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NIGHT AND MOONLIGHT

:ght
and

FLIGHT
HENRY
D.

THOREAU

I,'

NEW YORK
HUBERT RUTHERFORD BROWN
l

^J

A?*77

^.hancing
I

to take a

memorable

walk by moonlight some years ago,

resolved to take more such walks,

and make acquaintance with another side of nature.

I

have done so.

According to Pliny, there is a stone

in Arabia called Selenites, "wherein
is

a white,

which

increases

and de-

creases with the

for the last year or

moon." My journal two has been sel-

enitic in this sense.

c
Is

o
like Central

not the midnight

Africa to

most of us ? Are we not

tempted to explore it

to penetrate

to the shores of its Lake Tchad, and

discover the source of its Nile, per-

chance theMountains of theMoon?

Who

knows what

fertility

and

beauty, moral and natural, are there

to be found ? In the Mountains of

the

Moon, in

the Central Africa of

is

the night, there

where

all

Niles

have their hidden heads. The expeditions

up the Nile

as yet

extend

but to the Cataracts, or perchance to

the mouth of the White Nile; but
is
it

the Black Nile that concerns us.

I shall

be a benefactor

if I

con-

quer some realms from the night,

if I

report to the gazettes anything

transpiring about us at that season

worthy of their attention

if I

can

show men that there

is

some beauty


C 3
are asleep

awake while they

if I

add to the domains of poetry.

Night
and
less

is certainly

more novel
I

profane than day.

I

soon

discovered that

was acquainted
as

only with its complexion, and as for

the

moon,

had seen her only

it

were through a crevice in a

occasionally.

shutter,

Why not walk a little

way

in her light?

Suppose you attend to the suggestions which the moon makes for

one month, commonly in vain will

;

it

not be very different from any-

thing in literature or religion? But

why not
if

study this Sanskrit?

has

What
weird

one

moon

come and gone

its

with

its

world of poetry,

teachings, its oracular suggestions

so divine a creature freighted with

hints for me, and I have not usedher!

One moon gone by unnoticed!

(43
I

think it was Dr. Chalmers

who

said, criticising

Coleridge, that for

his part

he wanted ideas which he

all

could see
as

round, and not such

at

he must look

away up

in the

heavens.
say,

Such a man, one would

would never look at the moon,

because she never turns her other

side to us.

The

light

which comes
their orbit

from

ideas

which have

as distant
is

from the earth, and which

cheering and enlighten-

no

less

ing to the benighted traveller than

that of the

moon

and

stars, is nat-

urally reproached or

nicknamed

as

moonshine by such. They are moonshine, are they? Well, then,

do your
is

night travelling

when

there
I

no

moon

to light you; but

will be

thankful for the light that reaches

me from

the star of least magni-

tude. Stars are lesser or greater only

C
as they

)
so.
I

appear to us
I

will be
as

thankful that
side

see so

much
one

one
of

of a

celestial idea,

side

the rainbow and the sunset sky.

Men

talk glibly
as
if

enough about
they

moonshine,

knew

its

qualities very well,

and despised

them
shine
this

as

owls might talk of sun!

none of your sunshine But word commonly means merely something which they do not un-

derstand

which they
it.

are

abed and
it

asleep to,

however much

may

be worth their while to be up and

awake to
It

must be allowed that the light of the moon, sufficient though it is

for the pensive walker,

and not

dis-

proportionate to the inner light we

have,
is

very inferior in quality and

intensity to that of the sun.

But

the

moon is

not to be judged alone

C63
by the quantity of light she sends
to us, but also by her influence

the earth and

its

inhabitants.

on "The

moon gravitates
the

toward the

earth,

and the earth reciprocally toward

moon." The poet who walks

by moonlight is conscious of a tide in his thought which is to be referred to lunar influence. I will en-

deavor to separate the tide in

my

thoughts from the current

tions of the day.
I

distrac-

hearers that

would warn they must not try

I

my my

thoughts by a daylight standard,

but endeavor to realize that
speak

out of the night. All depends on

your point of view.

