imaginable sweet musical hum,--as of a distant hive in May, which
perchance was the sound of their thinking. They had no idle thoughts,
and no one without could see their work, for their industry was not
as in knots and excrescences embayed.

But I find it difficult to remember them. They fade irrevocably
out of my mind even now while I speak and endeavor to recall them,
and recollect myself. It is only after a long and serious effort
to recollect my best thoughts that I become again aware of their
cohabitancy. If it were not for such families as this, I think I
should move out of Concord.

Thoreau: "WALKING."




CHAPTER I

THE LIBRARY

I had just finished my studies at Oxford, and was taking a brief
holiday from work before assuming definitely the management of the
estate. My father died when I was yet a child; my mother followed
him within a year; and I was nearly as much alone in the world as a
man might find himself.

I had made little acquaintance with the history of my ancestors.
Almost the only thing I knew concerning them was, that a notable
number of them had been given to study. I had myself so far