{"id":"01KG8AM8JZYK02HTF7GH1TCA8A","cid":"bafkreibpmpvyk747rbyjvcledqc5kggkjffsfkapcymp62gbhumn2cclxm","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":3788,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:26.981Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 5","source_file":"01KG89J1FFTGRE9J93Z3K29NGY","start_line":3728,"text":"come up to the idea of his reader. But that dust of which our bodies are\r\ncomposed, how can it fitly express the nobler intelligences among us?\r\nWith reverence be it spoken, that not even in the case of one deemed\r\nmore than man, not even in our Saviour, did his visible frame betoken\r\nanything of the augustness of the nature within. Else, how could those\r\nJewish eyewitnesses fail to see heaven in his glance!\r\n\r\nIt is curious how a man may travel along a country road, and yet miss\r\nthe grandest or sweetest of prospects by reason of an intervening hedge,\r\nso like all other hedges, as in no way to hint of the wide landscape\r\nbeyond. So has it been with me concerning the enchanting landscape in\r\nthe soul of this Hawthorne, this most excellent Man of Mosses. His Old\r\nManse has been written now four years, but I never read it till a day or\r\ntwo since. I had seen it in the book-stores--heard of it often--even had\r\nit recommended to me by a tasteful friend, as a rare, quiet book,\r\nperhaps too deserving of popularity to be popular. But there are so many\r\nbooks called ‘excellent,’ and so much unpopular merit, that amid the\r\nthick stir of other things, the hint of my tasteful friend was\r\ndisregarded, and for four years the Mosses on the Old Manse never\r\nrefreshed me with their perennial green. It may be, however, that all\r\nthis while the book, likewise, was only improving in flavour and body.\r\nAt any rate, it so chanced that this long procrastination eventuated in\r\na happy result. At breakfast the other day, a mountain girl, a cousin of\r\nmine, who for the last two weeks has every morning helped me to\r\nstrawberries and raspberries, which, like the roses and pearls in the\r\nfairy tale, seemed to fall into the saucer from those strawberry-beds,\r\nher cheeks--this delightful creature, this charming Cherry says to\r\nme--‘I see you spend your mornings in the haymow; and yesterday I found\r\nthere Dwight’s _Travels in New England_. Now I have something far better\r\nthan that, something more congenial to our summer on these hills. Take\r\nthese raspberries, and then I will give you some moss.’ ‘Moss!’ said I.\r\n‘Yes, and you must take it to the barn with you, and good-bye to\r\nDwight.’\r\n\r\nWith that she left me, and soon returned with a volume, verdantly bound,\r\nand garnished with a curious frontispiece in green; nothing less than a\r\nfragment of real moss, cunningly pressed to a fly-leaf. ‘Why, this,’\r\nsaid I, spilling my raspberries, ‘this is the _Mosses from an Old\r\nManse_.’ ‘Yes,’ said cousin Cherry, ‘yes, it is that flowery Hawthorne.’\r\n‘Hawthorne and Mosses,’ said I, ‘no more it is morning: it is July in\r\nthe country: and I am off for the barn.’\r\n\r\nStretched on that new-mown clover, the hill-side breeze blowing over me\r\nthrough the wide barn door, and soothed by the hum of the bees in the\r\nmeadows around, how magically stole over me this Mossy Man! and how\r\namply, how bountifully, did he redeem that delicious promise to his\r\nguests in the Old Manse, of whom it is written: ‘Others could give them\r\npleasure, or amusement, or instruction--these could be picked up\r\nanywhere; but it was for me to give them rest--rest, in a life of\r\ntrouble! What better could be done for those weary and world-worn\r\nspirits?... what better could be done for anybody who came within our\r\nmagic circle than to throw the spell of a tranquil spirit over him?’ So\r\nall that day, half-buried in the new clover, I watched this Hawthorne’s\r\n‘Assyrian dawn, and Paphian sunset and moonrise from the summit of our\r\neastern hill.’\r\n\r\nThe soft ravishments of the man spun me round about in a web of dreams,\r\nand when the book was closed, when the spell was over, this wizard\r\n‘dismissed me with but misty reminiscences, as if I had been dreaming of\r\nhim.’\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 5"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJVQAZF49HK19VVYQ1DXW","peer_type":"segment","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1FFTGRE9J93Z3K29NGY","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AM8K0HN4CF4Q3YH21DQKY","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AM8K4PJ1P8TDMEW1C466Q","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:31.327Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:38.326Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}