A Solitary Life

From my youth upwards my spirit walked not with the souls of men, nor looked upon the earth with human eyes; the thirst of their ambition was not mine, the aim of their existence was not mine; my joys, my griefs, my passions, and my powers made me a stranger; though I wore the form, I had no sympathy with breathing flesh, nor midst the creatures of clay that girded me was there anyone with whom I identified.

I said with men, and with the thoughts of men, I held but slight communion; but instead, my joy was in the wilderness, to breathe the difficult air of the iced mountain’s top, where the birds dare not build, nor insect’s wing flit over the herbless granite; or to plunge into the torrent, and to roll along over the swift whirl of the new breaking wave of river-stream, or ocean, in their flow.

In these my early strength exulted; or to follow through the night the moving moon, the stars and their development; or catch the dazzling lightnings till my eyes grew dim; or to look, listening, on the scattered leaves, while Autumn winds were at their evening song.

These were my pastimes, and to be alone; for if the beings, of whom I was one,— hating to be so,—crossed me in my path, I felt myself degraded back to them, and was all clay again. And then I dived, in my lone wanderings, to the caves of death, searching its cause in its effect; and drew from withered bones, and skulls, and heaped up dust, conclusions most forbidden.

Then I passed the nights of years in sciences, untaught save in the old time; and with time and toil, and terrible ordeal, and such penance as in itself has power upon the air and spirits that do compass air and earth, Space, and the peopled infinite, I made my eyes familiar with eternity, such as, before me, did the seekers of ancient wisdom, and those who from out of their humble dwellings raised civilizations most mighty.

And with my knowledge grew the thirst of knowledge, and the power and joy of this most bright intelligence, until now.

And now, at this moment, I dwell alone in my afflictions and as well as in my joys.