04-sounds-第1部分

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　　　　But　while　we　are　confined　to　books；　though　the　most　select　and

classic；　and　read　only　particular　written　languages；　which　are

themselves　but　dialects　and　provincial；　we　are　in　danger　of

forgetting　the　language　which　all　things　and　events　speak　without

metaphor；　which　alone　is　copious　and　standard。　　Much　is　published；

but　little　printed。　　The　rays　which　stream　through　the　shutter　will

be　no　longer　remembered　when　the　shutter　is　wholly　removed。　　No

method　nor　discipline　can　supersede　the　necessity　of　being　forever

on　the　alert。　　What　is　a　course　of　history　or　philosophy；　or　poetry；

no　matter　how　well　selected；　or　the　best　society；　or　the　most

admirable　routine　of　life；　compared　with　the　discipline　of　looking

always　at　what　is　to　be　seen？　　Will　you　be　a　reader；　a　student

merely；　or　a　seer？　　Read　your　fate；　see　what　is　before　you；　and　walk

on　into　futurity。

　　　　I　did　not　read　books　the　first　summer；　I　hoed　beans。　　Nay；　I

often　did　better　than　this。　　There　were　times　when　I　could　not

afford　to　sacrifice　the　bloom　of　the　present　moment　to　any　work；

whether　of　the　head　or　hands。　　I　love　a　broad　margin　to　my　life。

Sometimes；　in　a　summer　morning；　having　taken　my　accustomed　bath；　I

sat　in　my　sunny　doorway　from　sunrise　till　noon；　rapt　in　a　revery；

amidst　the　pines　and　hickories　and　sumachs；　in　undisturbed　solitude

and　stillness；　while　the　birds　sing　around　or　flitted　noiseless

through　the　house；　until　by　the　sun　falling　in　at　my　west　window；　or

the　noise　of　some　traveller's　wagon　on　the　distant　highway；　I　was

reminded　of　the　lapse　of　time。　　I　grew　in　those　seasons　like　corn　in

the　night；　and　they　were　far　better　than　any　work　of　the　hands　would

have　been。　　They　were　not　time　subtracted　from　my　life；　but　so　much

over　and　above　my　usual　allowance。　　I　realized　what　the　Orientals

mean　by　contemplation　and　the　forsaking　of　works。　　For　the　most

part；　I　minded　not　how　the　hours　went。　　The　day　advanced　as　if　to

light　some　work　of　mine；　it　was　morning；　and　lo；　now　it　is　evening；

and　nothing　memorable　is　accomplished。　　Instead　of　singing　like　the

birds；　I　silently　smiled　at　my　incessant　good　fortune。　　As　the

sparrow　had　its　trill；　sitting　on　the　hickory　before　my　door；　so　had

I　my　chuckle　or　suppressed　warble　which　he　might　hear　out　of　my

nest。　　My　days　were　not　days　of　the　week；　bearing　the　stamp　of　any

heathen　deity；　nor　were　they　minced　into　hours　and　fretted　by　the

ticking　of　a　clock；　for　I　lived　like　the　Puri　Indians；　of　whom　it　is

said　that　〃for　yesterday；　today；　and　tomorrow　they　have　only　one

word；　and　they　express　the　variety　of　meaning　by　pointing　backward

for　yesterday　forward　for　tomorrow；　and　overhead　for　the　passing

day。〃　　This　was　sheer　idleness　to　my　fellow…townsmen；　no　doubt；　but

if　the　birds　and　flowers　had　tried　me　by　their　standard；　I　should

not　have　been　found　wanting。　　A　man　must　find　his　occasions　in

himself；　it　is　true。　　The　natural　day　is　very　calm；　and　will　hardly

reprove　his　indolence。

　　　　I　had　this　advantage；　at　least；　in　my　mode　of　life；　over　those

who　were　obliged　to　look　abroad　for　amusement；　to　society　and　the

theatre；　that　my　life　itself　was　become　my　amusement　and　never

ceased　to　be　novel。　　It　was　a　drama　of　many　scenes　and　without　an

