most as well not have
been there. One might, also, plant a high hedge in place of the fence
and make shift to hide behind it. One could enlarge the house as need
demanded; an affluent vegetable garden could be laid out in the meadow,
and fruit and ornamental trees could be added to the slopes of the
hill-side. The village was removed to a distance of a trifle over a
mile, so that the roar of its traffic would not invade this retreat; and
Mr. Emerson sat radiating peace and wisdom between the village and
"The Wayside"; while Mr. Alcott shone with ancillary lustre only a
stone's-throw away. Thoreau and Ellery Channing were tramping about
in the neighborhood, and Judge Hoar and his beautiful sister dispensed
sweetness and light in the village itself. Walden Pond, still secluded
as when only the Indians had seen the sky and the trees reflected in
it, was within a two-mile walk, and the silent Musketaquid stole on its
level way beyond the hill on the other side. Surely, a man might travel
far and not find a spot better suited for work and meditation and
discreet society than Concord was.

But, of course, the necessity of settling down somewhere was a main
consideration. Concord, was inviting in itself, but it was also
recommended by the argument of exclusion; no other place so desirable
and at the same time so easy of attainment happened to present itself.
It did not lie within sound and sight of the ocean; but that was the
worst that could be urged against it. A man must choose, and Concord
was, finally, Hawthorne's choice.

At this epoch he had not contemplated, save in day-dreams, the
possibility of visiting the Old World. His friend, Franklin Pierce, had
just become President-elect, but that fact had not suggested to his mind
the change in his own fortunes which it was destined to bring about.
He was too modest a critic of his own abilities to think that his work
would ever bring him money enough for foreign travel, and, therefore,
in accepting Concord as his home, he believed that he was fixing the
boundaries of his future earthly experience. It was not his ideal;
no imaginative man can ever hope to find that; but as soon as we have
called a place our Home, it acquires a charm that has nothing to do with
material conditions. The best-known song in American poesy has impressed
that truth upon Americans--who are the most homeless people in the
world.

IV

A transfigured cattle-pen--Emerson the hub of Con