Collection of Voyages,

In Drake's
says of

Wafer

Darien:

some albinos among the Indians of "They are quite white, but
is

their whiteness

like that

of a
fair

horse, quite different

from the

C7D
or pale European, as they have not
the least tincture of a blush or san-

guine complexion.

Their eyeis

brows

are milk-white, as

likewise

the hair of their heads, which is very

fine.
.
.

They seldom go abroad

and causing

in the daytime, the sun being dis-

agreeable to them,
their eyes,

which

are

weak and por-

ing, to water, especially if it shines

towards them, yet they see very

well by moonlight, from which
call

we

them moon-eyed."

Neither in our thoughts in these

moonlight walks, methinks, is there

"the least tincture of a blush or san-

guine complexion,' but

'

we

are in-

tellectually

and morally albinos,

children of
effect

Endymion, such

is

the

of conversing

much with the

moon.
I

complain of Arctic voyagers

C
that they

do not enough remind us

of the constant peculiar dreariness of the scenery, and the perpetual

twilight of the Arctic night. So he

whose theme is moonlight, though

he
the

may find it

difficult,
it

must, as

it

were, illustrate

with the light of

moon alone. Many men walk by day; few walk

night. It
is

by

a very different sea-

son.

Take a July night, for instance.

day fairly

About ten o'clock

sleep, and

when man forgotten the

is

is a-

beauty of moonlight

seen over
si-

lonely pastures where cattle are

lently feeding.
ties

On

all sides

novel-

present themselves. Instead of

the sun there are the moon and stars

instead of the

wood

thrush there

is

the whip-poor-will; instead of butterflies

in the

meadows,

fireflies,

winged sparks of fire!

Who would

C
deliberate
life

93
dewy

have believed it? What kind of cool

dwells in those

abodes associated with a spark of

fire?

So man has

fire

in his eyes, or

blood, or brain. Instead of singing

birds, the half-throttled

note of a

cuckoo flying over, the croaking of

frogs,

and the intenser dream of

But above all, the wonderbullfrog, ringing

crickets.

ful

trump of the

from Maine to Georgia. The potato

vines stand upright, the corn grows
apace, the bushes
fields are

loom, the grain-

boundless.

On

our open

river terraces,

once cultivated by

the Indian, they appear to occupy the ground like an army, their heads

nodding

in the breeze. Small trees

are seen in the midst,
as

and shrubs

overwhelmed

by an inundation.

The shadows of rocks and trees, and shrubs and hills, are more conspic-

C IO 3
uous than the objects themselves.

The

slightest irregularities in the

ground are revealed by the shadows,

and what the feet find comparatively

smooth appears rough and diverconsequence. For the same

is

sified in

reason the whole landscape

more

variegated and picturesque than by

day.

The

smallest recesses in the

rocks are

dim and cavernous

the

ferns in the wood appear of tropical

size.

The

sweet-fern and indigo in

overgrown wood-paths wet you

with

dew up

to your middle.

The

leaves of the shrub

if a liquid

oak are shining as

were flowing over them.

seen through the trees

The pools
light

are as full of light as the sky.

"The

of the day takes refuge in their

as the

bosoms,"

Purana says of the

ocean. All white objects are

more

remarkable than by day.

A distant

(")
cliff

looks like a phosphorescent

space

on

a hillside.

The woods

are

heavy and dark. Nature slumbers.

You
from
cesses

see the

moonlight

reflected
re-

particular

stumps in the

of the forest,

as if she selected

what to shine on. These small fractions of her light

remind one of

the plant called

moonseed
it

as if

the

moon were sowing

in such

places.

In the night the eyes are partly

closed or retire into the head. Other
senses take the lead.

The walker
and

is

guided as well by the sense of smell.

Every plant and

emits
in the
its

field

forest

odor now, swamp-pink

tansy in the

meadow and
is

road; and there

scent of corn

the peculiar dry

which has begun to

show

its tassels.

The

senses both

of hearing and smelling are more

C 12 3
alert.

