Alexander Ireland - In Memoriam Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1882

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Ralph Waldo Emerson

Personal Recollections AND

Extracts from unpublished Letters

BY

ALBMnder Ireland.

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OF THE BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME

SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF

HENRY W. SAGE 1891

Cornell University Library

PS In

1631.165

memoriam. Ralph Waldo

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http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022110120

3n flDemoriam.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON RECOLLECTIONS OF HIS VISITS TO ENGLAND IN

1833.

1847-8,

1872-3,

AND

EXTRACTS FROM UNPUBLISHED LETTERS.

ALEXANDER IRELAND.

Plutarch says that when Cicero, as a young man, visited the oracle at Delphi, the advice given him was to make his own genius, not the opinions of others, the guide of his life.

One who of such a height hath built his And reared the dwelling of his thoughts As neither fear nor hope can shake Of his resolved powers His

nor pierce to wrong settled peace, nor to disturb the same ;

Which makes,

He

mind,

so strong, the frame

that whatsoever here befalls,

in the region of himself remains.

Samuel Daniel

(1562-1619).

LONDON: SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO. EDINBURGH: DAVID DOUGLAS. GLASGOW: DAVID M. MAIN. MANCHESTER: J. E. CORNISH. LIVERPOOL J. CORNISH & SONS. BIRMINGHAM CORNISH BROTHERS. :

:

1882.

5h

[The substance of

this

Examiner and Times

Tlfeemoriam.

Memoir appeared of 29th April, the

of Mr. Emerson's death reached reprinted, with additions,

three times

its

Bowdon, Cheshire,

May

20th, 1882.

it

Manchester

after the

England.

which extend

original length.]

Inglewood,

in the

day

It

to

is

news

now

more than

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

THE

grave has scarcely closed over the remains of the

great

man whose renown

firmly established than that of

when the

over the world

all

any Englishman of

is

more

his time,

comes to us that the foremost thinker and philosopher of America has joined the ranks of the majority. America has produced great soldiers, distinguished men of science, and poets of world-wide fame, but it is not too much neWiS

to say that since the Declaration of

has so powerfully influenced the

Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Independence no man

intellect

On Thursday

of the nation as

night, April 27th, at

nine o'clock, at his house in Concord, Mass., surrounded by those dearest to him, this great leaves a widow, a son

man

peaceably departed.

He

—Dr. Edward Emerson, of Concord,—and

two daughters. The eldest, Ellen—who was his tender and faithful companion whenever he. left home, his amanuensis in his later years, and, as he sometimes lovingly called her, his "

memory "

to Colonel

numerous

—

is

unmarried.

W. H.

family.

The

youngest, Edith,

is

married

Forbes, of Milton Hill, Mass., and has a

When they visited England in

1

872, bringing

their children with them, Mr. Carlyle sat for a likeness, with

Emerson's grandson, Ralph, then a thirteen, standing

by

his knee.

fine

boy of twelve or

•

IN MEMORIAM:

4

Ralph Waldo Emerson, the most

original

and independent

thinker and greatest moral teacher that America has produced,

was born

at

Boston

of Puritanism.

As

He

in 1803.

far

back

was, a legitimate product

as his family

is

represented by ministers of the old faith of

founder of

it

traced

New

it

has been

England, the

having journeyed thither with his congregation

and each of these was associated with some phase of that faith, whether Calvinism, Universalism, or Unitarianism. His ancestry on both sides forms an indispensable explanation and background from Gloucestershire,

in

England,

in 1635,

ministers

of every page of his writings. intellectual, eloquent,

The Emerson

with a strong individuality of character,

robust and vigorous in their thinking thropic.

family were

—practical and

philan-

His father was the Rev. William Emerson, pastor of

the First (Unitarian) Church of Boston, and was noted for his vigorous mind, earnestness of purpose,

manner. years old.

The boy

lost his

father

His mother was a

woman

modest, serene, and very devout.

and gentleness of

when he was but

eight

of great sensibility,

"She was possessed of

a thoroughly sincere nature, devoid of

all

sentimentalism,

—

and of a temper the most even and placid (one of her sons said that in his boyhood, when she came from her room in the it seemed to him as if she always came from communion with God) knew how to guide the affairs of her house, had the sweetest authority, and manners of natural grace and dignity. Her dark, liquid eyes, from which old age did not take away the expression, were among the remembrances of all on whom they ever rested." The young Emerson was very carefully educated, and entered Harvard University at an early age, where he graduated in 1 82 1. Every graduating class in that institution elects a poet and an orator for its celebration, which is called " class-day," and Emerson was chosen as the poet of his class. In his junior year he received a Bowdoin prize for an essay on "The Character of Socrates," and in his senior year he again

morning,

—

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. gained a

prize,

"The

subject being

his

Among

Ethical

Philosophy."

already

distinguished

especially for a certain

his

charm

Present

State of

companions

he was and more

attainments,

literary

for

5

in the delivery of his addresses.

After graduation he entered upon his studies in the Unitarian Divinity College connected with the University.

After he had

graduated from the Divinity College and been "approbated"

he was led to visit the

for the ministry,

far

South

—

—South Caro-

and Florida on account of impaired health. On his he was settled as the junior pastor of a large congregation in Boston, and was afterwards appointed chaplain to lina

.return,

His preaching attracted considerable

the State Legislature. attention,

though

it

Many

brought no crowd.

an old hearer

afterwards remembered these discourses in reading his essays.

A venerable

lady of those days, a

when asked what was

tion,

minister, said

:

"

On

his

member

of his congrega-

chief characteristic

as

a

God's law doth he meditate day and

night."

Finding himself unable to continue to hold the creed and perform the

rites

of the sect with which bs was connected, he

He

decided to relinquish his pulpit.

gave his reasons

for this

The Rev. Henry Ware, whose

in a remarkable discourse.

col-

league Emerson was, addressed to him a friendly expostulation In reply Emerson

against the doctrines of this discourse. said

:

"

What you

say about the discourse

what I combined with

is

just

might expect from your truth and charity, your known opinions. I am not a stick or a stone, as one said in the old time, and could not feel but pain in saying some things in that place and presence which I supposed

would meet with factors of mine.

dissent, I

may say,

my

Yet, as

of dear friends and bene-

conviction

is

perfect in the sub-

stantial truth of the doctrines of this discourse, and

very new, you will see at once that

be spoken

portant that

it

nobleness of

my

;

friends so

and

I

mean

it

is

not

must appear very im-

thought

I

could not pay the

a compliment as to suppress

IN MEMORIAM:

6

my

opposition to their supposed views, out of fear of offence.

—

I would rather say to them these things look thus to me, to you otherwise. Let us say our uttermost word, and let the all-pervading truth, as it surely will, judge between us.

Either of us would,

Meanwhile,

error.

doubt

I

be willingly apprised of his

be admonished by

shall

I

not,

this

experience

of your thought to revise with great care the address before it

is

your

printed,

and

I

you

heartily thank

and

tried toleration

for this expression

of

This was followed by a

love."

sermon against Emerson's views, a copy of which was sent to him, with a letter, to which he replied. A few sentences may "

be given from the reply. less able

There

is

no scholar

than myself to be a polemic.

account of myself,

if

challenged.

I

I

less willing or

could not give an

could not possibly give

you one of the arguments you cruelly hint at, on which any For I do not know what arguments I delight in are in reference to any expression of a thought. but if you ask me why I dare say so, telling what I think or why it is so, I am the most helpless of mortal men. When

doctrine of mine stands.

;

I

see myself suddenly raised to the importance of a heretic,

I

am

very uneasy when

such a personage, comers.

I

who

I is

certainly shall

advert to the supposed duties of

make good do no such

to

his thesis against all

thing.

I

shall read

what you and other good men write, as I have always done, glad when you speak my thoughts, and skipping the page I shall go on just as before, seeing that has nothing for me. and telling what I see." This was the date can, I whatever of his emancipation from the trammels of creed.

Shaking and authority, he stepped, as he said, into the free and open world to utter his private thought to all who were willing to hear it. Thenceforth off all traditions of creed

he became "the chartered libertine" of thought, as he sometimes humorously called himself.

Emerson's in

earliest

appearance in

an address, "The Right

Hand

print,

we

believe,

was

of Fellowship," delivered

— RALPH WALDO EMERSON. at the ordination

of H. B.

"Sermon and Letter"

He

finally

Goodwin

j

and

(1830),

his

next,

Second Church, Boston (1832). bade farewell to his Boston parish in December, to the

and early in 1833 embarked on his first voyage to Europe. up the Mediterranean in a vessel bound for Sicily, and went as far eastward as Malta. Returning through Italy, where he dined with Walter Savage Landor in Florence finding him " noble and courteous, living in a cloud of 1832,

He

sailed

pictures

at his villa Gherardesca"

—he

visited France,

and

London.

There he saw Wellington in Westminster Abbey at the funeral of Wilberforce, and called on Coleridge/in August of the same year (1833) he made July reached

in

a

pilgrimage

to

Scotland.

He

remained

Edinburgh, and delivered a discourse there, recollections of

which happily

some days

in the Unitarian

still

survive.

in

Chapel

Desirous of

personally acknowledging to Carlyle his indebtedness for the spiritual benefit

he had derived from certain of

his writings

notably the concluding passage in the article on German Literature, his

and the paper

way, after

the desolate

many

hills

entitled "Characteristics"

—he found

hindrances, to Craigenputtock,

among

of the parish of Dunscore, in Dumfriesshire,

where Carlyle was then living with

his bright

and accom-

plished wife in perfect solitude, without a person to speak

to,

There he spent twentyand became acquainted with him at once. They walked over miles of barren hills, and talked upon all the great The meeting is questions which interested them most. or a post office within seven miles. four hours,

described in his " English Traits," published twenty-three years

and the account of it there given is reprinted by Froude in his " Life of Carlyle," &c, lately issued. Carlyle Mr. and his wife ever afterwards spoke of that visit as if it had been the coming of an angel. They regarded Emerson as a afterwards,

"beautiful apparition" in their solitude. to a friend a few days after this

of

it,

visit,

A letter exists, written which gives an account

as well as of one to Wordsworth.

This

letter,

written

1

IN MEMORIAM:

8

on the spur of the moment, and not intended contains

some

of these two the "

:

Appendix

The

details not to It is

visits.

to this

for publication*

be found in the published account

now

printed for the

first

time in

Mr. Froude says of this

Memoir.

visit

young American having been so affected have sought him out on the Dunscore moors, was a homage of the kind which he (Carlyle) could especially value and appreciate. The acquaintance then begun to their mutual pleasure ripened into a deep friendship, by

fact itself of a

his writings as to

which has remained unclouded

in spite

of opinion throughout their working

of wide divergencies

lives,

and continues warm

moment when I am writing these words (June when the labours of both of them are over, and they wait in age and infirmity to be called away from as ever at the 27,

1880),

a world to which they have given freely

that they had

all

to give."

Emerson has the eminent

literary

man

distinction

welcome "Sartor Resartus."

The book was

at Craigenputtock, but could find

At

last it

appeared

chapters, in

of having been the

first

of either continent to appreciate and

in

written in 183

no publisher

" Fraser's

Magazine

for

"

two

years.

in successive

1833-4 (Carlyle having to accept reduced

re-

was not till 1838 that it appeared as a While subscribers were complaining of the " intolerable balderdash " appearing from month to month in the magazine under the title of " Sartor Resartus," and threatening to withdraw their subscriptions if that " nonsense" did not speedily cease, Emerson was quietly collecting the successive numbers with a view to its publication on compleIn 1836 the American edition of the work appeared in tion. muneration); and

volume

in

it

England.

Boston, printed,

we

believe, at

Emerson's

risk.

The

publi-

was sufficiently successful to yield a profit of ÂŁ150, which Emerson sent to Carlyle the most important sum which he had, up to that time, received for any of his works. In Emerson's modest preface to the book (on its first appearcation

—

— RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

\

ance in the shape of a volume),

Words

— the

power of

9

occur these memorable

earliest cordial recognition of the originality

this

now famous work

and

:

We believe,

no book has been published for many years, written in .a more which discovers an equal mastery over all the riches of the language. The author makes ample amends for the occasional eccentricity of his genius, not only by frequent bursts of pure splendour, but by the wit and sense which never fail him. But what will chiefly commend the book to the discerning reader is the manifest design of the work, which is a Criticism upon the Spirit of the Age, we had almost said, of the hour, in which we live ; sincere style of idiomatic English, or

—

most just and novel light, the present aspects of Religion, Politics, Literature, Arts, and Social Life. Under all his gaiety, the writer has an earnest meaning, and discovers an insight into the manifold wants and tendencies The philanthropy of human nature, which is very rare among our popular authors. and the purity of moral sentiment, which inspire the work, will find their way to exhibiting, in the

the heart of every lover of virtue.

A similar service was

done by Emerson some years later in a few prefatory remarks to the first American reprint of Carlyle's Miscellaneous Reviews and Essays. His health, which had always been delicate, and which in 1832 had been greatly affected by domestic bereavement (the death of his first wife) and the worry of controversy, was quite

by the voyage and his subsequent travels. After his return to America he gave lectures before the Boston Lyceum, —his subjects being: "Water;" "Michael Angelo;" "Milton;" "Luther;" "George Fox;" "Edmund Burke;" also two lectures on " Italy," and three on "The Relation of Man to the Globe." In August, 1835, in a lecture before the American Institute of .Instruction, his subject was the " Means of Inspiring a Taste for English Literature." In September of the same year he gave restored

a historical address in Concord,

it

being the second centennial

anniversary of the incorporation of that town.

\

In September,

1835, he married Miss Lydia Jackson, of Plymouth. Her family was descended from one of the earliest Plymouth settlers.

I® December, 1835, he gave a course often lectures in Boston The first two were on the earlier orr'' English Literature." writers,

and

all

and there were others on Chaucer, Bacon, Shakespeare, the subsequent great writers.

In the last lecture, he

— IN MEMORIAM:

io

touched upon Byron, Scott, Dugald Stewart, Mackintosh, and

He placed Coleridge among the sages of the In succeeding seasons he gave courses on " The

Coleridge.

world.

Philosophy of History "

The

is

Age

;

" "

hoped that

to be

will

in

Present

;

"

"Human

The Times

all

"Human

Culture;" ;

and other

"

Life;"

subjects.

It

these lectures, hitherto unprinted,

be given to the world.

At

a meeting held in Concord

on the completion of a monument to commemorate

1836,

the Concord

hymn was

fight, a

written for the occasion

by

Emerson, and read by Dr. Ripley, and sung to the tune of the " Old Hundred."

It contained the

immortal

Here once the embattled farmers

And

fired the shot

lines

:

stood,

heard round the world.

In 1835 he was reading Plato and Plutarch more diligently

than ever, and began to study Plotinus and other writers of the same class.

