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diff --git a/9247-h/9247-h.htm b/9247-h/9247-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3460534 --- /dev/null +++ b/9247-h/9247-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,994 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg E-text of Fragments from The Journal of a Solitary + Man, by Nathaniel Hawthorne + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fragments from The Journal of a Solitary Man, by +Nathaniel Hawthorne + +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: Fragments from The Journal of a Solitary Man + +Author: Nathaniel Hawthorne + + +Release Date: November, 2005 [EBook #9247] +First Posted: September 25, 2003 +Last Updated: December 15, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOURNAL OF A SOLITARY MAN *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger and Al Haines + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h4> + THE DOLIVER ROMANCE AND OTHER PIECES<br /> + </h4> + <h4> + TALES AND SKETCHES<br /> + </h4> + <h3> + By Nathaniel Hawthorne<br /> + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + FRAGMENTS FROM THE JOURNAL OF A SOLITARY MAN<br /> + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + I. + </h3> + <p> + My poor friend “Oberon”—[See the sketch or story entitled “The Devil + in Manuscript,” in “The Snow-Image, and other Twice-Told Tales.”]—for + let me be allowed to distinguish him by so quaint a name—sleeps with + the silent ages. He died calmly. Though his disease was pulmonary, his + life did not flicker out like a wasted lamp, sometimes shooting up into a + strange temporary brightness; but the tide of being ebbed away, and the + noon of his existence waned till, in the simple phraseology of Scripture, + “he was not.” The last words he said to me were, “Burn my papers,—all + that you can find in yonder escritoire; for I fear there are some there + which you may be betrayed into publishing. I have published enough; as for + the old disconnected journal in your possession—” But here my poor + friend was checked in his utterance by that same hollow cough which would + never let him alone. So he coughed himself tired, and sank to slumber. I + watched from that midnight hour till high noon on the morrow for his + waking. The chamber was dark; till, longing for light, I opened the + window-shutter, and the broad day looked in on the marble features of the + dead. + </p> + <p> + I religiously obeyed his instructions with regard to the papers in the + escritoire, and burned them in a heap without looking into one, though + sorely tempted. But the old journal I kept. Perhaps in strict conscience I + ought also to have burned that; but casting my eye over some half-torn + leaves the other day, I could not resist an impulse to give some fragments + of it to the public. To do this satisfactorily, I am obliged to twist this + thread, so as to string together into a semblance of order my Oberon’s + “random pearls.” + </p> + <p> + If anybody that holds any commerce with his fellowmen can be called + solitary, Oberon was a “solitary man.” He lived in a small village at some + distance from the metropolis, and never came up to the city except once in + three months for the purpose of looking into a bookstore, and of spending + two hours and a half with me. In that space of time I would tell him all + that I could remember of interest which had occurred in the interim of his + visits. He would join very heartily in the conversation; but as soon as + the time of his usual tarrying had elapsed, he would take up his hat and + depart. He was unequivocally the most original person I ever knew. His + style of composition was very charming. No tales that have ever appeared + in our popular journals have been so generally admired as his. But a + sadness was on his spirit; and this, added to the shrinking sensitiveness + of his nature, rendered him not misanthropic, but singularly averse to + social intercourse. Of the disease, which was slowly sapping the springs + of his life, he first became fully conscious after one of those long + abstractions in which he was wont to indulge. It is remarkable, however, + that his first idea of this sort, instead of deepening his spirit with a + more melancholy hue, restored him to a more natural state of mind. + </p> + <p> + He had evidently cherished a secret hope that some impulse would at length + be given him, or that he would muster sufficient energy of will to return + into the world, and act a wiser and happier part than his former one. But + life never called the dreamer forth; it was Death that whispered him. It + is to be regretted that this portion of his old journal contains so few + passages relative to this interesting period; since the little which he + has recorded, though