THE NATURE-WRITER 125 



anything else than home without confessing 

 ourselves tenants here by preference, and liable, 

 therefore, to pay rent throughout eternity. The 

 best possible use for this earth is to make a home 

 of it, and for this span of life, to live it like a 

 human, earth-born being. 



Such is the credo of the nature-writer. Not 

 until it can be proved to him that eternal day is 

 more to his liking than the sweet alternation of 

 day and night, that unending rest is less monoto- 

 nous than his round of labor until the evening, 

 that streets of gold are softer for his feet than dirt 

 roads with borders of grass and dandelions, that 

 ceaseless hallelujahs about a throne exalt the ex- 

 cellency of God more than the quiet contempla- 

 tion of the work of His fingers — the moon and 

 the stars which He has ordained — not until, I 

 say, it can be proved to him that God did not 

 make this world, or, making it, spurned it, cursed 

 it, that heaven might seem the more blessed — 

 not until then will he forego his bean-patch at 

 Walden, his vineyard at West Park, his garden 

 at Selborne ; will he deny to his body a house- 

 lot on this little planet, and the range of this timed 

 and tidy universe to his soul. 



