The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
In the mid 1800s Ralph Waldo Emerson was known as The Sage of Concord. He gave lectures across the Eastern United States and Europe on his beliefs of self-reliance, nonconformity and the direct connection between man, nature and God. Emerson had a friend named Amos Bronson Alcott. Alcott was a Concord writer, speaker and philosopher in his own right. Alcott had a manuscript of his work that he asked a local publisher, Thomas Nines, to publish. Niles was a friend of the Alcott family, and he knew that Alcott had a daughter that was known for weaving wonderful stories for her little sisters. Wiley Niles told Alcott that he would publish Alcott's manuscript if Alcott would persuade his daughter to write a novel for young girls. Thus, was born "Little Women" by Louise Alcott. The older Alcott didn't fare nearly as well. Now both Alcott and Emerson were friends with a troubled Concord youth named David Henry Thoreau. Among other things, Thoreau, in his late 20s, started a fire that burned 300 acres of his neighbor's property. Young David wasn't terribly popular with the people of Concord. About this time, David decided to build a cabin deep in the snowy New England woods. We were led to believe that David was so far out in the wilderness that God couldn't find him. David began writing advocating living simply and retreating from society and its materialistic ills. Good timing. He spent 28 dollars for locally milled lumber and his friends, Emerson and Alcott, helped him build his cabin. In an act of reckless abandon David changed his pen name to Henry David Thoreau. Henry also wrote about self-reliance and about everything that Emerson and Alcott advocated. Young Henry's family stood unwavering with this head-strong youth. His mother would walk the 20-minute walk to his cabin on Waldon Pond, bringing him sandwiches and help with his laundry. Henry roughed it in his tiny house for a little over two years before he moved back home with his parents. I guess there is a limit to self-reliance and communing with nature, even for a troubled youth. Life is good.
