File:Pictures of an inland sea (1902) (14764882675).jpg

Identifier: picturesofinland00lamb2 (find matches)
Title: Pictures of an inland sea
Year: 1902 (1900s)
Authors: Lambourne, Alfred
Subjects:
Publisher: (Salt Lake City) : The Deseret News, Publishers
Contributing Library: Harold B. Lee Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Brigham Young University

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quite another thing to brave it inthis solitude and alone. This is the unfriend-liness rather than the sweet* of seclusion.Two of the chairs which the recluse Thoreaumentions a3 among his rustic furniture—first,for solitude, second, for friendship, third, forsociety—would be useless here. The InlandSea, and the bleak, inhospitable time, keep myisland and myself in unbroken ostracism. Philip Gilbert Hamerton once built a hut.Over forty years ago, on the Boulsworth Moors—in Yorkshire—he painted on the spot, when,as he tells us, shepherds refused to wanderon the hills and sheep were lost in the snow.Thoreau, at Walden Pond, wrote a book, and,besides with transcripts of nature, filled halfits pages with a sort of grumbling philosophy.Society came to Hamerton; and at ThePond, even on the coldest nights of a NewEngland winter, the creak of timber-ladenwagons could be heard on the near LexingtonRoad. Twice a day the Fitchburg train wentsnorting by. Here it is different. That star 28
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^5665 THE INLAND SEA which is sometimes seen quivering across thehills of Promontory, is my only visitant, ifvisitant it can be called. I know it to be theheadlight of a locomotive dragging its trainload of human beings across the land, andfancy makes me think that the lone light ofmy window Flashes an answer back—confederate. Only I fear it is not seen. In that samefancy I meet my friends. I am not molestedby drunken gypsies; no angry poacher comeshere, nor by any possibility will some scullerymaid pass this way, whom I might espouse.Neither does anyone come to offer the per-formance of a household drudgery, no lovedone of loved ones appears, to pass with me anevening, the memory of which shall be glad-ness. I am not as fortunate as he of Walden,or Diogenes in his tub. My repented temerityhas brought me for the nonce where I ammore isolated than Stylites on his pillar, lessvisited than was Timon of Athens. What is solitude?—a condition of mind.29 IRE INLAND SEAAfter all, there ar

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