melancholy enough, breathes the gentleness of a + spirit newly restored to communion with its kind. If there be anything + bitter in the following reflections, its source is in human sympathy, and + its sole object is himself. + </p> + <p> + “It is hard to die without one’s happiness; to none more so than myself, + whose early resolution it had been to partake largely of the joys of life, + but never to be burdened with its cares. Vain philosophy! The very + hardships of the poorest laborer, whose whole existence seems one long + toil, has something preferable to my best pleasures. + </p> + <p> + “Merely skimming the surface of life, I know nothing, by my own + experience, of its deep and warm realities. I have achieved none of those + objects which the instinct of mankind especially prompts them to pursue, + and the accomplishment of which must therefore beget a native + satisfaction. The truly wise, after all their speculations, will be led + into the common path, and, in homage to the human nature that pervades + them, will gather gold, and till the earth, and set out trees, and build a + house. But I have scorned such wisdom. I have rejected, also, the settled, + sober, careful gladness of a man by his own fireside, with those around + him whose welfare is committed to his trust and all their guidance to his + fond authority. Without influence among serious affairs, my footsteps were + not imprinted on the earth, but lost in air; and I shall leave no son to + inherit my share of life, with a better sense of its privileges and + duties, when his father should vanish like a bubble; so that few mortals, + even the humblest and the weakest, have been such ineffectual shadows in + the world, or die so utterly as I must. Even a young man’s bliss has not + been mine. With a thousand vagrant fantasies, I have never truly loved, + and perhaps shall be doomed to loneliness throughout the eternal future, + because, here on earth, my soul has never married itself to the soul of + woman. + </p> + <p> + “Such are the repinings of one who feels, too late, that the sympathies of + his nature have avenged themselves upon him. They have prostrated, with a + joyless life and the prospect of a reluctant death, my selfish purpose to + keep aloof from mortal disquietudes, and be a pleasant idler among + care-stricken and laborious men. I have other regrets, too, savoring more + of my old spirit. The time has been when I meant to visit every region of + the earth, except the poles and Central Africa. I had a strange longing to + see the Pyramids. To Persia and Arabia, and all the gorgeous East, I owed + a pilgrimage for the sake of their magic tales. And England, the land of + my ancestors! Once I had fancied that my sleep would not be quiet in the + grave unless I should return, as it were, to my home of past ages, and see + the very cities, and castles, and battle-fields of history, and stand + within the holy gloom of its cathedrals, and kneel at the shrines of its + immortal poets, there asserting myself their hereditary countryman. This + feeling lay among the deepest in my heart. Yet, with this homesickness for + the father-land, and all these plans of remote travel,—which I yet + believe that my peculiar instinct impelled me to form, and upbraided me + for not accomplishing,—the utmost limit of my wanderings has been + little more than six hundred miles from my native village. Thus, in + whatever way I consider my life, or what must be termed such, I cannot + feel as if I had lived at all. + </p> + <p> + “I am possessed, also, with the thought that I have never yet discovered + the real secret of my powers; that there has been a mighty treasure within + my reach, a mine of gold beneath my feet, worthless because I have never + known how to seek for it; and for want of perhaps one fortunate idea, I am + to die + </p> + <p class="poem"> + ‘Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.‘<br /> + </p> + <p> + “Once, amid the troubled and tumultuous enjoyment of my life, there was a + dreamy thought that haunted me, the terrible necessity imposed on mortals + to grow old, or die. I could not bear the idea of losing one youthful + grace. True, I saw other men, who had once been young and now were old, + enduring their age with equanimity, because each year reconciled them to + its own added weight. But for myself, I felt that age would be not less + miserable, creeping upon me slowly, than if it fell at once. I sometimes + looked in the glass, and endeavored to fancy my cheeks yellow and + interlaced with furrows, my forehead wrinkled deeply across, the top of my + head bald and polished, my eyebrows and side-locks iron gray, and a grisly + beard sprouting on my chin. Shuddering at the picture, I changed it for + the dead face of a young mail, with