Nathaniel Hawthorne

Nathaniel Hawthorne

Summary

Portrait of Nathaniel Hawthorne Nathaniel Hawthorne Mosses from an Old Manse/The Old Manse (1854)

I have met with no other such pleasant trouble in the world as that of finding myself, with only the two or three mouths which it was my privilege to feed, the sole inheritor of the old clergyman's wealth of fruits. Throughout the summer there were cherries and currants; and then came Autumn, with his immense burden of apples, dropping them continually from his over-laden shoulders as he trudged along. In the stillest afternoon, if I listened, the thump of a great apple was audible, falling without a breath of wind, from the mere necessity of perfect ripeness.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Nathaniel Hawthorne Nathaniel Hawthorne Mosses from an Old Manse/The Old Manse (1854)

In August the grass is still verdant on the hills and in the valleys; the foliage of the trees is as dense as ever and as green; the flowers gleam forth in richer abundance along the margin of the river and by the stone walls and deep among the woods; the days, too, are as fervid now as they were a month ago; and yet in every breath of wind and in every beam of sunshine we hear the whispered farewell and behold the parting smile of a dear friend. There is a coolness amid all the heat, a mildness in the blazing noon. Not a breeze can stir but it thrills us with the breath of autumn.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Nathaniel Hawthorne Nathaniel Hawthorne Mosses from an Old Manse/The Old Manse (1854)

It is the age itself that writes newspapers and almanacs, which therefore have a distinct purpose and meaning at the time, and a kind of intelligible truth for all times; whereas most other works--being written by men who, in the very act, set themselves apart from their age--are likely to possess little significance when new, and none at all when old. Genius, indeed, melts many ages into one, and thus effects something permanent, yet still with a similarity of office to that of the more ephemeral writer. A work of genius is but the newspaper of a century, or perchance of a hundred centuries.
Source: Wikisource

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