SUMMER 85 



Edison may, after all, be big in one de- 

 partment, and in others shrunken from 

 disuse. One may even have a mind like 

 a Turner or no, I will not mention the 

 musician's name that would show itself 

 on the outside of the head by one big bump 

 in a desert of depression. And here is 

 Got, dean of the Comedie Francaise, claim- 

 ing that in his calling people get on best 

 without minds. Bother it all ! The worst 

 of thought in this nineteenth century is 

 that you don't know what to think. My 

 Emerson and Bacon, even my Burroughs 

 and Thoreau, shall suggest nothing to me 

 to-day. I will leave my brains in the 

 house, and sit among the petunias and 

 sweet-peas. For nature, even a yardful 

 of it, makes health in her communicant. 

 Get away from self- consciousness. Think 

 not of your mind nor of your fate. Why 

 be always thinking on your end ? as grave- 

 yard literature hath it. We are here to 

 live, not to die. Continue the good work 

 that those might have done who are gone. 

 So shall you be prepared to die. 



There may be matters that people hold 