He

also read the writings of the

mystics, as well as of the English idealists, the

George Herbert (which he keenly

relished),

German

poems of

and the pi^se

works of Ralph Cudworth, Henry More, Milton, Jeremy In 1836 appeared "Nature," a

Taylor, and Coleridge.

volume of only

little

ninety-five pages, the contents consisting of

an Introduction, and eight chapters,

entitled, Nature,

Com-

modity, Beauty, Language, Discipline, Idealism, Spirit, and Prospects.

The

spirit of its

teachings

is

that nature exists

His ideas are

only for the unfolding of a spiritual being.

volume more systematically developed than elsethus summarised " Every natural a symbol of some spiritual fact. Nature becomes a

this little

where. fact

is

in

They have been

means of expression

:

—

for these spiritual truths

which could not otherwise be interpreted.

moral laws when applicable to man

and experiences,

Its laws, also, are

and so they become to man the language of the Divine Will. Because the physical laws become moral laws the moment they are related to

human

conduct, Nature has a

of beauty or language

—

much

in that it is

;

higher purpose than that

a Discipline.

It is in these

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

II

views that Emerson's resemblance to Swedenborg in his caring for

This truly seminal book met with but

spiritual realities."

a small years

sale,

—only

500 copies being disposed of in twelve

The first edition

!

America.

An

apparent,

is

Nature only as a symbol and revelation of

of

it is

now one of the

rarest

account of the work

books

in

is given by Ralph Waldo Emerson His Writings, and Philosophy," to which the reader is

Cooke Life,

work,

in his recent

referred.

An

George Willis

"

:

oration, entitled

"

Man

Thinking," delivered

before the Phi-Beta-Kappa Society, Cambridge, in 1837, and

an address to the Senior Divinity Class, Cambridge, 1838, also won him wide notice for their originality, boldness, and

They exercised an immense influence on the youthful mind of New England. It was of this address that a friend " Henceforth the young men of New of Emerson's said will have a fifth Gospel in their New Testaments." England

power.

:

He

—

delivered "Literary Ethics," an oration, in 1838.

"The

In 1840 he started

magazine devoted to

Dial," a

the discussion of mooted questions in philosophy, literature,

and

history.

At one

of

period

existence

its

Margaret

and George Ripley were connected with its manThrough this organ Emerson, Ripley, Theodore Parker, Henry D. Thoreau (the most unique of American Fuller

agement.

literary personalities), J.

S.

Dwight,

Fuller, C. P. Cranch, J. F. Clarke, T.

W. H.

Channing, Miss

H. Hedge,

J.

R. Lowell,

Miss Peabody, A. B. Alcott, Ellery Channing, Edward, Charles Chauncey Emerson, Cabot, and others, culture,

—gave

is

odd numbers of scribed -for

one

of

and

Mr.

all

C. Lane,

C.

A.

A

years— 184 1-4.

now an almost it

Dana,

J.

C.

of them persons of high and varied

utterance to their thoughts.

existed for four four volumes

—

and

complete

authorship of each article

copy exists English is

of the

unattainable rarity.

fetch a high price.

Emerson's

The magazine

complete set

An in

friends,

indicated

in

Even

originally sub-

the in

his

library

which

of the-

own hand-

IN MEMORIAM:

12

In

writing.

"The Dial" were published

"

Man

the Reformer,"

"English Reformers," "The Young American," "Lectures on the Times " (including " The Conservative," and " The

The Senses and The

Thoughts "Thoughts on Art," "The Tragic," "The Comic," "Prayers," "Letter to the Readers of 'The

Transcendentalist"), "

on Modern

Soul,"

"

Literature,"

Dial'" (on Railroads, Air- Roads, Communities, Culture, Position of

Young Men,

The

Bettina von Arnim, and Theodore

Mandt's Account of Holderlin's "Hyperion").

Under the

heading "Ethnical Scriptures" were given from time to time

and

extracts from the most notable Oriental books of religion

The

morals. teristic

first

address to

number its

of "

The

Dial

"

had a very charac-

The purpose

readers from his pen.

of

—the most various expression of the the most cultivated, and the thought of the time, —and was the magazine was

best,

freest

addressed to those only

who were

able to find

"

entertain-

ment " in such literature. There were no facts for popularity. Each number was a symposium of the most accomplished minds

in the country.

Emerson

memorial of an

It is the

impulse which the national

life

'The

American

himself, in the preface to the first

of Carlyle's collected essays, says find

intellectual

of America has never

:

"

Many

lost.

edition

readers will here

anonymous sheets of youthful mind with an emphasis

pages which, in the scattered Dial,'

spoke to their

them from sleep." Many of his finest poems made their first appearance in this periodical. " The Method of Nature " was published in 1841. The first series of that

hindered

Emerson's " Essays," to which Mr. Carlyle contributed a preface, was published in 1841. In this volume are contained some " Self- Reliance," of his most original and ablest papers

—

"Compensation," "Spiritual Laws," "Love," "Friendship," "The Over-Soul," and "Intellect."

In the same year he delivered an

address at Concord, on the anniversary of the emancipation of the negroes in the

West

Indies.

A second

series of "

Essays"

appeared in 1844, also with a few prefatory words by Carlyle.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. This series contained nine papers

13

—"The Poet," "Experience,"

"Character," "Manners," "Gifts," "Nature," "Politics,"

"Nomi-

and Realist," and "New England Reformers" (a lecture). In December, 1 847, he wrote the " Editor's Address " in the

nalist

.

first

number of

the " Massachusetts Quarterly Review."

The publication of his two volumes of Essays, having stamped Emerson as a thinker of indisputable originality and power, his fame rapidly increased in this country, and many of his admirers became desirous that he should

visit

England,

and deliver courses of lectures, as he had done in the great towns of his own land. He had now gained the ear of England, and

manyof the finest minds of both hemispheres had acknowledged For some time he hesitated, doubting his genius and power. whether his name would bring together any numerous company of hearers. Several letters passed on the subject. At length his hesitancy was overcome, and permission granted by him to

announce

and his intention to read lectures to instituany gathering of friendly individuals who sympa-

his visit

tions, or to

Applications immediately flowed in

thised with his studies.

from every part of the kingdom, and

in

many

cases

was

it

found impossible to comply with the wishes of the requisition-

from a fear of enforcing too much labour on the lecturer. Had every offer that was made been accepted, his engagements

ists,

would have extended over a much longer period than he was prepared to remain in England. At last he arrived at Liverpool on 22nd October, 1847. Carlyle was greatly delighted with the prospect of again seeing his friendly visitor lonely, wayfaring man," as

he described him

—of 1833.

from Emerson, announcing the probable time of had,

by negligence

at

—

"

the

A letter

his sailing,

a country post-office, failed to be

delivered to Carlyle in due course, and only turned up near

the time of Emerson's expected arrival, thus depriving the former of the opportunity of responding with hospitable messages and invitations.

This led to great trouble of mind

Carlyle, fearing, as he did, that

it

in

might subject him to the

IN MEMORIAM

14

appearance of a want of hospitality

:

—a

possibility abhorrent

was ended, however, by an arrangement being made to have his reply delivered to Emerson the instant he landed in England, which, it is needless to say, was faithfully carried out. His minute instructions and almost solemn injunctions in regard to this matter were delightfully characteristic of his high regard for Emerson. The reader will find them in a later page. For some months he took up his residence in Manchester, to his feelings. His trouble

from which, as from a centre, he issued forth to lecture

in

various towns in the midland and northern counties of England.

His first course was delivered to the members of the chester Athenaeum, the subject being " Representative

Man-

Men, including Plato, Swedenborg, Montaigne, Shakespeare, and Goethe." His next course was given in the Manchester Mechanics' "

Domestic

and

Institution, Life," "

Literature,"

and

the

subjects

"

being

Eloquence,"

The Superlative in Manners The Humanity of Science." The titles

Reading," " "

of these lectures are given to show the wide range of his

They

subjects.

audiences.

excited great interest, and attracted crowded

While

speech at a soiree,

Manchester he delivered a remarkable held under the auspices of the Manchester in

Athenaeum, Sir A. Alison being

and other mitable

"

notabilities

in the chair.

pluck" and steadfastness and grandeur of England,

amid all her difficulties and commerce and industry were

trials.

in a

may

for the occasion,

At

that time English

very depressed condition.

was carefully preand the importance he attached to it

This speech, although comparatively pared

Richard Cobden

His text was the indo-

were present.

brief,

be gathered from the fact that he printed

in his "

English Traits," published nine years

visited

Edinburgh

in

it,

after.

in extenso,

He

also

February, 1848, where he lectured, and

met many of its celebrities, including Robert Chambers, with whose geniality and kindly humour, and charming family While there, he was the guest of Dr. circle, he was delighted.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

15

Samuel Brown. He spent two days at Ambleside with Miss Martineau and paid another visit to Wordsworth his first

—

having been paid

fifteen years before.

A few records of his stay

London, and remarks on some of the people he met there, be found in his " English Traits," one of the most brilliant and striking books ever written about England and its

in

will

In perusing this volume the reader will be

characteristics.

charmed by able

for

its

vigour, vivacity,

subtle

its

national character.

much

riences

In hanging over feelings as if

from a dead-level country to ridges,

and

discrimination,

same

the

and acuteness.

where the turf is

elastic,

hilly

its

It is

remark-

clear insight

into

pages, one expe-

one were transplanted pastures

and the

and wooded

air sharp, keen,

and

bracing.

His lectures social

and

in

literary

London were attended by the

/lite

of the

world of the metropolis. Mr. and Mrs. Carlyle,

Lady Byron and her daughter Duke of Argyll, Dr. John Carlyle,

the Duchess of Sutherland,

Ada (Lady

Lovelace), the

William and Mary Howitt, Douglas Jerrold, Mr. John Forster,

many other distinguished persons were among The writer of this notice can speak for the breath-

Thackeray, and his hearers.

less attention

interest with

of his audience, and the evident all-absorbing

which

were listened to. The course The Minds and Manners of Power and Laws of Thought,"

his discourses

consisted of six lectures, on "

the Nineteenth Century," "

" Relation of Intellect to Natural Science," " Tendencies

Duties of

Men of Thought,"

" Politics

and Socialism,"

and

" Poetry

and Eloquence," and " Natural Aristocracy." It was a remarkable course. Only one or two of these lectures have been Not a few of his aristocratic audience must have printed. winced under some of his keen reproofs and reminders of duty.

He uttered

and gave

his

his convictions with a daring independence,

judgments with a decisiveness of tone and

earnest solemnity of manner which might have put kings in He made his audience feel as if he had got them well in fear.

6

IN MEMORIAM:

1

hand, and did not his "mind."

It

was

mean

on another occasion) final for

:

—

them go without giving them

to let

he had said

as if

"

your salvation.

(to use his

own words, but

This you must accept as fated, and

mankind's

It is

of Rights, the

Bill

royal proclamation of Intellect, descending the throne, and

announcing

now once

its

for

good

all,

this

pleasure, that, hereafter, as heretofore,

and law of morals, or this course

literary

fixing

go

shall

men

it

"

hearing Emerson.

low to admit of poor

This might be done by

charge,

commensurate with the

poets, critics, philosophers, historians, scholars,

the other divine paupers of that class.

be done, because Emerson in the world, fact,

sense

During the delivery of the London Examiner, urging

at a price sufficiently

some small admission

means of

and

to ruin."

a letter appeared in

a repetition of

common

world shall be governed by

I feel

that

it

and

ought to

is

a

phenomenon whose

and to miss him

is

to lose an important, informing

out of the nineteenth century.

insert this, the favour will at all events

one conscience

satisfied.

It

like is not

therefore, you will have been asked, and

If,

seems also probable that a very men would be secured, and

large attendance of thoughtful

that Emerson's stirrup-cup would be a cheering

and

full

one,

sweet and ruddy with international charity."

Three

lectures

" Shakespeare,"

were also given at Exeter Hall

and

"

Domestic

Life."

At

Mr. Monckton Milnes (now Lord Houghton)

complimentary to the

The

first

lecturer,

impression

public was that his

"Napoleon,"

made a speech

and to which the

one had

:

their conclusion

latter replied.

to him in manner was so singularly quiet and unimin

listening

passioned that you began to fear the beauty and force of his

thoughts were about to be marred by what might almost be described as this

monotony of

apprehension dispelled.

expression.

But very soon was

The mingled

dignity, sweetness,

and strength of his features, the earnestness of his

manner and and the evident depth and sincerity of his convictions gradually extorted your deepest attention, and made you feel voice,

— RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

17

you were within the grip of no ordinary man, but of one first blood," with " titles manifold ;" and as he went on with serene self-possession and an air of conscious

that "

sprung of earth's

power, reading sentence after sentence, charged with well-

weighed meaning, and

words of

set in

faultless aptitude,

could no longer withstand his "so potent

spell,"

you

but were forth-

with compelled to surrender yourself to the fascination of his

He

eloquence.

used

or no action, save occasionally a

little

slight vibration of the body, as

though rocking beneath the

hand of some unseen power. The precious words dropped from his mouth in quick succession, and noiselessly sank into the hearts of his hearers, there to abide for ever, and, like the

famed carbuncle

in

things therein.

Perhaps no orator ever succeeded with so

little

Eastern cave, shed a mild radiance on

exertion in entrancing his audience, stealing

faculty, and leading the listeners

abjured

all

tences in

away each

captive at his

will.

He

—

and excitement dispensing his regal senmildness, goodness, and truth but stealthily and

force

all

all

;

grew upon you, from diminutive proportions, as it steadily increasing, until he became a Titan, a com-

surely he

were

;

manding power To whom, The

The moment he glided away,

as to the

mountains and the

stars,

soul seems passive and submiss.

he took up

finished,

—disappearing before

his

his

MS. and

quietly

audience could give

vent to their applause.

The French Revolution in this country,

of 1848 happening while he was

he went over to Paris

in the spring of that

year, and was present at several meetings of the political He was clubs, which were then in a state of fullest activity.

accompanied by Mr. W. E. Forster (the late Chief SecreIn Paris he made the acquaintance of tary for Ireland). the late James Oswald Murray, with

about the

city.

Mr. Murray, then an

sketch of Emerson, which

B

is

whom artist,

he often went

made

in the possession of

a crayon

an English

IN MEMORIAM:

18

His observations made during that

friend.

visit

were em-

bodied in a brilliant lecture on the French, which he delivered at

Concord, but which

sailing

for

America, in the

Summer much

Manchester, and had

night in

seen and met. his visit,

has not been published.

He

and spoke

consideration

Before

of 1848, he spent a to say of

all

he had

overflowed with pleasant recollections of in the

warmest terms of the kindness and

which he had everywhere experienced.

He

had not been aware there was so much kindness in the world. Would that some unseen but swift pen could have Speakrecorded all he said in these last rapidly-flying hours ing of Carlyle, he repeated the words used in a letter written some months before " The guiding genius of the man, and what constitutes his superiority over almost every other man said he

!

:

letters, is his commanding sense of justice, and incessant demand for sincerity." He spoke of De Quincey and Leigh Hunt as having the finest manners of any literary men he had

of

ever met.

