THIS DATE, FROM HENRY DAVID THOREAU'S JOURNAL

July 21, 1860

A rainy day: half an inch of rain falls, spoiling much hay. This is so wet a season that the grass is still growing fast and most things are very fresh.

The leaves generally do not get to be perfect till the middle of July, when they are of a dark, hard, glossy green, e. g. the swamp white oak.

6 P. M. - Up Assabet.

Now, after the rain, the sun coming forth brightly, the swallows in numbers are skimming low over the river just below the junction.

Considerable bur-reed, vallisneria, and heart-leaf has been washed up against the weeds and pads along the sides of the river of late.

The canary grass standing so high and densely, with its now very light-brown closed heads, looks more like grain at a distance than any of our wild grasses, as you look down the river from the junction.

December 10, 1839

Commonly we degrade Love and Friendship by presenting them under the aspect of a trivial dualism.

(Undated entry)

November 17, 1860

I frequently see the heads of teasel, called fuller’s thistle, floating on our river, having come from factories above, and thus the factories which use it may distribute its seeds by means of the streams which turn their machinery, from one to another. The one who first cultivated the teasel extensively in this town is said to have obtained the seed when it was not to be purchased - the culture being monopolized - by sweeping a wagon which he had loaned to a teasel-raiser.

December 18, 1839

I am only introduced once again to myself. (undated entry)

December 9, 1839

To the sensitive soul, the universe has its own fixed measure, which is its measure also, and, as a regular pulse is inseparable from a healthy body, so is its healthiness dependent on the regularity of its rhythm. In all sounds the soul recognizes its own rhythm, and seeks to express its sympathy by a correspondent movement of the limbs. When the body marches to the measure of the soul, then is true courage and invincible strength. (undated entry)

December 16, 1839

Science is always brave, for to know is to know good; doubt and danger quail before her eye. What the coward overlooks in his hurry, she calmly scrutinizes, breaking ground like a pioneer for the array of arts in her train. Cowardice is unscientific, for there cannot be a science of ignorance. There may be a science of war, for that advances, but a retreat is rarely well conducted; if it is, then is it an orderly advance in the face of circumstances.

(undated entry)

December 2, 1839

One moment of serene and confident life is more glorious than a whole campaign of daring. We should be ready for all issues, not daring to die but daring to live. To the brave even danger is an ally.

(undated entry, 1839)

June 4, 1839

My Attic.

I sit here this fourth of June, looking out on men and nature from this that I call my perspective window, through which all things are seen in their true relations. This is my upper empire, bounded by four walls, viz., three of boards yellow-washed, facing the north, west, and south, respectively, and the fourth of plaster, likewise yellow-washed, fronting the sunrise, - to say nothing of the purlieus and outlying provinces, unexplored as yet but by rats.

The words of some men are thrown forcibly against you and adhere like burs.

May 11, 1839

The farmer keeps pace with his crops and the revolutions of the seasons, but the merchant with the fluctuations of trade. Observe how differently they walk in the streets.

October 22, 1839

Nature will bear the closest inspection. She invites us to lay our eye level with her smallest leaf, and take an insect view of its plain.