CONCORD, August 8, 1854.
MR. BLAKE,--Methinks I have spent a rather unprofitable summer thus
far. I have been too much with the world, as the poet might say.[51]
The completest performance of the highest duties it imposes would
yield me but little satisfaction. Better the neglect of all such,
because your life passed on a level where it was impossible to
recognize them. Latterly, I have heard the very flies buzz too
distinctly, and have accused myself because I did not still this
superficial din. We must not be too easily distracted by the crying of
children or of dynasties. The Irishman erects his sty, and gets drunk,
and jabbers more and more under my eaves, and I am responsible for all
that filth and folly. I find it, as ever, very unprofitable to have
much to do with men. It is sowing the wind, but not reaping even the
whirlwind; only reaping an unprofitable calm and stagnation. Our
conversation is a smooth, and civil, and never-ending speculation
merely. I take up the thread of it again in the morning, with very
much such courage as the invalid takes his prescribed Seidlitz
powders. Shall I help you to some of the mackerel? It would be more
respectable if men, as has been said before, instead of being such
pigmy desperates, were Giant Despairs. Emerson says that his life is
so unprofitable and shabby for the most part, that he is driven to all
sorts of resources, and, among the rest, to men. I tell him that we
differ only in our resources. Mine is to get away from men. They very
rarely affect me as grand or beautiful; but I know that there is a
sunrise and a sunset every day. In the summer, this world is a mere
watering-place,--a Saratoga,--drinking so many tumblers of Congress
water; and in the winter, is it any better, with its oratorios? I have
seen more men than usual, lately; and, well as I was acquainted with
one, I am surprised to find what vulgar fellows they are. They do a
little business commonly each day, in order to pay their board, and
then they congregate in sitting-rooms and feebly fabulate and paddle
in the social slush; and when I think that they have sufficiently
relaxed, and am prepared to see them steal away to their shrines, they
go unashamed to their beds, and take on a new layer of sloth. They may
be single, or have families in their _faineancy_. I do not meet men
who can have nothing to do with me because they have so much to do
with themselves. However, I trust that a very few cherish purposes
which they never declare. Only think, for a moment, of a man about his
affairs! How we should respect him! How glorious he would appear! Not
working for any corporation, its agent, or president, but fulfilling
the end of his being! A man about _his business_ would be the cynosure
of all eyes.
The other evening I was determined that I would silence this shallow
din; that I would walk in various directions and see if there was not
to be found any depth of silence around. As Bonaparte sent out his
horsemen in the Red Sea on all sides to find shallow water, so I sent
forth my mounted thoughts to find deep water. I left the village and
paddled up the river to Fair Haven Pond. As the sun went down, I saw
a solitary boatman disporting on the smooth lake. The falling dews
seemed to strain and purify the air, and I was smoothed with an
infinite stillness. I got the world, as it were, by the nape of the
neck, and held it under in the tide of its own events, till it was
drowned, and then I let it go down-stream like a dead dog. Vast hollow
chambers of silence stretched away on every side, and my being
expanded in proportion, and filled them. Then first could I appreciate
sound, and find it musical.[52]
But now for your news. Tell us of the year. Have you fought the good
fight? What is the state of your crops? Will your harvest answer well
to the seed-time, and are you cheered by the prospect of stretching
cornfields? Is there any blight on your fields, any murrain in your
herds? Have you tried the size and quality of your potatoes? It does
one good to see their balls dangling in the lowlands. Have you got
your meadow hay before the fall rains shall have set in? Is there
enough in your barns to keep your cattle over? Are you killing weeds
nowadays? or have you earned leisure to go a-fishing? Did you plant
any Giant Regrets last spring, such as I saw advertised? It is not a
new species, but the result of cultivation and a fertile soil. They
are excellent for sauce. How is it with your marrow squashes for
winter use? Is there likely to be a sufficiency of fall feed in your
neighborhood? What is the state of the springs? I read that in your
county there is more water on the hills than in the valleys. Do you
find it easy to get all the help you require? Work early and late, and
let your men and teams rest at noon. Be careful not to drink too much
sweetened water, while at your hoeing, this hot weather. You can bear
the heat much better for it.