On

the

Sunday before he

sailed for America, a large and admirers from all parts of the country were invited to meet him at the hospitable mansion of Mr. and Mrs. Paulet (both since dead), near Liverpool, whose guest he was. Among other notable persons gathered

number of

his friends

together on that occasion to spend a few hours in his company,

and to listen to his rich experiences and recollections, was Arthur Hugh Clough, for whom Emerson had a most tender regard.

In the following year the former

met Margaret Rome. He had become known to a select circle of scholars by his poem, " The Bothie of Toper-Na-Fuosich," which Kingsley eulogised, and Oxford pronounced " indecent, immoral, profane, and communistic." Mr. Emerson esteemed the poem highly, and was the means of procuring its republication in America. In a private letter, dated December 8th, 1862, he says: "I grieve that the good Clough, the Fuller in

generous and susceptible scholar, should

die.

I

have read

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. over his

'

Bothie

'

19

again, so full of the wine of youth."

In

autumn of 1852 Clough went to America, by Emerson's invitation, voyaging thither in company with Thackeray and the

Lowell.

He

settled at

Cambridge, Massachusetts, where he cordiality, and formed many

was welcomed with remarkable

life. While in Amehe contributed several articles to the reviews and magazines,

friendships which lasted to the end of his rica

and undertook a

revision of the translation,

den's, of Plutarch's "Lives" for

appeared

in five volumes.

England.

He

known

Dry-

as

an American publisher, which

In the following year he returned to

died at Florence in 1861, in his 43rd year.

846 Emerson published his first volume of Poems in 1850 the "Essay on War" in Miss Peabody's "Aesthetic Papers;" and "Representative Men;" and in 1852, in conjunction with W. H. Channing, the " Memoirs of Margaret Fuller." His contribution to the work were the chapters in the first volume on Concord and Boston. Four years later (1856), he published "English Traits." Under the title of " Echoes of In

1

;

Harper's Ferry

"

he published, in

1

860, three speeches con-

cerning John Brown, which he had delivered at Boston in 1859, at Concord later in the same year, and at Salem in i860. This was followed by "The Conduct of Life'' (i860), containing

nine essays

—Fate, Power, Wealth, Culture, Behaviour, Worship,

Considerations by the

Way, Beauty,

Illusions.

In

1864

" Introductory

Essay on Persian Poetry," prefixed Biographical Sketch prefixed to Saadi; to the "Gulistan" of " H. D. Thoreau's Excursions" (1863), " Oration on the Death appeared an

"May-day and

of President Lincoln" (1865),

other

Poems"

(1867), "Address at a Meeting to organize the Free Religious Association" (1867); "The Rule of Life," a Lecture delivered to the "Parker Fraternity" (1867) " Society and Solitude" (1870), ;

containing twelve essays

— Society and

Solitude, Civilization,

Art, Eloquence, Domestic Life, Farming,

Work and

Books, Clubs, Courage, Success, Old Age.

In 1871 he wrote

Days,

an introduction to Goodwin's translation of Plutarch's "Morals."

—

";

IN MEMORIAM:

20

In the same year appeared

"

Parnassus, a Selection of

English and American Poetry, with prefatory remarks," of

which

it

may

be truly said that

it

is

the best collection of

The only thing marring the completeness of the volume is the much -to -be -regretted absence of a few specimens of his own poems. Any other English Poetry ever made.

—

—

Emerson would had he been a poet have In a recent some specimens of his own verses.

selector but

given

volume of " Selections of English Poetry," published in London, the editor obligingly presents the reader with eleven passages from Shakespeare, seven from Milton, and Some of the selections in thirteen from his own works " Parnassus " have been inserted for their " historical importance some for their weight of sense some for single couplets or lines, perhaps even for a word some for magic of style and others which although in their structure !

;

;

;

— of poetic ear — have

;

betraying a defect

nevertheless a wealth

of truth which ought to have created melody."

ment

is

of the subject, under the following heads Life

;

Heroic

Intellectual

;

Portraits

;

;

Contemplative, Narrative

Dirges and Pathetic Poems

;

prefixed, with dates of birth instances,

writings.

arrange-

It

especially

:

Nature

Human

;

Moral and Religious

Poems and Ballads Songs Comic and Humorous Poetry ;

;

;

of Terror, and Oracles and Counsels.

many

The

not chronological, but based upon the character

An

and death, as

regards

is

index of authors, a useful guide in

the

period

of the

does not appear that the merits of the author's

acknowledged

— or

perhaps

we should

say

recognised

had had much to do with the copiousness of The next products of his pen were an Address on " The Dedication of the Concord Free Library (1873); and in 1876 "Letters and Social Aims," containing position

the

extracts.

eleven essays

—Poetry

quence, Resources,

and Imagination, Social Aims, Elo-

The Comic, Quotation and

Originality,

Progress of Culture, Persian Poetry, Inspiration, Greatness,

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. mortality; "

21

Fortune of the Republic," an address delivered

Joston in February, 1878; and

"The

Preacher," printed

le " Unitarian

In the

"

iew"

Review" found

be

will

(1880).

the

North American

essays:

— Michael

Milton, Character, Demonology, Perpetual Forces,

felo,

To

Sovereignty of Ethics.

poems

:

—The Rommany

Brahma,

the " Atlantic Monthly

and 1876, the following

xibuted, between 1858

s,

following

Girl,

Illusions, Solitude

The

"

he

articles

Chartist's Complaint,

and Society,

Two

Rivers,

Song of The Test, Old Age, The Titmouse, American lization, Compensation, Thoreau, The President's Prolation, Boston Hymn, Voluntaries, Saadi, My Garden, :on, Terminus, Aspects of Culture (Phi -Beta -Kappa ks,

Persian Poetry, Eloquence, Waldeinsamkeit,

ure, Culture,

Iress,

.n

t

list

of the articles on

and

his writings in the magazines and reviews of and the United States, as well as indications of has been written about him in France, Germany, and

:rson it

Harv. Univ., 1867).

a later page the reader will find a

Britain

[and.

n 1872 he again visited Europe, accompanied by arriving

filter,

in

November.

After a short

Jon, they proceeded to Egypt, spending

some time

During

resided for

this visit

some weeks

Muller at Oxford.

;

iburgh, his ing,

he did not deliver any

He

in

London, and

author of

"

The

to see Dr.

Secret of Hegel."

J.

May)

His two

last

days

many

old acquaintances and hearers of 1847-8 had thus an

irtunity of

meeting him.

'he friendship

rkable ;

in

Hutchison

spent under the roof of a friend in Cheshire, and s

and

lectures,

visited Professor

spent a single day (8th

main object being

in

there,

•ning in the Spring of 1873 to England, via Italy ice.

his

stay

which existed between Emerson and that

woman, Margaret

—was

Fuller,

altogether of a

and beautiful character, and was only terminated by her

IN MEMORIAM:

12

Returning from Europe with her

ad and untimely death.

usband (Count D'Ossoli) and

child, the vessel in

which they

was wrecked on 16th June, 1850, within sight of her own lew England shores indeed, quite close to the beach. For welve agonising hours they were face to face with death, ihe refused an attempt made by four of the crew to save her, ;st she might have been divided for ever from those dearest 3 her. She bravely preferred certain death to the chances of n eternal separation. The terrible story has been told with itense power and sympathy by W. H. Channing. Of this oraan of true genius, whose conversation was of unrivalled uency and brilliancy, ample records remain. She was an ccomplished Greek, Latin, and Hebrew scholar. She had a Ingular power of communicating her literary enthusiasm to er companions. She has left behind her several volumes liled

—

r

Dntaining the best of her literary work. er that " she iculty of

ipse

was plain

unsheathing herself at

who came

It

;

into right relations with her

Her

has been said of

and that she had a the touch of a thought and

in appearance,

remember her

as

was at the centre of a where thoughts and truths were being discovered, and 'hich had not yet found their channels in literature. With Imost beautiful.

natural place

ircle

womanly sympathies she combined the strong mas-

le finest

and an individuality which stimulated every Her influence was great in the intellectual of her day." She has left a record of her impressions

aline intellect,

ther individuality. :tivities f

Emerson's Lectures, too long

for quotation in full,

worth while giving a few sentences udience some there were simple souls whose hich

it

is

:

—

srhaps, without clear light, yet.

wn

sake,

le still

who were able

—

still

"

but from

Among

life

a search after truth for

to recognise beneath his veil of

small voice of conscience, the vestal

fires

his

had been, its

words

of lone

reli-

and the mild teachings of the summer woods, he charm of his elocution was great. His general manner

ious hours,

as that of the reader, occasionally rising into direct address

:!

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

23

or invocation in passages where tenderness or majesty de-

manded more called

energy. At such times both eye and voice on a remote future to give a worthy reply a future

which

shall manifest

—

more

then manifest to his soul.

body

tone, full

haunted by

largely the universal soul as

The tone

was

it

of the voice was a grave

and sweet rather than sonorous, yet flexible, and

many

modulations, as even instruments of

wood

and brass seem to become after they have been long played on with skill and taste how much more so the human voice ;

In the most expressive passages clearness, winning, yet

uttered notes of silvery

it

more commanding.

still

The words

uttered in those tones floated awhile above us, then took root in the

memory

like

winged

seed.

In the union of an even

rustic plainness with lyric inspiration, religious dignity

with

philosophic calmness, keen sagacity in details with boldness

we saw what brought to mind the early poets and Greece men who taught their fellows to plough and avoid moral evil, sing hymns to the gods, and watch the of view,

legislators of

—

metamorphosis of nature.

man

—one who

could see

Here

man

in civic

Boston was such a grandeur and

in his original

his original childishness, rooted in simple nature, raising to

An

the heavens the brow and eye of a poet."

Concord and Emerson in her "

Homes

is

of the

New

World."

She was a guest

Emerson's house, and describes her host and in

account of

given at length by Frederika Bremer,

his

in

environments

a most vivid manner.

Every reader of Mr. Lowell knows description of the characteristics of

given in "

A Fable for Critics."

has said

many

humorous Emerson and Carlyle,

his intensely

The keen and

vigorous

critic

admirable things in prose about Emerson

which are well worth remembering. Here are a few of them " A lecturer now for something like a third of a century, one of the pioneers of the lecturing system, the charm of his voice, his manner,

and

earlier hearers,

his matter has never lost its

power over

and continually winds new ones

his

in its en-

IN MEMORIAM:

24 "

:hanting meshes." writer,

jreat

so

many

is

feel

an indebtedness for

lim as one of the few

men

of genius

Search for his eloquence

iuced.

Derchance miss cindled

no man living to whom, as a and thankfully acknowledge so ennobling impulses. We look upon

There

of us

all

it,

whom

our age has pro-

in his books,

and you

but meanwhile you will find that

your thoughts.

will

has

it

For choice and pith of language

belongs to a better age than ours, and might rub shoulders

le

vith Fuller

ich ike

and Sir Thomas Browne

—a

diction at once so

and so homely as his I know not where to match. It is homespun cloth-of-gold. I know no one that can hold a

>romiscuous crowd in pleased attention so long as he.

.

.

.

and high thinking speak to us in this altogether inique lay-preacher. We have shared in the beneficence of his varied culture, this fearless impartiality in criticism and Plain living

'

peculation, this masculine sincerity, this sweetness of nature

yhich rather stimulates than cloys, for a generation long.

If

was a standing testimonial to the cumulative power md value of Character we have it in this gracious and :ver

there

—

lignified presence.

ixty-five

alendar,

What

an antiseptic

is

a pure

life

he has that privilege of soul which abolishes the and presents him to us always the unwasted con-

emporary of

his

own

prime.

.

.

.

Who

that

it,

or longing to renew in

ire,

/as

itellectual light, eager with pleased attention, flash rice

upon me

more from the deep recesses of the years with an exquiAh, beautiful young eyes, brimming with love

pathos.

nd hope, wholly vanished now le Past, f

saw the

where every one still capable of them the half-forgotten sense of it, gathered? Those faces, young and old, agleam with pale

udience will ever forget

ite

At

!

in that other

world we

call

or peering doubtfully through the pensive gloaming

memory, your

light impoverishes these cheaper

ear again that rustle of sensation, as they turned to

lances over

some

pithier thought,

some keener

days

!

I

exchange

flash of that

umour which always played about the horizon of

his

mind

"

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

25

like heat-lightning, and it seems now like the sad whisper of the autumn leaves that are whirling around me." "His younger hearers could not know how much they owed to the benign impersonality, that quiet scorn of everything

ignoble,

the never-sated hunger of self-culture, that were

man before them. But the older knew how the country's intellectual emancipation was due to the stimulus of his teaching and example, how constantly he had personified in the

much

kept burning the beacon of an ideal

To him more

region of turmoil.

did the young martyrs of our Civil strength of thoughtful heroism that record of their as

many

Those who

lives.

above our lower

life

than to

all

War owe is

other causes

the sustaining

so touching in every

are grateful to Mr.

of us are, for what they

feel to

Emerson,

be most valuable

in

their culture, or perhaps I should say their impulse, are grateful

not so

much

for

any

direct teachings of his as for that

inspiring lift which only genius can give, and without which

doctrine is chaff." " I can never help applying to him what Ben Jonson said of Bacon 'There happened in my time one noble speaker, who was full of gravity in his speaking. His language was nobly censorious. No man ever spoke more neatly, more pressly, more weightily, or suffered less emptiness, less idleness, in what he uttered. No all

—

member

of his speech but consisted of his

own

graces.

hearers could not cough, or look aside from him, without

He commanded

His loss.

where he spoke.'

Mr. Lowell gives a vivid description of the

effect

produced

by Emerson's speech at the Burns' Centenary dinner at Boston in 1859. "In that closely-filed speech of his every word seemed to have just dropped from the clouds. He looked far away over the heads of his hearers with a vague kind of expectation, as into some private heaven of invention, and the winged period came at last obedient to his spell. Every sentence brought down the house, as I never saw one brought down before, and it is not so easy to heat Scotsmen .

—

.

— IN MEM0RI4M:

26

with a sentiment that has no hint of native brogue in watched, for

was an

it

interesting study,

how

in

an

spark thrilling as

electric

a thunder of plaudits.

vanished, for

enthusiasm."

I,

too,

I

it

I

the quick sym-

pathy ran flashing from face to face down the long like

it.

tables,

went, and then exploded

watched

till

tables

and faces

found myself caught up in the

common

Emerson's concluding sentences were these:

Yet how true a poet is he and the poet, too, of poor men, of grey hodden, and the guernsey coat, and the blouse. He has given voice to all the experiences of common life ; he has endeared the farm-house and cottage, patches and poverty, beans and barley ; ale, the poor man's wine ; hardship, the fear of debt, the dear !

society of

weans and

and sisters, proud of each other, knowing so want and obscurity in books and thought. What a love of nature, and, shall I say it ? of middle-class nature. Not great like Goethe in the stars, or like Byron on the ocean, or Moore in the luxurious East, but in the lonely landscape which the poor see around them, bleak leagues of pasture and stubble, ice, and sleet, and rain, and snow-choked brooks; birds, hares, fieldmice, thistles and heather, which he daily knew. How many "Bonnie Doons,'' and "John Anderson, my joes," and "Auld Langsynes,'' all round the earth have his verses been applied to And his love songs still woo and melt the youths and few, and finding

wife, of brothers

amends

for

!

maids

;

the farm-work, the country holiday, the fishing coble, are

And

still

his debtors

he was thus the poet of poor, anxious, cheerful, working humanity, so he had the language .of low life. He grew up in a rural district, speaking a patois unintelligible to all but natives, and he has made that lowland Scotch a Doric dialect of fame. It is the only example in history of a language made classic by the genius of a single man. But more than this, he had that secret of genius, to draw from the bottom of society the strength of its speech, and astonish the ears of the polite with these artless words, better than art, and to-day.

as

filtered of all offence

through his beauty.

