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- 11703
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- 2026-01-30T20:48:52.924Z
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- 11641
- text
- people who deal in Transcendentals. On the contrary, we seem to see that
the Utilitarians,--the every-day world's people themselves, far
transcend those inferior Transcendentalists by their own
incomprehensible worldly maxims. And--what is vastly more--with the one
party, their Transcendentals are but theoretic and inactive, and
therefore harmless; whereas with the other, they are actually clothed in
living deeds.
The highly graveling doctrine and practice of the world, above cited,
had in some small degree been manifested in the case of Pierre. He
prospectively possessed the fee of several hundred farms scattered over
part of two adjoining counties; and now the proprietor of that popular
periodical, the Gazelle Magazine, sent him several additional dollars
for his sonnets. That proprietor (though in sooth, he never read the
sonnets, but referred them to his professional adviser; and was so
ignorant, that, for a long time previous to the periodical's actually
being started, he insisted upon spelling the Gazelle with a _g_ for the
_z_, as thus: _Gagelle_; maintaining, that in the Gazelle connection,
the _z_ was a mere impostor, and that the _g_ was soft; for he was a
judge of softness, and could speak from experience); that proprietor was
undoubtedly a Transcendentalist; for did he not act upon the
Transcendental doctrine previously set forth?
Now, the dollars derived from his ditties, these Pierre had always
invested in cigars; so that the puffs which indirectly brought him his
dollars were again returned, but as perfumed puffs; perfumed with the
sweet leaf of Havanna. So that this highly-celebrated and world-renowned
Pierre--the great author--whose likeness the world had never seen (for
had he not repeatedly refused the world his likeness?), this famous
poet, and philosopher, author of "_The Tropical Summer: a Sonnet_;"
against whose very life several desperadoes were darkly plotting (for
had not the biographers sworn they would have it!); this towering
celebrity--there he would sit smoking, and smoking, mild and
self-festooned as a vapory mountain. It was very involuntarily and
satisfactorily reciprocal. His cigars were lighted in two ways: lighted
by the sale of his sonnets, and lighted by the printed sonnets
themselves.
For even at that early time in his authorial life, Pierre, however vain
of his fame, was not at all proud of his paper. Not only did he make
allumettes of his sonnets when published, but was very careless about
his discarded manuscripts; they were to be found lying all round the
house; gave a great deal of trouble to the housemaids in sweeping; went
for kindlings to the fires; and were forever flitting out of the
windows, and under the door-sills, into the faces of people passing the
manorial mansion. In this reckless, indifferent way of his, Pierre
himself was a sort of publisher. It is true his more familiar admirers
often earnestly remonstrated with him, against this irreverence to the
primitive vestments of his immortal productions; saying, that whatever
had once felt the nib of his mighty pen, was thenceforth sacred as the
lips which had but once saluted the great toe of the Pope. But hardened
as he was to these friendly censurings, Pierre never forbade that ardent
appreciation of "The Tear," who, finding a small fragment of the
original manuscript containing a dot (_tear_), over an _i_ (_eye_),
esteemed the significant event providential; and begged the
distinguished favor of being permitted to have it for a brooch; and
ousted a cameo-head of Homer, to replace it with the more invaluable
gem. He became inconsolable, when being caught in a rain, the dot
(_tear_) disappeared from over the _i_ (_eye_); so that the strangeness
and wonderfulness of the sonnet was still conspicuous; in that though
the least fragment of it could weep in a drought, yet did it become all
tearless in a shower.
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