end。　　If　we　were　always；　indeed；　getting　our　living；　and　regulating

our　lives　according　to　the　last　and　best　mode　we　had　learned；　we

should　never　be　troubled　with　ennui。　　Follow　your　genius　closely

enough；　and　it　will　not　fail　to　show　you　a　fresh　prospect　every

hour。　　Housework　was　a　pleasant　pastime。　　When　my　floor　was　dirty；　I

rose　early；　and；　setting　all　my　furniture　out　of　doors　on　the　grass；

bed　and　bedstead　making　but　one　budget；　dashed　water　on　the　floor；

and　sprinkled　white　sand　from　the　pond　on　it；　and　then　with　a　broom

scrubbed　it　clean　and　white；　and　by　the　time　the　villagers　had

broken　their　fast　the　morning　sun　had　dried　my　house　sufficiently　to

allow　me　to　move　in　again；　and　my　meditations　were　almost

uninterupted。　　It　was　pleasant　to　see　my　whole　household　effects　out

on　the　grass；　making　a　little　pile　like　a　gypsy's　pack；　and　my

three…legged　table；　from　which　I　did　not　remove　the　books　and　pen

and　ink；　standing　amid　the　pines　and　hickories。　　They　seemed　glad　to

get　out　themselves；　and　as　if　unwilling　to　be　brought　in。　　I　was

sometimes　tempted　to　stretch　an　awning　over　them　and　take　my　seat

there。　　It　was　worth　the　while　to　see　the　sun　shine　on　these　things；

and　hear　the　free　wind　blow　on　them；　so　much　more　interesting　most

familiar　objects　look　out　of　doors　than　in　the　house。　　A　bird　sits

on　the　next　bough；　life…everlasting　grows　under　the　table；　and

blackberry　vines　run　round　its　legs；　pine　cones；　chestnut　burs；　and

strawberry　leaves　are　strewn　about。　　It　looked　as　if　this　was　the

way　these　forms　came　to　be　transferred　to　our　furniture；　to　tables；

chairs；　and　bedsteads　　because　they　once　stood　in　their　midst。

　　　　My　house　was　on　the　side　of　a　hill；　immediately　on　the　edge　of

the　larger　wood；　in　the　midst　of　a　young　forest　of　pitch　pines　and

hickories；　and　half　a　dozen　rods　from　the　pond；　to　which　a　narrow

footpath　led　down　the　hill。　　In　my　front　yard　grew　the　strawberry；

blackberry；　and　life…everlasting；　johnswort　and　goldenrod；　shrub

oaks　and　sand　cherry；　blueberry　and　groundnut。　　Near　the　end　of　May；

the　sand　cherry　（Cerasus　pumila）　adorned　the　sides　of　the　path　with

its　delicate　flowers　arranged　in　umbels　cylindrically　about　its

short　stems；　which　last；　in　the　fall；　weighed　down　with　goodsized

and　handsome　cherries；　fell　over　in　wreaths　like　rays　on　every　side。

I　tasted　them　out　of　compliment　to　Nature；　though　they　were　scarcely

palatable。　　The　sumach　（Rhus　glabra）　grew　luxuriantly　about　the

house；　pushing　up　through　the　embankment　which　I　had　made；　and

growing　five　or　six　feet　the　first　season。　　Its　broad　pinnate

tropical　leaf　was　pleasant　though　strange　to　look　on。　　The　large

buds；　suddenly　pushing　out　late　in　the　spring　from　dry　sticks　which

had　seemed　to　be　dead；　developed　themselves　as　by　magic　into

graceful　green　and　tender　boughs；　an　inch　in　diameter；　and

sometimes；　as　I　sat　at　my　window；　so　heedlessly　did　they　grow　and

tax　their　weak　joints；　I　heard　a　fresh　and　tender　bough　suddenly

fall　like　a　fan　to　the　ground；　when　there　was　not　a　breath　of　air

stirring；　broken　off　by　its　own　weight。　　In　August；　the　large　masses

of　berries；　which；　when　in　flower；　had　attracted　many　wild　bees；

gradually　assumed　their　bright　velvety　crimson　hue；　and　by　their

weight　again　bent　down　and　broke　the　tender　limbs。

　　　　As　I　sit　at　my　window　this　summer　afternoon；　hawks　are　circling

