts which day turns into smoke -and mist stand about us in the night as light and flames; even as the -column which fluctuates above the crater of Vesuvius, in the daytime -appears a pillar of cloud, but by night a pillar of fire." - -There are nights in this climate of such serene and majestic beauty, -so medicinal and fertilizing to the spirit, that methinks a sensitive -nature would not devote them to oblivion, and perhaps there is no man -but would be better and wiser for spending them out-of-doors, though -he should sleep all the next day to pay for it,--should sleep an -Endymion sleep, as the ancients expressed it,--nights which warrant -the Grecian epithet ambrosial, when, as in the land of Beulah, the -atmosphere is charged with dewy fragrance, and with music, and we take -our repose and have our dreams awake,--when the moon, not secondary to -the sun,-- - - "gives us his blaze again, - Void of its flame, and sheds a softer day. - Now through the passing cloud she seems to stoop, - Now up the pure cerulean rides sublime." - -Diana still hunts in the New England sky. - - "In Heaven queen she is among the spheres. - She, mistress-like, makes all things to be pure. - Eternity in her oft change she bears; - She Beauty is; by her the fair endure. - - "Time wears her not; she doth his chariot guide; - Mortality below her orb is placed; - By her the virtues of the stars down slide; - By her is Virtue's perfect image cast." - -The Hindoos compare the moon to a saintly being who has reached the -last stage of bodily existence. - -Great restorer of antiquity, great enchanter! In a mild night when the -harvest or hunter's moon shines unobstructedly, the houses in our -village, whatever architect they may have had by day, acknowledge only -a master. The village street is then as wild as the forest. New and -old things are confounded. I know not whether I am sitting on the -ruins of a wall, or on the material which is to compose a new one. -Nature is an instructed and impartial teacher, spreading no crude -opinions, and flattering none; she will be neither radical nor -conservative. Consider the moonlight, so civil, yet so savage! - -The light is more proportionate to our knowledge than that of day. It -is no more dusky in ordinary nights than our mind's habitual -atmosphere, and the moonlight is as bright as our most illuminated -moments are. - - "In such a night let me abroad remain - Till morning breaks, and all's confused again." - -Of what significance the light of day, if it is not the reflection of -an inward dawn?--to what purpose is the veil of night withdrawn, if -the morning reveals nothing to the soul? It is merely garish and -glaring. - -When Ossian, in his address to the sun, exclaims,-- - - "Where has darkness its dwelling? - Where is the cavernous home of the stars, - When thou quickly followest their steps, - Pursuing them like a hunter in the sky,-- - Thou climbing the lofty hills, - They descending on barren mountains?" - -who does not in his thought accompany the stars to their "cavernous -home," "descending" with them "on barren mountains"? - -Nevertheless, even by night the sky is blue and not black, for we see -through the shadow of the earth into the distant atmosphere of day, -where the sunbeams are reveling. - - - - -TRANSLATIONS - - - - -THE PROMETHEUS BOUND OF AESCHYLUS - - -PERSONS OF THE DRAMA - - KRATOS _and_ BIA (Strength and Force). - HEPHAISTUS (Vulcan). - PROMETHEUS. - CHORUS OF OCEAN NYMPHS. - OCEANUS. - IO, _Daughter of Inachus_. - HERMES. - -KRATOS _and_ BIA, HEPHAISTUS, PROMETHEUS. - - _Kr._ We are come to the far-bounding plain of earth, - To the Scythian way, to the unapproached solitude. - Hephaistus, orders must have thy attention, - Which the Father has enjoined on thee, this bold one - To the high-hanging rocks to bind - In indissoluble fetters of adamantine bonds. - For thy flower, the splendor of fire useful in all arts, - Stealing, he bestowed on mortals; and for such - A crime 't is fit he should give satisfaction to the gods; - That he may learn the tyranny of Zeus - To love, and cease from his man-loving ways. - - _Heph._ Kratos and Bia, your charge from Zeus - Already has its end, and nothing further in the way; - But I cannot endure to bind - A kindred god by force to a bleak precipice,-- - Yet absolutely there's necessity that I have courage for - these things; - For it is hard the Father's words to banish. - High-plotting son of the right-counseling Themis, - Unwilling thee unwilling in brazen fetters hard to be loosed - I am about to nail to this inhuman hill, - Where neither voice [you'll hear], nor form of any mortal - See, but, scorched by the sun's clear flame, - Will change your color's bloom; and to you glad - The various-robed night will conceal the light, - And sun disperse the morning frost again; - And always the burden of the present ill - Will wear you; for he that will relieve you has not yet been born. - Such fruits you've reaped from your man-loving ways, - For a god, not shrinking from the wrath of gods, - You have bestowed honors on mortals more than just, - For which this pleasureless rock you'll sentinel, - Standing erect, sleepless, not bending a knee; - And many sighs and lamentations to no purpose - Will you utter; for the mind of Zeus is hard to be changed; - And he is wholly rugged who may newly rule. - - _Kr._ Well, why dost thou delay and pity in vain? - Why not hate the god most hostile to gods, - Who has betrayed thy prize to mortals? - - _Heph._ The affinity indeed is appalling, and the familiarity. - - _Kr._ I agree, but to disobey the Father's words - How is it possible? Fear you not this more? - - _Heph._ Ay, you are always without pity, and full of confidence. - - _Kr._ For 't is no remedy to bewail this one; - Cherish not vainly troubles which avail naught. - - _Heph._ O much hated handicraft! - - _Kr._ Why hatest it? for in simple truth, for these misfortunes - Which are present now Art's not to blame. - - _Heph._ Yet I would 't had fallen to another's lot. - - _Kr._ All things were done but to rule the gods, - For none is free but Zeus. - - _Heph._ I knew it, and have naught to say against these things. - - _Kr._ Will you not haste, then, to put the bonds about him, - That the Father may not observe you loitering? - - _Heph._ Already at hand the shackles you may see. - - _Kr._ Taking them, about his hands with firm strength - Strike with the hammer, and nail him to the rocks. - - _Heph._ 'T is done, and not in vain this work. - - _Kr._ Strike harder, tighten, nowhere relax, - For he is skillful to find out ways e'en from the impracticable. - - _Heph._ Ay, but this arm is fixed inextricably. - - _Kr._ And this now clasp securely, that - He may learn he is a duller schemer than is Zeus. - - _Heph._ Except him would none justly blame me. - - _Kr._ Now with an adamantine wedge's stubborn fang - Through the breasts nail strongly. - - _Heph._ Alas! alas! Prometheus, I groan for thy afflictions. - - _Kr._ And do you hesitate? for Zeus' enemies - Do you groan? Beware lest one day you yourself will pity. - - _Heph._ You see a spectacle hard for eyes to behold. - - _Kr._ I see him meeting his deserts; - But round his sides put straps. - - _Heph._ To do this is necessity, insist not much. - - _Kr._ Surely I will insist and urge beside; - Go downward, and the thighs surround with force. - - _Heph._ Already it is done, the work, with no long labor. - - _Kr._ Strongly now drive the fetters, through and through, - For the critic of the works is difficult. - - _Heph._ Like your form your tongue speaks. - - _Kr._ Be thou softened, but for my stubbornness - Of temper and harshness reproach me not. - - _Heph._ Let us withdraw, for he has a net about his limbs. - - _Kr._ There now insult, and the shares of gods - Plundering on ephemerals bestow; what thee - Can mortals in these ills relieve? - Falsely thee the divinities Prometheus - Call; for you yourself need one _foreseeing_ - In what manner you will escape this fortune. - -PROMETHEUS, _alone_. - - O divine ether, and ye swift-winged winds, - Fountains of rivers, and countless smilings - Of the ocean waves, and earth, mother of all, - And thou all-seeing orb of the sun I call. - Behold me what a god I suffer at the hands of gods. - See by what outrages - Tormented the myriad-yeared - Time I shall endure; such the new - Ruler of the blessed has contrived for me, - Unseemly bonds. - Alas! alas! the present and the coming - Woe I groan; where ever of these sufferings - Must an end appear. - But what say I? I know beforehand all, - Exactly what will be, nor to me strange - Will any evil come. The destined fate - As easily as possible it behooves to bear, knowing - Necessity's is a resistless strength. - But neither to be silent nor unsilent about this - Lot is possible for me; for a gift to mortals - Giving, I wretched have been yoked to these necessities; - Within a hollow reed by stealth I carry off fire's - Stolen source, which seemed the teacher - Of all art to mortals, and a great resource. - For such crimes penalty I pay, - Under the sky, riveted in chains. - Ah! ah! alas! alas! - What echo, what odor has flown to me obscure, - Of god, or mortal, or else mingled,-- - Came it to this terminal hill - A witness of my sufferings, or wishing what? - Behold bound me an unhappy god, - The enemy of Zeus, fallen under - The ill will of all the gods, as many as - Enter into the hall of Zeus, - Through too great love of mortals. - Alas! alas! what fluttering do I hear - Of birds near? for the air rustles - With the soft rippling of wings. - Everything to me is fearful which creeps this way. - -PROMETHEUS _and_ CHORUS. - - _Ch._ Fear nothing; for friendly this band - Of wings with swift contention - Drew to this hill, hardly - Persuading the paternal mind. - The swift-carrying breezes sent me; - For the echo of beaten steel pierced the recesses - Of the caves, and struck out from me reserved modesty; - And I rushed unsandaled in a winged chariot. - - _Pr._ Alas! alas! alas! alas! - Offspring of the fruitful Tethys, - And of him rolling around all - The earth with sleepless stream children, - Of Father Ocean; behold, look on me; - By what bonds embraced - On this cliff's topmost rocks - I shall maintain unenvied watch. - - _Ch._ I see, Prometheus; but to my eyes a fearful - Mist has come surcharged - With tears, looking upon thy body - Shrunk to the rocks - By these mischiefs of adamantine bonds; - Indeed, new helmsmen rule Olympus; - And with new laws Zeus strengthens himself, annulling the old, - And the before great now makes unknown. - - _Pr._ Would that under earth, and below Hades, - Receptacle of dead, to impassable - Tartarus he had sent me, to bonds indissoluble - Cruelly conducting, that neither god - Nor any other had rejoiced at this. - But now the sport of winds, unhappy one, - A source of pleasure to my foes, I suffer. - - _Ch._ Who so hard-hearted - Of the gods, to whom these things are pleasant? - Who does not sympathize with thy - Misfortunes, excepting Zeus? for he in wrath always - Fixing his stubborn mind, - Afflicts the heavenly race; - Nor will he cease, until his heart is sated; - Or with some palm some one may take the power hard to be taken. - - _Pr._ Surely yet, though in strong - Fetters I am now maltreated, - The ruler of the blessed will have need of me, - To show the new conspiracy by which - He's robbed of sceptre and of honors, - And not at all me with persuasion's honey-tongued - Charms will he appease, nor ever, - Shrinking from his firm threats, will I - Declare this, till from cruel - Bonds he may release, and to do justice - For this outrage be willing. - - _Ch._ You are bold; and to bitter - Woes do nothing yield, - But too freely speak. - But my mind piercing fear disturbs; - For I'm concerned about thy fortunes, - Where at length arriving you may see - An end to these afflictions. For manners - Inaccessible, and a heart hard to be dissuaded has the son - of Kronos. - - _Pr._ I know, that--Zeus is stern and having - Justice to himself. But after all - Gentle-minded - He will one day be, when thus he's crushed, - And his stubborn wrath allaying, - Into agreement with me and friendliness - Earnest to me earnest he at length will come. - - _Ch._ The whole account disclose and tell us plainly, - In what crime taking you Zeus - Thus disgracefully and bitterly insults; - Inform us, if you are nowise hurt by the recital. - - _Pr._ Painful indeed it is to me to tell these things, - And a pain to be silent, and every way unfortunate. - When first the divinities began their strife, - And discord 'mong themselves arose, - Some wishing to cast Kronos from his seat, - That Zeus might reign, forsooth, others the contrary - Striving, that Zeus might never rule the gods; - Then I, the best advising, to persuade - The Titans, sons of Uranus and Chthon, - Unable was; but crafty stratagems - Despising with rude minds, - They thought without trouble to rule by force; - But to me my mother not once only, Themis, - And Gaea, of many names one form, - How the future should be accomplished had foretold, - That not by power nor by strength - Would it be necessary, but by craft the victors should prevail. - Such I in words expounding, - They deigned not to regard at all. - The best course, therefore, of those occurring then - Appeared to be, taking my mother to me, - Of my own accord to side with Zeus glad to receive me; - And by my counsels Tartarus' black-pitted - Depths conceals the ancient Kronos, - With his allies. In such things by me - The tyrant of the gods having been helped, - With base rewards like these repays me; - For there is somehow in kingship - This disease, not to trust its friends. - What then you ask, for what cause - He afflicts me, this will I now explain. - As soon as on his father's throne - He sat, he straightway to the gods distributes honors, - Some to one and to another some, and arranged - The government; but of unhappy mortals account - Had none; but blotting out the race - Entire, wished to create another new. - And these things none opposed but I, - But I adventured; I rescued mortals - From going destroyed to Hades. - Therefore, indeed, with such afflictions am I bent, - To suffer grievous, and piteous to behold, - And, holding mortals up to pity, myself am not - Thought worthy to obtain it; but without pity - Am I thus corrected, a spectacle inglorious to Zeus. - - _Ch._ Of iron heart and made of stone, - Whoe'er, Prometheus, with thy sufferings - Does not grieve; for I should not have wished to see - These things, and having seen them I am grieved