144 
WALDEN. 
rain storms in the spring or fall, which confined me to 
the house for the afternoon as well as the forenoon, 
soothed by their ceaseless roar and pelting; when an 
early twilight ushered in a long evening in which many 
thoughts had time to take root and unfold themselves. 
In those driving north-east rains which tried the village 
houses so, when the maids stood ready with mop and 
pail in front entries to keep the deluge out, I sat behind 
my door in my little house, which was all entry, and 
thoroughly enjoyed its protection. In one heavy thun¬ 
der shower the lightning struck a large pitch-pine 
across the pond, making a very conspicuous and perfect¬ 
ly regular spiral groove from top to bottom, an inch or 
more deep, and four or five inches wide, as you would 
groove a walking-stick. I passed it again the other 
day, and was struck with awe on looking up and behold¬ 
ing that mark, now more distinct than ever, where a 
terrific and resistless bolt came down out of the harm¬ 
less sky eight years ago. Men frequently say to me, 
“ I should think you would feel lonesome down there, 
and want to be nearer to folks, rainy and snowy days and 
nights especially.” I am tempted to reply to such, — 
This whole earth which we inhabit is but a point in 
space. How far apart, think you, dwell the two most 
distant inhabitants of yonder star, the breadth of whose 
disk cannot be appreciated by our instruments ? Why 
should I feel lonely? is not our planet in the Milky 
Way ? This which you put seems to me not to be the 
most important question. What sort of space is that 
which separates a man from his fellows and makes 
him solitary? I have found that no exertion of the 
legs can bring two minds much nearer to one an¬ 
other. What do we want most to dwell near to? 