It seemed odious to Luther that the he would bring them into the churches ; and Burns knew how to take from fairs and gypsies, blacksmiths and drovers, the speech of the market and street, and clothe it with melody. But I am detaining you too long. The memory of Burns I am afraid heaven and earth have taken too good care of it, to leave us anything to say. The west winds are murmuring

devil should have all the best tunes

;

—

Open

windows behind you, and hearken for the incoming tide what the The doves perching always on the eaves of the stone chapel opposite may know something of it. Every name in broad Scotland keeps his fame bright. The memory of Burns every man's and boy's, and girl's head carries snatches of his songs, and can say them by heart, and, what is strangest of all, never learned them from a book, but from mouth to mouth. The wind whispers them, the birds whistle them, the corn, barley, and bulrushes hoarsely rustle them ; nay, the music-boxes at Geneva are framed and toothed to play them ; the hand organs of the Savoyards in all cities repeat them, and the chimes of bells ring them in the spires. They are the property and the solace of manit.

the

waves say of

it.

—

kind.

.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

27

From an Essay on Emerson by John Burroughs, the author of several volumes of rare merit, published in New York, and which it is surprising no London publisher has yet introduced to British readers, it is worth while giving a few upon some of the

sentences, bearing

Emerson's writings. there

is

characteristics of

Mr.

Mr. Burroughs wields a racy pen, and

the ring of the true metal in his delightful sketches of

outdoor nature, mingled with chapters of a more purely literary character. I

know

of no other writing that yields the reader so

medallion-like

and

sayings

distinctions.

There

is

a.

many

strongly stamped

perpetual refining and

wisdom of life and conversation. It is the old gold or bright and new it looks in his pages Emerson loves as the workman his tools. He makes everything serve.

recoining of the current silver or copper; facts, things,

The

but

objects,

how

!

stress of expression is so great that

he bends the most obdurate element to keen necessity, weaves the most contrary and diverse materials into her nest. He seems to like best material that is a little refractory; it makes his page more piquant and stimulating. Within certain limits he loves roughness, but not to the expense of harmony. He has a wonderful hardiness and push. Where else in literature is there a mind, moving in so rare a medium, that gives one such a sense of tangible resistance and force ? his purpose; as the bird, under her

But

after

we have made

the fact that he

is

a living

all

Emerson there remains by home standards, a master. Wherein is the prophet and philosopher of young

possible deductions from

force, and, tried

does the secret of his power lie ? He men. The old man and the man of the world make little of him, but of the youth who is ripe for him he takes almost an unfair advantage. One secret of his charm I take to be the instant success with which he transfers our interest in the romantic, the chivalrous, the heroic, to the sphere of morals and the intellect. We are let into another realm unlooked for, where daring and imagination also lead. The secret and suppressed heart finds a champion. To the young man fed upon the penny precepts and staple Johnsonianism of English literature, and of what is generally doled out in the schools and colleges, it is a surprise; it is a revelation. A new world opens before him. The nebulse of his spirit are resolved or shown to be irresolvable. The fixed stars of his inner firmament are brought He drops all other books. Emerson is the immeasurably near. knight errant of the moral sentiment. He leads in our time and country, one illustrious division, at least, in the holy crusade of the affections and the intuitions against the usurpations of tradition and theological dogma. .

Emerson

.

.

often appeared on the Anti- Slavery platform,

and sympathised warmly with the Abolitionists. His views on Free Trade were of the most far-reaching nature. "America,"

IN MEMORIAM:

28

he said

one of

in

his public addresses,

The

freedom, power.

her true policy; opportunity If I could I

open.

without

toll

The

all.

We

wide open

—every all

port

the world,

Let us invite every nation, white man, black man, red man, yellow

or custom-house.

Let us

all.

—doors

would have Free Trade with

every race, every skin

man.

"means opportunity,

genius of this country has marked out

;

offer hospitality, a fair field,

land

is

wide enough, the

should cling to the

soil

common

and equal laws to

has food enough for

school,

and enlarge and

it offers. Let us educate every soul. and every foreign child that is cast on our

extend the opportunities

Every native

child,

coast should be taught, at the public cost,

may

of knowledge, and then, as far as

of art and science."

May

6th, 1882,

An

all

the rudiments

be, the ripest results

acute writer in the Spectator, of

speaking of the interest Emerson took in

public events, very justly remarks:

with

first,

"He sympathised

all

ardently

movements of his own day, while He was one of the first to the institution of slavery. He came forcountry in the good cause, when slavery

the great practical

Carlyle held contemptuously aloof. strike a

ward

heavy blow at

to encourage his

raised the flag of rebellion. all

men

free,

strongly governed at

all.

He

while Carlyle only

—which

Emerson's

spirit,

had' a genuine desire to see

felt

the desire to see

all

men

they might be, without being free moreover, was

more reverent of the two, though

less

much rich

the saner, and in

power and

humour."

During the

last three or four

years his

memory

frequently

failed him, especially in reference to his recollection of

recent events. this,

and though

lectures

more

But he was himself perfectly conscious of it

did not prevent his occasionally delivering

and taking part

in public gatherings,

from the time

became manifest he was always accompanied to the platform by his daughter, whose devotion and considerate tact invariably supplied the words and phrases which Mr. Emerson could not recall. To the last he continued to take this defect

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

29

great interest in the well-being of his neighbours and the intellectual

and material progress of

had never

lost his

domestic

life,

and

company of his

He

inherent love of dignified simplicity in

his

home was

unostentatious comfort.

the

his native village.

a model of refinement and

He was

never more happy than in

grandchildren, and

all

children loved him.

His old age was

serene, and the sweetness and gentleness of were more and more apparent as the years rolled the last, even when the events of yesterday were

his character

To

on.

occasionally obscured, his

He would

unclouded.

middle

life

memory

of the remote past was

and and those who ever had

talk about the friends of his early

with unbroken vigour

;

the good fortune to hear him, in the free intercourse of his

own

study, will not soon forget the charm of his conversation and the graciousness of his demeanour. He would drive with his visitors to the numerous interesting spots in and about

Concord, he would point out the old

home

of his

the house of his friend, Mr. Alcott, and the

still

own

family,

more famous

"old manse" which Hawthorne has made immortal.

who had

has told of such a privilege

whom

One

him within the last two years how he saw the wise ÂŤold man Manchester more than thirty

the pleasure of visiting

he had

first

;

heard in

years before, and again in the seclusion of a friend's house

during Mr. Emerson's

last visit to

England, and at

last in

home of his youth and age. " Assuredly," he said, " this, great and good man was seldom seen to rarer advantage. He drove me to the haunts of the pilgrims who came to Concord to see the place of so many noble and interesting the

associations

;

in

the public library of the town which he

had helped to establish, he showed me not a few literary treasures which the greatest libraries in the world might envy he pointed out the famous tavern where the British soldiers stopped on the day made memorable by the first

—

fight in the

And

on the

itself,

river

still

war of Independence. where the beautiful Concord

battle field

flows

silently

;

IN MEMORIAM: tween the low

hills

which almost entwine the

d the story of the famous struggle.

y

was a

It

nains of the nameless English soldiers granite

;

10 fell in

monument

;

and hard by was

memory of the local militiamen The scenes and the asso-

to the

that famous skirmish.

were

itions

town, he

under which lay the

light breezes stirred the pine trees

;

little

perfect spring

in themselves eloquent, but

they were rendered

measurably more so by the narrative of the sage whose rses,

cut in stone on the

:ure

generations

wn

how

monument

before us, will

tell

of

Concord's noblest son sang of the re-

And

of his country's defenders.

a few weeks afterwards

vas present at one of the dinners of the famous Saturday

As

ub.

met more

ys ;

:cial

humourists of Boston

when

was near him. life and soul

to

attend

many

yet

how

was intended

to

do

Republican candidate,

'

silent

Emerson had not recently been

Look

meetings, but the occasion at

Emerson,' said Fields

was there ever such a sweet

;

he

;

is.

smile,

In the early days of the club,

Emerson was touching to see the of jreverence and regard which all displayed to him,

en Agassiz,

i

Garfield,

of the

no ordinary one.

its

founder, was with us, he and

the liveliest of us

.rks

it

James T. Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes was as of the party, and there were other

famous men.

3w happy he looks

re

;

Longfellow was in the chair

the

ircely less

i

these

returned from presiding at the Chicago Convention

the Presidency.

s

at

meetings were larger, in one of the

the

had nominated General

lal

assembled

honour to the distinguished Massachusetts lawyer, who

i just

;lds

Queen Anne's Dryden or to

October Club, so the poets

This was a notable gathering

tels.

ich

to listen to

held sometimes at the houses of the members, and

netimes,

le

House

select conclave of the

and

layists,

iners,

the wits of the Restoration and

at Wills's Coffee

to notice

his

all.'

It

appreciatory responses.

oyed the sparkling

sallies

He

thoroughly

of Wendell Holmes, and

when

— RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

31

whom speech-making was always a punishment, ;w well-chosen words, referred to the presence- of their fellow, to

ired

fellow-member, Emerson was constrained to reply,

did not forget to

le

us that

tell

if

he could not make

a speech he was only following the example of his the chairman. It was altogether a delightful meeting,

ready there are melancholy associations with Yesterdays with Authors

'

:

itful

has given us so

'

Fields,

many

sketches of famous men, has followed his friends

ceray and Dickens.

Longfellow, the sweetest, the most

and gentle of poets and men, has

S,

it.

also gone,

and now

ourn the departure of the greatest of them, Emerson a man in whom were combined the strength of the England Puritan and the grace and beauty of the

If,

lplished Greek." id

England

of his s

much might be

space permit,

:o

life

at

in

1833,

Concord

who sought

and ;

his

said of Emerson's

first

second in 1847-8; of the

of the literary contemporaries and

and counsel

his society

;

of his connection

he notable experiment of the Brook Farm community

ugh he never joined

by the weird pen of home in the "Blithedale Romance;" of his literary of his imperturbable good temper, and sweetness of the rare union in him of humility and nobility idealised

it),

;

:

—

cing (to use the words of a living author) "the most t

gentleman he ever met

house by

fire,

and

;

"

of the accidental destruction

his year's absence in Europe, while

it

sing rebuilt at the expense of his fellow-townsmen, as a

of their regard

;

and of the enthusiasm with which he the crowd accompanying him

eceived on his return

mph

—

from the railway station to the newly-built house,

with delicate and thoughtful consideration, had been

,

an exact counterpart of the old home.

own

A letter from one

family, written at the time, records that the citizens

•ed at

the railway terminus in crowds, and the school

— IN MEM0R1AM:

32

two smiling rows, through which he and songs of welcome. " Home, \11 followed his carriage to the house, and sang " to the music of the band. A few days afteriweet Home vards, he invited all his fellow-citizens to call and see him in were drawn up

:hildren

by

massed, greeted

lis

)f

in

enthusiastic cheers

new home, and most

of the inhabitants availed themselves

the opportunity.

With regard to his claims as a poet, a few words only can The essence of true poetry is manifest in many of

)e said. lis

sayings that take not the form of versification.

>een truly said that the highest

and which

s felt,

3e

is

is

and best poetry

is

incapable of being expressed in language.

His poems contain

emphatically a poet in his prose.

genuine inspiration of the very highest kind, but lot aid his

he

rhyme does

In a single page he gives more of

development.

of poetry than would supply a dozen of ordinary

spirit

hymesters for the whole of their

who

>oetasters

lives

and yet there are

;

could at least equal him in the construction of

>assable verses.

When

iwned as a great poet.

the world

wiser,

is

Emerson

There are single poems of

or depth of feeling, tender regret,

mman

has

It

that which

will

his

be

which

profound insight into the

and an inimitable quaintness and simplicity sometimes rivalling George Herbert himself) are not to be natched in the works of the acknowledged masters of the His friend, Dr. Hedge, says: "In poetic art he >oetic art. soul,

—

[oes lags,

not excel.

lefect is >oet,

The verses often halt, the conclusion sometimes

and metrical propriety

is

recklessly violated.

this

—his utter spontaneity,

and springs from the same root

^.nd this

But

closely connected with the characteristic merit of the

spontaneity

is

but a

mode

of his sincerity.

han those of any of his contemporaries, tiost part,

are inspirations.

his

More

poems, for the

They are not made, but given They are not meditated, but burst ;

hey come of themselves.

rom the soul with an irrepressible necessity of utterance ometimes with a rush which defies the shaping intellect. It

— RALPH WALDO EMERSON. as

i

it is

—

her

call it

fault,

not his

;

he

There

following remarks relating to his of

an English friend

ers

—

the

Muse

no

is

trace, as

mark of the file." poems are from the

— one

of his most appreciative

a letter written since the news of his death

well recollect the

[

Where

of joiner-work, and no

poetry,

in

that speaks, but a

not going to help her out

is

elaboration or emendation.

wilful Dst

man himself Daemon or Muse.

were not the

if it

behind

•

33

wonder with which

I

first

ar with those crystal-clear perceptions of his,

:

became

—visions

human intellect. To new intellectual possi-

from the very mountain top of the tey

were a

distinct revelation of

We

s,

hitherto only dimly imagined.

;h,

of Emerson being one of the greatest of American

s

;

me

to

:rature

he has always stood alone

—the

talk, naturally

in the great, history

most dauntless speaker,

clearest seer, the

;ftest

and most subtle

)rds

of light tinted only from the azure of

intellect

;

uttering his convictions infinity.

m

nothing more exquisitely dainty than some of his

les

of poetry.

see

t

them

at

Those who I

all.

crystals, fresh

no poetry in them, simply

see

can only compare them to exquisite

gathered from some highest mountain

where the clouds of human infirmity, never reach, in passion, in the Edgar Poe sense, they have none but ;

btlety of insight

and delicacy of utterance,

I

think they

alone in literature."

regards Emerson's literary methods, one of his friends

3

peaks

:

" It

was

his habit to

with constant regularity.

,

spend the forenoon

He

in his

did not wait for moods,

lught them as they came, and used their results in each

was

work.

It

and

places.

wont

to jot

down

his

thoughts at

all

suggestions resulting from his read-

and meditations, were immediately transIn his to the note-book he always carried with him. many a gem of thought was in this way preserved.

