The Rambles of an Idler 



glittering dew-drop, nor violet on the still 

 green, sunny slope; why should the bird re- 

 joice? The song shortened to a few brief notes, 

 a meditative strain eloquent with thoughts of 

 happier days. Then, silence. I had heard the 

 thrush's last song. 



I am always active when there is work to do : 

 I run away from it; yet it is intimated that I 

 am lazy. Not only is this activity on my part, 

 but it is speedy. Not unwise haste, either. I 

 protest against being adversely criticized. 



Long ago I gave up serious undertakings. 

 When I was through, as I supposed, I always 

 found there was something yet to do. There 

 Was no exception, and I did not propose to bat- 

 tle with a law of Nature. I resigned activity of 

 my own initiative and ever since have been an 

 advocate of ease. 



We contemplate the ideals that unwittingly 

 arise in our minds. I think no one says to him- 

 self, "I will be a model," but, "I will model 

 myself after" — such an one. It is so much 

 easier to follow than to lead. It taxes both 

 mind and body less. Whom I copy is nothing 

 to others, but I do copy. He was nothing if 



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