about　my　clearing；　the　tantivy　of　wild　pigeons；　flying　by　two　and

threes　athwart　my　view；　or　perching　restless　on　the　white　pine

boughs　behind　my　house；　gives　a　voice　to　the　air；　a　fish　hawk

dimples　the　glassy　surface　of　the　pond　and　brings　up　a　fish；　a　mink

steals　out　of　the　marsh　before　my　door　and　seizes　a　frog　by　the

shore；　the　sedge　is　bending　under　the　weight　of　the　reed…birds

flitting　hither　and　thither；　and　for　the　last　half…hour　I　have　heard

the　rattle　of　railroad　cars；　now　dying　away　and　then　reviving　like

the　beat　of　a　partridge；　conveying　travellers　from　Boston　to　the

country。　　For　I　did　not　live　so　out　of　the　world　as　that　boy　who；　as

I　hear；　was　put　out　to　a　farmer　in　the　east　part　of　the　town；　but

ere　long　ran　away　and　came　home　again；　quite　down　at　the　heel　and

homesick。　　He　had　never　seen　such　a　dull　and　out…of…the…way　place；

the　folks　were　all　gone　off；　why；　you　couldn't　even　hear　the

whistle！　　I　doubt　if　there　is　such　a　place　in　Massachusetts　now：



　　　　　　〃In　truth；　our　village　has　become　a　butt

　　　　　　　For　one　of　those　fleet　railroad　shafts；　and　o'er

　　　　　　　Our　peaceful　plain　its　soothing　sound　is　　Concord。〃



　　　　The　Fitchburg　Railroad　touches　the　pond　about　a　hundred　rods

south　of　where　I　dwell。　　I　usually　go　to　the　village　along　its

causeway；　and　am；　as　it　were；　related　to　society　by　this　link。　　The

men　on　the　freight　trains；　who　go　over　the　whole　length　of　the　road；

bow　to　me　as　to　an　old　acquaintance；　they　pass　me　so　often；　and

apparently　they　take　me　for　an　employee；　and　so　I　am。　　I　too　would

fain　be　a　track…repairer　somewhere　in　the　orbit　of　the　earth。

　　　　The　whistle　of　the　locomotive　penetrates　my　woods　summer　and

winter；　sounding　like　the　scream　of　a　hawk　sailing　over　some

farmer's　yard；　informing　me　that　many　restless　city　merchants　are

arriving　within　the　circle　of　the　town；　or　adventurous　country

traders　from　the　other　side。　　As　they　come　under　one　horizon；　they

shout　their　warning　to　get　off　the　track　to　the　other；　heard

sometimes　through　the　circles　of　two　towns。　　Here　come　your

groceries；　country；　your　rations；　countrymen！　　Nor　is　there　any　man

so　independent　on　his　farm　that　he　can　say　them　nay。　　And　here's

your　pay　for　them！　screams　the　countryman's　whistle；　timber　like

long　battering…rams　going　twenty　miles　an　hour　against　the　city's

walls；　and　chairs　enough　to　seat　all　the　weary　and　heavy…laden　that

dwell　within　them。　　With　such　huge　and　lumbering　civility　the

country　hands　a　chair　to　the　city。　　All　the　Indian　huckleberry　hills

are　stripped；　all　the　cranberry　meadows　are　raked　into　the　city。　　Up

comes　the　cotton；　down　goes　the　woven　cloth；　up　comes　the　silk；　down

goes　the　woollen；　up　come　the　books；　but　down　goes　the　wit　that

writes　them。

　　　　When　I　meet　the　engine　with　its　train　of　cars　moving　off　with

planetary　motion　　or；　rather；　like　a　comet；　for　the　beholder　knows

not　if　with　that　velocity　and　with　that　direction　it　will　ever

revisit　this　system；　since　its　orbit　does　not　look　like　a　returning

curve　　with　its　steam　cloud　like　a　banner　streaming　behind　in

golden　and　silver　wreaths；　like　many　a　downy　cloud　which　I　have

seen；　high　in　the　heavens；　unfolding　its　masses　to　the　light　　as

if　this　traveling　demigod；　this　cloud…compeller；　would　ere　long　take

the　sunset　sky　for