at heart. - - _Pr._ Indeed to friends I'm piteous to behold. - - _Ch._ Did you in no respect go beyond this? - - _Pr._ True, mortals I made cease foreseeing fate. - - _Ch._ Having found what remedy for this all? - - _Pr._ Blind hopes in them I made to dwell. - - _Ch._ A great advantage this you gave to men. - - _Pr._ Beside these, too, I bestowed on them fire. - - _Ch._ And have mortals flamy fire? - - _Pr._ From which, indeed, they will learn many arts. - - _Ch._ Upon such charges, then, does Zeus - Maltreat you, and nowhere relax from ills? - Is there no term of suffering lying before thee? - - _Pr._ Nay, none at all, but when to him it may seem good. - - _Ch._ And how will it seem good? What hope? See you not that - You have erred? But how you've erred, for me to tell - Not pleasant, and to you a pain. But these things - Let us omit, and seek you some release from sufferings. - - _Pr._ Easy, whoever out of trouble holds his - Foot, to admonish and remind those faring - Ill. But all these things I knew; - Willing, willing I erred, I'll not deny; - Mortals assisting I myself found trouble. - Not indeed with penalties like these thought I - That I should pine on lofty rocks, - Gaining this drear unneighbored hill. - But bewail not my present woes, - But alighting, the fortunes creeping on - Hear ye, that ye may learn all to the end. - Obey me, obey, sympathize - With him now suffering. Thus indeed affliction, - Wandering round, sits now by one, then by another. - - _Ch._ Not to unwilling ears do you urge - This, Prometheus. - And now with light foot the swift-rushing - Seat leaving, and the pure ether, - Path of birds, to this peaked - Ground I come; for thy misfortunes - I wish fully to hear. - -PROMETHEUS, CHORUS, _and_ OCEANUS. - - _Oc._ I come to the end of a long way - Traveling to thee, Prometheus, - By my will without bits directing - This wing-swift bird; - For at thy fortunes know I grieve. - And, I think, affinity thus - Impels me, but apart from birth, - There's not to whom a higher rank - I would assign than thee. - And you will know these things as true, and not in vain - To flatter with the tongue is in me. Come, therefore, - Show how it is necessary to assist you; - For never will you say, than Ocean - There's a firmer friend to thee. - - _Pr._ Alas! what now? And you, then, of my sufferings - Come spectator? How didst thou dare, leaving - The stream which bears thy name, and rock-roofed - Caves self-built, to the iron-mother - Earth to go? To behold my fate - Hast come, and to compassionate my ills? - Behold a spectacle, this, the friend of Zeus, - Having with him stablished his tyranny, - With what afflictions by himself I'm bent. - - _Oc._ I see, Prometheus, and would admonish - Thee the best, although of varied craft. - Know thyself, and fit thy manners - New; for new also the king among the gods. - For if thus rude and whetted words - Thou wilt hurl out, quickly may Zeus, though sitting - Far above, hear thee, so that thy present wrath - Of troubles child's play will seem to be. - But, O wretched one, dismiss the indignation which thou hast, - And seek deliverance from these woes. - Like an old man, perhaps, I seem to thee to say these things; - Such, however, are the wages - Of the too lofty speaking tongue, Prometheus; - But thou art not yet humble, nor dost yield to ills, - And beside the present wish to receive others still. - But thou wouldst not, with my counsel, - Against the pricks extend your limbs, seeing that - A stern monarch irresponsible reigns. - And now I go, and will endeavor, - If I can, to release thee from these sufferings. - But be thou quiet, nor too rudely speak. - Know'st thou not well, with thy superior wisdom, that - On a vain tongue punishment is inflicted? - - _Pr._ I congratulate thee that thou art without blame, - Having shared and dared all with me; - And now leave off, and let it not concern thee. - For altogether thou wilt not persuade him, for he's not easily - persuaded, - But take heed yourself lest you be injured by the way. - - _Oc._ Far better thou art to advise those near - Than thyself; by deed and not by word I judge. - But me hastening by no means mayest thou detain, - For I boast, I boast, this favor will Zeus - Grant me, from these sufferings to release thee. - - _Pr._ So far I praise thee, and will never cease; - For zeal you nothing lack. But - Strive not; for in vain, naught helping - Me, thou 'lt strive, if aught to strive you wish. - But be thou quiet, holding thyself aloof, - For I would not, though I'm unfortunate, that on this account - Evils should come to many. - - _Oc._ Surely not, for me too the fortunes of thy brother - Atlas grieve, who towards the evening-places - Stands, the pillar of heaven and earth - Upon his shoulders bearing, a load not easy to be borne. - And the earth-born inhabitant of the Cilician - Caves seeing, I pitied, the savage monster - With a hundred heads, by force o'ercome, - Typhon impetuous, who stood 'gainst all the gods, - With frightful jaws hissing out slaughter; - And from his eyes flashed a Gorgonian light, - Utterly to destroy by force the sovereignty of Zeus; - But there came to him Zeus' sleepless bolt, - Descending thunder, breathing flame, - Which struck him out from lofty - Boastings. For, struck to his very heart, - His strength was scorched and thundered out. - And now a useless and extended carcass - Lies he near a narrow passage of the sea, - Pressed down under the roots of Aetna. - And on the topmost summit seated, Hephaistus - Hammers the ignited mass, whence will burst out at length - Rivers of fire, devouring with wild jaws - Fair-fruited Sicily's smooth fields; - Such rage will Typhon make boil over - With hot discharges of insatiable fire-breathing tempest, - Though by the bolt of Zeus burnt to a coal. - - _Pr._ Thou art not inexperienced, nor dost want - My counsel; secure thyself as thou know'st how; - And I against the present fortune will bear up, - Until the thought of Zeus may cease from wrath. - - _Oc._ Know'st thou not this, Prometheus, that - Words are healers of distempered wrath? - - _Pr._ If any seasonably soothe the heart, - And swelling passion check not rudely. - - _Oc._ In the consulting and the daring - What harm seest thou existing? Teach me. - - _Pr._ Trouble superfluous, and light-minded folly. - - _Oc._ Be this my ail then, since it is - Most profitable, being wise, not to seem wise. - - _Pr._ This will seem to be my error. - - _Oc._ Plainly homeward thy words remand me. - - _Pr._ Aye, let not grief for me into hostility cast thee. - - _Oc._ To the new occupant of the all-powerful seats? - - _Pr._ Beware lest ever his heart be angered. - - _Oc._ Thy fate, Prometheus, is my teacher. - - _Pr._ Go thou, depart; preserve the present mind. - - _Oc._ To me rushing this word you utter. - For the smooth path of the air sweeps with his wings - The four-legged bird; and gladly would - In the stalls at home bend a knee. - -PROMETHEUS _and_ CHORUS. - - _Ch._ I mourn for thee thy ruinous - Fate, Prometheus, - And tear-distilling from my tender - Eyes a stream has wet - My cheeks with flowing springs; - For these, unenvied, Zeus - By his own laws enforcing, - Haughty above the gods - That were displays his sceptre. - And every region now - With groans resounds, - Mourning the illustrious - And ancient honor - Of thee and of thy kindred; - As many mortals as the habitable seat - Of sacred Asia pasture, - With thy lamentable - Woes have sympathy; - And of the Colchian land, virgin - Inhabitants, in fight undaunted, - And Scythia's multitude, who the last - Place of earth, about - Maeotis lake possess, - And Arabia's martial flower, - And who the high-hung citadels - Of Caucasus inhabit near, - A hostile army, raging - With sharp-prowed spears. - Only one other god before, in sufferings - Subdued by injuries - Of adamantine bonds, I've seen, Titanian - Atlas, who always with superior strength - The huge and heavenly globe - On his back bears; - And with a roar the sea waves - Dashing, groans the deep, - And the dark depth of Hades murmurs underneath - The earth, and fountains of pure-running rivers - Heave a pitying sigh. - - _Pr._ Think not, indeed, through weakness or through pride - That I am silent; for with the consciousness I gnaw my heart, - Seeing myself thus basely used. - And yet to these new gods their shares - Who else than I wholly distributed? - But of these things I am silent; for I should tell you - What you know; the sufferings of mortals too - You've heard, how I made intelligent - And possessed of sense them ignorant before. - But I will speak, not bearing any grudge to men, - But showing in what I gave the good intention; - At first, indeed, seeing they saw in vain, - And hearing heard not; but like the forms - Of dreams, for that long time, rashly confounded - All, nor brick-woven dwellings - Knew they, placed in the sun, nor woodwork; - But digging down they dwelt, like puny - Ants, in sunless nooks of caves. - And there was naught to them, neither of winter sign, - Nor of flower-giving spring, nor fruitful - Summer, that was sure; but without knowledge - Did they all, till I taught them the risings - Of the stars, and goings down, hard to determine. - And numbers, chief of inventions, - I found out for them, and the assemblages of letters, - And memory, Muse-mother, doer of all things; - And first I joined in pairs wild animals - Obedient to the yoke; and that they might be - Alternate workers with the bodies of men - In the severest toils, I harnessed the rein-loving horses - To the car, the ornament of over-wealthy luxury. - And none else than I invented the sea-wandering - Flaxen-winged vehicles of sailors. - Such inventions I wretched having found out - For men, myself have not the ingenuity by which - From the now present ill I may escape. - - _Ch._ You suffer unseemly ill; deranged in mind - You err; and as some bad physician, falling - Sick you are dejected, and cannot find - By what remedies you may be healed. - - _Pr._ Hearing the rest from me more will you wonder - What arts and what expedients I planned. - That which was greatest, if any might fall sick, - There was alleviation none, neither to eat, - Nor to anoint, nor drink, but for the want - Of medicines they were reduced to skeletons, till to them - I showed the mingling of mild remedies, - By which all ails they drive away. - And many modes of prophecy I settled, - And distinguished first of dreams what a real - Vision is required to be, and omens hard to be determined - I made known to them; and tokens by the way, - And flight of crooked-taloned birds I accurately - Defined, which lucky are, - And unlucky, and what mode of life - Have each, and to one another what - Hostilities, attachments, and assemblings; - The entrails' smoothness, and what color having - They would be to the divinities acceptable; - Of the gall and liver the various symmetry, - And the limbs concealed in fat; and the long - Flank burning, to an art hard to be guessed - I showed the way to mortals; and flammeous signs - Explained, before obscure. - Such indeed these; and under ground - Concealed the helps to men; - Brass, iron, silver, gold, who - Would affirm that he discovered before me? - None, I well know, not wishing in vain to boast. - But learn all in one word, - _All arts to mortals from Prometheus_. - - _Ch._ Assist not mortals now unseasonably, - And neglect yourself unfortunate; for I - Am of good hope that, from these bonds - Released, you will yet have no less power than Zeus. - - _Pr._ Never thus has Fate the Accomplisher - Decreed to fulfill these things, but by a myriad ills - And woes subdued, thus bonds I flee; - For art 's far weaker than necessity. - - _Ch._ Who, then, is helmsman of necessity? - - _Pr._ The Fates three-formed, and the remembering Furies. - - _Ch._ Than these, then, is Zeus weaker? - - _Pr._ Ay, he could not escape what has been fated. - - _Ch._ But what to Zeus is fated, except always to rule? - - _Pr._ This thou wilt not learn; seek not to know. - - _Ch._ Surely some awful thing it is which you withhold. - - _Pr._ Remember other words, for this by no means - Is it time to tell, but to be concealed - As much as possible; for keeping this do I - Escape unseemly bonds and woes. - - _Ch._ Never may the all-ruling - Zeus put into my mind - Force antagonist to him. - Nor let me cease drawing near - The gods with holy sacrifices - Of slain oxen, by Father Ocean's - Ceaseless passage, - Nor offend with words, - But in me this remain - And ne'er be melted out. - 'Tis something sweet with bold - Hopes the long life to - Extend, in bright - Cheerfulness the cherishing spirit. - But I shudder, thee beholding - By a myriad sufferings tormented.... - For, not fearing Zeus, - In thy private mind thou dost regard - Mortals too much, Prometheus. - Come, though a thankless - Favor, friend, say where is any strength, - From ephemerals any help? Saw you not - The powerless inefficiency, - Dream-like, in which the blind ... - Race of mortals are entangled? - Never counsels of mortals - May transgress the harmony of Zeus. - I learned these things looking on - Thy destructive fate, Prometheus. - For different to me did this strain come, - And that which round thy baths - And couch I hymned, - With the design of marriage, when my father's child - With bridal gifts persuading, thou didst lead - Hesione the partner of thy bed. - -PROMETHEUS, CHORUS, _and_ IO. - - _Io._ What earth, what race, what being shall I is this - I see in bridles of rock - Exposed? By what crime's - Penalty dost thou perish? Show, to what part - Of earth I miserable have wandered. - Ah! ah! alas! alas! - Again some fly doth sting me wretched, - Image of earth-born Argus, cover it, earth; - I fear the myriad-eyed herdsman beholding; - For he goes having a treacherous eye, - Whom not e'en dead the earth conceals. - But me, wretched from the Infernals passing, - He pursues, and drives fasting along the seaside - Sand, while low resounds a wax-compacted reed, - Uttering sleep-giving law; alas! alas! O gods! - Where, gods! where lead me far-wandering courses? - In what sin, O son of Kronos, - In what sin ever having taken, - To these afflictions hast thou yoked me? alas! alas! - With fly-driven fear a wretched - Frenzied one dost thus afflict? - With fire burn, or with earth cover, or - To sea monsters give for food, nor - Envy me my prayers, king. - Enough much-wandered wanderings - Have exercised me, nor can I learn where - I shall escape from sufferings. - - _Ch._ Hear'st thou the address of the cow-horned virgin? - - _Pr._ And how