Bedtime Tale: Walden Chapter 1 Part 7

Enjoy this bedtime tale to help you drift off into a peaceful slumber. I am reading Walden: Ch 1 Part 7 by Henry David Thoreau tonight. Chapter One, Economy, describes Thoreau's embarking on a 2-year stay in the woods of Massachusetts by the Walden Pond. This audio is perfect for children or adults who want to relax, discover magic, or find adventure before a great night's sleep.

Transcript

Walden by Henry David Thoreau Chapter 1 Economy Part 7 My furniture,

Part of which I made myself,

And the rest cost me nothing of which I have not rendered an account,

Consisted of a bed,

A table,

A desk,

Three chairs,

A looking glass three inches in diameter,

A pair of tongs,

A kettle,

A skillet and a frying pan,

A dipper,

A wash bowl,

Two knives and forks,

Three plates,

One cup,

One spoon,

A jug for oil,

A jug for molasses,

And a lamp.

None is so poor that he needs sit on a pumpkin.

That is shiftlessness.

There is plenty of such chairs as I like best in the village garrets to be had for taking them away.

Furniture.

Thank God.

I can sit and I can stand without the aid of furniture warehouse.

What man but a philosopher would not be ashamed to see his furniture packed in a cart and going up country exposed to the light of heaven and the eyes of men?

A beggarly account of an empty box?

That is Spalding's furniture.

I could never tell from inspecting such a load whether it belonged to a so-called rich man or a poor one.

The owner always seemed poverty-stricken.

Indeed,

The more you have of such things,

The poorer you are.

Each load looks as if it contained the contents of a dozen shanties,

And if one shanty is poor,

This is a dozen times as poor.

Pray,

For what do we move ever but to get rid of our furniture?

At last to go from this world to another newly furnished and leave this to be burned?

It is the same as if all these traps were buckled to a man's belt and he could never move over the rough country where our lines are cast without dragging them,

Dragging his trap.

He was a lucky fox that left his tail in the trap.

The muskrat will gnaw his third leg off to be free.

No wonder man has lost his elasticity.

How often is at a dead set?

Sir,

If I may be so bold,

What do you mean by a dead set?

If you are a seer,

Whenever you meet a man,

You will see all that he owns,

Aye,

And much that he pretends to disown behind him,

Even to his kitchen furniture and all the trumpery which he saves and will not burn,

And he will appear to be harnessed to it and making what headway he can.

I think that the man is at a dead set who has got through a knot hole or gateway where his sledge load of furniture cannot follow him.

I cannot but feel compassion when I hear some trig,

Compact-looking man,

Seemingly free,

All girded and ready,

Speak of his furniture,

As whether it is insured or not.

But what shall I do with my furniture?

My gay butterfly is entangled in a spider's web then.

Even those who seem for a long while not to have any,

If you inquire more narrowly,

You will find have some stored in somebody's barn.

I look upon England today as an old gentleman who was travelling with a great deal of baggage,

Trumpery which has accumulated from long housekeeping,

Which he has not the courage to burn,

Great trunk,

Little trunk,

Band-box and bundle.

Throw away the first three at least.

It would surpass the powers of a well man nowadays to take up his bed and walk.

And I should certainly advise a sick one to lay down his bed and run.

When I have met an immigrant tottering under a bundle which contained his all,

Looking like an enormous wen which had grown out to the nape of his neck,

I have pitied him,

Not because that was his all,

But because he had all that to carry.

If I have got to drag my trap,

I will take care that it be a light one,

And do not knit me in the vital part,

But perchance it would be wisest never to put one pause into it.

I would observe,

By the way,

That it cost me nothing for curtains,

For I have no gazers to shut out but the sun and the moon,

And I am willing that they should look in.

The moon will not sour milk nor taint meat of mine,

Nor will the sun injure my furniture or fade my carpet.

And if he is sometimes too warm a friend,

I find it still better economy to retreat behind some curtain which nature has provided than to add a single item to the details of housekeeping.

A lady once offered me a mat,

But as I had no room to spare within the house,

Nor time to spare within or without to shake it,

I declined it,

Preferring to wipe my feet on the sod before my door.

It is best to avoid the beginnings of evil.

Not long since I was present at the auction of a deacon's effects,

For his life had not been ineffectual.

The evil that men do lives after them.

As usual,

A great proportion was trumpery which had begun to accumulate in his father's day.

Among the rest was a dried tapeworm,

And now,

After lying half a century in his garret and other dust holes,

These things were not burned,

Instead of a bonfire,

Or purifying destruction of them,

There was an auction,

Or increasing of them.

The neighbors eagerly collected to view them,

Bought them all,

And carefully transported them to their garrets and dust holes,

To lie there till their estates were settled,

When they will start again.

When a man dies,

He kicks the dust.

The customs of some savage nations might,

Perchance,

Be profitably imitated by us,

For they at least go through the semblance of casting their slow annually.

They have the idea of a thing,

Whether they have the reality or not.

Would it not be well if we were to celebrate such a busk,

Or feast of first fruits,

As Bartram describes to have been with the custom of the muckless Indians?

When a town celebrates the busk,

Says he,

Having previously provided themselves with new clothes,

New pots,

Pans,

And other household utensils and furniture,

They collect all their worn-out clothes,

And other despicable things,

Sweep and cleanse their houses,

Squares,

And the whole town of their filth,

Which,

With all the remaining grain and other old provisions,

They cast together into one common heap,

And consume it with fire.

After having taken medicine,

And fasted for three days,

All the fire in the town is extinguished.

During this fast,

They abstain from the gratification of every appetite and passion whatever.

A general amnesty is proclaimed.