dark locks clustering heavily round + its pale beauty, which would decay, indeed, but not with years, nor in the + sight of men. The latter visage shocked me least. + </p> + <p> + “Such a repugnance to the hard conditions of long life is common to all + sensitive and thoughtful men, who minister to the luxury, the refinements, + the gayety and lightsomeness, to anything, in short, but the real + necessities of their fellow-creatures. He who has a part in the serious + business of life, though it be only as a shoemaker, feels himself equally + respectable in youth and in age, and therefore is content to live and look + forward to wrinkles and decrepitude in their due season. It is far + otherwise with the busy idlers of the world. I was particularly liable to + this torment, being a meditative person in spite of my levity. The truth + could not be concealed, nor the contemplation of it avoided. With deep + inquietude I became aware that what was graceful now, and seemed + appropriate enough to my age of flowers, would be ridiculous in middle + life; and that the world, so indulgent to the fantastic youth, would scorn + the bearded than, still telling love-tales, loftily ambitious of a + maiden’s tears, and squeezing out, as it were, with his brawny strength, + the essence of roses. And in his old age the sweet lyrics of Anacreon made + the girls laugh at his white hairs the more. With such sentiments, + conscious that my part in the drama of life was fit only for a youthful + performer, I nourished a regretful desire to be summoned early from the + scene. I set a limit to myself, the age of twenty-five, few years indeed, + but too many to be thrown away. Scarcely had I thus fixed the term of my + mortal pilgrimage, than the thought grew into a presentiment that, when + the space should be completed, the world would have one butterfly the + less, by my far flight. + </p> + <p> + “O, how fond I was of life, even while allotting, as my proper destiny, an + early death! I loved the world, its cities, its villages, its grassy + roadsides, its wild forests, its quiet scenes, its gay, warm, enlivening + bustle; in every aspect, I loved the world so long as I could behold it + with young eyes and dance through it with a young heart. The earth had + been made so beautiful, that I longed for no brighter sphere, but only an + ever-youthful eternity in this. I clung to earth as if my beginning and + ending were to be there, unable to imagine any but an earthly happiness, + and choosing such, with all its imperfections, rather than perfect bliss + which might be alien from it. Alas! I had not wet known that weariness by + which the soul proves itself ethereal.” + </p> + <p> + Turning over the old journal, I open, by chance, upon a passage which + affords a signal instance of the morbid fancies to which Oberon frequently + yielded himself. Dreams like the following were probably engendered by the + deep gloom sometimes thrown over his mind by his reflections on death. + </p> + <p> + “I dreamed that one bright forenoon I was walking through Broadway, and + seeking to cheer myself with the warm and busy life of that far-famed + promenade. Here a coach thundered over the pavement, and there an unwieldy + omnibus, with spruce gigs rattling past, and horsemen prancing through all + the bustle. On the sidewalk people were looking at the rich display of + goods, the plate and jewelry, or the latest caricature ill the + bookseller’s windows; while fair ladies and whiskered gentlemen tripped + gayly along, nodding mutual recognitions, or shrinking from some rough + countryman or sturdy laborer whose contact might have ruffled their + finery. I found myself in this animated scene, with a dim and misty idea + that it was not my proper place, or that I had ventured into the crowd + with some singularity of dress or aspect which made me ridiculous. Walking + in the sunshine, I was yet cold as death. By degrees, too, I perceived + myself the object of universal attention, and, as it seemed, of horror and + affright. Every face grew pale; the laugh was hushed, and the voices died + away in broken syllables; the people in the shops crowded to the doors + with a ghastly stare, and the passengers oil all sides fled as from an + embodied pestilence. The horses reared and snorted. An old beggar-woman + sat before St. Paul’s Church, with her withered palm stretched out to all, + but drew it back from me, and pointed to the graves and monuments in that + populous churchyard. Three lovely girls whom I had formerly known, ran + shrieking across the street. A personage in black, whom I was about to + overtake, suddenly turned his head and showed the features of a long-lost + friend. He gave me a look of horror and was gone. + </p> + <p> + “I passed not one step farther, but threw my