Where I Lived, and What I Lived For2
The real attractions of the Hollowell farm， to me， were： its complete retirement， being， about two miles from the village， half a mile from the nearest neighbor， and separated from the highway by a broad field； its bounding on the river， which the owner said protected it by its fogs from frosts in the spring， though that was nothing to me； the gray color and ruinous state of the house and barn， and the dilapidated fences， which put such an interval between me and the last occupant； the hollow and lichen-covered apple trees，nawed by rabbits， showing what kind of neighbors I should have； but above all， the recollection I had of it from my earliest voyages up the river， when the house was concealed behind a dense grove of red maples， through which I heard the house-dog bark. I was in haste to buy it， before the proprietor finished getting out some rocks，cutting down the hollow apple trees， and grubbing up some young birches which had sprung up in the pasture， or， in short， had made any more of his improvements. To enjoy these advantages I was ready to carry it on； like Atlas， to take the world on my shoulders ―― I never heard what compensation he received for that ―― and do all those things which had no other motive or excuse but that I might pay for it and be unmolested in my possession of it； for I knew all the while that it would yield the most abundant crop of the kind I wanted， if I could only afford to let it alone. But it turned out as I have said.
All that I could say， then， with respect to farming on a large scale ―― I have always cultivated a garden ―― was， that I had had my seeds ready. Many think that seeds improve with age. I have no doubt that time discriminates between the good and the bad； and when at last I shall plant， I shall be less likely to be disappointed. But I would say to my fellows， once for all， As long as possible live free and uncommitted. It makes but little difference whether you are committed to a farm or the county jail. Old Cato， whose "De Re Rustica" is my "Cultivator，" says ―― and the only translation I have seen makes sheer nonsense of the passage―― "When you think of getting a farm turn it thus in your mind， not to buy greedily； nor spare your pains to look at it， and do not think it enough to go round it once. The oftener you go there the more it will please you， if it is good." I think I shall not buy greedily， but go round and round it as long as I live， and be buried in it first， that it may please me the more at last.
The present was my next experiment of this kind， which I purpose to describe more at length， for convenience putting the experience of two years into one. As I have said， I do not propose to write an ode to dejection， but to brag as lustily as chanticleer in the morning， standing on his roost， if only to wake my neighbors up. When first I took up my abode in the woods， that is， began to spend my nights as well as days there， which， by accident， was on Independence Day， or the Fourth of July， 1845， my house was not finished for winter， but was merely a defence against the rain，without plastering or chimney， the walls being of rough，weather-stained boards， with wide chinks， which made it cool at night. The upright white hewn studs and freshly planed door and window casings gave it a clean and airy look， especially in the morning， when its timbers were saturated with dew， so that I fancied that by noon some sweet gum would exude from them. To my imagination it retained throughout the day more or less of this auroral character， reminding me of a certain house on a mountain which I had visited a year before. This was an airy and unplastered cabin， fit to entertain a travelling god， and where a goddess might trail her garments. The winds which passed over my dwelling were such as sweep over the ridges of mountains， bearing the broken strains， or celestial parts only， of terrestrial music. The morning wind forever blows， the poem of creation is uninterrupted； but few are the ears that hear it. Olympus is but the outside of the earth everywhere.