not hear the fly-whirled virgin, - Daughter of Inachus, who Zeus' heart warmed - With love, and now the courses over long, - By Here hated, forcedly performs? - - _Io._ Whence utterest thou my father's name? - Tell me, miserable, who thou art, - That to me, O suffering one, me born to suffer, - Thus true things dost address? - The god-sent ail thou'st named, - Which wastes me stinging - With maddening goads, alas! alas! - With foodless and unseemly leaps - Rushing headlong, I came, - By wrathful plots subdued. - Who of the wretched, who, alas! alas! suffers like me? - But to me clearly show - What me awaits to suffer, - What not necessary; what remedy of ill, - Teach, if indeed thou know'st; speak out, - Tell the ill-wandering virgin. - - _Pr._ I'll clearly tell thee all you wish to learn. - Not weaving in enigmas, but in simple speech, - As it is just to open the mouth to friends. - Thou seest the giver of fire to men, Prometheus. - - _Io._ O thou who didst appear a common help to mortals, - Wretched Prometheus, to atone for what do you endure this? - - _Pr._ I have scarce ceased my sufferings lamenting. - - _Io._ Would you not grant this favor to me? - - _Pr._ Say what you ask; for you'd learn all from me. - - _Io._ Say who has bound thee to the cliff. - - _Pr._ The will, indeed, of Zeus, Hephaistus' hand. - - _Io._ And penalty for what crimes dost thou pay? - - _Pr._ Thus much only can I show thee. - - _Io._ But beside this, declare what time will be - To me unfortunate the limit of my wandering. - - _Pr._ Not to learn is better for thee than to learn these things. - - _Io._ Conceal not from me what I am to suffer. - - _Pr._ Indeed, I grudge thee not this favor. - - _Io._ Why, then, dost thou delay to tell the whole? - - _Pr._ There's no unwillingness, but I hesitate to vex thy mind. - - _Io._ Care not for me more than is pleasant to me. - - _Pr._ Since you are earnest, it behooves to speak; hear then. - - _Ch._ Not yet, indeed; but a share of pleasure also give to me. - First we'll learn the malady of this one, - Herself relating her destructive fortunes, - And the remainder of her trials let her learn from thee. - - _Pr._ 'T is thy part, Io, to do these a favor, - As well for every other reason, and as they are sisters of thy - father. - Since to weep and to lament misfortunes, - There where one will get a tear - From those attending, is worthy the delay. - - _Io._ I know not that I need distrust you, - But in plain speech you shall learn - All that you ask for; and yet e'en telling I lament - The god-sent tempest, and dissolution - Of my form--whence to me miserable it came. - For always visions in the night, moving about - My virgin chambers, enticed me - With smooth words: "O greatly happy virgin, - Why be a virgin long? is permitted to obtain - The greatest marriage. For Zeus with love's dart - Has been warmed by thee, and wishes to unite - In love; but do thou, O child, spurn not the couch - Of Zeus, but go out to Lerna's deep - Morass, and stables of thy father's herds, - That the divine eye may cease from desire." - With such dreams every night - Was I unfortunate distressed, till I dared tell - My father of the night-wandering visions. - And he to Pytho and Dodona frequent - Prophets sent, that he might learn what it was necessary - He should say or do, to do agreeably to the gods. - And they came bringing ambiguous - Oracles, darkly and indistinctly uttered. - But finally a plain report came to Inachus, - Clearly enjoining him and telling - Out of my home and country to expel me, - Discharged to wander to the earth's last bounds; - And if he was not willing, from Zeus would come - A fiery thunderbolt, which would annihilate all his race. - Induced by such predictions of the Loxian, - Against his will he drove me out, - And shut me from the houses; but Zeus' rein - Compelled him by force to do these things. - Immediately my form and mind were - Changed, and horned, as you behold, stung - By a sharp-mouthed fly, with frantic leaping - Rushed I to Cenchrea's palatable stream, - And Lerna's source; but a herdsman born-of-earth - Of violent temper, Argus, accompanied, with numerous - Eyes my steps observing. - But unexpectedly a sudden fate - Robbed him of life; and I, fly-stung, - By lash divine am driven from land to land. - You hear what has been done; and if you have to say aught, - What's left of labors, speak; nor pitying me - Comfort with false words; for an ill - The worst of all, I say, are made-up words. - - _Ch._ Ah! ah! enough, alas! - Ne'er, ne'er did I presume such cruel words - Would reach my ears, nor thus unsightly - And intolerable hurts, sufferings, fears with a two-edged - Goad would chill my soul; - Alas! alas! fate! fate! - I shudder, seeing the state of Io. - - _Pr._ Beforehand sigh'st thou, and art full of fears, - Hold till the rest also thou learn'st. - - _Ch._ Tell, teach; for to the sick 't is sweet - To know the remaining pain beforehand clearly. - - _Pr._ Your former wish ye got from me - With ease; for first ye asked to learn from her - Relating her own trials; - The rest now hear, what sufferings 't is necessary - This young woman should endure from Here. - But do thou, offspring of Inachus, my words - Cast in thy mind, that thou may'st learn the boundaries of - the way. - First, indeed, hence towards the rising of the sun - Turning thyself, travel uncultivated lands, - And to the Scythian nomads thou wilt come, who woven roofs - On high inhabit, on well-wheeled carts, - With far-casting bows equipped; - Whom go not near, but to the sea-resounding cliffs - Bending thy feet, pass from the region. - On the left hand the iron-working - Chalybes inhabit, whom thou must needs beware, - For they are rude and inaccessible to strangers. - And thou wilt come to the Hybristes river, not ill named, - Which pass not, for not easy is 't to pass, - Before you get to Caucasus itself, highest - Of mountains, where the stream spurts out its tide - From the very temples; and passing over - The star-neighbored summits, 't is necessary to go - The southern way, where thou wilt come to the man-hating - Army of the Amazons, who Themiscyra one day - Will inhabit, by the Thermedon, where's - Salmydessia, rough jaw of the sea, - Inhospitable to sailors, stepmother of ships; - They will conduct thee on thy way, and very cheerfully. - And to the Cimmerian isthmus thou wilt come, - Just on the narrow portals of a lake, which leaving - It behooves thee with stout heart to pass the Moeotic straits; - And there will be to mortals ever a great fame - Of thy passage, and Bosphorus from thy name - 'T will be called. And leaving Europe's plain - The continent of Asia thou wilt reach.--Seemeth to thee, - forsooth, - The tyrant of the gods in everything to be - Thus violent? For he a god, with this mortal - Wishing to unite, drove her to these wanderings. - A bitter wooer didst thou find, O virgin, - For thy marriage. For the words you now have heard - Think not yet to be the prelude. - - _Io._ Ah! me! me! alas! alas! - - _Pr._ Again dost shriek and heave a sigh? What - Wilt thou do when the remaining ills thou learn'st? - - _Ch._ And hast thou any further suffering to tell her? - - _Pr._ Ay, a tempestuous sea of baleful woe. - - _Io._ What profit, then, for me to live, and not in haste - To cast myself from this rough rock, - That rushing down upon the plain I may be released - From every trouble? For better once for all to die, - Than all my days to suffer evilly. - - _Pr._ Unhappily my trials would'st thou hear, - To whom to die has not been fated; - For this would be release from sufferings; - But now there is no end of ills lying - Before me, until Zeus falls from sovereignty. - - _Io._ And is Zeus ever to fall from power? - - _Pr._ Thou would'st be pleased, I think, to see this accident. - - _Io._ How should I not, who suffer ill from Zeus? - - _Pr._ That these things then are so, be thou assured. - - _Io._ By what one will the tyrant's power be robbed? - - _Pr._ Himself, by his own senseless counsels. - - _Io._ In what way show, if there's no harm. - - _Pr._ He will make such a marriage as one day he'll repent. - - _Io._ Of god or mortal? If to be spoken, tell. - - _Pr._ What matters which? For these things are not to be told. - - _Io._ By a wife will he be driven from the throne? - - _Pr._ Ay, she will bring forth a son superior to his father. - - _Io._ Is there no refuge for him from this fate? - - _Pr._ None, surely, till I may be released from bonds. - - _Io._ Who, then, is to release thee, Zeus unwilling? - - _Pr._ He must be some one of thy descendants. - - _Io._ How sayest thou? that my child will deliver thee from ills? - - _Pr._ Third of thy race after ten other births. - - _Io._ This oracle is not yet easy to be guessed. - - _Pr._ But do not seek to understand thy sufferings. - - _Io._ First proffering gain to me, do not then withhold it. - - _Pr._ I'll grant thee one of two relations. - - _Io._ What two propose, and give to me my choice. - - _Pr._ I give; choose whether thy remaining troubles - I shall tell thee clearly, or him that will release me. - - _Ch._ Consent to do her the one favor, - Me the other, nor deem us undeserving of thy words; - To her indeed tell what remains of wandering, - And to me, who will release; for I desire this. - - _Pr._ Since ye are earnest, I will not resist - To tell the whole, as much as ye ask for. - To thee first, Io, vexatious wandering I will tell, - Which engrave on the remembering tablets of the mind. - When thou hast passed the flood boundary of continents, - Towards the flaming orient sun-traveled ... - Passing through the tumult of the sea, until you reach - The Gorgonian plains of Cisthene, where - The Phorcides dwell, old virgins, - Three, swan-shaped, having a common eye, - One-toothed, whom neither the sun looks on - With his beams, nor nightly moon ever. - And near, their winged sisters three, - Dragon-scaled Gorgons, odious to men, - Whom no mortal beholding will have breath; - Such danger do I tell thee. - But hear another odious sight; - Beware the gryphons, sharp-mouthed - Dogs of Zeus, which bark not, and the one-eyed Arimaspian - Host, going on horseback, who dwell about - The golden-flowing flood of Pluto's channel; - These go not near. But to a distant land - Thou 'lt come, a dusky race, who near the fountains - Of the sun inhabit, where is the Aethiopian river. - Creep down the banks of this, until thou com'st - To a descent, where from Byblinian mounts - The Nile sends down its sacred palatable stream. - This will conduct thee to the triangled land - Nilean, where, Io, 't is decreed - Thou and thy progeny shall form the distant colony. - If aught of this is unintelligible to thee, and hard to be - found out, - Repeat thy questions, and learn clearly; - For more leisure than I want is granted me. - - _Ch._ If to her aught remaining or omitted - Thou hast to tell of her pernicious wandering, - Speak; but if thou hast said all, give us - The favor which we ask, for surely thou remember'st. - - _Pr._ The whole term of her traveling has she heard. - But that she may know that not in vain she hears me, - I'll tell what before coming hither she endured, - Giving this as proof of my relations. - The great multitude of words I will omit, - And proceed unto the very limit of thy wanderings. - When, then, you came to the Molossian ground, - And near the high-ridged Dodona, where - Oracle and seat is of Thesprotian Zeus, - And prodigy incredible, the speaking oaks, - By whom you clearly, and naught enigmatically, - Were called the illustrious wife of Zeus - About to be, if aught of these things soothes thee; - Thence, driven by the fly, you came - The seaside way to the great gulf of Rhea, - From which by courses retrograde you are now tempest-tossed. - But for time to come the sea gulf, - Clearly know, will be called Ionian, - Memorial of thy passage to all mortals. - Proofs to thee are these of my intelligence, - That it sees somewhat more than the apparent. - But the rest to you and her in common I will tell, - Having come upon the very track of former words. - There is a city Canopus, last of the land, - By Nile's very mouth and bank; - There at length Zeus makes thee sane, - Stroking with gentle hand, and touching only. - And, named from Zeus' begetting, - Thou wilt bear dark Epaphus, who will reap - As much land as broad-flowing Nile doth water; - And fifth from him, a band of fifty children - Again to Argos shall unwilling come, - Of female sex, avoiding kindred marriage - Of their cousins; but they, with minds inflamed, - Hawks by doves not far left behind, - Will come pursuing marriages - Not to be pursued, but heaven will take vengeance on their bodies; - For them Pelasgia shall receive by Mars - Subdued with woman's hand with night-watching boldness. - For each wife shall take her husband's life, - Staining a two-edged dagger in his throat. - Such 'gainst my foes may Cypris come.-- - But one of the daughters shall love soften - Not to slay her bedfellow, but she will waver - In her mind; and one of two things will prefer, - To hear herself called timid, rather than stained with blood; - She shall in Argos bear a royal race.