514 FARMERS' INSTITUTES. 



society called solitude," pursuing his studies as a naturalist and gathering 

 material for literary work. 



His furniture at Walden consisted of a bed, a table, a desk, three chairs — 

 "one for solitude, two for friendship, three for society" — a pair of tongs, 

 and a few plates, knives, forks, and cooking utensils. He had, at one time, 

 three pieces of limestone on his desk but, finding they required to be dusted 

 every day (you see he was a neat housekeeper though literary), he threw them 

 out of the window, preferring to spend the time in dusting the furniture of 

 his mind. When dining with a friend, as he did upon rare occasions, he was 

 asked what dish he preferred, he replied "the nearest," and seemed sur- 

 prised at the anxiety people usually manifest to have new and unpatched 

 clothes rather than a sound conscience. 



I do not quote this gifted and aspiring man as an example to be followed 

 literally, but I do say that somewhere between this extreme on the one hand 

 and the extravagance he condemned on the other, there is a golden mean for 

 which earth's toilers, whether in field, workshop or household, should cease- 

 lessly strive : First, by reducing our social requirements to the limit of what 

 can be afforded without undue absorption of all the energies in the procur- 

 ing ; second, by method in both labor and thought. 



Method and habit are labor-saving machines which we cannot afford to do 

 without. They are inexpensive and invaluable. A routine of business 

 established, and the tools connected with it in place, the worker can 

 go through the detail a thousand times not only without mistake, but 

 almost without a thought, while the mental energy thus left free may 

 busy itself with a train of thought quite foreign and with no detriment to 

 the business in hand. Then, when this opportunity occurs, if we are method- 

 ical in our mental arrangements also, we will have ready some subject of 

 thought stored away for the occasion, and pursue it instead of wasting our 

 time in worrying over past troubles that cannot be helped or future evils 

 that may never come. It is to be admitted that a train of thought under 

 these circumstances is liable to interruptions, especially with the busy house- 

 wife and mother. The baby may enter a noisy protest; the little boy may 

 fall and raise a new phrenological bump on his cranium, whose ache none but 

 a mother's touch can heal; a larger specimen of undeveloped manhood 

 may burst in with a fearful rent in an essential garment. But, though dis- 

 couraging, even this may not prove absolute defeat. Just stick a pin into 

 the thought in your mind and fasten it to the work you were doing and 

 when you return to the one you will find the other also. "We are all 

 acquainted with the facility with which circumstances and places will recall 

 the thoughts with which we were occupied when in the same locality or 

 under similar circumstances. 



An instance of this kind once occurred in the experience of Dr. Holmes, 

 somewhat to his discomfiture. He had lectured in Hartford, Conn., and was 

 invited to meet Mrs. Sigourney at tea. She pleasantly referred to his wan- 

 derings. " Yes," he replied, " I am like the Huma, the bird that never lights, 

 being always in the cars, as he is always on the wing." Years elapsed. Again 

 he visited the same place for the same purpose. Another social cup after 

 the lecture, and another meeting with the distinguished lady. "You are 

 constantly going from place to place," she said. "Yes," he answered, "I 

 am like the Huma" — and finished the sentence as before. What horrors, 

 when it flashed over him that he had made this fine speech, word for word, 



