The other thing that happened in 1883 was my reading of Thoreau's Walden.
We lived within two hundred yards of the sea, and its voice was in our ears night and day.
Great success in examinations does naturally not as a rule go with originality of thought.
Early in 1888 one or two of us got together to establish our own Sheffield Socialist Society.
My ideas had been taking a socialistic shape for many years; but they were lacking in definite outline.
I might have simply settled down into an armchair literary life. I really don't know exactly why I didn't.
Where there had been only jeers or taunts at first, crowds come to listen with serious and sympathetic men.
IN April 1882 my father died; and I was at once whirled out of my land of dreams into a very different sphere.
With my somewhat vague aspiring mind, to be imprisoned in the rude details of a most material life was often irksome.
Whatever the practical value of the Walden experiment may be, there is no question that the book is one of the most vital and pithy ever written.