-- - Of a long speech is need this clearly to discuss. - From this seed, however, shall be born a brave, - Famed for his bow, who will release me - From these sufferings. Such oracle my ancient - Mother told me, Titanian Themis; - But how and by what means, this needs long speech - To tell, and nothing, learning, wilt thou gain. - - _Io._ Ah me! ah wretched me! - Spasms again and brain-struck - Madness burn me within, and a fly's dart - Stings me,--not wrought by fire. - My heart with fear knocks at my breast, - And my eyes whirl round and round, - And from my course I'm borne by madness' - Furious breath, unable to control my tongue; - While confused words dash idly - 'Gainst the waves of horrid woe. - - _Ch._ Wise, wise indeed was he, - Who first in mind - This weighed, and with the tongue expressed, - To marry according to one's degree is best by far; - Nor, being a laborer with the hands, - To woo those who are by wealth corrupted, - Nor, those by birth made great. - Never, never me - Fates ... - May you behold the sharer of Zeus' couch. - Nor may I be brought near to any husband among those from heaven, - For I fear, seeing the virginhood of Io, - Not content with man, through marriage vexed - With these distressful wanderings by Here. - But for myself, since an equal marriage is without fear, - I am not concerned lest the love of the almighty - Gods cast its inevitable eye on me. - Without war, indeed, this war, producing - Troubles; nor do I know what would become of me; - For I see not how I should escape the subtlety of Zeus. - - _Pr._ Surely shall Zeus, though haughty now, - Yet be humble, such marriage - He prepares to make, which from sovereignty - And the throne will cast him down obscure; and Father Kronos' - Curse will then be all fulfilled, - Which falling from the ancient seats he imprecated. - And refuge from such ills none of the gods - But I can show him clearly. - I know these things, and in what manner. Now, therefore, - Being bold, let him sit trusting to lofty - Sounds, and brandishing with both hands his fire-breathing weapon, - For naught will these avail him, not - To fall disgracefully intolerable falls; - Such wrestler does he now prepare, - Himself against himself, a prodigy most hard to be withstood; - Who, indeed, will invent a better flame than lightning, - And a loud sound surpassing thunder; - And shiver the trident, Neptune's weapon, - The marine earth-shaking ail. - Stumbling upon this ill he'll learn - How different to govern and to serve. - - _Ch._ Ay, as you hope you vent this against Zeus. - - _Pr._ What will be done, and also what I hope, I say. - - _Ch._ And are we to expect that any will rule Zeus? - - _Pr._ Even than these more grievous ills he'll have. - - _Ch._ How fear'st thou not, hurling such words? - - _Pr._ What should I fear, to whom to die has not been fated? - - _Ch._ But suffering more grievous still than this he may inflict. - - _Pr._ Then let him do it; all is expected by me. - - _Ch._ Those reverencing Adrastia are wise. - - _Pr._ Revere, pray, flatter each successive ruler. - Me less than nothing Zeus concerns. - Let him do, let him prevail this short time - As he will, for long he will not rule the gods,-- - But I see here, indeed, Zeus' runner, - The new tryant's drudge; - Doubtless he brings some new message. - -PROMETHEUS, CHORUS, _and_ HERMES. - - _Her._ To thee, the sophist, the bitterly bitter, - The sinner against gods, the giver of honors - To ephemerals, the thief of fire, I speak; - The Father commands thee to tell the marriage - Which you boast, by which he falls from power; - And that, too, not enigmatically, - But each particular declare; nor cause me - Double journeys, Prometheus; for thou see'st that - Zeus is not appeased by such. - - _Pr._ Solemn-mouthed and full of wisdom - Is thy speech, as of the servant of the gods. - Ye newly rule, and think forsooth - To dwell in griefless citadels; have I not seen - Two tyrants fallen from these? - And third I shall behold him ruling now, - Basest and speediest. Do I seem to thee - To fear and shrink from the new gods? - Nay, much and wholly I fall short of this. - The way thou cam'st go through the dust again; - For thou wilt learn naught which thou ask'st of me. - - _Her._ Ay, by such insolence before - You brought yourself into these woes. - - _Pr._ Plainly know, I would not change - My ill fortune for thy servitude, - For better, I think, to serve this rock - Than be the faithful messenger of Father Zeus. - Thus to insult the insulting it is fit. - - _Her._ Thou seem'st to enjoy thy present state. - - _Pr._ I enjoy? Enjoying thus my enemies - Would I see; and thee 'mong them I count. - - _Her._ Dost thou blame me for aught of thy misfortunes? - - _Pr._ In plain words, all gods I hate, - As many as well treated wrong me unjustly. - - _Her._ I hear thee raving, no slight ail. - - _Pr._ Ay, I should ail, if ail one's foes to hate. - - _Her._ If prosperous, thou couldst not be borne. - - _Pr._ Ah me! - - _Her._ This word Zeus does not know. - - _Pr._ But time growing old teaches all things. - - _Her._ And still thou know'st not yet how to be prudent. - - _Pr._ For I should not converse with thee a servant. - - _Her._ Thou seem'st to say naught which the Father wishes. - - _Pr._ And yet his debtor I'd requite the favor. - - _Her._ Thou mock'st me verily as if I were a child. - - _Pr._ And art thou not a child, and simpler still than this, - If thou expectest to learn aught from me? - There is not outrage nor expedient, by which - Zeus will induce me to declare these things, - Before he loose these grievous bonds. - Let there be hurled, then, flaming fire, - And the white-winged snows, and thunders - Of the earth, let him confound and mingle all. - For none of these will bend me till I tell - By whom 't is necessary he should fall from sovereignty. - - _Her._ Consider now if these things seem helpful. - - _Pr._ Long since these were considered and resolved. - - _Her._ Venture, O vain one, venture, at length, - In view of present sufferings to be wise. - - _Pr._ In vain you vex me, as a wave, exhorting. - Ne'er let it come into thy mind that I, fearing - Zeus' anger, shall become woman-minded, - And beg him, greatly hated, - With womanish upturnings of the hands, - To loose me from these bonds. I am far from it. - - _Her._ Though saying much I seem in vain to speak; - For thou art nothing softened nor appeased - By prayers; but champing at the bit like a new-yoked - Colt, thou strugglest and contend'st against the reins. - But thou art violent with feeble wisdom. - For stubbornness to him who is not wise, - Itself alone, is less than nothing strong. - But consider, if thou art not persuaded by my words, - What storm and triple surge of ills - Will come upon thee, not to be avoided; for first this rugged - Cliff with thunder and lightning flame - The Father'll rend, and hide - Thy body, and a strong arm will bury thee. - When thou hast spent a long length of time, - Thou wilt come back to light; and Zeus' - Winged dog, a bloodthirsty eagle, ravenously - Shall tear the great rag of thy body, - Creeping an uninvited guest all day, - And banquet on thy liver black by eating. - Of such suffering expect not any end, - Before some god appear - Succeeding to thy labors, and wish to go to rayless - Hades, and the dark depths of Tartarus. - Therefore deliberate; since this is not made - Boasting, but in earnest spoken; - For to speak falsely does not know the mouth - Of Zeus, but every word he does. So - Look about thee, and consider, nor ever think - Obstinacy better than prudence. - - _Ch._ To us indeed Hermes appears to say not unseasonable things, - For he directs thee, leaving off - Self-will, to seek prudent counsel. - Obey; for it is base to err, for a wise man. - - _Pr._ To me foreknowing these messages - He has uttered, but for a foe to suffer ill - From foes is naught unseemly. - Therefore 'gainst me let there be hurled - Fire's double-pointed curl, and air - Be provoked with thunder, and a tumult - Of wild winds; and earth from its foundations - Let a wind rock, and its very roots, - And with a rough surge mingle - The sea waves with the passages - Of the heavenly stars, and to black - Tartarus let him quite cast down my - Body, by necessity's strong eddies. - Yet after all he will not kill me. - - _Her._ Such words and counsels you may hear - From the brain-struck. - For what lacks he of being mad? - And if prosperous, what does he cease from madness? - Do you, therefore, who sympathize - With this one's suffering, - From these places quick withdraw somewhere, - Lest the harsh bellowing thunder - Stupefy your minds. - - _Ch._ Say something else, and exhort me - To some purpose; for surely - Thou hast intolerably abused this word. - How direct me to perform a baseness? - I wish to suffer with him whate'er is necessary, - For I have learned to hate betrayers; - Nor is the pest - Which I abominate more than this. - - _Her._ Remember, then, what I foretell; - Nor by calamity pursued - Blame fortune, nor e'er say - That Zeus into unforeseen - Ill has cast you; surely not, but yourselves - You yourselves; for knowing, - And not suddenly nor clandestinely, - You'll be entangled through your folly - In an impassable net of woe. - - _Pr._ Surely indeed, and no more in word, - Earth is shaken; - And a hoarse sound of thunder - Bellows near; and wreaths of lightning - Flash out fiercely blazing, and whirlwinds dust - Whirl up; and leap the blasts - Of all winds, 'gainst one another - Blowing in opposite array; - And air with sea is mingled; - Such impulse against me from Zeus, - Producing fear, doth plainly come. - O revered Mother, O Ether - Revolving common light to all, - You see me, how unjust things I endure! - - - - -TRANSLATIONS FROM PINDAR - - -ELYSIUM - -OLYMPIA II, 109-150 - - Equally by night always, - And by day, having the sun, the good - Lead a life without labor, not disturbing the earth - With violent hands, nor the sea water, - For a scanty living; but honored - By the gods, who take pleasure in fidelity to oaths, - They spend a tearless existence; - While the others suffer unsightly pain. - But as many as endured threefold - Probation, keeping the mind from all - Injustice, going the way of Zeus to Kronos' tower, - Where the ocean breezes blow around - The island of the blessed; and flowers of gold shine, - Some on the land from dazzling trees, - And the water nourishes others; - With garlands of these they crown their hands and hair, - According to the just decrees of Rhadamanthus, - Whom Father Kronos, the husband of Rhea, - Having the highest throne of all, has ready by himself as his - assistant judge. - Peleus and Kadmus are regarded among these; - And his mother brought Achilles, when she had - Persuaded the heart of Zeus with prayers, - Who overthrew Hector, Troy's - Unconquered, unshaken column, and gave Cycnus - To death, and Morning's Aethiop son. - -OLYMPIA V, 34-39 - - Always around virtues labor and expense strive toward a work - Covered with danger; but those succeeding seem to be wise even - to the citizens. - -OLYMPIA VI, 14-17 - - Dangerless virtues, - Neither among men, nor in hollow ships, - Are honorable; but many remember if a fair deed is done. - - -ORIGIN OF RHODES - -OLYMPIA VII, 100-129 - - Ancient sayings of men relate, - That when Zeus and the Immortals divided earth, - Rhodes was not yet apparent in the deep sea; - But in salt depths the island was hid. - And, Helios being absent, no one claimed for him his lot; - So they left him without any region for his share, - The pure god. And Zeus was about to make a second drawing of lots - For him warned. But he did not permit him; - For he said that within the white sea he had seen a certain land - springing up from the bottom, - Capable of feeding many men, and suitable for flocks. - And straightway he commanded golden-filleted Lachesis - To stretch forth her hands, and not contradict - The great oath of the gods, but with the son of Kronos - Assent that, to the bright air being sent by his nod, - It should hereafter be his prize. And his words were fully - performed, - Meeting with truth. The island sprang from the watery - Sea; and the genial Father of penetrating beams, - Ruler of fire-breathing horses, has it. - -OLYMPIA VIII, 95, 96 - - A man doing fit things - Forgets Hades. - - -HERCULES NAMES THE HILL OF KRONOS - -OLYMPIA X, 59-68 - - He named the Hill of Kronos, for before nameless, - While Oenomaus ruled, it was moistened with much snow; - And at this first rite the Fates stood by, - And Time, who alone proves - Unchanging truth. - - -OLYMPIA AT EVENING - -OLYMPIA X, 85-92 - - With the javelin Phrastor struck the mark; - And Eniceus cast the stone afar, - Whirling his hand, above them all, - And with applause it rushed - Through a great tumult; - And the lovely evening light - Of the fair-faced moon shone on the scene. - - -FAME - -OLYMPIA X, 109-117 - - When, having done fair things, O Agesidamus, - Without the reward of song, a man may come - To Hades' rest, vainly aspiring - He obtains with toil some short delight. - But the sweet-voiced lyre - And the sweet flute bestow some favor; - For Zeus' Pierian daughters - Have wide fame. - - -TO ASOPICHUS OF ORCHOMENOS, ON HIS VICTORY IN THE STADIC COURSE - -OLYMPIA XIV - - O ye, who inhabit for your lot the seat of the Cephisian - Streams, yielding fair steeds, renowned Graces, - Ruling bright Orchomenos, - Protectors of the ancient race of Minyae, - Hear, when I pray. - For with you are all pleasant - And sweet things to mortals; - If wise, if fair, if noble, - Any man. For neither do the gods, - Without the august Graces, - Rule the dance, - Nor feasts; but stewards - Of all works in heaven, - Having placed their seats - By golden-bowed Pythian Apollo, - They reverence the eternal power - Of the Olympian Father. - August Aglaia and song-loving - Euphrosyne, children of the mightiest god, - Hear now, and Thalia loving song, - Beholding this band, in favorable fortune - Lightly dancing; for in Lydian - Manner meditating, - I come celebrating Asopichus, - Since Minya by thy means is victor at the Olympic games. - Now to Persephone's - Black-walled house go, Echo, - Bearing to his father the famous news; - That seeing Cleodamus thou mayest say, - That in renowned Pisa's vale - His son crowned his young hair - With plumes of illustrious contests. - - -TO THE LYRE - -PYTHIA I, 8-11 - - Thou extinguishest even the spear-like bolt - Of everlasting fire. And the eagle sleeps on the sceptre of Zeus, - Drooping his swift wings on either side, - The king of birds. - -PYTHIA I, 25-28 - - Whatever things Zeus has not loved - Are terrified, hearing - The voice of the Pierians, - On earth and the immeasurable sea. - -PYTHIA II, 159-161 - - A plain-spoken man brings advantage to every government,-- - To a monarchy, and when the - Impetuous crowd, and when the wise, rule a city. - -As a whole, the third Pythian Ode, to Hiero, on his victory in the -single-horse race, is one of the most memorable. We extract first the -account of - - -AESCULAPIUS - -PYTHIA III, 83-110 - - As many, therefore, as came suffering - From spontaneous ulcers, or wounded - In their limbs with glittering steel, - Or with the far-cast stone, - Or by the summer's heat o'ercome in body, - Or by winter, relieving he saved from - Various ills; some cherishing - With soothing strains, - Others having drunk refreshing draughts, or applying - Remedies to the limbs, others by cutting off he made erect. - But even wisdom is bound by gain, - And gold appearing in the hand persuaded even him, with its - bright reward, - To bring a man from death - Already overtaken. But the Kronian, smiting - With both hands, quickly took away - The breath from his breasts; - And the rushing thunderbolt hurled him to death. - It is necessary for mortal minds - To seek what is reasonable from the divinities, - Knowing what is before the feet, of what destiny we are. - Do not, my soul, aspire to the life - Of the Immortals, but