SOUNDS. 
But while we are confined to books, though the most 
select and classic, and read only particular written lan¬ 
guages, which are themselves but dialects and provin¬ 
cial, we are in danger of forgetting the language which 
all things and events speak without metaphor, which 
alone is copious and standard. Much is published, but 
little printed. The rays which stream through the 
shutter will be no longer remembered when the shut¬ 
ter is wholly removed. No method nor discipline 
can supersede the necessity of being forever on the 
alert. What is a course of history, or philosophy, or 
poetry, no matter how well selected, or the best society, 
or the most admirable routine of life, compared with the 
discipline of looking always at what is to be seen? 
Will you be a reader, a student merely, or a seer ? 
Bead your fate, see what is before you, and walk on into 
futurity. 
I did not read books the first summer; I hoed beans. 
Nay, I often did better than this. There were times 
when I could not afford to sacrifice the bloom of the 
present moment to any work, whether of the head or 
( 121 ) 
