Journal 02, 1850-September 15, 1851: The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, Volume 08 (of 20)Thoreau, Henry David
Religion
Journal 02, 1850-September 15, 1851: The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, Volume 08 (of 20)
Thoreau, Henry David
Authors, American -- 19th century -- Diaries; Thoreau, Henry David, 1817-1862 -- Diaries
To have a hut here, and a footpath to the brook! For roads, I think
that a poet cannot tolerate more than a footpath through the fields;
that is wide enough, and for purposes of winged poesy suffices. It
is not for the muse to speak of cart-paths. I would fain travel by a
footpath round the world.[342] I do not ask the railroads of commerce,
not even the cart-paths of the farmer. Pray, what other path would you
have than a footpath? What else should wear a path? This is the track
of man alone. What more suggestive to the pensive walker?[343] One
walks in a wheel-track with less emotion; he is at a greater distance
from man; but this footpath was, perchance, worn by the bare feet of
human beings, and he cannot but think with interest of them.
The grapes, though their leaves are withering and falling, are yet too
sour to eat.
In the summer we lay up a stock of experiences for the winter, as the
squirrel of nuts,—something for conversation in winter evenings. I love
to think then of the more distant walks I took in summer.[344]
At the powder-mills the carbonic acid gas in the road from the building
where they were making charcoal made us cough for twenty or thirty
rods.
Saw some gray squirrels whirling their cylinder by the roadside. How
fitted that cylinder to this animal! “A squirrel is easily taught to
turn his cylinder” might be a saying frequently applicable. And as
they turned, one leaped over or dodged under another most gracefully
and unexpectedly, with interweaving motions. It was the circus and
menagerie combined. So human they were, exhibiting themselves.
In the Marlborough road, I forgot to say, we brushed the _Polygonum
articulatum_ with its spikes of reddish-white flowers, a slender and
tender plant which loves the middle of dry and sandy not-much-travelled
roads. To find that the very atoms bloom, that there are flowers we
rudely brush against which only the microscope reveals!
It is wise to write on many subjects, to try many themes, that so
you may find the right and inspiring one. Be greedy of occasions
to express your thought. Improve the opportunity to draw analogies.
There are innumerable avenues to a perception of the truth. Improve
the suggestion of each object however humble, however slight and
transient the provocation. What else is there to be improved? Who knows
what opportunities he may neglect? It is not in vain that the mind
turns aside this way or that: follow its leading; apply it whither it
inclines to go. Probe the universe in a myriad points. Be avaricious
of these impulses. You must try a thousand themes before you find the
right one, as nature makes a thousand acorns to get one oak. He is a
wise man and experienced who has taken many views; to whom stones and
plants and animals and a myriad objects have each suggested something,
contributed something.[345]
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