200 EARLY SPRING IN MASSACHUSETTS. 
March 22, 1840. While I bask in the sun 
on the shores of Walden Pond, by this heat and 
this rustle I am absolved from all obligation to 
the past. The council of nations may recon¬ 
sider their votes. The grating of a pebble an¬ 
nuls them. 
March 22, 1842. Nothing can be more use¬ 
ful to a man than a determination not to be 
hurried. 
I have not succeeded if I have an antagonist 
who fails. It must be humanity’s success. 
I cannot think nor utter my thoughts unless 
I have infinite room. The cope of heaven is 
not too high, the sea is not too deep, for him 
who would unfold a great thought. It must 
feed me, and warm and clothe me. It must be 
an entertainment to which my whole nature is 
invited. I must know that the gods are to be 
my fellow guests. 
March 22, 1858. As soon as those spring 
mornings arrive in which the birds sing, I am 
sure to be an early riser, I am waked by my 
genius, I wake to inaudible melodies, and am 
surprised to find myself awaiting the dawn in 
so serene and joyful and expectant a mood. I 
have an appointment with Spring. She comes 
to the window to wake me, and I go forth an 
hour or two earlier than usual. It is by es¬ 
pecial favor that I am waked, not rudely, but 