eyes on a looking-glass which + stood deep within the nearest shop. At first glimpse of my own figure I + awoke, with a horrible sensation of self-terror and self-loathing. No + wonder that the affrighted city fled! I had been promenading Broadway in + my shroud!” + </p> + <p> + I should be doing injustice to my friend’s memory, were I to publish other + extracts even nearer to insanity than this, front the scarcely legible + papers before me. I gather from them—for I do not remember that he + ever related to me the circumstances—that he once made a journey, + chiefly on foot, to Niagara. Some conduct of the friends among whom he + resided in his native village was constructed by him into oppression. + These were the friends to whose care he had been committed by his parents, + who died when Oberon was about twelve years of age. Though he had always + been treated by them with the most uniform kindness, and though a favorite + among the people of the village rather on account of the sympathy which + they felt in his situation than from any merit of his own, such was the + waywardness of his temper, that on a slight provocation he ran away from + the home that sheltered him, expressing openly his determination to die + sooner than return to the detested spot. A severe illness overtook him + after he had been absent about four months. While ill, he felt how + unsoothing were the kindest looks and tones of strangers. He rose from his + sick-bed a better man, and determined upon a speedy self-atonement by + returning to his native town. There he lived, solitary and sad, but + forgiven and cherished by his friends, till the day he died. That part of + the journal which contained a description of this journey is mostly + destroyed. Here and there is a fragment. I cannot select, for the pages + are very scanty; but I do not withhold the following fragments, because + they indicate a better and more cheerful frame of mind than the foregoing. + </p> + <p> + “On reaching the ferry-house, a rude structure of boards at the foot of + the cliff, I found several of those wretches devoid of poetry, and lost + some of my own poetry by contact with them. The hut was crowded by a party + of provincials,—a simple and merry set, who had spent the afternoon + fishing near the Falls, and were bartering black and white bass and eels + for the ferryman’s whiskey. A greyhound and three spaniels, brutes of much + more grace and decorous demeanor than their masters, sat at the door. A + few yards off, yet wholly unnoticed by the dogs, was a beautiful fox, + whose countenance betokened all the sagacity attributed to him in ancient + fable. He had a comfortable bed of straw in an old barrel, whither he + retreated, flourishing his bushy tail as I made a step towards him, but + soon came forth and surveyed me with a keen and intelligent eye. The + Canadians bartered their fish and drank their whiskey, and were loquacious + on trifling subjects, and merry at simple jests, with as little regard to + the scenery as they could have to the flattest part of the Grand Canal. + Nor was I entitled to despise them; for I amused myself with all those + foolish matters of fishermen, and dogs, and fox, just as if Sublimity and + Beauty were not married at that place and moment; as if their nuptial band + were not the brightest of all rainbows on the opposite shore; as if the + gray precipice were not frowning above my head and Niagara thundering + around me. + </p> + <p> + “The grim ferryman, a black-whiskered giant, half drunk withal, now thrust + the Canadians by main force out of his door, launched a boat, and bade me + sit in the stern-sheets. Where we crossed the river was white with foam, + yet did not offer much resistance to a straight passage, which brought us + close to the outer edge of the American falls. The rainbow vanished as we + neared its misty base, and when I leaped ashore, the sun had left all + Niagara in shadow.” + </p> + <p> + “A sound of merriment, sweet voices and girlish laughter, came dancing + through the solemn roar of waters. In old times, when the French, and + afterwards the English, held garrisons near Niagara, it used to be deemed + a feat worthy of a soldier, a frontier man, or an Indian, to cross the + rapids to Goat Island. As the country became less rude and warlike, a long + space intervened, in which it was but half believed, by a faint and + doubtful tradition, that mortal foot bad never trod this wild spot of + precipice and forest clinging between two cataracts. The island is no + longer a tangled forest, but a grove of stately trees, with grassy + intervals about their roots and woodland paths among their trunks. + </p> + <p> + “There was neither soldier nor Indian here now, but a vision of three + lovely girls, running brief races through the