:onversations,

,

his

The

C

IN MEMORIAM:

4

Iven during the night

he would get up and

lought worth laying hold ere thus stored up, to be is

note-books were

.rge

of.

All the results of his thinkin

made

use of

when

he transcribed

filled,

down som

jot

commonplace book. When a

AftÂŤ

required.

their contents in

fresh subject possessed hi

he brought together the jottings he found he ha down concerning it, forming them into a connecte

lind,

ritten

Hi

hole, with additional material suggested at the time.

were thus very slowly elaborated, wrought out throug months, and even years, of patient though

>says

and

ays

hey were

all

and again

carefully revised, again

new matter added,

rought over, portions dropped, aragraphs arranged in

new

a

correctec

;

He was

order.

or th

unsparin

his corrections, striking out sentence after sentence

i

:ript

an

;

His manv

hole paragraphs disappear from time to time.

was everywhere filled with erasures and emendations page that was not covered with these evidences c

:arcely a is

diligent revision.''

A friend

says that few authors have published less tha

Emerson in comparison with the great mass of papers whic :main unprinted. "Scarcely any of his numerous sermons hav vet

been published most of his speeches on ;

ccasions remain uncollected

and unedited

lectures,

:ctures

many omit much

me

still

that

remain

in

who heard them,

fc

manuscrip

was spoken,

—the

on History, on Love, and others, displaying so

missions to those

exii

from which he has printed freely

early forty years, a great -ven those published

many verses

withdrawn from publicatior

nly in manuscript, or have been

nd even of his

;

and sock

political

that the author

was

fiv

man at th

by his faithful hearers for leavin had delighted them. Few or none of th hilosophical lectures read at Harvard University eight or nir sorely complained of

ut so

much

ears ago, Tatural r

ork,

that

and designed

History of the

to

make

Intellect,'

when completed, was

part of

what he

called

have ever been printed.

to be the author's

'

Th

Th

most systemat

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. onnected

treatise.

of interest to

all

tual processes

)usly watchful, :arefully

It

was

to contain,

and methods, of which he has always b and which, from his habit of writing,

From

noted down.

nished, will at

some time be

lence of these

many

inted,

it

will

what could not on his own

readers, his observations

work, which, ever

this

printed,

and from his coi which will finz

years, portions of

be possible to reconstruct hereafter a

emarkable episode

r

in literary history."

n American writer, speaking of Emerson's unwillingr int

anything but his

mely s

careful of

best, says

what he put

:—" He

has always b

into print, regarding

of a book as a sacred temple into which only the pui

best of a writer should rican or

be permitted to enter,

European has been so superlatively

specting publication.

every reason for being

He ;

believed that a

that nothing

Drary should be introduced into

it

;

fastidious

book sho

trivial,

passing

that the sole exc

book should be the presentation of fresh thought t intents should be in some manner an addition to ;

ion stock of knowledge. eir lectures :n

Most authors would have

and essays between covers because they

;

1

them, and because they could gain something there illustrious example to his guild in this p had less vanity than members of his ci he had more pride, more regard for his reputati

son was an If he

r.

ally

confident expectation of enduring fame. 3

unwavering confidence

It is said

tl

and that therefore

in this,

hed what was universal and abiding in interest a ice, and compressed his utterances into the small Had all writers followed his example how immeas' A hundred volun ibraries would have been reduced !

shrink to one, and there might be it

in a

long

s with

life

whom

some hope of a

tireL

gaining a slight smattering of the

everybody

is

gr<

presumed to be who

i

IN MEMORIAM:

6

Emerson is a pattern to all mere book-makei resent and to come. If he had done nothing else than iculcate by example the economy of print he would desen separate niche in the temple of literary fame, and who sha imiliar.

1

ty that

he has not secured

All the writings he hi

it ?

known by can be put into three small volume is there not as much weighty and importar tatter as can be discovered in the same space in any lar uage ? The matter is not (as in the great majority of book: ished to be

nd in these

hat can be found elsewhere le illimitable

—generally

wilderness of type.

It

is,

far better said

Emerson

hich always serve to illustrate his idea, actually tvn,

the fruit of his observation, study, and reflection

:tion of

—

barring quotation

an original individual mind upon

—

tt

history, an

life,

ature."

Professor Tyndall thus speaks of his reason for so ofte

—

•" I Emerson do poet and a profoundly itirely undaunted by the

loting

:

man, who

discoveries of science

icchanal, takes her graver brother science leers

is

really

—

an

past, pre

In his case poetry, with the joy of

or prospective.

:nt,

him we hav

so mainly because in religious

him with immortal

by the hand an

By Emerson

laughter.

scientifi

mceptions are continually transmuted into the finer form id i

warmer hues of an

have given the impulse to

ver I

" If

ideal world."

my

mind,

have done, the world owes to

it

anyone can be is

him.''

Emerson It

is

;

sai

what

said th;

n the fly-leaf of an odd volume of Emerson's works, ace

entally picked

up by the Professor

at an old-book stall, an

made him acquainted with his writings, ai iscribed these words " Purchased by inspiration." Herma rrimm, an accomplished German critic of Emerson, says th; hich

first

:

e found in his

iven

by the

works a sense of joy and beauty, such as

greatest books.

He

found himself

made capth

y thoughts which it seemed as if he were hearing for the fir me. " When I again read his sentences," he continues, " tt

— RALPH WALDO EMERSON. mting breezes of hope and

The and

spiritual

joy

3

filled

my

soi

old worn-out machinery of the world was

r<

had never breathed so heavenly a sphere. I can indeed say that no author has had sue fluence upon me as Emerson. The manner of writing :d,

felt

I

as

if I

<

lan,

whom

hold to be the greatest of

I

all

living author

me a new way of expressing thought." Tl Dean Stanley concludes a letter about him in the; " Long may Ralph Waldo Emerson enjoy the ii

sealed to

:

3

—

which superiority gives over mediocrity, and cab

:e

n over fleeting passion."

may be pronounced upon Emerson he must be universally regarded as one who by h ing and practical example has done more to make tr Whatever verdict Dns,

and the career of the man

f the scholar heautiful,

a reproof to

s

all

than any other ler continent.

low aims, and an inspiration to

man

in

America

all

<

hig

—one might almost sa

His greatest service has been the

inculc;

of intellectual self-reliance, and absolute sincerity ht.

<

In an oration delivered before the literary societk

rtmouth College

in July, 1838, will

be found the highe;

ssion of his opinion regarding the duty and aims of th ir

:

trust, he can thus submit himself to the supreme soul, ample returns are poured into his bosom, o«t of what seemed hou uction and loss. Let him not grieve too much on account of unfit associate le sees how much thought he owes to the disagreeable antagonism of varioi

with a high

1

i that

who

pass and cross him, he can easily think that in a society of perfe no word, no act, no record, would be. He will learn that it is m Be a scholar, and he shall have tl latter what he reads, what he does. As, in the counting room, the merchant cares litt 's part of everything. hy,

the cargo be hides or barilla

r

of stocks

;

be

it

what

it

may,

;

the transaction, a letter of credit or

his

commission comes gently out of

it

;

i

be a concei ir a wasteful employment, even in reading a dull book, or working off mechanical day labour, which your necessities or the necessities of othe 11

get your lesson out of the hour, and the object, whether

content with a .

Be

little light,

so

it

be your own.

it

Explore, and explore, ar

neither chided nor flattered out of your position of perpetual inquir

IN MEMORIAM: Why

ther dogmatize yourself, nor accept another's dogmatism.

Dunce your right to traverse the of an acre, house, or barn ?

s

yourself necessary

ke

not store of

if

sessions, in all

that I

am

it,

to

world,

the

and mankind

yet such as shall not take

men's

should you

of truth, for the premature comTruth also has its roof, and bed, and board.

star-lit deserts

affections, in art, in nature,

enjoining too stern an asceticism.

olarship that systematically retreats ? or

will give

away your property

You will nol Of what use is a

and

in hope.

Ask

not,

Who is the better

you bread, in all men's

for the philosopher

conceals his accomplishments, and hides his thoughts from the waiting

)

Hides

Id ?

his thoughts

!

Thought

the sun and moon.

Hide

is all

light,

and

though you were dumb, by its own aculous organ. It will flow out of your actions, your manners, and your face, vill bring you friendships. It will impledge you to truth by the love and exBy virtue of the laws of that Nature, which is one tation of generous minds. ilishes itself to

perfect,

.

It will speak,

the universe.

will yield every sincere

it

good that

is in

the soul, to the scholar

Dved of earth and heaven.

nerson

is

igue.

"

also one of the

consummate masters of the English There is

His sentences are often like diamonds.

thinker of our day who, for sentences that have the ring icles,

can quite compare with him."

supplies

scribed in

ad

some

terse

t,

oi

sc

and pregnant saying, worthy to be on the brain.

"

Force of

His

state-

the distinguishing characteristics of his writings.'

pages are laden with aphorisms

ion

is

the surprise of fitness, the hitting of the nail on the

—are

lis

writer

a golden treasury of portable wisdom."

itences score themselves ;nt,

No

Scarcely a page, especially of the earlier essays,

otable. t

"

is

eminently aphoristic

—and

—

his style of

compo-

they are so felicitously

and on such a variety of themes, that the capturing

;mory declines to surrender them, and speedily claims Let him the fit audience find, though ;m as its own. v,

and he

will illustrate

what

it

is

to speak golden words

that natural style of perfect sincerity, tenderness, and

by which every syllable is conducted straighl it was meant for. For the enuncia•n of his own sentences we call him simply a perfecl saker. The manner fits the matter as if cut out for it from Dughtfulness,

me

to the faculty

ernity."

Theodore Parker,

in

one of the best

critical

papers on Emer-

;

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. :hat has appeared, written in

trusts

is

character,

is

He

Hence he

lity.

He

cosmopolitan.

God.

is

849, says

:

"

He

the n

is

most protestant of dissent

blican of republicans, the

culture

1

trusts himself, trusts n

has confidence in

all

the attribute

serene;, nothing disturbs the even

and he walks

p Nothing impedes

erect.

search for the true, the lovely, and the good

no prr no love of wife or child or gold or me. He has not written a line which is not conceive* nterest of mankind. He never writes in the interest on, of a party, of a church, of a man, but always in est of mankind. No faithful man is too low for oval and encouragement no faithless man too high ilar for his rebuke. To no English writer, since Mil s

no private

:,

;

fear,

<

;

even Milton himself, g us though he was, and great architect of beauty, has be assigned so high a place

:d

many

so

;

thoughts to the treasury of the race

the author of so

much

Emerson

loveliness.

is

;

no,

a mai

such as does not often appear; such as has

us

ne

ared before in America, and but seldom in the wc earns from is

c,

all sorts

men

of

;

but no English writer,

so original."

n a brief memoir like

this, it

would be out of plaa

npt to explain his philosophy.

no system. He is ever adopted the name.

ided

cular or sacred.

"He

He

has, in fact,

]

called a Transcendentalist

He

beholds and reports

Dpen sense and the waiting mind."

all

what comes

trustingly accepts

" Strictly,

he

is

Ibunder of any school, but has furnished the foundal

many

:s

of

:t

of the universe,

schools."

•ceiver or observer, elf :

in

he

" If tells

he has not discovered frankly what he finds

and constantly endeavours

to p]

He

seeks

harmony with the Most High."

the riddle of the universe for himself, and

no traditionary answer.

He

insists

is

conl

on man's

ii

IN MEMORIAM: uality,

and protests against the merging of our separate " Let a man worth, and keep things under his feet. Beneath The one habits, customs, is the spirit of a man.

ngs into indolent conformity with a majority.

3w

his

nions,

the world of value

rig in

teaches that

:

what

'

it

m

insurance

:

facts,

—

a religious heart,

ich

office,

the soul,

is

—

truly religious

mind

shop and the

in the it

sovereign, active.

free,

be true to himself,

shall

The

will.

necessary

I

man

will raise to

the world

let

will find

beauty

Proceeding

mill.

a divine use the railroad,

the telegraph, the chemist's retort,

we now seek only an economic

use.

become

The end and aim

recipients of the Divine

fit

Mind, so as to

live in

The

ughts and act with energies which are immortal. atest philosopher

the loftiest

is

but the listener of simple faithfulness

wisdom

learn the revelation of

irt .t

;

this,

gained when self use his

nature and

all

the sources of Nature are in his

ment

"

words, all

man

Let

thought to his

"

Let

it

own mind,

if

;

the senti-

not be recorded, that in this

when we who were named by our across the light, we were afraid of any fact, or fair day by a pusillanimous preference of our

of the Eternity,

nes, flitted

graced the :ad to

own

;

forgotten in

is

namely, that the Highest dwelleth with him

nt of duty be there."

,

is

To

nmunion with God." is

in

not to assert ourselves, but by individual faithfulness

ife is

I

—

our freedom.

What

is

the scholar, what

but for hospitality to every

is

new thought of

man

the

his time

?

you leisure, power, property, friends ? you shall be the dum and patron of every new thought, every unproven inion, every untried project, which proceeds out of goodAll the newspapers, all the tongues 1 and honest seeking. to-day will of course at first defame what is noble but ive

;

u

who

hold not of to-day, not of the times, but of the Ever-

ting, are to it

stand for

receives from

it

;

Heaven,

d discredited angels."

and the highest compliment is

the sending to

him

its

Man

disguised

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. Those who have felt throughout their lives the pur and elevating power of Emerson's writings, and who recognised in his inspiring career the perfect sanity o genius, can never think of

He now

rests, in that

him without

affectionate reve

deep repose which he has

earned, and on laurels that will never fade.

s(

FUNERAL. The Funeral of Ralph Waldo Emerson. The last rites over the remains of Ralph Waldo En took place at Concord on the 30th of April. from Boston carried a large number of people.

were on the

street, attracted

by the

services,

A

special

Many

pi

but were

1

to gain admission to the church where the public ceren

Almost every building

were held.

town bore over

in

trance door a large black and white rosette with other draperies.

The

i

se

public buildings were heavily draped

even the homes of the very poor bore outward marks of at the loss of their friend

The

services

at

and fellow-townsman.

the house, which were strictly

occurred at 2-30, and were conducted by Rev. of Philadelphia.

pi

W. H. Fu

They were simple in character, and on The body lay in the front nort

Furness took part.

room, in which were gathered the family and close the deceased.

The only

flowers

vases on the mantel, and were

white roses, and arbutus. filled

The

friei

were contained

lilies

of the valley,

in re<

adjoining room and hal

with friends and neighbours.

The

poet's wife

and daughter Ellen

sat near the

Dr. Furness occupied a position in the passage-way, and

a brief and touching address, saying that the peacefu lying before

and

reflected

body.

He

them only indicated a like quiet of soul v its peace and purity while it yet tenante

then recited Tennyson's

repeated from funeral,

"

Deserted Home,

Longfellow words read at that

a few weeks ago.

Scripture followed.

poet':

Appropriate quotations

FUNERAL.

