There is no evidence in the Hawthorne documents or publications to show exactly when the first edition of “Mosses from an Old Manse” made its appearance, and copies of it are now exceedingly rare, but we find the Hawthorne family in Salem reading the book in the autumn of 1845, so that it was probably brought out at that time and helped to maintain its author during his last days at Concord. There must have been some magical influence in the Old Manse or in its surrounding scenery, to have stimulated both Emerson’s and Hawthorne’s love of Nature to such a degree. Emerson’s eye dilates as he looks upon the sunshine gilding the trunks of the balm of Gilead trees on his avenue; and Hawthorne dwells with equal delight on the luxuriant squash vines which spread over his vegetable garden. Discoursing on this he says: “Speaking of summer squashes, I must say a word of their beautiful and varied forms. They presented an endless diversity of urns and vases, shallow or deep, scalloped or plain, molded in patterns which a sculptor would do well to copy, since art has never invented anything more graceful.” And again: “A cabbage, too--especially the early Dutch cabbage, which swells to a monstrous circumference, until its ambitious heart often bursts asunder--is a matter to be proud of when we can claim a share with the earth and sky in producing it.” It would seem as if no one before Hawthorne had rightly observed these common vegetables, whose external appearance is always before our eyes. He not only humanizes whatever attracts his attention, but he looks through a refining medium of his own personality. He has the gift of Midas to bring back the Golden Age for us. Who besides Homer has been able to describe a chariot-race, and who but Hawthorne could extract such poetry from a farmer’s garden? If we compare this introductory chapter with such earlier sketches as “The Vision at the Fountain” and “The Toll-Gatherer’s Day,” we recognize the progress that Hawthorne has made since the first volume of “Twice Told Tales.” We are no longer reminded of the plain unpainted house on Lake Sebago. His style is not only more graceful, but has acquired greater fulness of expression, and he is evidently working in a deeper and richer vein of thought. Purity of expression is still his polar star, and his writing is nowhere overloaded, but it has a warmer tone, a deeper perspective, and an atmospheric quality which painters call _chi-aroscuro_. He charms with pleasing fancies, while he penetrates to the soul.