Along this path in spring huddled
pale blue violets, of a blue that held sunlight, pure as his own eyes.
Masses also of sweet-fern grew at the side of these abundant bordering
violets, and spacious apartments of brown-floored pine groves flanked
the sweet-fern, or receded a little before heaps of blackberry
branches and simple flowers. My father's violets were the wonder of
the year to us. We never saw so many of these broad, pale-petaled ones
anywhere else, until the year of his death, when they greeted him with
their celestial color as he was borne into Sleepy Hollow, as if in
remembrance of his long companionship on The Wayside hill.
It is well with those who forget themselves in generous interest for
the hopes, possibilities, and spiritual loftiness of human beings all
over the world. Such men may remain poor, may never in life have the
full praise of their fellows; but they could easily give testimony as
to the delights of praise from God,--that which comes to our lips
after little spiritual victories, like spring water on a hot day, and
of which the workers in noble thought or adventure drink so deep.
These representative men, if they cheer their fancy with fair thoughts
of wide public approbation, choose the undying sort, that blooms like
the edelweiss beyond the dust of sudden success. Hawthorne worked hard
and nobly. Not even the mechanic who toils for his family all day, all
week-days of the year, and never swears at wife or child, toils more
nobly than this sensitive, warm-hearted, brave, recluse, much-seeing
man.
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