broken sunshine of the + grove, hiding behind the trees, and pelting each other with the cones of + the pine. When their sport had brought them near me, it so happened that + one of the party ran up and shook me by the band,—a greeting which I + heartily returned, and would have done the same had it been tenderer. I + had known this wild little black-eyed lass in my youth and her childhood, + before I had commenced my rambles. + </p> + <p> + “We met on terms of freedom and kindness, which elder ladies might have + thought unsuitable with a gentleman of my description. When I alluded to + the two fair strangers, she shouted after them by their Christian names, + at which summons, with grave dignity, they drew near, and honored me with + a distant courtesy. They were from the upper part of Vermont. Whether + sisters, or cousins, or at all related to each other, I cannot tell; but + they are planted in my memory like ‘two twin roses on one stem,’ with the + fresh dew in both their bosoms; and when I would have pure and pleasant + thoughts, I think of them. Neither of them could have seen seventeen + years. They both were of a height, and that a moderate one. The rose-bloom + of their cheeks could hardly be called bright in her who was the rosiest, + nor faint, though a shade less deep, in her companion. Both had delicate + eyebrows, not strongly defined, yet somewhat darker than their hair; both + had small sweet mouths, maiden mouths, of not so warns and deep a tint as + ruby, but only red as the reddest rose; each had those gems, the rarest, + the most precious, a pair of clear, soft bright blue eyes. Their style of + dress was similar; one had on a black silk gown, with a stomacher of + velvet, and scalloped cuffs of the same from the wrist to the elbow; the + other wore cuffs and stomacher of the like pattern and material, over a + gown of crimson silk. The dress was rather heavy for their slight figures, + but suited to September. They and the darker beauty all carried their + straw bonnets in their hands.” + </p> + <p> + I cannot better conclude these fragments than with poor Oberon’s + description of his return to his native village after his slow recovery + from his illness. How beautifully does he express his penitential + emotions! A beautiful moral may be indeed drawn from the early death of a + sensitive recluse, who had shunned the ordinary avenues of distinction, + and with splendid abilities sank to rest into an early grave, almost + unknown to mankind, and without any record save what my pen hastily leaves + upon these tear-blotted pages. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + II. + </h3> + <h3> + MY HOME RETURN. + </h3> + <p> + When the stage-coach had gained the summit of the hill, I alighted to + perform the small remainder of my journey on foot. There had not been a + more delicious afternoon than this in all the train of summer, the air + being a sunny perfume, made up of balm and warmth, and gentle brightness. + The oak and walnut trees over my head retained their deep masses of + foliage, and the grass, though for months the pasturage of stray cattle, + had been revived with the freshness of early June by the autumnal rains of + the preceding week. The garb of autumn, indeed, resembled that of spring. + Dandelions and butterflies were sprinkled along the roadside like drops of + brightest gold in greenest grass, and a star-shaped little flower of blue, + with a golden centre. In a rocky spot, and rooted under the stone walk, + there was one wild rose-bush bearing three roses very faintly tinted, but + blessed with a spicy fragrance. The same tokens would have announced that + the year was brightening into the glow of summer. There were violets too, + though few and pale ones. But the breath of September was diffused through + the mild air, and became perceptible, too thrillingly for my enfeebled + frame, whenever a little breeze shook out the latent coolness. + </p> + <p> + “I was standing on the hill at the entrance of my native village, whence I + had looked back to bid farewell, and forward to the pale mist-bow that + overarched my path, and was the omen of my fortunes. How I had + misinterpreted that augury, the ghost of hope, with none of hope’s bright + hues! Nor could I deem that all its portents were yet accomplished, though + from the same western sky the declining sun shone brightly in my face. But + I was calm and not depressed. Turning to the village, so dim and + dream-like at my last view, I saw the white houses and brick stores, the + intermingled trees, the footpaths with their wide borders of grass, and + the dusty road between; all a picture of peaceful gladness in the + sunshine. + </p> + <p> + “‘Why have I never loved my home before?’ thought I, as my spirit reposed + itself on the quiet beauty of the scene. + </p> + <p> + “On the side of the opposite hill was the graveyard, sloping towards the + farther extremity of the village. The sun shone as cheerfully there as on + the abodes of the living, and showed all the little hillocks and the + burial-stones, white marble or slate, and here and there a tomb, with the + pleasant grass about them all. A single tree was tinged with glory from + the west, and threw a pensive shade behind. Not far from where it fell was + the tomb of my parents, whom I had hardly thought of in bidding adieu to + the village, but had remembered them more faithfully among the feelings + that drew me homeward. At my departure their tomb had been hidden in the + morning mist. Beholding it in the sunshine now, I felt a sensation through + my frame as if a breeze had thrown the coolness of September over me, + though not a leaf was stirred, nor did the thistle-down take flight. Was I + to roam no more through this beautiful world, but only to the other end of + the village? Then let me lie down near my parents, but not with them, + because I love a green grave better than a tomb. + </p> + <p> + “Moving slowly forward, I heard shouts and laughter, and perceived a + considerable throng of people, who came from behind the meeting-house and + made a stand in front of it. Thither all the idlers in the village were + congregated to witness the exercises of the engine company, this being the + afternoon of their monthly practice. They deluged the roof of the + meeting-house, till the water fell from the eaves in a broad cascade; then + the stream beat against the dusty windows like a thunder-storm; and + sometimes they flung it up beside the steeple, sparkling in an ascending + shower about the weathercock. For variety’s sake the engineer made it + undulate horizontally, like a great serpent flying over the earth. As his + last effort, being roguishly inclined, he seemed to take aim at the sky, + falling short rather of which, down came the fluid, transformed to drops + of silver, on the thickest crowd of the spectators. Then ensued a + prodigious rout and mirthful uproar, with no little wrath of the surly + ones, whom this is an infallible method of distinguishing. The joke + afforded infinite amusement to the ladies at the windows and some old + people under the hay-scales. I also laughed at a distance, and was glad to + find myself susceptible, as of old, to the simple mirth of such a scene. + </p> + <p> + “But the thoughts that it excited were not all mirthful. I had witnessed + hundreds of such spectacles in my youth, and one precisely similar only a + few days before my departure. And now, the aspect of the village being the + same, and the crowd composed of my old acquaintances, I could hardly + realize that years had passed, or even months, or that the very drops of + water were not falling at this moment, which had been flung up then. But I + pressed the conviction home, that, brief as the time appeared, it had been + long enough for me to wander away and return again, with my fate + accomplished, and little more hope in this world. The last throb of an + adventurous and wayward spirit kept me from repining. I felt as if it were + better, or not worse, to have compressed my enjoyments and sufferings into + a few wild years, and then to rest myself in an early grave, than to have + chosen the untroubled and ungladdened course of the crowd before me, whose + days were all alike, and a long lifetime like each day. But the sentiment + startled me. For a moment I doubted whether my dear-bought wisdom were + anything but the incapacity to pursue fresh follies, and whether, if + health and strength could be restored that night, I should be found in the + village after to-morrow’s dawn. + </p> + <p> + “Among other novelties, I had noticed that the tavern was now designated + as a Temperance House, in letters extending across the whole front, with a + smaller sign promising Hot Coffee at all hours, and Spruce Beer to lodgers + gratis. There were few new buildings, except a Methodist chapel and a + printing-office, with a bookstore in the lower story. The golden mortar + still ornamented the apothecary’s door, nor had the Indian Chief, with his + gilded tobacco stalk, been relieved from doing sentinel’s duty before + Dominicus Pike’s grocery. The gorgeous silks, though of later patterns, + were still flaunting like a banner in front of Mr. Nightingale’s dry-goods + store. Some of the signs introduced me to strangers, whose predecessors + had failed, or emigrated to the West, or removed merely to the other end + of the village, transferring their names from the sign-boards to slabs of + marble or slate. But, on the whole, death and vicissitude had done very + little. There were old men, scattered about the street, who had been