All malefactors may return to their town.

On the fourth morning,

The high priest,

By rubbing dry wood together,

Produces new fire in the public square,

From whence every habitation in the town is supplied with the new and pure flame.

Then they feast on the new corn and fruits,

And dance and sing for three days.

In the four following days,

They receive visits and rejoice with their friends from neighboring towns,

Who have in a like manner purified and prepared themselves.

The Mexicans also practice a similar purification at the end of every 52 years,

In the belief that it was time for the world to come to an end.

I have scarcely heard of a truer sacrament,

That is,

As the dictionary defines it,

Outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace than this,

And I have no doubt that they were originally inspired directly from heaven to do this,

Though they have no biblical record of the revelation.

For more than five years I maintained myself thus solely by the labor of my hands,

And I found that by working about six weeks in a year,

I could meet all the expenses of living.

The whole of my winters,

As well as most of my summers,

I had free and clear for study.

I have thoroughly tried schoolkeeping,

And found that my expenses were in proportion,

Or rather out of proportion to my income,

For I was obliged to dress and train,

Not to say think and believe accordingly,

And I lost my time into the bargain.

As I did not teach for the good of my fellow men,

But simply for a livelihood,

This was a failure.

I have tried trade,

But I found that it would take ten years to get underway in that,

And that when I should probably be on my way to the devil,

I was actually afraid that I might buy that time by doing what is called a good business,

When formerly I was looking about to see what I could do for a living,

Some sad experience in conforming to the wishes of friends being fresh in mind to tax my injunity.

I thought often and seriously of picking huckleberries.

That surely I could do,

And its small profits might suffice,

For my greatest skill has been to want but little,

So little capital it required,

So little distraction from my wanted moods,

I foolishly thought.

While my acquaintances went unhesitatingly into trade or to the professions,

I contemplated this occupation as most like theirs,

Ranging the hills all summer to pick the berries which came in my way,

And thereafter carelessly dispose of them,

So to keep the flocks of Edmetus.

I also dreamed that I might gather the wild herbs or carry evergreens to such villagers as love to be reminded of the woods,

Even to the city,

Buy hay cart loads,

But I have since learned that trade curses everything it handles,

And though you trade in messages from heaven,

The whole curse of trade attaches to the business.

As I preferred some things to others,

And especially valued my freedom,

As I could fare hard and yet succeed well,

I did not wish to spend my time in earning rich carpets or other fine furniture,

Or delicate cookery,

Or a house in the Grecian or the Gothic style just yet.

If there are any to whom it is no interruption to acquire these things,

And who know how to use them when acquired,

I relinquish to them the pursuit.

Some are industrious,

And appear to love labor for its own sake,

Or perhaps because it keeps them out of worse mischief.

To such I have at present nothing to say.

Those who would not know what to do with more leisure than they now enjoy,

I might advise to work twice as hard as they do.

Work till they pay for themselves,

And get their free papers.

For myself,

I found that the occupation of a day laborer was the most independent of any,

Especially as it required only 30 or 40 days in a year to support one.

The laborer's day ends with the day going down on the sun,

And he is then free to devote himself to his chosen pursuit,

Independent of his labor.

But his employer,

Who speculates from month to month,

Has no respite from one end of the year to the other.

In short,

I am convinced,

Both by faith and experience,

That to maintain one's self on this earth is not a hardship,

But a pastime.

If we live simply and wisely,

As the pursuits of the simpler nations are still the sports of more artificial,

It is not necessary that a man should earn his living by the sweat of his brow,

Unless he sweats easier than I do.

One young man of my acquaintance,

Who has inherited some acres,

Told me that he thought he should live as I did,

If he had the means.

I would not have any one adopt my mode of living on any account for,

Besides that before he has fairly learned it,

I may have found out another for myself.

I desire that there may be as many different persons in this world as possible,

But I would have each one be very careful to find out and pursue his own way,

And not his father's or his mother's or his neighbor's instead.

The youth may build or plant or sail,

Only let him not be hindered from doing that which he tells me he would like to do.

It is by a mathematical point only that we are wise,

As the sailor or the fugitive slave keeps the pole star in his eye.

But that is sufficient guidance for all our life.

We may not arrive at our port within a calculable period,

But we would preserve the true course.

Undoubtedly,

In this case,

What is true for one is truer still for a thousand,

As a large house is not proportionally more expensive than a small one,

Since one roof may cover,

One cellar underlie,

And one wall separates several apartments.

But for my part,

I preferred the solitary dwelling.

Moreover,

It will commonly be cheaper to build the whole yourself than to convince another of the advantage of the common wall.

And when you've done this,

The common partition,

To be much cheaper,

It must be a thin one,

And that other may prove a bad neighbor and also not keep his sight in repair.

The only cooperation which is commonly possible is exceedingly partial and superficial,

And what little true cooperation there is,

Is as if it were not,

Being a harmony inaudible to men.

If a man has faith,

He will cooperate with equal faith everywhere.

If he has not faith,

He will continue to live like the rest of the world,

Whatever company he is joined to.

To cooperate,

In the highest as well as the lowest sense,

Means to get our living together.

I heard it proposed lately that two young men should travel together over the world,

The one without money,

Earning his means as he went,

Before the mast and behind the plow,

And the other carrying a bill of exchange in his pocket.

It was easy to see that they could not long be companions or cooperate,

Since one would not operate at all.

They would part at the first interesting crisis in their adventures.

Above all,

As I have implied,

The man who goes alone can start today,

But he who travels with another must wait till the other is ready,

And it may be a long time before they get off.

And that is the end of our story this evening.

Until next time,

Sweet dreams.