霍樂威爾田園的真正迷人之處，在我看是：它的遁隱之深，離開村子有兩英里，離開最近的鄰居有半英里，并且有一大片地把它和公路隔開了；它傍著河流，據(jù)它的主人說，由于這條河，而升起了霧，春天里就不會(huì)再下霜了，這卻不在我心坎上；而且，它的田舍和棚屋帶有灰暗而殘敗的神色，加上零落的籬笆，好似在我和先前的居民之間，隔開了多少歲月；還有那蘋果樹，樹身已空，苔薛滿布，兔子咬過，可見得我將會(huì)有什么樣的一些鄰舍了，但最主要的還是那一度回憶，我早年就曾經(jīng)溯河而上，那時(shí)節(jié)，這些屋宇藏在密密的紅色楓葉叢中，還記得我曾聽到過一頭家犬的吠聲。我急于將它購買下來，等不及那產(chǎn)業(yè)主搬走那些巖石，砍伐掉那些樹身已空的蘋果樹，鏟除那些牧場中新近躍起的赤楊幼樹，一句話，等不及它的任何收拾了。為了享受前述的那些優(yōu)點(diǎn)，我決定干一下了；像那阿特拉斯一樣，把世界放在我肩膀上好啦，――我從沒聽到過他得了哪樣報(bào)酬，――我愿意做一切事：簡直沒有別的動(dòng)機(jī)或任何推托之辭，只等付清了款子，便占有這個(gè)田園，再不受他人侵犯就行了；因?yàn)槲抑牢抑灰屵@片田園自生自展，它將要生展出我所企求的最豐美的收獲。但后來的結(jié)果已見上述。
所以，我所說的關(guān)于大規(guī)模的農(nóng)事（至今我一直在培育著一座園林），僅僅是我已經(jīng)預(yù)備好了種子。許多人認(rèn)為年代越久的種子越好。我不懷疑時(shí)間是能分別好和壞的，但到最后我真正播種了，我想我大約是不至于會(huì)失望的?？墒俏乙嬖V我的伙伴們，只說這一次，以后永遠(yuǎn)不再說了：你們要盡可能長久地生活得自由，生活得并不執(zhí)著才好。
執(zhí)迷于一座田園，和關(guān)在縣政府的監(jiān)獄中，簡直沒有分別。
老卡托――他的《鄉(xiāng)村篇》是我的“啟蒙者”，曾經(jīng)說過――可惜我見到的那本唯一的譯本把這一段話譯得一塌糊涂，――“當(dāng)你想要買下一個(gè)田園的時(shí)候，你寧可在腦中多多地想著它，可決不要貪得無厭地買下它，更不要嫌麻煩而再不去看望它，也別以為繞著它兜了一個(gè)圈子就夠了。如果這是一個(gè)好田園，你去的次數(shù)越多你就越喜歡它?！?/p>
我想我是不會(huì)貪得無厭地購買它的，我活多久，就去兜多久的圈子，死了之后，首先要葬在那里。這樣才能使我終于更加喜歡它。
目前要寫的，是我的這一類實(shí)驗(yàn)中其次的一個(gè)，我打算更詳細(xì)地描寫描寫；而為了便利起見，且把這兩年的經(jīng)驗(yàn)歸并為一年。我已經(jīng)說過，我不預(yù)備寫一首沮喪的頌歌，可是我要像黎明時(shí)站在棲木上的金雞一樣，放聲啼叫，即使我這樣做只不過是為了喚醒我的鄰人罷了。
我第一天住在森林里，就是說，自天在那里，而且也在那里過夜的那一天，湊巧得很，是一八四五年七月四日，獨(dú)立日，我的房子沒有蓋好，過冬還不行，只能勉強(qiáng)避避風(fēng)雨，沒有灰泥墁，沒有煙囪，墻壁用的是飽經(jīng)風(fēng)雨的粗木板，縫隙很大，所以到晚上很是涼爽。筆直的、砍伐得來的、白色的間柱，新近才刨得平坦的門戶和窗框，使屋子具有清潔和通鳳的景象，特別在早晨，木料里飽和著露水的時(shí)候，總使我幻想到午間大約會(huì)有一些甜蜜的樹膠從中滲出。這房間在我的想象中，一整天里還將多少保持這個(gè)早晨的情調(diào)，這使我想起了上一年我曾游覽過的一個(gè)山頂上的一所房屋，這是一所空氣好的、不涂灰泥的房屋，適宜于旅行的神仙在途中居住，那里還適宜于仙女走動(dòng)，曳裙而過。吹過我的屋脊的風(fēng)，正如那掃蕩山脊而過的風(fēng)，唱出斷斷續(xù)續(xù)的調(diào)子來，也許是天上人間的音樂片段。晨風(fēng)永遠(yuǎn)在吹，創(chuàng)世紀(jì)的詩篇至今還沒有中斷；可惜聽得到它的耳朵太少了。靈山只在大地的外部，處處都是。
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