exhaust the practicable means. - -In the conclusion of the ode, the poet reminds the victor, Hiero, that -adversity alternates with prosperity in the life of man, as in the -instance of - - -PELEUS AND CADMUS - -PYTHIA III, 145-205 - - The Immortals distribute to men - With one good two - Evils. The foolish, therefore, - Are not able to bear these with grace, - But the wise, turning the fair outside. - - But thee the lot of good fortune follows, - or surely great Destiny - Looks down upon a king ruling the people, - If on any man. But a secure life - Was not to Peleus, son of Aeacus, - Nor to godlike Cadmus, - Who yet are said to have had - The greatest happiness - Of mortals, and who heard - The song of the golden-filleted Muses, - On the mountain, and in seven-gated Thebes, - When the one married fair-eyed Harmonia, - And the other Thetis, the illustrious daughter of wise-counseling - Nereus. - And the gods feasted with both; - And they saw the royal children of Kronos - On golden seats, and received - Marriage gifts; and having exchanged - Former toils for the favor of Zeus, - They made erect the heart. - But in course of time - His three daughters robbed the one - Of some of his serenity by acute - Sufferings; when Father Zeus, forsooth, came - To the lovely couch of white-armed Thyone. - And the other's child, whom only the immortal - Thetis bore in Phthia, losing - His life in war by arrows, - Being consumed by fire excited - The lamentation of the Danaans. - But if any mortal has in his - Mind the way of truth, - It is necessary to make the best - Of what befalls from the blessed. - For various are the blasts - Of high-flying winds. - The happiness of men stays not a long time, - Though fast it follows rushing on. - - Humble in humble estate, lofty in lofty, - I will be; and the attending daemon - I will always reverence in my mind, - Serving according to my means. - But if Heaven extend to me kind wealth, - I have hope to find lofty fame hereafter. - Nestor and Lycian Sarpedon-- - They are the fame of men-- - From resounding words which skillful artists - Sung, we know. - For virtue through renowned - Song is lasting. - But for few is it easy to obtain. - - -APOLLO - -PYTHIA V, 87-90 - - He bestowed the lyre, - And he gives the muse to whom he wishes, - Bringing peaceful serenity to the breast. - - -MAN - -PYTHIA VIII, 136 - - The phantom of a shadow are men. - - -HYPSEUS' DAUGHTER CYRENE - -PYTHIA IX, 31-44 - - He reared the white-armed child Cyrene, - Who loved neither the alternating motion of the loom, - Nor the superintendence of feasts, - With the pleasures of companions; - But, with javelins of steel - And the sword contending, - To slay wild beasts; - Affording surely much - And tranquil peace to her father's herds; - Spending little sleep - Upon her eyelids, - As her sweet bedfellow, creeping on at dawn. - - -THE HEIGHT OF GLORY - -PYTHIA X, 33-48 - - Fortunate and celebrated - By the wise is that man - Who, conquering by his hands or virtue - Of his feet, takes the highest prizes - Through daring and strength, - And living still sees his youthful son - Deservedly obtaining Pythian crowns. - The brazen heaven is not yet accessible to him. - But whatever glory we - Of mortal race may reach, - He goes beyond, even to the boundaries - Of navigation. But neither in ships, nor going on foot, - Couldst thou find the wonderful way to the contests of the - Hyperboreans. - - -TO ARISTOCLIDES, VICTOR AT THE NEMEAN GAMES - -NEMEA III, 32-37 - - If, being beautiful, - And doing things like to his form, - The child of Aristophanes - Went to the height of manliness, no further - Is it easy to go over the untraveled sea, - Beyond the Pillars of Hercules. - - -THE YOUTH OF ACHILLES - -NEMEA III, 69-90 - - One with native virtues - Greatly prevails; but he who - Possesses acquired talents, an obscure man, - Aspiring to various things, never with fearless - Foot advances, but tries - A myriad virtues with inefficient mind. - Yellow-haired Achilles, meanwhile, remaining in the house of - Philyra, - Being a boy played - Great deeds; often brandishing - Iron-pointed javelins in his hands, - Swift as the winds, in fight he wrought death to savage lions; - And he slew boars, and brought their bodies - Palpitating to Kronian Centaurus, - As soon as six years old. And all the while - Artemis and bold Athene admired him, - Slaying stags without dogs or treacherous nets; - For he conquered them on foot. - -NEMEA IV, 66-70 - - Whatever virtues sovereign destiny has given me, - I well know that time, creeping on, - Will fulfill what was fated. - -NEMEA V, 1-8 - -The kindred of Pytheas, a victor in the Nemean games, had wished to -procure an ode from Pindar for less than three drachmae, asserting that -they could purchase a statue for that sum. In the following lines he -nobly reproves their meanness, and asserts the value of his labors, -which, unlike those of the statuary, will bear the fame of the hero to -the ends of the earth. - - No image-maker am I, who being still make statues - Standing on the same base. But on every - Merchant-ship and in every boat, sweet song, - Go from Aegina to announce that Lampo's son, - Mighty Pytheas, - Has conquered the pancratian crown at the Nemean games. - - -THE DIVINE IN MAN - -NEMEA VI, 1-13 - - One the race of men and of gods; - And from one mother - We all breathe. - But quite different power - Divides us, so that the one is nothing, - But the brazen heaven remains always - A secure abode. Yet in some respect we are related, - Either in mighty mind or form, to the Immortals; - Although not knowing - To what resting-place, - By day or night, Fate has written that we shall run. - - -THE TREATMENT OF AJAX - -NEMEA VIII, 44-51 - - In secret votes the Danaans aided Ulysses; - And Ajax, deprived of golden arms, struggled with death. - Surely, wounds of another kind they wrought - In the warm flesh of their foes, waging war - With the man-defending spear. - - -THE VALUE OF FRIENDS - -NEMEA VIII, 68-75 - - Virtue increases, being sustained by wise men and just, - As when a tree shoots up with gentle dews into the liquid air. - There are various uses of friendly men; - But chiefest in labors; and even pleasure - Requires to place some pledge before the eyes. - - -DEATH OF AMPHIARAUS - -NEMEA IX, 41-66 - - Once they led to seven-gated Thebes an army of men, not according - To the lucky flight of birds. Nor did the Kronian, - Brandishing his lightning, impel to march - From home insane, but to abstain from the way. - But to apparent destruction - The host made haste to go, with brazen arms - And horse equipments, and on the banks - Of Ismenus, defending sweet return, - Their white-flowered bodies fattened fire. - For seven pyres devoured young-limbed - Men. But to Amphiaraus - Zeus rent the deep-bosomed earth - With his mighty thunderbolt, - And buried him with his horses, - Ere, being struck in the back - By the spear of Periclymenus, his warlike - Spirit was disgraced. - For in daemonic fears - Flee even the sons of gods. - - -CASTOR AND POLLUX - -NEMEA X, 153-171 - -Pollux, son of Zeus, shared his immortality with his brother Castor, -son of Tyndarus, and while one was in heaven, the other remained in -the infernal regions, and they alternately lived and died every day, -or, as some say, every six months. While Castor lies mortally wounded -by Idas, Pollux prays to Zeus, either to restore his brother to life, -or permit him to die with him, to which the god answers,-- - - Nevertheless, I give thee - Thy choice of these: if, indeed, fleeing - Death and odious age, - You wish to dwell on Olympus, - With Athene and black-speared Mars, - Thou hast this lot; - But if thou thinkest to fight - For thy brother, and share - All things with him, - Half the time thou mayest breathe, being beneath the earth, - And half in the golden halls of heaven. - The god thus having spoken, he did not - Entertain a double wish in his mind. - And he released first the eye, and then the voice, - Of brazen-mitred Castor. - - -TOIL - -ISTHMIA I, 65-71 - - One reward of labors is sweet to one man, one to another,-- - To the shepherd, and the plower, and the bird-catcher, - And whom the sea nourishes. - But every one is tasked to ward off - Grievous famine from the stomach. - - -THE VENALITY OF THE MUSE - -ISTHMIA II, 9-18 - - Then the Muse was not - Fond of gain, nor a laboring woman; - Nor were the sweet-sounding, - Soothing strains - Of Terpsichore sold, - With silvered front. - But now she directs to observe the saying - Of the Argive, coming very near the truth, - Who cried, "Money, money, man," - Being bereft of property and friends. - - -HERCULES' PRAYER CONCERNING AJAX, SON OF TELAMON - -ISTHMIA VI, 62-73 - - "If ever, O Father Zeus, thou hast heard - My supplication with willing mind, - Now I beseech thee, with prophetic - Prayer, grant a bold son from Eriboea - To this man, my fated guest; - Rugged in body - As the hide of this wild beast - Which now surrounds me, which, first of all - My contests, I slew once in Nemea; and let his mind agree." - To him thus having spoken, Heaven sent - A great eagle, king of birds, - And sweet joy thrilled him inwardly. - - -THE FREEDOM OF GREECE - - First at Artemisium - The children of the Athenians laid the shining - Foundation of freedom, - And at Salamis and Mycale, - And in Plataea, making it firm - As adamant. - - -FROM STRABO[7] - -APOLLO - - Having risen he went - Over land and sea, - And stood over the vast summits of mountains, - And threaded the recesses, penetrating to the foundations of - the groves. - - -FROM PLUTARCH - - Heaven being willing, even on an osier thou mayest sail. -[Thus rhymed by the old translator of Plutarch: - - "Were it the will of heaven, an osier bough - Were vessel safe enough the seas to plough."] - - -FROM SEXTUS EMPIRICUS - - Honors and crowns of the tempest-footed - Horses delight one; - Others live in golden chambers; - And some even are pleased traversing securely - The swelling of the sea in a swift ship. - - -FROM STOBAEUS - - This I will say to thee: - The lot of fair and pleasant things - It behooves to show in public to all the people; - But if any adverse calamity sent from heaven befall - Men, this it becomes to bury in darkness. - - * * * * * - -Pindar said of the physiologists, that they "plucked the unripe fruit -of wisdom." - - * * * * * - -Pindar said that "hopes were the dreams of those awake." - - -FROM CLEMENS OF ALEXANDRIA - - To Heaven it is possible from black - Night to make arise unspotted light, - And with cloud-blackening darkness to obscure - The pure splendor of day. - - First, indeed, the Fates brought the wise-counseling - Uranian Themis, with golden horses, - By the fountains of Ocean to the awful ascent - Of Olympus, along the shining way, - To be the first spouse of Zeus the Deliverer. - And she bore the golden-filleted, fair-wristed - Hours, preservers of good things. - - Equally tremble before God - And a man dear to God. - - -FROM AELIUS ARISTIDES - -Pindar used such exaggerations [in praise of poetry] as to say that -even the gods themselves, when at his marriage Zeus asked if they -wanted anything, "asked him to make certain gods for them who should -celebrate these great works and all his creation with speech and -song." - -FOOTNOTE: - -[7] [This and the following are fragments of Pindar found in ancient -authors.] - - - - -POEMS - - -NATURE - - O Nature! I do not aspire - To be the highest in thy quire,-- - To be a meteor in the sky, - Or comet that may range on high; - Only a zephyr that may blow - Among the reeds by the river low; - Give me thy most privy place - Where to run my airy race. - - In some withdrawn, unpublic mead - Let me sigh upon a reed, - Or in the woods, with leafy din, - Whisper the still evening in: - Some still work give me to do,-- - Only--be it near to you! - - For I'd rather be thy child - And pupil, in the forest wild, - Than be the king of men elsewhere, - And most sovereign slave of care: - To have one moment of thy dawn, - Than share the city's year forlorn. - - -INSPIRATION[8] - - Whate'er we leave to God, God does, - And blesses us; - The work we choose should be our own, - God leaves alone. - - * * * * * - - If with light head erect I sing, - Though all the Muses lend their force, - From my poor love of anything, - The verse is weak and shallow as its source. - - But if with bended neck I grope, - Listening behind me for my wit, - With faith superior to hope, - More anxious to keep back than forward it, - - Making my soul accomplice there - Unto the flame my heart hath lit, - Then will the verse forever wear,-- - Time cannot bend the line which God hath writ. - - Always the general show of things - Floats in review before my mind, - And such true love and reverence brings, - That sometimes I forget that I am blind. - - But now there comes unsought, unseen, - Some clear divine electuary, - And I, who had but sensual been, - Grow sensible, and as God is, am wary. - - I hearing get, who had but ears, - And sight, who had but eyes before; - I moments live, who lived but years, - And truth discern, who knew but learning's lore. - - I hear beyond the range of sound, - I see beyond the range of sight, - New earths and skies and seas around, - And in my day the sun doth pale his light. - - A clear and ancient harmony - Pierces my soul through all its din, - As through its utmost melody,-- - Farther behind than they, farther within. - - More swift its bolt than lightning is. - Its voice than thunder is more loud, - It doth expand my privacies - To all, and leave me single in the crowd. - - It speaks with such authority, - With so serene and lofty tone, - That idle Time runs gadding by, - And leaves me with Eternity alone. - - Then chiefly is my natal hour, - And only then my prime of life; - Of manhood's strength it is the flower, - 'T is peace's end, and war's beginning strife. - - 'T hath come in summer's broadest noon, - By a gray wall or some chance place, - Unseasoned time, insulted June, - And vexed the day with its presuming face. - - Such fragrance round my couch it makes, - More rich than are Arabian drugs, - That my soul scents its life and wakes - The body up beneath its perfumed rugs. - - Such is the Muse, the heavenly maid, - The star that guides our mortal course, - Which shows where life's true kernel's laid, - Its wheat's fine flour, and its undying force. - - She with one breath attunes the spheres, - And also my poor human heart, - With one impulse propels the years - Around, and gives my throbbing pulse its start. - - I will not doubt for evermore, - Nor