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beautiful literature, he gave us our first and probably only nature
classic, he gave us an example of plain living and high thinking that
is always in season, and he took upon himself that kind of noble
poverty that carries the suggestion of wealth of soul.

No matter how much Thoreau abjured our civilization, he certainly made
good use of the weapons it gave him. No matter whose lands he squatted
on, or whose saw he borrowed, or to whom or what he was indebted for
the tools and utensils that made his life at Walden possible,--these
things were the mere accidents of his environment,--he left a record
of his life and thoughts there which is a precious heritage to his
countrymen. The best in his books ranks with the best in the
literature of his times. One could wish that he had shown more
tolerance for the things other men live for, but this must not make us
overlook the value of the things he himself lived for, though with
some of his readers his intolerance doubtless has this effect. We
cannot all take to the woods and swamps as Thoreau did. He had a
genius for that kind of a life; the most of us must stick to our farms
and desks and shops and professions.

Thoreau retired to Walden for study and contemplation, and because, as
he said, he had a little private business with himself. He found that
by working about six weeks in the year he could meet all his living
expenses, and then have all his winter and most of his summers free
and clear for study. He found that to maintain one's self on this
earth is not a hardship, but a pastime, if one will live simply and
wisely. He said, "It is not necessary that a man should earn his
living by the sweat of his brow unless he sweats easier than I do."
Was not his experiment worth while?

"Walden" is a wonderful and delightful piece of brag, but it is much
more than that. It is literature; it is a Gospel of the Wild. It made
a small Massachusetts pond famous, and the Mecca of many devout
pilgrims.

Lowell says that Thoreau had no humor, but there are many pages in
"Walden" that are steeped in a quiet but most delicious humor. His
humor brings that inward smile which is the badge of art's felicity.
His "Bean-Field" is full of it. I venture to say that never before had
a hermit so much fun with a field of white beans.

Both by training and by temperament Lowell was disqualified from
entering into Thoreau's character and aims. Lowell's passion for books
and academic accompl