The

procession was then formed for the public

at the Unitarian Church,

which

The Concord

the house.

Social Circle led

followed the hearse and pall-bearers

Haven Emerson, nephews Emerson's son-in-law; Prof.

James

:

the

way

— Charles Emersc

of the deceased;

J. Elliott Cabot,

B. Thayer, of

si

but a short distance

is

Wm.

H.

I

Emerson's biogr

Law School; Dr. E and Mr. W. Thayer, all re

Harvard

Emerson, Mr. Ralph Forbes,

of the deceased, and following them were a few carriage the family and

intimate friends,

Wendell Holmes, G. W.

among whom were

Curtis, President Eliot, of

H

College; Professors Norton, Pierce, Horsford, and Hi

Cambridge; Mrs. publishing

At

the

J.

T. Fields, representatives of the

houses, and many others. church many hundreds of

the arrival of the procession, and

reserved pews, were packed.

all

]

persons were aw the space, exce

In front of the pulpil

simple decorations, boughs of pine covered the desk, their centre

was a harp of yellow

Louisa M. Alcott.

Other

floral

were

tributes

volume, upon one page on white ground the word blue flowers.

an "

Fin

This was from the teachers and scholars

Emerson School. scarlet

;

jonquils, the gift o

By

the sides of the pulpit were whi

geraniums and pine boughs, and high upon the

laurel wreath.

Before 3-30 the pall-bearers brought in the plain

walnut

coffin,

which was placed before the

pulpit.

T

was turned back and upon it was put a cluster of coloured pansies and a small bouquet of roses. Whi coffin was being carried in " Pleyel's Hymn " was rei on the organ' by request of the family of the deceased James Freeman Clarke then entered the pulpit. Juc Rockwood Hoar remained by the coffin below, and wh congregation became quiet made a brief and pathetic a< his voice

many

times trembling with emotion.

;

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

44

Mr. Hoar began his tribute with the words of Israel

fallen in its

is

world-wide sorrow

felt

He

high place."

their

"

own.

manly

There

is

nothing to mourn

The b

and of the

at the poet's death

veneration and grief of the townspeople,

"

:

then spoke

who

c s]

considere(

That brav

for.

was rounded out to the full length of days dying pillow was softened by the sweetest domestic affe and as he lay down to the sleep which the Lord givetl beloved, his face was as the face of a child and seemed tc a glimpse of the opening heavens. Wherever the Ei language is spoken throughout the world his fame is life

<

and secured

lished

from beyond the sea and throughou

come innumerable

great land will

But we,

great public loss. that he

;

was ours

;

voices of sorrow fo

his neighbours

and townsmei

he was descended from the founders

c

town he chose our village for the place in which his life work was to be done it was to our fields and orchard; ;

;

it was in our streets him with love, and the elders he was our ornament and pride. The lofty

gave such value

his presence

;

children looked up to

reverence the

home

;

of

all

eloquent music lost its

;

wise thoughts and aspirations

hope of immortality

;

those

that great heart, to which

thing was welcome that belonged to nature, loving

;

man

;

and tender and generous, having no rep

brother, father, lover, teacher, inspirer, guide,

is

no more that we can do now than to give

and farewell

<

that impre

or scorn for anything but meanness and baseness

is

1

that great soul, which, trusting in God,

;

our

f

gone, this

ou

!"

Judge Hoar's remarks were followed by the con| hymns " Thy will be done," " I will nc

tion singing the

the fate provided

by Thy

love."

The Rev. Mr.

Furnes:

read selections from the Scriptures.

The Rev. James Freeman Clarke interesting address

delivered a long anc

upon the life and works of the deceased

FUNERAL. which a feeling prayer was offered by Rev. Howard M.

I

of Brookline, and the benediction closed the exercises

Immediately

church.

before the

benediction,

Mr.

:

.

had written for the occasion. Over an hour was occupied by the passing files of bours, friends, and visitors looking for the last time upc The body was robed complet face of the dead poet. white, and the face bore a natural and peaceful expr

recited a sonnet he

From the church the procession took its way to the cen The grave was made beneath a tall pine tree upon tl top to the east of Sleepy Hollow, the upturned sod bein cealed

by strewings of pine boughs.

A

border of he

spray surrounded the grave and completely lined

The

lowered to

resting place.

its final

The Rev.

its

were very brief and the casket wa:

services here

Dr. Haskins, a cousin of the family, an Epi

clergyman, read the Episcopal burial service, and close the Lord's Prayer, ending at the words "and deliver u evil."

In this

nounced

the

all

the people joined.

After it was over the by the open grave and threw flowers in

benediction.

children passed

Dr. Haskins the

RECOLLECTIONS, LETTERS, AND

M ISCELLAN IES RELATING TO

EMERSON.

RECOLLECTIONS. Emerson's Visits to England in

and ,vas in

the

1833, 1847-8,

1872-3.

month of August, 1833

—nearly

fifty

years

had the singular good fortune to make the itance of Mr. Emerson, and to enjoy the privilege of bat

I

days' intercourse with him. irgh,

my

visit to

:

was then residing in way home, after had with him a letter of introducI

native city, and he was on his

Europe.

He

a friend of mine, who, luckily for me, was then so

much

d in professional duties, that he was unable to spare even ours to do the honours of the old Scottish metropolis young American traveller was handed over to me, and became "an entertainer of angels unawares." In those 'ays Mr. Emerson was about thirty years of age, and ne was then utterly unknown in the world of letters period to which I refer was anterior, by several years, ;

•

delivery of those remarkable addresses which jrise

took

the most thoughtful of his countrymen, as well

:ultivated English readers.

Neither had he published

those essays which afterwards stamped him as the -iginal thinker >

d,

still

America had produced.

At

that time

connected with the Unitarian body

although not

in

full

agreement with

it

in

New

on certain

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. itters

Sunday, the 18th of August, 1833,

On

of doctrine.

beard him deliver a discourse in the Unitarian Chapel,

>ung Street, Edinburgh, and ect

which he produced on

say that nothing like

it

I

remember It is

his hearers.

distinctly the

almost needless

had ever been heard by

them

before,

The d many of them did not know what to iginality of his thoughts, and the consummate beauty oi e language in which they were clothed, the calm dignity

make

bearing,

his

the

absence of

oratorical

all

of

it.

effort,

the

igular directness and simplicity of his manner, free from

e least lpression underfill id

shadow of dogmatic assumption, made a deer, on me. Not long before this I had listened to a sermon by Dr. Chalmers, whose force, and energy

vehement, but rather turgid eloquence carried, for the

oment,

before

all

them

—

his

audience becoming like cla>

But

the hands of the potter.

I

must confess that

the

egnant thoughts and serene self-possession of the young

had a greater charm for me than all the splendours of Chalmers. His voice was the sweetest

Dston minister etorical

e most winning and penetrating of any ze it

have

I

I

ever heard

;

nothing

listened to since. That music in our hearts we bore, Long after it was heard no more.

We visited

together the courts of law and other places o

and ascended Blackford Hill, whicl view of the city from the south. There wen

terest to a stranger,

immands a fine us good opportunities

He spoke on man} and literature, and witl affluence of thought and fulness of knowledge which sur I had never before met with any on •ised and delighted me. so fine and varied culture and with such frank sincerity There was a graciousness and kind encouragement leech. o, in his manner, inexpressibly winning to one so mucl mnger than himself; and it was with a feeling almost akii reverence that I listened to and drank in his high thought ibjects 1

*

connected with

for conversation. life,

society,

RECOLLECTIONS. and

wisdom.

ripe

A refined

and delicate courtesy, a

spiritual hospitality, so to speak,

—the

thing approaching to which, I have never encountered, to be a part of his very nature, " daily

walk and conversation."

—rather quite

ordinary,

produced on It is

me was

and inseparable

It

ki

like of which, or

—

se

fror

was not therefore

a natural result,

e

—that the impre

intense and powerful.

with a feeling of something like pride that

recorded, in a journal kept at the time,

I

some memoran

that brief intercourse, written in a strain of youthful, e

and of perfectly confident expectancy which might at that time have soi very inflated, but which his subsequent career may be He to have rendered almost tame and inadequate. much about Coleridge, whom he had just visited at 1 gate. I happened then to be reading the prose works o] writer, and these formed a fruitful topic of conversation, spoke of his "Friend" and "Biographia Literaria" as conta many admirable passages for young thinkers, many val advices regarding the pursuit of truth and the right me to be adopted in its investigation, and the importan having precise and correct notions on moral and intelh He considered that there were single sen ten subjects. which embodied clearer ideas of some c works, two these most subtle of human speculations than are to be met w the pages of any other thinker. " Let no one, however, e: siastic admiration,

•his

future

—a

strain

:

in these

books of Coleridge's anything

The works

strictly

symme

themselves are disjointed, inconsecutive,

destitute of

all

projects preliminary to

t<

and plan. As Hazlitt, with his They are vast prefaces them immense productions which he

regularity

acuteness, truly said of

and

—

'

always contemplating, but could never bring himself to He spoke of Dr. Channing, Sir James Mackii cute.' " Goethe's " Wilhelm Meister," and Charles Cotton's trans! of Montaigne's " Essays," which he regarded as mate

— RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

52

among he

"

translations.

said, "

After reading Cotton's racy Eng!

Montaigne seems to

lose, if

you look

him

into

i:

original old French." find that in

I

"

an essay on

Books," published in

he says that he prefers reading the ancients tion.

It

was a tenet of Goethe's that whatever

valuable in any work think," says he, " of

want

to

when

I

" I

translateable.

is

swimming

r

is

should as

across Charles River

wh

my my

tonj

go to Boston, as of reading have them rendered

:

tra

in

for

all

me

books

in

in origi

mother

After Bohn's volumes of translations of the Classics their appearance, he held that they

what

railroads have

Some tions "

done

had done

r

for liten

for international intercourse.

of Walter Savage Landor's " Imaginary

he greatly admired

Conv

—

particularly those between

B

and Richard Hooker, Sir Isaac Newton and Isaac Barrow Diogenes and Plato. Although not an admirer of the I tarian philosophy, he had some of Jeremy Bentham's hair i

He

scrap of his handwriting. writing

down my thoughts.

asked

I said I

my greatest pleasure and solace vise you," ideas.

I

said he, "

me

if I

was not

was ;

in the hal

that reading "

laborum dulce lenimen.

and other young men, to write down

have found

my benefit

in

it.

It fixes

more

firm

your mind what you know, and what you have acquired, reveals to you unerringly which of your ideas are vague,

which

solid."

spoke

many

Of De Quincey, Wordsworth, and times

—

especially Carlyle, of

Carly]

whom he expn

Some of his articles in the " I Review" and "Foreign burgh Quarterly Review" had r struck him one particularly, entitled " Characteristics "the warmest admiration.

—

the concluding passages of another on

German

Liters

regarding which he was desirous of speaking to the au He wished much to meet both Carlyle and Wordsworth '

:

I,

who have hung over men in

not to see these

their

the

in my chamber at h and thank them, and i

works

flesh,

RECOLLECTIONS. change some thoughts with them, when I am passing very doors ?" He spoke of their " rich thoughts, anc noble glimpses of great truths, their struggles to revea deepest inspirations, and glorious hopes of the fut

—not

humanity out, as

it

all

at once very apparent, but to be

i

were, reverently and patiently from their worl

There was great and, I remember, almost insup where Mr. Carlyle then lived, well remember the pains Mr. Emerson took to get t difficulty in ascertaining

formation

;

at last,

University.

account of

it

" I will

my

was obtained from the secretary be sure to send you, before

visit to

Carlyle and Wordsworth,

be fortunate enough to see them." fulfilment of his promise, he wrote

sailii

if I

:

Accordingly, in f

me

a letter on the 3

August, 1833, from Liverpool, giving an account of the views he had with both of them. These interviews 1 described in his " English Traits," published twentj

years afterwards, and must be well

of that best of lyle

all

had heard of

known

to the

books on England.

He

his purpose to visit

him from a

r

found tha

and, on his arrival, he insisted on dismissing the gig

had been hired puttock

—a

to carry

him from Dumfries

to

Cr

distance of sixteen or seventeen miles.

therefore sent back,

to

return

the next day, in

]

tir

him to secure his seat in the evening coach for the So he spent nearly twenty-four hours with CarlyL his

accomplished wife,

among some

who were

living in perfect sc

desolate hills in the parish of

person to speak to within seven miles.

" I

Dunscore— found him

(

the most simple and frank of men, and became acqu

We walked over several miles of and talked upon all the great questions that interest us The comfort of meeting a man of genius is that he that he feels himself to be so rich, that sincerely above the meanness of pretending to knowledge whi with him at once.

j

;

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. and Carlyle does not pretend to have solved

not,

problems, but rather to be an observer of their solul

it

goes forward in the world.

t

I

asked him at what

slopment the concluding passage

his

in

piece in

inburgh Review' upon German literature (say

and some passages

),

He

?

ited

'

that

from

forgives in

waited rather to

his

his papers, the

stat

own

feel

power who had

He

is,

you mi

as

most catholic of philosoph<

and loves everybody, and wishes each to stru£ own place and arrive at his own ends.

respect nence,

five y(

Characterist

My

see.

far less

insight into religious truth.

iter ss

—he

had met with men of

I

'

was not competent to

replied that he

to himself

a

in the piece called

religi

eminent

for

men,

or

rather

his

about the reverse of the popular

is

:kintosh, Jeffrey,

Gibbon

—even

Bacon

scale

Sc no heroe;

scale.

—are

stranger yet, he hardly admires Socrates, the glon

;

Greek world

—-but

Burns, and

abeau, he said interested him, and

given himself with

all his

not calculated too much.

Samuel I

Johnson,

suppose whoever

heart to a leading instinct,

But

I

cannot think of sketch

n his opinions, or repeating his conversations here.

;rfully ly,

do

it

me

in

America.

I

am

I

I

He

t:

loved him

\

afraid he finds his entire solitude tedi

could not help congratulating him upon his treasur

and

wife,

ter for

a

I

hope he

man

will not leave the

moors

;

'tis

so

of letters to nurse himself in seclusion

m t

common level by the compliai imitations of city society. And you have found out ues of solitude, I remember, with much pleasure."

be filed '.

visit

seems to love the broad Scotch, and

:h at once. I

when you

down

to the

day afterwards, Mr. Emerson called on Wo Rydal Mount, and was cordially received, the j lembering up all his American acquaintance. Her

The

third

th at

description of the interview

:

—" He

had very

mud

RECOLLECTIONS. say about the evils of superficial education, both country and in mine. He thinks that the intellectual of society

going on, out of

is

moral training, which

ii

1

proportion, faster th

all

last is essential to all education

does not wish to hear of schools of tuition it is the tion of circumstances which he values, and much more ;

point.

He

says that he

is

i

1

not in haste to publish

many reasons, but that what he has writte be at some time given to the world. He led me out walk in his grounds, where he said many thousands lines were composed, and repeated to me three bei poetry, for

sonnets, which he

had

upon the occasion I hope he will a gem. He was so benevc

just finished,

recent visit to Fingal's Cave, at Staffa.

them

speedily.