falter from a steadfast faith, - For though the system be turned o'er, - God takes not back the word which once he saith. - - I will, then, trust the love untold - Which not my worth nor want has bought, - Which wooed me young, and wooes me old, - And to this evening hath me brought. - - My memory I'll educate - To know the one historic truth, - Remembering to the latest date - The only true and sole immortal youth. - - Be but thy inspiration given, - No matter through what danger sought, - I'll fathom hell or climb to heaven, - And yet esteem that cheap which love has bought. - - * * * * * - - Fame cannot tempt the bard - Who's famous with his God, - Nor laurel him reward - Who hath his Maker's nod. - - -THE AURORA OF GUIDO[9] - -A FRAGMENT - - The god of day his car rolls up the slopes, - Reining his prancing steeds with steady hand; - The lingering moon through western shadows gropes, - While morning sheds its light o'er sea and land. - - Castles and cities by the sounding main - Resound with all the busy din of life; - The fisherman unfurls his sails again; - And the recruited warrior bides the strife. - - The early breeze ruffles the poplar leaves; - The curling waves reflect the unseen light; - The slumbering sea with the day's impulse heaves, - While o'er the western hill retires the drowsy night. - - The seabirds dip their bills in Ocean's foam, - Far circling out over the frothy waves,-- - - * * * * * - - -TO THE MAIDEN IN THE EAST[10] - - Low in the eastern sky - Is set thy glancing eye; - And though its gracious light - Ne'er riseth to my sight, - Yet every star that climbs - Above the gnarled limbs - Of yonder hill, - Conveys thy gentle will. - - Believe I knew thy thought, - And that the zephyrs brought - Thy kindest wishes through, - As mine they bear to you; - That some attentive cloud - Did pause amid the crowd - Over my head, - While gentle things were said. - - Believe the thrushes sung, - And that the flower-bells rung, - That herbs exhaled their scent, - And beasts knew what was meant, - The trees a welcome waved, - And lakes their margins laved, - When thy free mind - To my retreat did wind. - - It was a summer eve, - The air did gently heave - While yet a low-hung cloud - Thy eastern skies did shroud; - The lightning's silent gleam, - Startling my drowsy dream, - Seemed like the flash - Under thy dark eyelash. - - From yonder comes the sun, - But soon his course is run, - Rising to trivial day - Along his dusty way; - But thy noontide completes - Only auroral heats, - Nor ever sets, - To hasten vain regrets. - - Direct thy pensive eye - Into the western sky; - And when the evening star - Does glimmer from afar - Upon the mountain line, - Accept it for a sign - That I am near, - And thinking of thee here. - - I'll be thy Mercury, - Thou Cytherea to me, - Distinguished by thy face - The earth shall learn my place; - As near beneath thy light - Will I outwear the night, - With mingled ray - Leading the westward way. - - Still will I strive to be - As if thou wert with me; - Whatever path I take, - It shall be for thy sake, - Of gentle slope and wide, - As thou wert by my side, - Without a root - To trip thy gentle foot. - - I'll walk with gentle pace, - And choose the smoothest place, - And careful dip the oar, - And shun the winding shore, - And gently steer my boat - Where water-lilies float, - And cardinal-flowers - Stand in their sylvan bowers. - - -TO MY BROTHER - - Brother, where dost thou dwell? - What sun shines for thee now? - Dost thou indeed fare well, - As we wished thee here below? - - What season didst thou find? - 'Twas winter here. - Are not the Fates more kind - Than they appear? - - Is thy brow clear again - As in thy youthful years? - And was that ugly pain - The summit of thy fears? - - Yet thou wast cheery still; - They could not quench thy fire; - Thou didst abide their will, - And then retire. - - Where chiefly shall I look - To feel thy presence near? - Along the neighboring brook - May I thy voice still hear? - - Dost thou still haunt the brink - Of yonder river's tide? - And may I ever think - That thou art by my side? - - What bird wilt thou employ - To bring me word of thee? - For it would give them joy-- - 'T would give them liberty-- - To serve their former lord - With wing and minstrelsy. - - A sadder strain mixed with their song, - They've slowlier built their nests; - Since thou art gone - Their lively labor rests. - - Where is the finch, the thrush, - I used to hear? - Ah, they could well abide - The dying year. - - Now they no more return, - I hear them not; - They have remained to mourn, - Or else forgot. - - -GREECE[11] - - When life contracts into a vulgar span, - And human nature tires to be a man, - I thank the gods for Greece, - That permanent realm of peace. - For as the rising moon far in the night - Checkers the shade with her forerunning light, - So in my darkest hour my senses seem - To catch from her Acropolis a gleam. - - Greece, who am I that should remember thee, - Thy Marathon and thy Thermopylae? - Is my life vulgar, my fate mean, - Which on such golden memories can lean? - - -THE FUNERAL BELL - - One more is gone - Out of the busy throng - That tread these paths; - The church-bell tolls, - Its sad knell rolls - To many hearths. - - Flower-bells toll not, - Their echoes roll not - Upon my ear; - There still, perchance, - That gentle spirit haunts - A fragrant bier. - - Low lies the pall, - Lowly the mourners all - Their passage grope; - No sable hue - Mars the serene blue - Of heaven's cope. - - In distant dell - Faint sounds the funeral bell; - A heavenly chime; - Some poet there - Weaves the light-burthened air - Into sweet rhyme. - - -THE MOON - - Time wears her not; she doth his chariot guide; - Mortality below her orb is placed. - - RALEIGH. - - The full-orbed moon with unchanged ray - Mounts up the eastern sky, - Not doomed to these short nights for aye, - But shining steadily. - - She does not wane, but my fortune, - Which her rays do not bless; - My wayward path declineth soon, - But she shines not the less. - - And if she faintly glimmers here, - And paled is her light, - Yet alway in her proper sphere - She's mistress of the night. - - -THE FALL OF THE LEAF[12] - - Thank God who seasons thus the year, - And sometimes kindly slants his rays; - For in his winter he's most near - And plainest seen upon the shortest days. - - Who gently tempers now his heats. - And then his harsher cold, lest we - Should surfeit on the summer's sweets, - Or pine upon the winter's crudity. - - A sober mind will walk alone, - Apart from nature, if need be, - And only its own seasons own: - For nature leaving its humanity. - - Sometimes a late autumnal thought - Has crossed my mind in green July, - And to its early freshness brought - Late ripened fruits, and an autumnal sky. - - The evening of the year draws on, - The fields a later aspect wear; - Since Summer's garishness is gone, - Some grains of night tincture the noontide air. - - Behold! the shadows of the trees - Now circle wider 'bout their stem, - Like sentries that by slow degrees - Perform their rounds, gently protecting them. - - And as the year doth decline, - The sun allows a scantier light; - Behind each needle of the pine - There lurks a small auxiliar to the night. - - I hear the cricket's slumbrous lay - Around, beneath me, and on high; - It rocks the night, it soothes the day, - And everywhere is Nature's lullaby. - - But most he chirps beneath the sod, - When he has made his winter bed; - His creak grown fainter but more broad, - A film of autumn o'er the summer spread. - - Small birds, in fleets migrating by, - Now beat across some meadow's bay, - And as they tack and veer on high, - With faint and hurried click beguile the way. - - Far in the woods, these golden days, - Some leaf obeys its Maker's call; - And through their hollow aisles it plays - With delicate touch the prelude of the Fall. - - Gently withdrawing from its stem, - It lightly lays itself along - Where the same hand hath pillowed them, - Resigned to sleep upon the old year's throng. - - The loneliest birch is brown and sere, - The farthest pool is strewn with leaves, - Which float upon their watery bier, - Where is no eye that sees, no heart that grieves. - - The jay screams through the chestnut wood; - The crisped and yellow leaves around - Are hue and texture of my mood, - And these rough burs my heirlooms on the ground. - - The threadbare trees, so poor and thin, - They are no wealthier than I; - But with as brave a core within - They rear their boughs to the October sky. - - Poor knights they are which bravely wait - The charge of Winter's cavalry, - Keeping a simple Roman state, - Discumbered of their Persian luxury. - - -THE THAW - - I saw the civil sun drying earth's tears, - Her tears of joy that only faster flowed.[13] - - Fain would I stretch me by the highway-side - To thaw and trickle with the melting snow; - That mingled, soul and body, with the tide, - I too may through the pores of nature flow. - - -A WINTER SCENE[14] - - The rabbit leaps, - The mouse out-creeps, - The flag out-peeps - Beside the brook; - The ferret weeps, - The marmot sleeps, - The owlet keeps - In his snug nook. - - The apples thaw, - The ravens caw, - The squirrels gnaw - The frozen fruit. - To their retreat - I track the feet - Of mice that eat - The apple's root. - - The snow-dust falls, - The otter crawls, - The partridge calls, - Far in the wood. - The traveler dreams, - The tree-ice gleams, - The blue jay screams - In angry mood. - - The willows droop, - The alders stoop, - The pheasants group - Beneath the snow. - The catkins green - Cast o'er the scene - A summer's sheen, - A genial glow. - - -TO A STRAY FOWL - - Poor bird! destined to lead thy life - Far in the adventurous west, - And here to be debarred to-night - From thy accustomed nest; - Must thou fall back upon old instinct now, - Well-nigh extinct under man's fickle care? - Did heaven bestow its quenchless inner light, - So long ago, for thy small want to-night? - Why stand'st upon thy toes to crow so late? - The moon is deaf to thy low feathered fate; - Or dost thou think so to possess the night, - And people the drear dark with thy brave sprite? - And now with anxious eye thou look'st about, - While the relentless shade draws on its veil, - For some sure shelter from approaching dews, - And the insidious steps of nightly foes. - I fear imprisonment has dulled thy wit, - Or ingrained servitude extinguished it. - But no; dim memory of the days of yore, - By Brahmapootra and the Jumna's shore, - Where thy proud race flew swiftly o'er the heath, - And sought its food the jungle's shade beneath, - Has taught thy wings to seek yon friendly trees, - As erst by Indus' banks and far Ganges. - - -POVERTY - -A FRAGMENT - - If I am poor, - It is that I am proud; - If God has made me naked and a boor, - He did not think it fit his work to shroud. - - The poor man comes direct from heaven to earth, - As stars drop down the sky, and tropic beams; - The rich receives in our gross air his birth, - As from low suns are slanted golden gleams. - - Yon sun is naked, bare of satellite, - Unless our earth and moon that office hold; - Though his perpetual day feareth no night, - And his perennial summer dreads no cold. - - Mankind may delve, but cannot my wealth spend; - If I no partial wealth appropriate, - No armed ships unto the Indies send, - None robs me of my Orient estate. - - -PILGRIMS - - "Have you not seen, - In ancient times, - Pilgrims pass by - Toward other climes, - With shining faces, - Youthful and strong, - Mounting this hill - With speech and with song?" - - "Ah, my good sir, - I know not those ways; - Little my knowledge, - Tho' many my days. - When I have slumbered, - I have heard sounds - As of travelers passing - These my grounds. - - "'T was a sweet music - Wafted them by, - I could not tell - If afar off or nigh. - Unless I dreamed it, - This was of yore: - I never told it - To mortal before, - Never remembered - But in my dreams - What to me waking - A miracle seems." - - -THE DEPARTURE - - In this roadstead I have ridden, - In this covert I have hidden; - Friendly thoughts were cliffs to me, - And I hid beneath their lee. - - This true people took the stranger, - And warm-hearted housed the ranger; - They received their roving guest, - And have fed him with the best; - - Whatsoe'er the land afforded - To the stranger's wish accorded; - Shook the olive, stripped the vine, - And expressed the strengthening wine. - - And by night they did spread o'er him - What by day they spread before him;-- - That good-will which was repast - Was his covering at last. - - The stranger moored him to their pier - Without anxiety or fear; - By day he walked the sloping land, - By night the gentle heavens he scanned. - - When first his bark stood inland - To the coast of that far Finland, - Sweet-watered brooks came tumbling to the shore - The weary mariner to restore. - - And still he stayed from day to day - If he their kindness might repay; - But more and more - The sullen waves came rolling toward the shore. - - And still the more the stranger waited, - The less his argosy was freighted, - And still the more he stayed, - The less his debt was paid. - - So he unfurled his shrouded mast - To receive the fragrant blast; - And that sane refreshing gale - Which had wooed him to remain - Again and again, - It was that filled his sail - And drove him to the main. - - All day the low-hung clouds - Dropt tears into the sea; - And the wind amid the shrouds - Sighed plaintively. - - -INDEPENDENCE[15] - - My life more civil is and free - Than any civil polity. - - Ye princes, keep your realms - And circumscribed power, - Not wide as are my dreams, - Nor rich as is this hour. - - What can ye give which I have not? - What can ye take which I have got? - Can ye defend the dangerless? - Can ye inherit nakedness? - - To all true wants Time's ear is deaf, - Penurious states lend no relief - Out of their pelf: - But a free soul--thank God-- - Can help itself. - - Be sure your fate - Doth keep apart its state, - Not linked with any band, - Even the noblest of the land; - - In tented fields with cloth of gold - No place doth hold, - But is more chivalrous than they are, - And sigheth for a nobler war; - A finer strain its trumpet sings, - A brighter gleam its armor flings. - - The life that I aspire to live - No man proposeth me; - No trade upon the street[16] - Wears its emblazonry. - - -DING DONG[17] - - When the world grows old by the chimney-side - Then forth to the youngling nooks I glide, - Where over the water and over the land - The bells are booming on either hand. - - Now up they go ding, then down again dong, - And awhile they ring to the same old song, - For the metal goes round at a single bound, - A-cutting the fields with its measured sound, - While the tired tongue falls with a lengthened boom - As solemn and loud as the crack of doom. - - Then changed is their measure to tone upon tone, - And seldom it is that one sound comes alone, - For they ring out their peals in a mingled throng, - And the breezes waft the loud ding-dong along. - - When the echo hath reached me in this lone vale, - I am straightway a hero in coat of mail, - I tug at my belt and I march on my post, - And feel myself more than a match for a host. - - -OMNIPRESENCE - - Who equaleth the coward's haste, - And still inspires the faintest heart; - Whose lofty fame is not disgraced, - Though it assume the lowest part. - - -INSPIRATION - - If thou wilt but stand by my ear, - When through the field thy anthem's rung, - When that is done I will not fear - But the same power will abet my tongue. - - -MISSION - - I've searched my faculties around, - To learn why life to me was lent: - I will attend the faintest sound, - And then declare to man what God hath meant. - - -DELAY - - No generous action can delay - Or thwart our higher, steadier aims; - But if sincere and true are they, - It will arouse our sight, and nerve our frames. - - -PRAYER - - Great God! I ask thee for no meaner pelf - Than that I may not disappoint myself; - That in my action I may soar as high - As I can now discern with this clear eye; - - And next in value, which thy kindness lends, - That I may greatly disappoint my friends, - Howe'er they think or hope it that may be, - They may not dream how thou 'st distinguished me; - - That my weak hand may equal my firm faith, - And my life practice more than my tongue saith; - That my low conduct may not show, - Nor my relenting lines, - That I thy purpose did not know, - Or overrated thy designs. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[8] [Eighteen lines of this poem appear in _Week_, pp. 181, 182, 351, -372.] - -[9] ["Suggested by the print of Guido's 'Aurora' sent by Mrs. Carlyle -as a wedding gift to Mrs. Emerson." (Note in _Poems of Nature_.)] - -[10] [Five stanzas of this poem appear in _Week_, pp. 46, 47.] - -[11] [The last four lines appear in _Week_, p. 54.] - -[12] ["The first four of these stanzas (unnamed by Thoreau) were -published in the Boston _Commonwealth_ in 1863, under the title of -'The Soul's Season,' the remainder as 'The Fall of the Leaf.' There -can be little doubt that they are parts of one complete poem." (Note -in _Poems of Nature_.)] - -[13] [See p. 120.] - -[14] ["These stanzas formed part of the original manuscript of the -essay on 'A Winter Walk,' but were excluded by Emerson." (Note in -_Poems of Nature_.)] - -[15] ["First printed in full in the Boston _Commonwealth_, October 30, -1863. The last fourteen lines had appeared in _The Dial_ under the -title of 'The Black Knight,' and are so reprinted in the Riverside -Edition." (Note in _Poems of Nature_.)] - -[16] [In _The Dial_ this line reads, "Only the promise of my heart."] - -[17] ["A copy of this hitherto unpublished poem has been kindly -furnished by Miss A. J. Ward." (Note in _Poems of Nature_.)] - - - - -A LIST OF THE POEMS AND BITS OF VERSE SCATTERED AMONG THOREAU'S PROSE -WRITINGS EXCLUSIVE OF THE JOURNAL - - * * * * * - -A WEEK ON THE CONCORD AND MERRIMACK RIVERS - - "The respectable folks" PAGE 7 - - "Ah, 't is in vain the peaceful din" 15 - - "But since we sailed" 16 - - "Here then an aged shepherd dwelt" 16 - - "On Ponkawtasset, since we took our way" 16 - - "Who sleeps by day and walks by night" 41 - - "An early unconverted Saint" 42 - - "Low in the eastern sky" (TO THE MAIDEN IN THE EAST) 46 - - "Dong, sounds the brass in the East" 50 - - "Greece, who am I that should remember thee" 54 - - "Some tumultuous little rill" 62 - - "I make ye an offer" 69 - - "Conscience is instinct bred in the house" (CONSCIENCE) 75 - - "Such water do the gods distill" 86 - - "That Phaeton of our day" 103 - - "Then spend an age in whetting thy desire" 111 - - "Though all the fates should prove unkind" 151 - - "With frontier strength ye stand your ground" (MOUNTAINS) 170 - - "The western wind came lumbering in" 180 - - "Then idle Time ran gadding by" 181 - - "Now chiefly is my natal hour" 182 - - RUMORS FROM AN AEOLIAN HARP 184 - - "Away! away! away! away!" 186 - - "Ply the oars! away! away!" (RIVER SONG, part) 188 - - "Since that first 'Away! away!'" (RIVER SONG, part) 200 - - "Low-anchored cloud" (MIST) 201 - - "Man's little acts are grand" 224 - - "Our uninquiring corpses lie more low" 227 - - "The waves slowly beat" 229 - - "Woof of the sun, ethereal gauze" (HAZE) 229 - - "Where gleaming fields of haze" 234 - - TRANSLATIONS FROM ANACREON 240 - - "Thus, perchance, the Indian hunter" (BOAT SONG) 247 - - "My life is like a stroll upon the beach" (THE FISHER'S BOY) 255 - - "This is my Carnac, whose unmeasured dome" 267 - - "True kindness is a pure divine affinity" 275 - - "Lately, alas, I knew a gentle boy" (SYMPATHY) 276 - - THE ATLANTIDES 278 - - "My love must be as free" (FREE LOVE) 297 - - "The Good how can we trust?" 298 - - "Nature doth have her dawn each day" 302 - - "Let such pure hate still underprop" (FRIENDSHIP) 305 - - "Men are by birth equal in this, that given" 311 - - The Inward Morning 313 - - "My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read" (THE SUMMER RAIN) 320 - - "My life has been the poem I would have writ" 365 - - THE POET'S DELAY 366 - - "I hearing get, who had but ears" 372 - - "Men dig and dive but cannot my wealth spend" 373 - - "Salmon Brook" 375 - - "Oft, as I turn me on my pillow o'er" 384 - - "I am the autumnal sun" (NATURE'S CHILD) 404 - - "A finer race and finer fed" 407 - - "I am a parcel of vain strivings tied" (SIC VITA) 410 - - "All things are current found" 415 - - -WALDEN - - "Men say they know many things" 46 - - "What's the railroad to me?" 135 - - "It is no dream of mine" 215 - - "Light-winged Smoke, Icarian bird" (SMOKE) 279 - - -THE MAINE WOODS - - "Die and be buried who will" 88 - - -EXCURSIONS - - "Within the circuit of this plodding life" (WINTER MEMORIES) 103 - - "We pronounce thee happy, Cicada" (from Anacreon) 108 - - "His steady sails he never furls" 109 - - RETURN OF SPRING (from Anacreon) 109 - - "Each summer sound" 112 - - "Sometimes I hear the veery's clarion" 112 - - "Upon the lofty elm tree sprays" (THE VIREO) 112 - - "Thou dusky spirit of the wood" (THE CROW) 113 - - "I see the civil sun drying earth's tears" (THE THAW, part) 120 - - "The river swelleth more and more" (A RIVER SCENE) 120 - - "The needles of the pine" 133 - - "With frontier strength ye stand your ground" (MOUNTAINS) 133 - - "Not unconcerned Wachusett rears his head" 144 - - "The sluggish smoke curls up from some deep dell" (SMOKE - IN WINTER) 165 - - "When Winter fringes every bough" (STANZAS WRITTEN AT - WALDEN) 176 - - THE OLD MARLBOROUGH ROAD 214 - - "In two years' time 't had thus" 303 - - - - -INDEX - - - Achilles, The Youth of, translation, 385. - - Acre, an, as long measure, 60. - - Acton (Mass.), 136. - - Aeschylus, The Prometheus Bound of, translation, 337-375. - - Aesculapius, translation, 380. - - Agriculture, the task of Americans, 229-231. - - Ajax, The Treatment of, translation, 387. - - Alphonse, Jean, and Falls of Montmorenci, 38, 39; - quoted, 91. - - America, superiorities of, 220-224. - - American, money in Quebec, 24; - the, and government, 82, 83. - - Amphiaraus, The Death of, translation, 387. - - Anacreon, quoted, 108, 109, 110. - - Andropogons, or beard-grasses, 225-258. - - Ange Gardien Parish, 42; - church of, 46. - - Angler's Souvenir, the, 119. - - Apollo, translation, 383. - - Apple, history of the tree, 290-298; - the wild, 299, 300; - the crab-, 301, 302; - growth of the wild, 302-308; - cropped by cattle, 303-307; - the fruit and flavor of the, 308-314; - beauty of the, 314, 315; - naming of the, 315-317; - last gleaning of the, 317-319; - the frozen-thawed, 319, 320; - dying out of the wild, 321, 322. - - Apple-howling, 298. - - Arpent, the, 60. - - Ashburnham (Mass.), 3; - with a better house than any in Canada, 100. - - Ash trees, 6. - - Assabet, the, 136. - - Audubon, John James, reading, 103; 109, note; 112, note. - - Aurora of Guido, The, verse, 399. - - Autumn foliage, brightness of, 249-252. - - AUTUMNAL TINTS, 249-289. - - - Bartram, William, quoted, 199. - - Bathing feet in brooks, 140. - - Beard-grasses, andropogons or, 255-258. - - Beauport (Que.), and _le Chemin de_, 30; - getting lodgings in, 35-38; - church in, 69; - Seigniory of, 96. - - Beaupre, Seigniory of the Cote de, 41. - - "Behold, how spring appearing," verse, 109. - - Bellows Falls (Vt.), 5. - - Birch, yellow, 6. - - Birds and mountains, 149. - - Bittern, booming of the, 111. - - Black Knight, The, verse, 415, note. - - Blueberries, and milk, supper of, 144. - - Bluebird, the, 110. - - Bobolink, the, 113. - - Bodaeus, quoted, 317. - - Bolton (Mass.), 137. - - Bonsecours Market (Montreal), 11. - - Books on natural history, reading, 103-105. - - Boots, Canadian, 51. - - Boston (Mass.), 3, 7, 9. - - Boucher, quoted, 91. - - Boucherville (Que.), 20. - - Bouchette, Topographical Description of the Canadas, quoted, 41, - 42, 63, 64, 89, 92, 94, 95. - - Bout de l'Isle, 20. - - Brand's Popular Antiquities quoted, 297, 298. - - Bravery of science, the, 106, 107. - - "Brother, where dost thou dwell?" verse, 403. - - Burlington (Vt.), 7, 99. - - Burton, Sir Richard Francis, 228. - - Butternut tree, 6. - - - Cabs, Montreal, 18; - Quebec, 69, 70. - - Caddis-worms, 170. - - Caen, Emery de, quoted, 52. - - Caleche, the (see Cabs), 69, 70. - - Canada, apparently older than the United States, 80, 81; - population of, 81, 82; - the French in, a nation of peasants, 82. - - _Canadense_, _Iter_, and the word, 101. - - Canadian, French, 9; - horses, 34; - women, 34; - atmosphere, 34; - love of neighborhood, 42, 43; - houses, 44, 59; - clothes, 45; - salutations, 47; - vegetables and trees, 47, 48; - boots, 51; - tenures, 63, 64. - - Cane, a straight and a twisted, 184, 185. - - Cap aux Oyes, 93. - - Cape Diamond, 22, 40; - signal-gun on, 85; - the view from, 88. - - Cape Rosier, 92. - - Cape Rouge, 21, 95. - - Cape Tourmente, 41, 89, 96. - - Cartier, Jacques, 7, and the St. Lawrence, 89-91; - quoted, 97, 98, 99. - - Castor and Pollux, translation, 388. - - Cattle-show, men at, 184. - - Cemetery of fallen leaves, 269, 270. - - Chaleurs, the Bay of, 90. - - Chalmers, Dr., in criticism of Coleridge, 324. - - Chambly (Que.), 11. - - Champlain, Samuel, quoted, 8; - whales in map of, 91. - - Charlevoix, quoted, 52, 91. - - Chateau Richer, church of, 46, 49; - lodgings at, 59. - - Chaucer, quoted, 159, 160. - - Chaudiere River, the, 21; - Falls of the, 69, 70. - - Cheap men, 29, 30. - - Cherry-stones, transported by birds, 188. - - Chickadee, the, 108. - - Chien, La Riviere au, 56. - - Churches, Catholic and Protestant, 12-14; - roadside, 46. - - _Claire Fontaine, La_, 26. - - Clothes, bad-weather, 28; - Canadian, 45. - - Colors, names and joy of, 273-275. - - Concord (Mass.), 3, 6, 8; - History of, quoted, 115, 133, 149, 152. - - Concord River, the, 115, 139. - - Connecticut River, 5, 145, 147. - - _Coureurs de bois_, and _de risques_, 43. - - Crickets, the creaking of, 108. - - Crookneck squash seeds, Quebec, 87. - - Crosses, roadside, 45, 46. - - Crow, the, 108; - not imported from Europe, 113. - - Crystalline botany, 126, 127. - - Culm, bloom in the, 253. - - - Darby, William, quoted, 93, 94. - - Delay, verse, 418. - - Departure, The, verse, 414. - - Ding Dong, verse, 417. - - Dogs in harness, 30. - - Drake, Sir Francis, quoted, 325. - - Dubartas, quoted, translation of Sylvester, 328, 329. - - Ducks, 110. - - - "Each summer sound," verse, 112. - - East Main, Labrador and, health in the words, 104. - - Easterbrooks Country, the, 299, 303. - - Edda, the Prose, quoted, 291. - - Eggs, a master in cooking, 61, 62. - - Elm, the, 263, 264, 276. - - Elysium, translation, 375. - - Emerson, George B., quoted, 200. - - English and French in the New World, 66, 67. - - Entomology, the study of, 107, 108. - - Evelyn, John, quoted, 310, 311. - - _Ex Oriente Lux; ex Occidente Frux_, 221. - - Experiences, the paucity of men's, 241, 242. - - Eyes, the sight of different men's 285-288. - - - Fall of the Leaf, The, verse, 407. - - Fallen Leaves, 264-270. - - Falls, a drug of, 58. - - Fame, translation, 378. - - Fish, spearing, 119, 121-123. - - Fisher, the pickerel, 180, 181. - - Fishes, described in Massachusetts Report, 118. - - Fitchburg (Mass.), 3. - - Fitzwilliam (N. H.), 4. - - Foreign country, quickly in a, 31. - - Forests, nations preserved by, 229. - - Fortifications, ancient and modern, 77, 78. - - Fox, the, 117. - - French, difficulties in talking, 35-37, 47; - strange, 50; - pure, 52; - in the New World, English and, 66-68; - in Canada, 81, 82; - the, spoken in Quebec streets, 86, 87. - - Friends, The Value of, translation, 387. - - Froissart, good place to read, 23. - - Frost-smoke, 166. - - Funeral Bell, The, verse, 405. - - Fur Countries, inspiring neighborhood of the, 105. - - - Garget, poke or, 253-255. - - Geese, first flock of, 110. - - Gesner, Konrad von, quoted, 318. - - Gosse, P. A., Canadian Naturalist, 91. - - Great Brook, 137. - - Great Fields, the, 257. - - "Great God! I ask thee for no meaner pelf," verse, 418. - - Great River, the, or St. Lawrence, 89, 90, 91, 92. - - Greece, verse, 404. - - Greece, The Freedom of, translation, 390. - - Green Mountains, the, 6, 100, 145, 147. - - Grey, the traveler, quoted, 94. - - Grippling for apples, 309. - - Gulls, 110. - - Guyot, Arnold, 93; - quoted, 93, 94, 220, 221. - - - Harvard (Mass.), 151, 152. - - "Have you not seen," verse, 413. - - Hawk, fish, 110. - - Head, Sir Francis, quoted, 47, 221, 222. - - Height of Glory, The, translation,384. - - Hercules, names the Hill of Kronos, translation, 377. - - Hercules' Prayer concerning Ajax, son of Telamon, translation, - 390. - - Herrick, Robert, 298. - - Hickory, the, 264, 265. - - Highlanders in Quebec, 25-27, 28, 29, 79. - - "His steady sails he never furls," verse, 109. - - Hoar-frost, 126, 127. - - Hochelaga, 89, 97, 99. - - Homer, quoted, 181. - - Hoosac Mountains, 147. - - Hop, culture of the, 136, 137. - - Horses, Canadian, 34. - - _Hortus siccus_, nature in winter a, 179. - - House, the perfect, 153. - - Houses, Canadian, 44, 59; - American compared with Canadian, 100. - - Humboldt, Alexander