midst of our crowded life to-day, multiform in acquired tastes since the days of Thoreau, we go away for a few weeks of simple, direct contact with nature in her wildness and her peace. We supply only needs; we rejoice in temporary non-conformity; we read Thoreau and his successors in nature-communion; we resolve to follow his plan for simplification, "instead of three meals a day if it be necessary, eat but one; instead of a hundred dishes, five; and reduce other things in proportion." On return, we make one or two spasmodic efforts to simplify but we lose courage at some neighbor's amaze and sarcasm. Though the brief experience has shown us that Thoreau found the true secret of growth for mind and soul, that he knew how to win contentment, yet we abandon his ideas again and fall into "this chopping sea of civilized life." We enter again with weak, dejected souls the competition, and "rush" from hour to hour, breathlessly demanding the "latest edition" and feeling a momentary satisfaction when we get "the six o'clock latest" four hours before it is due. At such times, one realizes with new force the manliness and soul-courage of Thoreau who "dared to live his thoughts."
In the second place, this creed of simplification did not imply resignation. Recall his own words
