Chapter 94 Old Resident; Winter Visitor - 6

I must not forget that during my last winter on the lake there was a welcome visitor who for a time passed through snow and rain and darkness until he saw my lamp from among the trees and he spent time with me There were many long winter nights.One of the last philosophers,--the State of Connecticut gave him to the world--he first peddled the wares of that state, then he announced that he was going to shove his mind.He still sells minds, praises God, and scolds the world, and minds alone are his fruit, like the pulp in a nut.I think he must be the one with the strongest faith among the living men of faith in the world.His words, his attitude always meant that everything was better than other people knew, and as times changed, he was probably the last to be disappointed, and at the moment he had no plans.Although it is relatively unnoticed now, when his day comes, laws and regulations that are generally unexpected by people will be implemented, and parents and rulers will come to him for advice.

"How blind is he who does not know clarification!" A faithful friend of man; almost the only friend of man's progress.An ancient mortal, rather an immortal man, with tireless patience and conviction to make clear the image inscribed in man, whose gods are now but their ruined monuments, Tilted to fall.With his benevolent intellect he embraced the child, the beggar, the madman, the scholar, embraced all thought, and generally gave it breadth and precision.I think he should open a big hotel on the road of the world, where philosophers from all over the world will be entertained, and the sign should read: "House for man, not for his beast. Whoever has leisure and peace of mind, please, ask for it." He who seeks a right way comes in." He was about the most sober man, the least scheming man I ever knew; he was the same man yesterday as he is today.We used to walk, we talked, and effectively left our world behind, because he did not belong to any of its institutions, was born free, and was extraordinarily clever.No matter which corner we turned, the sky and the earth seemed to meet, and the beauty of the scenery was enhanced for him.The most suitable roof for a man in blue is the firmament in which his clarification is reflected.I do not believe he will die; nature will not let him go.

Talking about each other's thoughts, as if drying the chips, we sat and sharpened them, tried our knives, and admired the shiny grain of the pine.We wade through the water so gently and respectfully, or we go hand in hand in such harmony, that the fish of our thoughts are not frightened to run from the stream, nor afraid of the angler on the bank, and the fish come and go majestically , Like the white clouds drifting across the western sky, the mother-of-pearl clouds sometimes take shape and sometimes dissipate.There we work, examining myths, revising fables, building castles in the air, for there is no worthwhile foundation on earth.Great observer!Great seer!Chatting with him is one of the great treats of a New England night.Ah, we had such conversations, the hermit and the philosopher, and that old immigrant I spoke of,—the three of us,—and the little room grew and shook: I dare not say, the atmosphere How many pounds of weight lay on every inch of the arc of the diameter; how much dullness must be plugged into the slits where it splits, to keep it from leaking;—fortunately I have picked up quite a few hemp roots and stuffing Flocked.

There was another man, who lived in his own home in the village, with whom I had a "fantastic time together" that I will never forget, and who visited me from time to time; but no one else. Sometimes, as elsewhere, I look forward to guests who will never come.Vishnupurana said, "The owner of the house should wait at the gate at dusk for about the time it takes to milk a cow. If necessary, it can be extended to wait for the guests." I often wait solemnly in this way. It is enough to milk a group of cows, but no one is seen coming from the town.