von, 92, 93. - - Hunt House, the old, 201. - - Hypseus' Daughter Cyrene, translation, 383. - - - "I saw the civil sun drying earth's tears," verse, 409. - - "I see the civil sun drying earth's tears," verse, 120. - - Ice, the booming of, 176. - - Ice formations in a river-bank, 128, 129. - - "If I am poor," verse, 412. - - "If thou wilt but stand by my ear," verse, 418. - - "If with light head erect I sing," verse, 396. - - Ignorance, Society for the Diffusion of Useful, 239. - - Imitations of Charette drivers, Yankee, 99. - - "In this roadstead I have ridden," verse, 414. - - "In two years' time 't had thus," verse, 303. - - Independence, verse, 415. - - Indoors, living, 207-209. - - Inn, inscription on wall of Swedish, 141. - - Inspiration, quatrain, 418. - - Inspiration, verse, 396. - - Invertebrate Animals, Report on, quoted, 129. - - "I've searched my faculties around," verse, 418. - - - Jay, the, 108, 199. - - Jesuit Relations, quoted, 96. - - Jesuits' Barracks, the, in Quebec, 24. - - Joel, the prophet, quoted, 322. - - Jonson, Ben, quoted, 226. - - Josselyn, John, quoted, 2. - - - Kalm, Swedish traveler, quoted, 21, 30, 39, 65; - on sea-plants near Quebec, 93. - - Keene (N. H.) Street, 4; - heads like, 4. - - Kent, the Duke of, property of, 38. - - Killington Peak, 6. - - Knowledge, the slow growth of, 181; - Society for the Diffusion of Useful, 239; - true, 240. - - - Labrador and East Main, health in the words, 104. - - Lake, a woodland, in winter, 174, 175. - - Lake Champlain, 6-8. - - Lake St. Peter, 96, 97. - - Lalement, Hierosme, quoted, 22. - - Lancaster (Mass.), 138, 139, 149. - - LANDLORD, THE, 153-162. - - Landlord, qualities of the, 153-162. - - La Prairie (Que.), 11, 18, 99. - - Lark, the, 109, 110. - - Lead, rain of, 26. - - Leaves, fallen, 264-270; - scarlet oak, 278-281. - - Lincoln (Mass.), 282, 283. - - Linnaeus, quoted, 222. - - Longueuil (Que.), 20. - - Loudon, John Claudius, quoted, 197, 200, 291, 292, 310. - - "Low in the eastern sky," verse, 400. - - - McCulloch's Geographical Dictionary, quoted, 49. - - McTaggart, John, quoted, 94. - - MacTavish, Simon, 98. - - Man, translation, 383. - - Man, The Divine in, translation, 386. - - Map, drawing, on kitchen table, 60; - of Canada, inspecting a, 95. - - Maple, the red and sugar, 6; - the red, 258-263, 265; - the sugar, 261, 271-278. - - Maranon, the river, 93. - - Marlborough (Mass.), 214. - - Merrimack River, the, 147. - - Michaux, Andre, quoted, 269. - - Michaux, Francois Andre, quoted, 220, 261, 301. - - Midnight, exploring the, 323. - - Miller, a crabbed, 69. - - Milne, Alexander, quoted, 193, 194. - - Mississippi, discovery of the, 90; - extent of the, 93; - a panorama of the, 224. - - Mission, verse, 418. - - Monadnock, 4, 143, 145, 147. - - Montcalm, Wolfe and, monument to, 73, 74. - - Montmorenci County, 62; - the habitans of, 64-68. - - Montmorenci, Falls of, 29, 37-39. - - Montreal (Que.), 9, 11; - described, 14-16; - the mixed population of, 17, 18; - from Quebec to, 96, 97; - and its surroundings, beautiful view of, 98; - the name of, 98. - - Moon, The, verse, 406. - - MOONLIGHT, NIGHT AND, 323-333. - - Moonlight, reading by, 145. - - Moonshine, 324, 325. - - Moore, Thomas, 98. - - Morning, winter, early, 163-166. - - Morton, Thomas, 2. - - Mount Royal (Montreal), 11. - - Mountains, the use of, 148, 149; - and plain, influence of the, 150, 151. - - Muse, The Venality of the, translation, 389. - - Musketaquid, Prairie, or Concord River, 115. - - Muskrat, the, 114-117. - - Mussel, the, 129. - - "My life more civil is and free," verse, 415. - - - Names, poetry in, 20; - of places, French, 56, 57; - men's, 236, 237; - of colors, 273, 274. - - NATURAL HISTORY OF MASSACHUSETTS, 103-131. - - Natural history, reading books of, 103, 105. - - Nature, health to be found in, 105; - man's work the most natural, compared with that of, 119; - the hand of, upon her children, 124, 125; - different methods of work, 125; - the civilized look of, 141; - the winter purity of, 167; - a _hortus siccus_ in, 179; - men's relation to, 241, 242. - - Nature, verse, 395. - - Nawshawtuct Hill, 384. - - New things to be seen near home, 211, 212. - - Niebuhr, Barthold Georg, quoted, 290. - - Niepce, Joseph Nicephore, quoted, 238. - - NIGHT AND MOONLIGHT, 323-333. - - Night, on Wachusett, 146; - the senses in the, 327, 328. - - "No generous action can delay," verse, 418. - - Nobscot Hill, 303, 304. - - Norumbega, 90. - - "Not unconcerned Wachusett rears his head," verse, 144. - - Notre Dame (Montreal), 11; - a visit to, 12-14. - - Notre Dame des Anges, Seigniory of, 96. - - Nurse-plants, 193. - - Nuthatch, the, 108. - - Nuttall, Thomas, quoted, 111, 112. - - - Oak, succeeding pine, and _vice versa_, 185, 187, 189; - the scarlet, 278-281; - leaves, scarlet, 278-280. - - Ogilby, America of 1670, quoted, 91. - - Old Marlborough Road, The, verse, 214. - - Olympia at Evening, translation, 378. - - Omnipresence, verse, 417. - - "O Nature! I do not aspire," verse, 395. - - "One more is gone," verse, 405. - - Origin of Rhodes, translation, 376. - - Orinoco, the river, 93. - - Orleans, Isle of, 41, 42. - - Orsinora, 90. - - Ortelius, _Theatrum Orbis Terrarum_, 89. - - Ossian, quoted, 332. - - Ottawa River, the, 41, 94, 98. - - _Oui_, the repeated, 60. - - - Palladius, quoted, 294, 308. - - Patent office, seeds sent by the, 203. - - Peleus and Cadmus, translation, 381. - - Penobscot Indians, use of muskrat-skins by, 116, 117. - - Perch, the, 123. - - Phoebe, the, 112. - - Pickerel-fisher, the, 180, 181. - - Pies, no, in Quebec, 86. - - Pilgrims, verse, 413. - - _Pinbena_, the, 48. - - Pindar, Translations from, 375. - - Pine, oak succeeding, and _vice versa_, 185, 187, 189; - family, a, 243, 244. - - Pine cone, stripped by squirrels, 196. - - Plain and mountain, life of the, 151. - - Plants on Cape Diamond, Quebec, 27. - - Plicipennes, 170. - - Pliny, the Elder, quoted, 292. - - Plover, the, 112. - - Plum, beach, 201. - - POEMS, 393-419. - - Point Levi, by ferry to, 70; - a night at, 71; 89. - - Pointe aux Trembles, 20, 21. - - Poke, or garget, the, 253-255. - - _Pommettes_, 39. - - "Poor bird! destined to lead thy life," verse, 411. - - Potherie, quoted, 52. - - Poverty, verse, 412. - - Prairie River, Musketaquid or, 115. - - Prayer, verse, 418. - - Prometheus Bound of Aeschylus, The, translation, 337. - - Purana, the, quoted, 327. - - Purple Grasses, The, 252-258. - - - Quail, a white, 109, note. - - Quebec (Que.), 3, 20, 21; - approach to, 22; - harbor and population of, 22; - mediaevalism of, 23, 26; - the citadel, 27-30, 76-80; - fine view of, 49; - reentering, through St. John's Gate, 69; - lights in the lower town, 71; - landing again at, 72; - walk round the Upper Town, 72-76; - the walls and gates, 74, 75; - artillery barracks, 75; - mounted guns, 76; - restaurants, 85, 86; - scenery of, 87-89; - origin of word, 88; - departure from, 95. - - - Rainbow in Falls of the Chaudiere, 70, 71. - - Raleigh, Sir Walter, quoted, 329. - - Reports on the natural history of Massachusetts, 103, 114, 118, - 123, 129, 130. - - Return of Spring, verse, 109. - - Rhexia, 252. - - Richelieu, Isles of, 96. - - Richelieu or St. John's River, 8. - - Richelieu Rapids, the, 21. - - Richter, Jean Paul, quoted, 330, 331. - - River, the flow of a, 178. - - River-bank, ice formations in a, 128, 129. - - Riviere du Sud, the, 92. - - Riviere more meandering than River, 56. - - Roberval, Sieur de, 95, 96. - - Robin, the, 109; - a white, 109, note. - - Robin Hood Ballads, quoted, 150, 207. - - Rowlandson, Mrs., 149. - - - St. Anne, the Falls of, 40; - Church of _La Bonne_, 49; - lodgings in village of, 49-51; - interior of the church of _La Bonne_, 51, 52; - Falls of, described, 52-55. - - St. Charles River, the, 30. - - St. Helen's Island (Montreal), 11. - - St. John's (Que.), 9, 10. - - St. John's River, 8. - - St. Lawrence River, 11; - cottages along the, 21; - banks of the, above Quebec, 40, 41; - breadth of, 49; - or Great River, 89-95; - old maps of, 89, 90, 92; - compared with other rivers, 90, 92-95. - - St. Maurice River, 94. - - Saguenay River, 91, 94. - - Salutations, Canadian, 47. - - Sault a la Puce, Riviere du, 48, 58. - - Sault Norman, 11. - - Sault St. Louis, 11. - - Saunter, derivation of the word, 205, 206. - - Scarlet Oak, The, 278-285. - - Schoolhouse, a Canadian, 46. - - Science, the bravery of, 106, 107. - - Scotchman dissatisfied with Canada, a, 75. - - Scriptures, Hebrew, inadequacy of regarding winter, 183. - - Sea-plants near Quebec, 93. - - Seeds, the transportation of, by wind, 186, 187; - by birds, 187-189; - by squirrels, 190-200; - the vitality of, 200-203. - - Seeing, individual, 285-288. - - Selenites, 323. - - Sign language, 61. - - Sillery (Que.), 22. - - Silliman, Benjamin, quoted, 98. - - Skating, 177, 178. - - Smoke, winter morning, 165; - seen from a hilltop, 173, 174. - - Snake, the, 123, 124. - - Snipe-shooting grounds, 48. - - Snow, 181, 182; - not recognized in Hebrew Scriptures, 183. - - Snowbird, the, 109. - - Society, health not to be found in, 105. - - Soldiers, English, in Canada, 9, 10, 16, 17; - in Quebec, 24-27, 79, 80. - - Solomon, quoted, 291. - - "Sometimes I hear the veery's clarion," verse, 112. - - Sounds, winter morning, 163, 164. - - Sorel River, 8. - - Sparrow, the song, 109. - - Spaulding's farm, 243. - - Spearing fish, 121-123. - - Speech, country, 137. - - Spring, on the Concord River, 119-121. - - Squash, the large yellow, 203. - - Squirrel, a red, burying nuts, 190, 191; - with nuts under snow, 195; - pine cones stripped by the, 196; - with filled cheek-pouches, 198. - - Stars, the, 328, 329. - - Stillriver Village (Mass.), 151. - - Stillwater, the, 140, 142. - - Stow (Mass.), 136. - - SUCCESSION OF FOREST TREES, THE, 184-204. - - Sudbury (Mass.), 303. - - Sugar Maple, The, 271-278. - - Sunset, a remarkable, 246-248. - - - Tamias, the steward squirrel, 198. - - Tavern, the gods' interest in the, 153; - compared with the church, the, 161, 162. - - Tenures, Canadian, 63. - - "Thank God, who seasons thus the year," verse, 407. - - Thaw, The, verse, 409. - - "The full-orbed moon with unchanged ray," verse, 406. - - "The god of day his car rolls up the slopes," verse, 399. - - "The needles of the pine," verse, 133. - - "The rabbit leaps," verse, 410. - - "The river swelleth more and more," verse, 120. - - "The sluggish smoke curls up from some deep dell," verse, 165. - - Theophrastus, 292. - - Thomson, James, quoted, 249. - - Thoreau, Henry David, leaves Concord for Canada, 25th September, - 1850, 3; - traveling outfit of, 31-34; - leaves Quebec for Montreal on return trip, 95; - leaves Montreal for Boston, 99; - total expense of Canada excursion, 100, 101; - walk from Concord to Wachusett and back, 133-152; - observation of a red squirrel, 190, 191; - experience with government squash-seed, 203. - - "Thou dusky spirit of the wood," verse, 113. - - Three Rivers (Que.), 21, 93. - - Three-o'clock courage, 208, 209. - - To a Stray Fowl, verse, 411. - - To Aristoclides, Victor at the Nemean Games, translation, 384. - - To Asopichus, or Orchomenos, on his Victory in the Stadic Course, - translation, 378. - - To My Brother, verse, 403. - - To the Maiden in the East, verse, 400. - - To the Lyre, translation, 379. - - Toil, translation, 389. - - TRANSLATIONS, 337-392. - - Translations from Pindar, 375-392. - - Trappers, 115. - - Traverse, the, 92. - - Traveling outfit, the best, 31-34. - - Trees, Canadian, 48; - the suggestions of, 125; - the natural planting of, 186-202; - a town's need of, 272-278; - for seasons, 276. - - Tree-tops, things seen and found on, 245, 246. - - Troy (N. H.), 4. - - Turtle, the snapping, 124. - - - "Upon the lofty elm tree sprays," verse, 112. - - - Val Cartier (Que.), 89. - - Varennes, the church of, 97, 98. - - Veery, the, 112. - - Vegetation, the type of all growth, 128. - - Vergennes (Vt.), 7. - - Village, a continuous, 42, 43; - the, 213; - trees in a, 275-278. - - Virgil, reading, 138, 143, 144. - - - Wachusett, a view of, 138; - range, the, 139; - ascent of, 142; - birds or vegetation on summit of, 143; - night on, 145, 146; - an observatory, 147. - - Walls, Quebec and other, 74. - - WALK TO WACHUSETT, A, 133-152. - - Walkers, the order of, 206, 207. - - WALKING, 205-248. - - Walks, not on beaten paths, 213, 214; - the direction of, 216-219; - adventurous, 285; - by night, 326. - - Watatic, 137, 147. - - "We pronounce thee happy, Cicada," verse, 108. - - West, walking towards the, 217-220; - general tendency towards the, 219-224. - - Westmoreland, etymology of, 6. - - Whales in the St. Lawrence, 91. - - "Whate'er we leave to God, God does," verse, 396. - - "When life contracts into a vulgar span," verse, 404. - - "When the world grows old by the chimney-side," verse, 417. - - "When winter fringes every bough," verse, 176. - - "Where they once dug for money," verse, 214. - - Whitney, Peter, quoted, 312. - - "Who equaleth the coward's haste," verse, 417. - - "Whoa," the crying of, to mankind, 235. - - WILD APPLES, 290-322. - - Wildness, the necessity of, 224-236; - in literature, 230-233; - in domestic animals, 234-236. - - Willow, golden, leaves, 266. - - Winter Scene, A, verse, 410. - - WINTER WALK, A, 163-183. - - Winter, warmth in, 167, 168; - the woods in, 168, 169; - nature a _hortus siccus_ in, 179; - as represented in the almanac, 182; - ignored in Hebrew revelation, 183; - evening, 183. - - "With frontier strength ye stand your ground," verse, 133. - - "Within the circuit of this plodding life," verse, 103. - - Wolfe and Montcalm, monument to, 73. - - Wolfe's Cove, 22. - - Women, Canadian, 34. - - Woodbine, 3, 4, 276. - - Woodchopper, winter to be represented as a, 182. - - Woodman, hut and work of a, 172, 173. - - Woods in winter, the, 168, 169. - - Wordsworth, reading, 143, 144. - - - YANKEE IN CANADA, A, 1-101. - - "Yorrick," the, 112, note. - - - - - The Riverside Press - H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY - CAMBRIDGE - MASSACHUSETTS - - - - - * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber's note: - - Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have - been preserved. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. - - Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. - - On page 370, tryant's drudge should possibly be tyrant's drudge. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EXCURSIONS AND POEMS*** - - -******* This file should be named 42553.txt or 42553.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/2/5/5/42553 - - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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