All That Is Told Of Mankind, Of The Inhabitants
Of The Upper Nile, And The Sunderbunds, And Timbuctoo, And The
Orinoko, Was Experience Here.
Every race and class of men was
represented.
According to Belknap, the historian of New Hampshire,
who wrote sixty years ago, here too, perchance, dwelt "new lights,"
and free thinking men even then. "The people in general throughout
the State," it is written, "are professors of the Christian
religion in some form or other. There is, however, a sort of
_wise men_ who pretend to reject it; but they have not yet been
able to substitute a better in its place."
The other voyageur, perhaps, would in the mean while have seen
a brown hawk, or a woodchuck, or a musquash creeping under the
alders.
We occasionally rested in the shade of a maple or a willow, and
drew forth a melon for our refreshment, while we contemplated at
our leisure the lapse of the river and of human life; and as that
current, with its floating twigs and leaves, so did all things
pass in review before us, while far away in cities and marts on
this very stream, the old routine was proceeding still. There
is, indeed, a tide in the affairs of men, as the poet says, and
yet as things flow they circulate, and the ebb always balances
the flow. All streams are but tributary to the ocean, which
itself does not stream, and the shores are unchanged, but in
longer periods than man can measure. Go where we will, we
discover infinite change in particulars only, not in generals.
When I go into a museum and see the mummies wrapped in their
linen bandages, I see that the lives of men began to need reform
as long ago as when they walked the earth. I come out into the
streets, and meet men who declare that the time is near at hand
for the redemption of the race. But as men lived in Thebes, so
do they live in Dunstable to-day. "Time drinketh up the essence
of every great and noble action which ought to be performed, and
is delayed in the execution." So says Veeshnoo Sarma; and we
perceive that the schemers return again and again to common sense
and labor. Such is the evidence of history.
"Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs,
And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the Suns."
There are secret articles in our treaties with the gods, of more
importance than all the rest, which the historian can never know.
There are many skilful apprentices, but few master workmen. On
every hand we observe a truly wise practice, in education, in
morals, and in the arts of life, the embodied wisdom of many an
ancient philosopher. Who does not see that heresies have some
time prevailed, that reforms have already taken place? All this
worldly wisdom might be regarded as the once unamiable heresy of
some wise man. Some interests have got a footing on the earth
which we have not made sufficient allowance for. Even they who
first built these barns and cleared the land thus, had some
valor. The abrupt epochs and chasms are smoothed down in history
as the inequalities of the plain are concealed by distance. But
unless we do more than simply learn the trade of our time, we are
but apprentices, and not yet masters of the art of life.
Now that we are casting away these melon seeds, how can we help
feeling reproach? He who eats the fruit, should at least plant
the seed; aye, if possible, a better seed than that whose fruit
he has enjoyed. Seeds! there are seeds enough which need only
to be stirred in with the soil where they lie, by an inspired
voice or pen, to bear fruit of a divine flavor. O thou
spendthrift! Defray thy debt to the world; eat not the seed of
institutions, as the luxurious do, but plant it rather, while
thou devourest the pulp and tuber for thy subsistence; that so,
perchance, one variety may at last be found worthy of
preservation.
There are moments when all anxiety and stated toil are becalmed
in the infinite leisure and repose of nature. All laborers must
have their nooning, and at this season of the day, we are all,
more or less, Asiatics, and give over all work and reform. While
lying thus on our oars by the side of the stream, in the heat of
the day, our boat held by an osier put through the staple in its
prow, and slicing the melons, which are a fruit of the East, our
thoughts reverted to Arabia, Persia, and Hindostan, the lands of
contemplation and dwelling-places of the ruminant nations. In
the experience of this noontide we could find some apology even
for the instinct of the opium, betel, and tobacco chewers. Mount
Saber, according to the French traveller and naturalist, Botta,
is celebrated for producing the Kat-tree, of which "the soft tops
of the twigs and tender leaves are eaten," says his reviewer,
"and produce an agreeable soothing excitement, restoring from
fatigue, banishing sleep, and disposing to the enjoyment of
conversation." We thought that we might lead a dignified
Oriental life along this stream as well, and the maple and alders
would be our Kat-trees.
It is a great pleasure to escape sometimes from the restless
class of Reformers. What if these grievances exist? So do you
and I. Think you that sitting hens are troubled with ennui these
long summer days, sitting on and on in the crevice of a hay-loft,
without active employment? By the faint cackling in distant
barns, I judge that dame Nature is interested still to know how
many eggs her hens lay. The Universal Soul, as it is called, has
an interest in the stacking of hay, the foddering of cattle, and
the draining of peat-meadows.
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