SOLITUDE. 
143 
for me. Sometimes, when I compare myself with other 
men, it seems as if I were more favored by the gods than 
they, beyond any deserts that I am conscious of; as 
if I had a warrant and surety at their hands which my 
fellows have not, and were especially guided and 
guarded. I do not flatter myself, but if it be possible 
they flatter me. I have never felt lonesome, or in the 
least oppressed by a sense of solitude, but once, and 
that was a few weeks after I came to the woods, when, 
for an hour, I doubted if the near neighborhood of man 
was not essential to a serene and healthy life. To be 
alone was something unpleasant. But I was at the 
same time conscious of a slight insanity in my mood, and 
seemed to foresee my recovery. In the midst of a gen¬ 
tle rain while these thoughts prevailed, I was suddenly 
sensible of such sweet and beneficent society in Nature, 
in the very pattering of the drops, and in every sound and 
sight around my house, an infinite and unaccountable 
friendliness all at once like an atmosphere sustaining 
me, as made the fancied advantages of human neighbor¬ 
hood insignificant, and I have never thought of them 
since. Every little pine needle expanded and swelled 
with sympathy and befriended me. I was so distinctly 
made aware of the presence of something kindred to 
me, even in scenes which we are accustomed to call 
wild and dreary, and also that the nearest of blood to 
me and humanest was not a person nor a villager, that 
I thought no place could ever be strange to me again.— 
‘ 4 Mourning untimely consumes the sad ; 
Few are their days in the land of the living, 
Beautiful daughter of To scar.” 
Some of my pleasantest hours were during the long 