old + in my earliest reminiscences; and, as if their venerable forms were + permanent parts of the creation, they appeared to be hale and hearty old + men yet. The less elderly were more altered, having generally contracted a + stoop, with hair wofully thinned and whitened. Some I could hardly + recognize; at my last glance they had been boys and girls, but were young + men and women when I looked again; and there were happy little things too, + rolling about on the grass, whom God had made since my departure. + </p> + <p> + “But now, in my lingering course I had descended the bill, and began to + consider, painfully enough, how I should meet my townspeople, and what + reception they would give me. Of many an evil prophecy, doubtless, had I + been the subject. And would they salute me with a roar of triumph or a low + hiss of scorn, on beholding their worst anticipations more than + accomplished? + </p> + <p> + “‘No,’ said I, ‘they will not triumph over me. And should they ask the + cause of my return, I will tell f hem that a man may go far and tarry long + away, if his health be good and his hopes high; but that when flesh and + spirit begin to fail, he remembers his birthplace and the old + burial-ground, and hears a voice calling him to cone home to his father + and mother. They will know, by my wasted frame and feeble step, that I + have heard the summons and obeyed. And, the first greetings over, they + will let me walk among them unnoticed, and linger in the sunshine while I + may, and steal into my grave in peace.’ + </p> + <p> + “With these reflections I looked kindly at the crowd, and drew off my + glove, ready to give my hand to the first that should put forth his. It + occurred to me, also, that some youth among them, now at the crisis of his + fate, might have felt his bosom thrill at my example, and be emulous of my + wild life and worthless fame. But I would save him. + </p> + <p> + “‘He shall be taught,’ said I, ‘by my life, and by my death, that the + world is a sad one for him who shrinks from its sober duties. My + experience shall warn him to adopt some great and serious aim, such as + manhood will cling to, that he may not feel himself, too late, a cumberer + of this overladen earth, but a man among men. I will beseech him not to + follow an eccentric path, nor, by stepping aside from the highway of human + affairs, to relinquish his claim upon human sympathy. And often, as a text + of deep and varied meaning, I will remind him that he is an American.’ + </p> + <p> + “By this time I had drawn near the meeting-house, and perceived that the + crowd were beginning to recognize me.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + These are the last words traced by his hand. Has not so chastened a spirit + found true communion with the pure in Heaven? “Until of late, I never + could believe that I was seriously ill: the past, I thought, could not + extend its misery beyond itself; life was restored to me, and should not + be missed again. I had day-dreams even of wedded happiness. Still, as the + days wear on, a faintness creeps through my frame and spirit, recalling + the consciousness that a very old man might as well nourish hope and young + desire as I at twenty-four. Yet the consciousness of my situation does not + always make me sad. Sometimes I look upon the world with a quiet interest, + because it cannot, concern me personally, and a loving one for the same + reason, because nothing selfish can interfere with the sense of + brotherhood. Soon to be all spirit, I have already a spiritual sense of + human nature, and see deeply into the hearts of mankind, discovering what + is hidden from the wisest. The loves of young men and virgins are known to + me, before the first kiss, before the whispered word, with the birth of + the first sigh. My glance comprehends the crowd, and penetrates the breast + of the solitary man. I think better of the world than formerly, more + generously of its virtues, more mercifully of its faults, with a higher + estimate of its present happiness, and brighter hopes of its destiny. My + mind has put forth a second crop of blossoms, as the trees do in the + Indian summer. No winter will destroy their beauty, for they are fanned by + the breeze and freshened by the shower that breathes and falls in the + gardens of Paradise!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Fragments from The Journal of a +Solitary Man, by Nathaniel Hawthorne + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOURNAL OF A SOLITARY MAN *** + +***** This file should be named 9247-h.htm or 9247-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/9/2/4/9247/ + +Produced by David Widger and Al Haines. + +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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