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H. G. O. Blake (search for this): chapter 4
s of his own career was nothing less than heroic. There is nothing finer in literary history than his description, in his unpublished diary, of receiving from his publisher the unsold copies — nearly the whole edition — of his Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers, and of his carrying the melancholy burden up-stairs on his shoulders to his study. I have now a library, he says, of nearly nine hundred volumes, over seven hundred of which I wrote myself. By the kindness of my friend H. G. O. Blake, Esq., of Worcester, Mass., the custodian of Thoreau's manuscripts, I am enabled to print this entire passage at the end of this chapter. It will always be an interesting question, how far Thoreau's peculiar genius might have been modified or enriched by society or travel. In his diary he expresses gratitude to Providence, or, as he quaintly puts it, to those who have had the handling of me, that his life has been so restricted in these directions, and that he has thus been compell
Note.--The following passage is now first published, from Thoreau's manuscript diary, the date being Oct. 28, 1853:-- For a year or two past, my publisher, Munroe, has been writing from time to time to ask what disposition should be made of the copies of A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers, still on hand, and at lasent to me here; and they have arrived to-day by express, piling the man's wagon, seven hundred and six copies out of an edition of one thousand, which I bought of Munroe four years ago, and have been ever since paying for, and have not quite paid for yet. The wares are sent to me at last, and I have an opportunity to examine my pu in the venture. The unbound were tied up by the printer four years ago in stout paper wrappers, and inscribed, H. D. Thoreau's Concord River, fifty copies. So Munroe had only to cross out River, and write Mass., and deliver them to the expressman at once. I can see now what I write for, and the result of my labors. Neverth
cultivated country it is which chiefly has inspired, and will continue to inspire, the strains of poets such as compose the mass of any literature. Maine Woods, p. 159; written in 1846. Seen in the light of such eminently sensible remarks as these, it will by and by be discovered that Thoreau's whole attitude has been needlessly distorted. Lowell says that his shanty-life was mere impossibility, so far as his own conception of it goes, as an entire independency of mankind. The tub of Diogenes had a sounder bottom. My Study Windows, p. 208. But what a man of straw is this that Lowell is constructing! What is this shanty-life ? A young man living in a country village, and having a passion for the minute observation of nature, and a love for Greek and Oriental reading, takes it into his head to build himself a study, not in the garden or the orchard, but in the woods, by the side of a lake. Happening to be poor, and to live in a time when social experiments are in vogue at Bro
same with that of his critics. For a permanent residence it seemed to me that there could be no comparison between this [Concord] and the wilderness, necessary as the latter is for a resource and a background, the raw material of all our civilization. The wilderness is simple almost to barrenness. The partially cultivated country it is which chiefly has inspired, and will continue to inspire, the strains of poets such as compose the mass of any literature. Maine Woods, p. 159; written in 1846. Seen in the light of such eminently sensible remarks as these, it will by and by be discovered that Thoreau's whole attitude has been needlessly distorted. Lowell says that his shanty-life was mere impossibility, so far as his own conception of it goes, as an entire independency of mankind. The tub of Diogenes had a sounder bottom. My Study Windows, p. 208. But what a man of straw is this that Lowell is constructing! What is this shanty-life ? A young man living in a country villag
October 28th, 1853 AD (search for this): chapter 4
ame, and he has told it plainly. There is nowhere recorded, he complains, a simple and irrepressible satisfaction with the gift of life, any memorable praise of God. ... If the day and the night are such that you greet them with joy, and life emits a fragrance, like flowers and sweet-scented herbs,--is more elastic, starry, and immortal,--that is your success. Walden, pp. 85, 233. Note.--The following passage is now first published, from Thoreau's manuscript diary, the date being Oct. 28, 1853:-- For a year or two past, my publisher, Munroe, has been writing from time to time to ask what disposition should be made of the copies of A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers, still on hand, and at last suggesting that he had use for the room they occupied in his cellar. So I had them all sent to me here; and they have arrived to-day by express, piling the man's wagon, seven hundred and six copies out of an edition of one thousand, which I bought of Munroe four years ago,
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