On page 82 of Thoreau’s book “Walden Civil Disobedience”, he writes a passage about the train that regularly passes by his home near Walden Pond. He begins by comparing the passing of the train to a sunrise. Usually, a sunrise is seen as something glorious, such as the start of a new day, or hope for the future. Some would even go as far and call it sublime. But Thoreau’s use of the word was quite the opposite. In his exact words, he stated: “I watched the passage of the morning cars with the same feeling that I do the rising sun, which is hardly more regular.” (Thoreau, p.82). What he means by this is that a sunrise is common, much like the roaring train that disturbs his quiet solitude almost every morning. It’s part of his daily ritual to see the sun rise and watch the train haul by with a cargo of passengers and merchandise.

“The stabler of the iron horse was up early this winter morning by the light of the stars amid the mountains, to fodder and harness his steed. Fire, too, was awakened thus early to put vital heat in him and get him off. If the enterprise were as innocent as it is early!” (Thoreau, p.82). The stabler Thoreau is referring to is the conductor, the one who powers the powerful machine. The iron horse is, of course, the train. What I find interesting about these few sentences is that Thoreau starts off the mood with the setting of a backdrop of stars and a peaceful assortment of mountains. But he builds up the excitement and uses a spark of fire to break out of nature and turn the focus onto man-made steel. It’s as if he wants to make clear the different between nature and the steam engine. His last sentence is exclaimed, as if he were laughing at the thought of an enterprise being innocent, which to be honest, I would agree with. An enterprise being innocent would be like making the claim that a male mule could produce viable offspring. It’s just not possible.

Thoreau goes on to describe the trains ability to plow through the ice and snow without having to rest unless it’s “Master” needed too, as if the train were all powerful and mighty. But occasionally the engine needs to blow off some extra steam. “Or perchance, at evening, I hear him in his stable blowing off the superfluous energy of the day, that he may calm his nerves and cool his liver and brain for a few hours of iron slumber.” (Thoreau, p.83). Superfluous simply means it’s unnecessary. The stabler burns off the rest of the energy he’s put into his steel horse for that day, and then let’s his companion rest. Thoreau exclaims once more: “If the enterprise were as heroic and commanding as it is protracted and unweried!” (Thoreau, p.83). The all mighty train he described before is but a ruse in the eyes of the passengers. Much like the train cannot live forever, the enterprise will eventually fall victim to having to let off some steam as well.