The

third

is

me my social duties accompanied me near a mile

anxious to impress upon

he

citizen, that

as an

Am

from his

talking vehemently, and ever and anon stopping sh

imprint his words. to

my

inn,

when you

I

noted down some of these when

and you may see them will.

I

Massach

in Boston,

my

enjoyed both

visits highly,

always esteem your Britain very highly

anc

in love for

it

and good men's sake. I remember with much pleasu visit to Edinburgh, and my short acquaintance with y<

and your good parents. It will give me verysjreat pi Every mai to hear from you, to know your thoughts. Present ever was born has some "Stat are peculiar. Your friend and se spects to your father" and family.

1

—

R.

Waldo Emerson." So much with regard

As

England. years,

to

Mr. Emerson's

became celebrated

remarkable influence

in his

lished in this country in :

—

"

vi

own

country, exercii

in all thoughtful circles.

Mr. Carlyle edited Emerson's

he wrote

first

every one knows, his name, in a ver

184 1.

first series

of Essay

In his preface to

The name of Ralph Emerson

is

not

ei

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

56

new

England

in

such a

man

into the in

distinguished travellers bring us

;

;

hands of the curious here

New

;

hints that th

fitful

England, some spiritual notability called

glide through reviews

were true or not a

better.

little

tidi:

fractions of his writings have- found thei

Whether

these

now

to judge for

them

true, readers are .

.

Em

and magazines.

Emerson's writings and spec

.

amount to something and yet, hitherto, as seems to m Emerson is perhaps far less notable for what he has spol ;

many things he has not spoken an With uncommon interest I have learnei

done, than for the

forborne to do. this,

and

in

such

a.

never-resting, locomotive country,

t

one of these rare men who have withal the invaluable of sitting

still

opportunities,

That an educated man, of good

!

after looking at the

gift:

public arena, and

trying, not with ill success, what its tasks and its prizes amount to, should retire for long years into rustic obsc and amid the all-pervading jingle of dollars and loud cl

ing of ambitions and promotions, should quietly, with ch deliberateness, sit

down

to spend his

life,

not in Mar

worship, or the hunt for reputation, influence, place, o

outward advantage whatsoever it, is

:

this,

when we get a

nol

a thing worth noting."

The

publication, in England, of this

and the second

of essays, which took place a year or two

later,

made

his

widely known throughout Great Britain, and thinking recognised in him an intellectual leader.

Many

p<

of his

f

were desirous that he should come to England, and

d

courses of lectures similar to those he had given with such success in various cities of the United States.

warmly shared. In the autumn of tunity presented friend

itself of

1

sending a message to him by a

—Mr. Lloyd Garrison—who was then

pool to Boston, and

In this

d<

846, a very favourable

sailing

from

who promised to deliver it himself.

availed myself of the occasion, and on the spur of the

c

coi

I

'.

\

mc

RECOLLECTIONS. just before the ship steamed out of the Mersey,

I wrc hasty note in pencil, urging him to entertain the pre lengthened visit to England, and which should eml

some of the chief towns. Befo received a reply, which was more favourable than I e " Youi It was full of kind words and reminiscences. tion is new and unlooked for, yet opens to me at once delivery of lectures in

flattering possibilities, that

I

shall cheerfully entertai

we may both see it ripen, one day to a fact. would be much more practicable and pleasing

perhaps it

answer an invitation than to come into your

(

t

cii

Some months later (28th I owe you new thanks for your

challenge an audience." 1847) he wrote

:

—

" I

and earnest attention to the affair of Lectures which me on, but I had not anticipated so prompt an e of the project as you suggest. Certainly I cannot thinl April (1847). For September I will think of it, but c

;

put

present fix anything.

I

really

have not the means

of

an opinion of the expediency of such an attempt, call to

my

make

a visit of literary propagandism in Engl;

impulses to work of that kind would rather empL

home.

It

would be

few friends the

office

still

more unpleasing to me to pu

of collecting an audience for me,

At the same time it woul< any good invitation to read from institutions, or from a number of friendly individ sympathised with my studies. But though I posses: advertisement and coaxing.

agreeable to

many

me

to accept

decisive tokens of interest in

my

pursuits an

thinking from sundry British men and women, they ar sundered persons, and my belief is that in no one cit]

perhaps in London, could

whom my name was it

would give

collect

my own

me

I find

any numerous

favourably known.

great pleasure to

audience, as

have that confidence

in

my

I

If I

come

to

corr

were Engl;

have done at home hen

favourite topics

and

in

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. that

iits,

this

should undertake the

I

my project

You must

without the

it

has had for me.

what are the I

.

nts

am

and

At

all event:

requires great frankness on you

not suffer your

own

friendly feelings to giv

smallest encouragement to the design. re

leas

rather to take than to give the challengi

I incline

you see

that

affair

ambition does not give to a succes

kind that importance

Ingland

t.

my

But perhaps

rust.

.

.

.

You

rates of remuneration of lecturers

glad to hear what you

position.

tell

doubt not

I

ching us both one lesson.

It

life

me

ir

hen

of your employ

has taught and

i

would be strange, but mos

eeable to me, to renew again our brief yet never-forgotte

uaintance of thirteen or fourteen years ago in Edinburgh.th ever kindest regards." It was quite characteristic of

extent to which his :ed in

England.

No

:ided to revisit this

been stated

Mr. Emerson to under-estimat

name was known and his sooner was

it

appn

country and to read lectures, than

in a previous

(c

page) applications from ever

of the kingdom began to flow

t

writings

announced that he ha

in,

and

in

many

casÂŤ

vas found impossible to comply with the wishes of

tt

from a fear of committing him to engagemen' might have become burdensome to him. Speakin

uisitionists,

ich

the occasion of his second visit to England in " Englis tits,"

he says

a good

:

Id

:

—

" I

traveller,

did

not go very willingly.

nor have

I

ai

found that long journej

a fair share of reasonable hours.

moment

I

But the invitation we

whe by some unusual studies. I wanted nge and a tonic, and England was proposed to m sides, there were, at least, the dread attraction and salutai eated and pressed at a

of more leisure, and

fas a little spent

uences of the

sea, so I

took

my berth

in the

packet shi

ashington Irving,' and sailed from Boston on Tuesda i

October, 1847."

His friend Carlyle was greatly delighted with the prospei

RECOLLECTIONS.

A

of again seeing Mr. Emerson.

announcing the probable time of

letter

from the

his sailing, had,

by

Is

accide

negligence at a country post-office, failed to reach Carly

due course, and only turned up near the time of Mr. Emen expected

thus depriving his friend of the opportt

arrival,

The only thing

of responding.

left

to be

done was to

reply delivered to Mr.

Emerson

Knowing

communication with him, and

that

I

was

in

gel

as soon as he should

ce:

w

to be cognisant of the time of his arrival, Mr. Carlyle

me on istic

the subject, and his letter

is

1

so delightfully chara

of his high regard for Mr. Emerson, and his earnest d

to free himself from even the slightest appearance of a

of hospitality, that

I

must give an extract from

'

It is d

it.

Chelsea, 15th October, 1847, just ten days after Mr. Erne

had sailed which had

:

—

"

By

lain,

a letter

I

had very

lately

lost^and never missed, for above a monl

the treacherous post-office of Buxton, where

and denied

—

I

1st

now he

of October;' and is

was

it

Emerson intended

learn that

country 'about the

probably even

from Emers

calle(

to sail for

infer, therefore,

near Liverpool or some other

oi

Treadmill, or other as emphatic admonition, to

ports.

scandalous post-master of Buxton risk of

!

He has put me in ext

doing one of the most unfriendly and every waj man could do Not knowii

pardonable-looking things a the least to what port

!

Emerson

is

when he is expe find no way of ma

tending,

what his first engagements are, I word audible to him in time, except that of entrustii with solemn charges, to you, as here. Pray do me the ft to contrive in some sure way that Emerson may get he or

my

that note the instant he lands in England.

nently grieved otherwise (were

it

;

shall

have

I shall

failed in

be pe

a clear

nothing more) which will never, probably, in

offer itself again.

on the whole,

if

Do you

not neglect, can, get

I

m

beg much of you

Emerson put

express train, and shot up hither, as the

first

;

safe intc

road he

j

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. at is

we aim

the result

at.

But the note

Dur, for

which

I

depend on you."

I

at all evi

itself,

me

ray you get that delivered duly, and so do

a very

g

need scarcely say

solemn injunctions, so characteristic of Carlyle,

se

i

hfully carried out to the very letter.

ship reached Liverpool on the 22nd of October,

The

Mr. Emerson at once proceeded to Manchester,

I

1

w

ad the pleasure of receiving him at the Victoria Sta

spending a few hours

er "

as Carlyle

:k

had

in friendly talk,

desired, to Chelsea,

returned to Manchester to

and

commence

he was

end

at the

the

first

"

of a

si

engagements which had been arranged for previous page (Memoir, p. 16) I have endeavoured to

lecturing 3.

reader

some idea

(I feel

how inadequate it

nner of reading in public, and

its

is)

'.

of Emers

influence on his hean

stay in Manchester, and just before g pay a round of visits and to lecture, ited a number of friends from various parts of ntry to dine and spend an evening with him at gings in Lower Broughton. His guests were princir. ng men ardent, hopeful, enthusiastic moral and relig

During

his

London

to

—

irmers and visionaries, gathered together'from Birmingr

Nottingham, Liverpool, Huddersfield, Newca

iffield,

One

other towns.

.

of them, a

man

of erratic get

of very straitened means (but nevertheless an invete

.

)ker),

New 1

who

many

years ago died in a lunatic asy all

the

way from Hudd

be present, and next day performed the same

to

leward. :his

not

York, trudged on foot

He

has

left

behind him a detailed descrip

gathering, written in a rather sarcastic

spirit,

for its life-like sketches of his fellow-guests. st spirits

assembled on that occasion

lingham, whose lion,

rbert

little

— Henry

volume of Poems,

in

but

One

c

of

Suttor

Emers

contained pieces worthy of the genius of Gee

— and

who, happily,

is

still

living

in

our

m

— RECOLLECTIONS.

—

honoured and beloved by his friends says that the impres left on his mind was that the affair went off admin

and that

all

seemed delighted

to

have had such an op

tunity of coming into closer contact with

Emerson

no one could but feel gratified by his kindliness and g« dignity, and that his conduct and manner were per "

Any

criticism to the contrary could only excite pity for

writer, if

it

did not too strongly call forth disgust."

It

w

memorable symposium. With his fine graciousness of r ner and delicate courtesy, Emerson listened with se amiability, and an ineffably sweet smile to everything his yc guests had to say, and made them feel, as was his wont, he was the favoured one of the party, and that he specially imbibing much wisdom and benefit from their discourse, the course of the evening, being urgently requested to dc

he read

his lecture

on Plato, then

his " Representative

Among

the guests

ing were two words.

in

MS., but

now

prints

Men."

who were

present at this motley gal

—no longer living—of whom

I

wish to say

a

One of them was Dr. W. B. Hodgson, late Proft Economy in the University of Edinburgh, who

of Political

unexpectedly in Brussels in 1880, lamented by a very

1

I had known him intimately almost fror circle of friends. boyhood. At the time of Emerson's visit he was propr and conductor of the Chorlton High School, Manchester,

was a man of brilliant gifts, a classical scholar of no com mark, and master of several European languages. His ki nature, extensive knowledge of literature, and conversati powers can never be forgotten by those who knew him. an after-dinner talker he had few equals. His marve memory (for he never forgot anything he had ever rea

him with an inexhaustible sto witty and humorous stories and anecdotes, sparkling bon and an unfailing affluence of apt quotation. No story, ever good, could be told by another person in his pres

heard, or seen), supplied

:

'.

— RALPH WALDO EMERSON. ch he was not able to cap on the instant

by a

was

During

his social field he

most valuable

lered

(for 1

better one. his life

no other word can

and other publications, and by in this case

his

be used) correspondence

Educational Reformers, Political Economists, and heads

Schools

and Colleges,

safely say

'

that,

in

every part of the kingdom.

The other guest iberg, ise

memory

and

i

whom I

heart.

I

to

whom

knew

for

I

cherish for his

He was

correspondence.

wish to refer was Joseph

many

years,

Mr. Emerson had made his when lecturing there was,

—

,

Neuberg was a

successful merchant,

recently sustained a severe domestic affliction

a

sister,

At

and

in the

of,

he was living

as his companion, in a beautiful

home, looking

of his wife.

:h

and

admirable qualities of

a highly-cultivated and thoughtful

laintance at Nottingham, guest.

least, in

more than twenty

man, born at Wiirzburg. :ed, his

I

during forty years, he spent, on an

age, two or three hours a day, at

i

he

services to the cause of education

addresses, lectures,

lis

facile princeps.

the time I speak

its green meadows. He had ardent was an enthusiastic admirer of Carlyle's ings, and had long wished to become acquainted with The gratification of this desire was brought about by friendly aid of Emerson, who spoke of him to Carlyle in is of high commendation. Neuberg afterwards proposed Carlyle to wind up his business and to reside in London, live on the modest fortune he had made devoting himThis proposal soon heart and soul, to his service. He finally left Nottingham, after winding Line a reality. From that period up lis affairs, and settled in London. he time of his death, about fifteen years ago, he was in His industry was )st daily communication with Carlyle.

n upon the Trent and

ary

tastes,

.

;

ring. l

He made

researches for Carlyle in

spending days and weeks

eum, unearthing

facts

in the library

all

quarters

of the British

and dates from hundreds of obscure

—

t

RECOLLECTIONS.

neglected books, manuscripts, and maps, thus savin

id is

amount of

friend an endless

ould think nothing single ,ife

of-

During the composition of " Tt services were of great value, and wei

appreciated by Carlyle.

Germany, and inspected

all

They proceeded the. battle-fields

istorical interest described in the Life.

German

E

drudgery.

distasteful

spending a whole day in verifyin

or date.

fact

of Friedrich," his

illy

lto

6

He

together

also translate

By

th

London

ar

the successive volumes of the work.

rrangement they appeared simultaneously

1

and places

in

Neuberg did not live to translate the last tv\ olumes, which were done by another hand. Carlyle w; luch grieved when death deprived him of this faithful frier nd assistant. In no account of his friend which has y ppeared, has any notice been taken of Neuberg, nor ar In the " Reminiscences " h ribute paid to his memory. ame once occurs in a parenthesis, but there is no no ppended to tell the reader who he was Stat nominis umbr n " Shooting Niagara and after?" Carlyle quotes a piece lformation furnished to him by Neuberg. Without namir ierlin.

