HENRY DAVID THOREAU – Spiritual and Prophetic Writings

Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862) was, as Jon Sweeney rightly puts it, 'an American prophet of deliberate simplicity, nonviolence, civil disobedience and care for the planet' – all themes of a modern ecological approach, way before their time. Tim Flinders also edited the equally good book in the series on John Muir, who was born some twenty years later. A biographical introduction is followed by a series of extracts under various headings on his life, essentials, the spiritual life, sacred Nature and God, religion and time. The essay on civil disobedience is reprinted in full along with fairly extensive extracts from his best-known book Walden. There is some repetition between the chapters, but many selections can be re-read with pleasure.

A surveyor by profession, Thoreau did just enough work to keep body and soul together, preferring to spend long and solitary periods in Nature, as he did with his experiment of living simply at Walden Pond. One of his self-professed strengths is 'to want but little' instead of multiplying his desires like modern consumers, and his real wealth lay in the quality of his experiences, often ecstatic, in Nature ('I was all alive, and inhabited my body with inexpressible satasfaction'). He could spend a whole morning contemplating in front of his cabin and regarded a walk (or saunter) of anything less than four hours a day as a deprivation. He responded to a higher dictate, seeking to discern spiritual laws beyond the physical. He placed a great deal of emphasis on fully living life in the present.

Thoreau was in many ways a monk as well as a mystic. Although he took no vows, he lived according to poverty, simplicity and obedience to his conscience – which on a famous occasion led him to withhold a tax and spend a night in prison. He treasured solitude and silence, remarking that much social intercourse is debilitating to the spirit: 'I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time. To be in company, even with the best, is soon wearisome and dissipating. I love to be alone.' In the woods he aimed 'to front only the essential facts of life' and to see things as they are: 'the question is not what you look at, but how you see.' Solitude also enabled him to attune to his inner voice. He adds that he wanted to learn what life had to teach, 'and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived….I wanted to live deep and suck out the all the marrow of life.' (Elsewhere he writes of extracting honey from the flower of the world).

Thoreau lived close to and was influenced by Emerson. He was devastated by the death of Emerson's son Walden, and all the more so by that of his brother John in January 1842. He reflects on death and rebirth in Nature: 'soon the ice will melt, and the blackbirds sing along the river which he frequented, as pleasantly as ever.' He reflects that Nature does not recognise death, finding new forms without loss: 'every blade in the field, every leaf in the forest, lays down its life in its season as beautifully as it was taken up…dead trees – sere leaves – dried grass and herbs – are not these a good part of our life? The law of their death is the law of new life.' This thought further encourages him to 'dive into some deep stream of thoughtful and devoted life, 'to lurk in crystalline thought like the trout under verdurous banks, where stray mankind should only see my bubble come to the surface…I wished for leisure and quiet to let my life flow in its proper channels, with its proper currents.' For us, this also entails striking a balance between earning a living and life.

Living in rural France as I now do, I appreciate more intensely the wealth contained in everyday simplicity – the wind in the trees, morning birdsong in the woods and the texture of water while swimming in the nearby lake. One morning we unexpectedly came across a water tortoise on the path – the dog was not at all sure what to make of it, barking uncertainly. Then I read about Thoreau finding a baby tortoise coming out of the earth and the way he is affected by the thought that the earth (and the sand for turtles) nurses these eggs. This suggests to him a certain vitality and intelligence in the earth: 'their mother is not merely inanimate and inorganic.' Reading Thoreau is refreshment for the spirit and a timely reminder of life's essential qualities and simplicity.