We
of

hear the tinkling of

rills

which we never detected

before,

From time to
sides
hills,

time, high

up on the you pass through a

air,

stratum of warm
has

a blast

which

come up from the

It tells

sultry plains

of noon.

of the day, of sun-

ny noontide hours and banks, of the laborer wiping his brow and the bee humming amid flowers. It is an air in which work has been done which men have breathed. It circulates about from woodside to hillside like a dog that has lost

its

master,

now

that the sun

is

The rocks retain all night the warmth of the sun which they have
gone.
absorbed.

And so does the sand.

it

If

you
a

dig a few inches into

bed.

you find

warm

You

lie

on

a rock in a pasture
hill at

on your back on the top

of some bare

midnight, and

C
speculate

on the height of the starry canopy. The stars are the jewels of
the night, and perchance surpass

anything which day has to show.

companion with whom I was sailing one very windy but bright moonlight night, when the stars
were few and
faint,

thought that

man

could get along with them,

re-

though he was considerably

duced in his circumstances
that never failed.

that

they were a kind of bread and cheese

No wonder that there have been

astrologers, that

some have conDubar-

ceived that they were personally

related to particular stars.
tas, as

translated

by Sylvester, says

hell
"not believe that the great architect

With

all

these

fires

the heavenly arches

decked

'

C
Only
for

3
glister-

show, and with these

ing shields,

awake poor shepherds, watching

the
fields.'

in

Hell
"not believe that the
least flower

which pranks

Our garden
banks,

borders, or our

common
warm-

And

the least stone, that in her

ing lap

Our mother earth doth covetously wrap, Hath some peculiar virtue of its own,

And

that the glorious stars of heav'n

have none."

And Sir Walter Raleigh well says,

"The
light,
stars are

instruments of

far

greater use than to give an obscure

and for

men

to gaze

on

after

sunset;" and he quotes Plotinus as

affirming that they 'are significant,

but not

efficient ;"
(f

and also Augusregit inferiora

tine as saying,

Deus

C 15 3
corpora per superiora:"

God

rules

the bodies below by those above.

But best of all is

this

which another

writer has expressed: "Sapiens ad-

juvabit opus astrorum

agricola terrae
assisteth the

quemadmodum

naturam /^ a wise man

work of the stars as the husbandman helpeth the nature of

soil.

the

It

does not concern men who are

it is

asleep in their beds, but

very

important to the
the

traveller,

whether
is

moon shines
is

brightly or

ob-

scured. It

not easy to

realize the

serene joy of all the earth, when she

commences
edly, unless

to shine unobstruct-

you have often been abroad alone in moonlight nights. She seems to be waging continual
war with the clouds
half.

in

your be-

Yet we fancy the clouds to be

her foes also. She

comes on magni-

163
re-

fying her dangers by her light,

vealing, displaying

them in all their

hugeness and blackness, then suddenly casts them behind into the
light concealed,

and goes her way

triumphant through a small space

of clear sky.
In short, the

moon

traversing,

or appearing to traverse, the small

clouds which

lie

in her way,

now

obscured by them,

now

easily dis-

sipating and shining through them,

makes the drama of the moonlight

night to
all

watchers and night-

travellers. Sailors

speak of it as the
clouds.

moon

eating

up the

The
all

traveller all alone, the

moon

alone, except for his

sympathy,

overcoming with incessant victory

whole squadrons of clouds above

the forests and lakes and
hills.

When

she

is

obscured he so sym-

C
a

i-7

pathizes with her that he could whip

dog

for her relief, as Indians do.

When she enters

on

a clear field

of

great extent in the heavens,

and

shines unobstructedly, he

is

glad.

And when
through
foes,

she has fought her

way

all

the squadron of her

and rides majestic in a clear sky

unscathed, and there are

no more

any obstructions in her path, he

cheerfully and confidently pursues
his way, and rej oices in his heart, and

the cricket also seems to express

joy in

its

song.

