the largest houses for oxen, cows, and horses hereabouts, and it
is not behindhand in its public buildings; but there are very few halls
for free worship or free speech in this county. It should not be by
their architecture, but why not even by their power of abstract
thought, that nations should seek to commemorate themselves? How much
more admirable the Bhagvat-Geeta than all the ruins of the East! Towers
and temples are the luxury of princes. A simple and independent mind
does not toil at the bidding of any prince. Genius is not a retainer to
any emperor, nor is its material silver, or gold, or marble, except to
a trifling extent. To what end, pray, is so much stone hammered? In
Arcadia, when I was there, I did not see any hammering stone. Nations
are possessed with an insane ambition to perpetuate the memory of
themselves by the amount of hammered stone they leave. What if equal
pains were taken to smooth and polish their manners? One piece of good
sense would be more memorable than a monument as high as the moon. I
love better to see stones in place. The grandeur of Thebes was a vulgar
grandeur. More sensible is a rod of stone wall that bounds an honest
man’s field than a hundred-gated Thebes that has wandered farther from
the true end of life. The religion and civilization which are barbaric
and heathenish build splendid temples; but what you might call
Christianity does not. Most of the stone a nation hammers goes toward
its tomb only. It buries itself alive. As for the Pyramids, there is
nothing to wonder at in them so much as the fact that so many men could
be found degraded enough to spend their lives constructing a tomb for
some ambitious booby, whom it would have been wiser and manlier to have
drowned in the Nile, and then given his body to the dogs. I might
possibly invent some excuse for them and him, but I have no time for
it. As for the religion and love of art of the builders, it is much the
same all the world over, whether the building be an Egyptian temple or
the United States Bank. It costs more than it comes to. The mainspring
is vanity, assisted by the love of garlic and bread and butter. Mr.
Balcom, a promising young architect, designs it on the back of his
Vitruvius, with hard pencil and ruler, and the job is let out to Dobson
& Sons, stonecutters. When the thirty centuries begin to look down on
it, mankind begin to look up at it. As for your high towers and
monuments, there was a crazy fellow once in this town who undertook to
dig through to China, and he got so far that, as he said, he heard the
Chinese pots and kettles rattle; but I think that I shall not go out of
my way to admire the hole which he made. Many are concerned about the
monuments of the West and the East,—to know who built them. For my
part, I should like to know who in those days did not build them,—who
were above such trifling. But to proceed with my statistics.
By surveying, carpentry, and day-labor of various other kinds in the
village in the mean while, for I have as many trades as fingers, I had
earned $13.34. The expense of food for eight months, namely, from July
4th to March 1st, the time when these estimates were made, though I
lived there more than two years,—not counting potatoes, a little green
corn, and some peas, which I had raised, nor considering the value of
what was on hand at the last date, was
Rice,................... $ 1.73½
Molasses,................ 1.73 Cheapest form of the
saccharine.
Rye meal,................ 1.04¾
Indian meal,............. 0.99¾ Cheaper than rye.
Pork,.................... 0.22
All experiments which failed:
Flour,................... 0.88 Costs more than Indian meal,
both money and trouble.
Sugar,................... 0.80
Lard,.................... 0.65
Apples,.................. 0.25
Dried apple,............. 0.22
Sweet potatoes,.......... 0.10
One pumpkin,............. 0.06
One watermelon,.......... 0.02
Salt,.................... 0.03
Yes, I did eat $8.74, all told; but I should not thus unblushingly
publish my guilt, if I did not know that most of my readers were
equally guilty with myself, and that their deeds would look no better
in print. The next year I sometimes caught a mess of fish for my
dinner, and once I went so far as to slaughter a woodchuck which
ravaged my bean-field,—effect his transmigration, as a Tartar would
say,—and devour him, partly for experiment’s sake; but though it
afforded me a momentary enjoyment, notwithstanding a musky flavor, I
saw that the longest use would not make that a good practice, however
it might seem to have your woodchucks
