ght
baskets, and left "the world to darkness and to me," and the black
kernel of the night was never profaned by any human neighborhood. I
believe that men are generally still a little afraid of the dark,
though the witches are all hung, and Christianity and candles have been
introduced.

Yet I experienced sometimes that the most sweet and tender, the most
innocent and encouraging society may be found in any natural object,
even for the poor misanthrope and most melancholy man. There can be no
very black melancholy to him who lives in the midst of Nature and has
his senses still. There was never yet such a storm but it was AEolian
music to a healthy and innocent ear. Nothing can rightly compel a simple
and brave man to a vulgar sadness. While I enjoy the friendship of the
seasons I trust that nothing can make life a burden to me. The gentle
rain which waters my beans and keeps me in the house today is not drear
and melancholy, but good for me too. Though it prevents my hoeing them,
it is of far more worth than my hoeing. If it should continue so long as
to cause the seeds to rot in the ground and destroy the potatoes in the
low lands, it would still be good for the grass on the uplands, and,
being good for the grass, it would be good 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 gentle 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
neighborhood insignificant, and I have never thought of them since.
Every little pine needle expanded and swelled with sympathy and
be