How

insupportable would be
its

the days, if the night with

dews
re-

and darkness did not come to

store the

drooping world. As the

shades begin to gather around us,

our primeval instincts are aroused,

and we

steal forth

from our

lairs,

like the inhabitants

of the jungle,

183
and brood-

in search of those silent

ing thoughts which are the natural

prey of the

intellect.
is

Richter says that "the earth

every day overspread with the veil

of night for the same reason

as the
viz.,

cages of birds are darkened,

that

we may

the

more

readily ap-

prehend the higher harmonies of

thought in the hush and quiet
of darkness. Thoughts which day
turns into

smoke and mist

stand

about us in the night

flames
;

as light

and

even as the column which

fluctuates

above the

crater

of Vesu-

vius, in the

daytime appears a pillar

ofcloud,butbynightapillaroffire."

There are nights in

this climate

of such serene and majestic beauty,

so medicinal and fertilizing to the
spirit,

that

methinks a sensitive
to

nature

would not devote them


C i9 3
oblivion, and perhaps there
is

no

man

but would be better and wiser

for spending

them
it

out-of-doors,

though he should sleep all the next

day to pay for

should

sleep an

Endymion sleep,
pressed
it

as the ancients ex-

nights which warrant

the Grecian epithet ambrosial, when,

as in the land

of Beulah, the atmos-

phere
rance,

is

charged with

dewy

frag-

and with music, and we take

our repose and have our dreams

awake

when the moon, not

sec-

ondary to the sun

"gives us his blaze again,

Void of its

flame, and sheds a softer day.

Now through the passing clouds she

seems to stoop,

Now up the pure cerulean rides sublime."

Diana still hunts in the New England sky.

C 20 3
"In Heaven queen she
spheres.
is

among
all

the

She, mistress-like,

makes

things to

be pure.
Eternity in her oft change she bears She Beauty is by her the fair endure.
;

Time wears her not

iot

she doth his char-

guide
is

Mortality below her orb

placed;

By her By her

the virtues of the stars

down
cast."

slide
is

Virtue's perfect

image

The Hindoos compare the moon

to a saintly being

who

has reached

the last stage of bodily existence.

Great restorer of antiquity, great

enchanter
!

In a mild night

when

the harvest or hunter's moon shines

unobstructedly, the houses in our
village, whatever architect they may

have had by day, acknowledge only

a master.
as

The village
forest.

street is

then
old

wild as the

New and

C 21 3
things are confounded.
I

know not
ruins

whether

am

sitting

on the

of a wall, or on the material which

is

to

compose a new one. Nature is

an instructed and impartial teacher,

spreading no crude opinions, and
flattering

none; she will be neither

radical

nor conservative. Consider

civil,

the moonlight, so
age!

yet so sav-

The
to
It

more proportionate omJcnowledge than that of day. is no more dusky in ordinary

light
is

nights than our minds' habitual

atis

mosphere, and the moonlight

as bright as

our most illuminated

moments

are.

" In such a night let

Till

me

abroad remain

morning

breaks,

and

all 's

con-

fused again."

Of what significance the light

of

C 22 3

day, if it

is

not the reflection of an

inward dawn?
is

to

what purpose

the veil of night withdrawn, if

the morning reveals nothing to the

soul
ing.

It is

merely garish and

glar-

When

Ossian, in his address to

the sun, exclaims

" Where has darkness
its

dwelling?

Where is the cavernous home of the

stars,

When thou quickly followest their

steps,

Pursuing them like a hunter in the

sky

Thou climbing the

tains?"

lofty hills,

They descending on barren moun-

who does not in his thought accompany the

stars to their

"cavernous

home" "descending" with them"on

barren mountains"
?

C 23 )
Nevertheless, even

by night the

sky is blue and not black, for we see

through the shadow of the earth into the distant atmosphere of day,

where the sunbeams

are revelling.

Four hundred
direclion

copies printed

under

the

of Bruce Rogers at the press

of William Edwin Rudge, Mount

Vernon,

New

York, January, 1921.

is

The wood-cut
Ivins.

by Florence

Wyman