On the death of a friend, we should consider that the fates through confidence have devolved on us the task of a double living, that we have henceforth to fulfill the promise of our friend’s life also, in our own, to the world.
—Henry David Thoreau.
He was allying himself to science, for what was science but the absence of prejudice backed by the presence of money? His life would be full of machinery, which was the antidote to superstition, which was in turn too much the consequence, or at least the exhalation, of archives.
…he brought out the beauty of the chance for him—there before him like a temptress painted by Titian—to do a little quiet writing.