. Through the year with Thoreau. e andthere, a strand appears which is not quite in tunewith its surroundings. Notwithstanding, the patternis singularly consistent, harmonious, and satisfying,every feature contributing faithfully to the unity ofthe design. The colors are fast, even when subjectedto the most rigorous tests; there is no needless fringeor superficial lustre; while in point of durability, itpromises to outlast a thousand rugs of the ordinarysort. Thoreaus interest, in all his outdoor studies, wascentred chiefly upon life. The rocks and ledges heldhis attention only as they reveale
. Through the year with Thoreau. e andthere, a strand appears which is not quite in tunewith its surroundings. Notwithstanding, the patternis singularly consistent, harmonious, and satisfying,every feature contributing faithfully to the unity ofthe design. The colors are fast, even when subjectedto the most rigorous tests; there is no needless fringeor superficial lustre; while in point of durability, itpromises to outlast a thousand rugs of the ordinarysort. Thoreaus interest, in all his outdoor studies, wascentred chiefly upon life. The rocks and ledges heldhis attention only as they revealed a story of sand overflowing the snow was to him a wel-come token of Natures vitality. He delighted in run-ning brooks, but stagnant pools were of value only asmirrors for the living landscape. November, with itsbareness and desolateness, was the hardest month ofthe year for him to get through. As for museums, withtheir stuffed specimens, he positively hated them —catacombs of nature. He felt compelled to visit. them at rare intervals to get confirmation for someof his scientific observations, but he queries, Whatright have mortals to parade these things on their legsagain, with their wires, and, when heaven has decreedthat they shall return to dust again, to return them tosawdust? and he affirms, I have had my right-per-ceiving senses so disturbed in these haunts as to mis-take a veritable living man for a stuffed specimen,and surveyed him with dumb wonder as the strangestof the whole collection. Thoreau was a naturalist ofthe best type, but he was no collector. In Emer-sons phrase, he named all the birds without a gun,loved the wood-rose and left it on its stalk. Oncewhen a farmer came to him and offered to him as a nat-uralist a two-headed calf which his cow had broughtforth, Thoreau was utterly disgusted and began tocatechize himself, asking what enormity he had com-mitted that such an offer should be made to him! And not merely life, but human life was th
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