;

im, he speaks of his informant as " one of the wisest ar lithfullest

German

friends I ever had, a correct observer, ai

nuch a lover both of his own country and of mine." In ;tter from Carlyle to Mr. Neuberg's sister, written in Apr 867,

he says:

hall think

— "If the bust give you any

it,

all

my

satisfaction, surelj

days, to have been well worth whil

I in this world no man of my day had so faithful, loyal, and willing a helper as he gene iusly was to me for the last twenty or more years. To look f is like again would be very vain indeed, were I even at i. A man of leginning of my course, instead of at the end swift, intelligent, and skilf the most decidedly too iculty, seen and known t that kind of work, whom I have ever The memory of him will remain dear and noble, to me; tfo

kinder friend had

;

idieve,

!

;

fii

—

1

—

udden stroke that has cut

away such a

friend, in these n

)

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. may well

xwise desolate days,

be sad and heavy to me.

But

what then is it to you and your dear little head I must say nothing. I will bid you be of age, pious courage, and in all things try to do as you think which I believe will vould have ordered and wished ones

to me,

3

on

this

;

y be

your best consolation

During the fortnight •se

in

in this sore trial."

which Mr. Emerson delivered

of lectures in London, at the

Scientific Institution, in the

his

Portman Square Literary

summer

of

1

848 (referred to

1 5 of the Memoir), I had the honour of being his guest, had lodgings in the house of Mr. John Chapman, in the md a well-known publisher of those days. As he had

age

—

already

1

many weeks

of literary and social

London, he had met a large numcelebrities, including Rogers, Hallam, in

nan, Barry Cornwall, Helps, Clough, Matthew Arnold,

Owen,

iday,

Lyell,

Carpenter,

Mrs. Jameson,

Henry

bb Robinson, Mrs. Somerville, Dickens, Thackeray, Tennyand,

I

and

1

believe,

also received invitations

members of the

Duchess of Sutherland. al

He

Macaulay.

visited several

aristocracy, including

Notwithstanding his numerous

engagements, he generally devoted

y, retiring to his

room immediately

many hours

after breakfast,

The were prepared with much

:nding the forenoon to three o'clock. ;h I

have referred

a day to

and

lectures to care, as will

by his correspondence with myself, prior to my ing him in London. During this visit we went to some of theatres together on one evening hearing Jenny Lind, was then achieving her first triumphs in London. He very desirous of calling upon Leigh Hunt, and as I had ivn the latter for many years, and was in the habit of iding an evening with him when business carried me to Lonit was proposed that I should take him to Hunt's house. seen

—

interview lasted, I think, a couple of hours, and evidently ;

great pleasure to both.

I

have already mentioned that

nought the two finest-mannered

literary

men he had met

— RECOLLECTIONS. gland were Leigh \y his sprightly,

ote

Hunt and De Quincey.

Hunt charmed

sparkling conversation, overflowing with

His courteous and winning manner

and quotation.

occasion tempered by a certain delicate rever-

>n this

how deeply he

indicating

felt

out by his distinguished

it

65

the honour of being thus It is singular that

visitor.

produced a similar impression upon Hawthorne. a portion of his description of him

re to give lost

touching sketches that Hawthorne has written

was a

beautiful old

man.

In truth,

I

I

—one of :

never saw a finer

enance, either as to the mould of featuresor the expres-

nor any that showed the play of feeling so perfectly. s

At my

like a child's face in this respect.

n,I discerned that he was wrinkles many.

lis

tad

not at

all

It

old, his

was an aged

expected to

first

glimpse

long hair being white, visage, in short such

see, in spite

of dates, because

loks talk to the reader with the tender vivacity of youth,

imen he began to speak, and as he grew more earnest in rsation, I ceased to i,

its

be sensible of his age

;

sometimes,

dusky shadow darkened through the gleam which

rightly thoughts diffused about his face, but then another jf

youth came out of his eyes, and made an illumination

n,

before or since

I

never witnessed such a wonderfully illusive transfor-

action, I

should

;

and, to this day, trusting only to

find it difficult to

my

decide which was his

—

and stable predicament youth or age. I have met iglishman whose manners seemed to me so agreeable ne

ather than polished, wholly unconventional, the natural fi

of a kindly and sensitive disposition, without any

tice

to rule, or else obedient to

the

nicest

some

rule

so subtle

observer could not detect the application

felt that no effect upon my mind of what he no emotion, however transitory, in myself, escaped 3tice, his faculty of observation was so penetrative

I

d,

—

lelicate.

E

On

matters of feeling, and within a certain

;

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

6

you might spare yourself the trouble, of utterance ecause he already knew what you wanted to say, am erhaps a little more than you would have spoken. Ther ere abundant proofs throughout our interview of an un epth,

ipining

spirit,

resignation,

relinquishment

quiet

orldly benefits that were denied him, thankful

whatever he had to enjoy, and

f

nward into the dark,

—

and hope

piety,

s

could have had one

full

At our

inds,

and seemed as much interested

I

.cas

wish tha

me warmly by

leave-taking he grasped

in

botl

our whole party a

All this was genuine feeling,

for years.

luxuriant growth out of hfS heart, which was a

jick,

shininj

draught of prosperity before h

ied.

he had known us

th

of which gave a reverential

all

the feeling with which we- parted from him.

>

of

enjoymen

soil fo

Dwer-seeds of rich and rare varieties, not acorns, but a tru

The

produced upon Emerson bi most respects the same as le case of Hawthorne, and could not be expressed in more tru id touching words than those I have just quoted. He oftei jart,is

nevertheless."

visit to

effect

Leigh Hunt was

in

ii

curred to the interview, and spoke of Rightful he had ever had with a

Many

man

it

of

as one of the

mos

letters.-

and persons we saw togethe London. An evening spent at the house of John Minte organ, a wealthy social reformer and associationist, deserve iecial mention. This gentleman was an amiable, gentle id sweet-mannered enthusiast, and had written severa Drks

interesting places

well-known

Hampden eligion," "

luperism," series id is

in

•

in

his

peculiar

the Nineteenth

field

Century,"

of

literature

" Colloquies

01

The Christian Commonwealth," " Extinction o "The Revolt of the Bees," "The Phoenix Library,'

of works, original and reprinted, on the Renovatioi

Progress of Society, in Religion, Morality, and Science only necessary to read the titles of these works in orde

know former.

the

He

views and opinions of this worthy mora had met Emerson somewhere in London, anc

RECOLLECTIONS. obtained the promise of an evening. Thereupon was gatl his large

drawing-room an extraordinary assembly,

of many of the leading socialists in London.

coi

The first pa:

evening was spent in the contemplation of a huge

c

revolving view of a series of associated villages and horn the most enchanting representations of churches for tivation

of universal religion, elegant

rooms, and theatres, in

—of

ladies

lecture

t

and

and gentlemen walkini

the healthy costumes of the future, their children

about them, and over all, a sky of unclouded blu Morgan, with a long rod, explained to his audier meaning and significance of all these beautiful objec answered many questions put to him by timid believ admirers, chiefly ladies.

adjourned to tea and

After this entertainment the

coffee,

and

cc

after a couple of houi

and the conversations naturally flowing up at eleven- o'clock. Emers< fessed that he had never before met such a gathe singular people, and often humorously alluded to i in introductions

from, the party broke

wards.

On

the day which Mr.

his last visit to

house of a

many

Europe (May

friend,

At

8th,

Dr. William

1873),

in

Edinbu

he dined

Smith, the

transl;

of Fichte's works, and President of the Edi

Philosophical Association,

burgh

Emerson spent

in 1833,

who heard him

preach in

and who had listened to his lectures ir met Lord Neaves,* Dr.

the dinner party he

Lord Neaves was a distinguished member of the Scottish bench, and a recognised wit and humourist, and of the most genial dis he was a general favourite in Edinburgh social circles. He was the many songs and verses, social and scientific, contributed to " Bla Magazine." These have been collected, and have gone through several Some of these verses had quite a renown at the time of their publication, *

fine culture,

i

them may be named "The Origin of Species," "The Permissive Bill " Hilli-onnee," "Stuart Mill on Mind and Matte us all be unhappy on Sunday," and others. very fond of Water,"

:

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. and the widow of Dr. Samuel Brown, who had He was 1 847-8, and a few other friends. wit repartee and fire of atly delighted with the brilliant ich was kept up between Lord Neaves and Dr. Hodgson, >dgson,* :n

his host in

well as of the

songs of the former, who sang not a few

frequently referred to this "wit

a few days

gh

combat" on

and

;

his visit to

In a scrapbook of the son of his Edin-

later.

host he inscribed this memorial of his

"After

visit.

—

happy evening with excellent company." R. WALDO On the evening of his arrival :ERSON. 8th May, 1873. May) he met a large party of notabilities in the house \x

Professor Fraser. it is

A characteristic

)n the

8th

lerson,

I

incident relating to this

His host, Dr. Smith, thus relates

worth recording. drove him

for

some time about the

city

;

it

Miss In

being rather indisposed, remained at the hotel.

we stopped at the shop of a worthy Nicholson-street, who is an enthusiastic admirer

course of our drive

iesman

in

had been informed that he had been making anxious uiries about E.'s place of abode and the probable time of departure, so that he might have a chance of getting a npse of his hero. I alighted, and entering the shop said, Mr. Emerson is at the door, and will be glad to r. I

E.

,

you for a few minutes.' You may imagine his delight at The five minutes s unexpected fulfilment of his wishes. re

well

spent,

and

I

have no doubt

are

a cherished

:mory."

He spent der

my

the last two days of this his final visit to England,

roof,

along with his devoted daughter, Ellen.

brded an opportunity of bringing together ends and hearers of 1847-8, ;et.

To

whom

many

he was well pleased to

every one he gave a few minutes, and the stream

conversation flowed on for several hours. ests

had departed, he indulged

* Late Professor of Political irred to.

This

of his old

Economy

in a cigar,

After

all

the

and expressed

in the University of Edinburgh, already

—

;

RECOLLECTIONS. his gratification at

called

"

them.

having met so

Would

that

with each for half-an-hour

by him on

this occasion,

!

I

many " good

people,"

could have

held coi

A

"

capital

bon mot, n

must here be recorded.

It

a

have rejoiced the heart of dear Charles Lamb.

Spe of a convivial club, of which he was a member, h ceased and dispersed for many years, it was th< desirable that the survivors should once more asse and

revive

old

their

recollections.

lating,

An

someone proposed that the society should

gathering every ten years.

pany, instantly said, "

Dutch picture, His last hours

Then

it '

should have the

his

were spent

in Liverpool, before sailing,

perfect

reliance

title

after Teniers " (ten y

Mr. R. C. Hall, an old friend and admirer. It has often struck me that the "marble

Emerson,

hi

Mr. Appleton, one of the

Boors Drinking

'

o

interval

While the wine was

years had meanwhile elapsed.

upon

his

self-possessii

own geniu

grand self-dependence, which no passing e or shake for a moment; and his ste disturb could ment belief in the ultimate .sovereignty of righteousness and

intuitions, his

are well indicated in the following remarkable lines, v

by an old English poet Samuel Daniel

early in the seventeenth cenl

:

One who

And

of such a height hath built his mind,

reared the dwelling of his thoughts so strong,

As neither fear nor hope can shake Of his resolved powers,

the frame

nor pierce to wrong

His

settled peace, nor to disturb the same.

And with how free an eye doth he look down Upon these lower regions of turmoil, Where

On

all

these storms of passion vainly beat

and blood"; where honour, power, renown, Are only gay afflictions, golden toil Where greatness stands upon as feeble feet As frailty doth, and only great doth seem To little minds, who do it so esteem. flesh

:

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. who hath prepared

A rest for his desires Beneath him

;

;

and

sees all things

and hath learned this book of man, ; and compared

Full of the notes of frailty

The

best of glory with her sufferings

inured to any hue

The world can Out of its form

cast

;

that cannot cast that

of goodness

;

mind

that doth see

Both what the best and worst of earth can be

Which makes,

He

that whatsoever here befals,

in the region of himself remains."

;

CORRESPONDENCE. Emerson to Carlyle on "The Life of Fried and the American Civil War. "

The book

came, with ness arid I

[the

first

" Concord, ist May, iS volume of The Life of Frie '

inscription, so that I

its irresistible

but

all

The

tears.

book, too,

is

all t

think you the true inventor of the stereoscope, as

exhibited that art in -style long before it

am

sovereignly

The

in drawing.

speed.

.

the

.

I

less.

letter

also.

far that handwriting, .

am

a victim

all

my

days" to certain gra

form and behaviour, and can never come into

Now

am

I

on

life,

we make

my own young

foolish

life.

two

girls,

My

pupils once or

—knows

boy divides

decided his

Sam Ward

and through, and

I

now

of Agassi

young

people,

time between Cicen

his boat, the birds,

prose, through

year.

Out of sym

believe to value the prizes of their ambitio

My

cricket,

and

equili

and grc

papas cling to the wor

never on their own.

good, healthy, apprehensive, love

people,

heedless children suddenly take the k

and

their account, as

hope.

by

fooled

The

contented.

hold

]

yet he

Every child oi and brings it homi You hug yourself on missing the illu: and must be pitied as having one glitterir

knows from children,

came

we had

w

and Walter Scott will go to collegi

—and

tickled each other the other d

looking over a very good company of young people, b) ing in the

new comers a marked improvement on

w

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

72

There,

parents.

see

I flatter myself, I

people from the prison of their

politics.

to find myself speaking once

more

Be as glad

persist in the practice.

and

know each

not

I shall

other,

on

A correspondent

we have known.

some emerging

...

I

am

to you, that as

I

<

s

me

you have been,

this platform, as

1<

even of twenty-five

should not be disused unless through some fatal event, is

too short, and with

all

our poetry and morals too inc

Eyes so old and weary, and

to allow such sacrifices.

have learned to look on so much, are gathering an harvest

me.

and

;

.

.

I

cannot spare what on noble terms

1

is c

.

" Concord, i8\

Here has come into the country, three or four montl another volume of your History of Friedrich,' infinitely tl a book that one tiest book that ever was written think the English people would rise up in mass and tha author for by cordial acclamation, and signify, by crownir with oak leaves, their joy that such a head existed z "

'

;

—

them, and sympathising and much-reading America

make

a

new

treaty, or send a Minister

Extraordinary

t<

congratulation of honouring delight to England in ac

ledgment of rable

this

and heroic

donation facts,

;

—a book holding so

working directly on

heroes, things unnoticed before

that

we have exhausted

Plutarchs),

—with

stereotype page,

r

Plutarch

Roman and the

1

a range, too, of thought and wisdc

large and so elastic, not so to every need and

—the German

the Greek and

many

practice, wit

much applying as incul man, that we do not

sensibility of

—

—rather we see the eyes of the writer

lc

humming, chuckling,under tones and trumpet tones, and long commanding g] stereoscoping every figure that passes, and every hill, road, hammock, and pebble in the long perspective wonderful system of mnemonics, whereby great and into ours

;

mark

his behaviour,

—

;

LETTERS.

men

marked and modelled in memory by And, withal, a book th a Judgment Day for its moral verdict on the men and nal and manners of modern times. And this book makes no n I have hardly seen a notice of it in any newspaper or jou and you would think there was no such book. I am aware that Mr. Buchanan has sent a special messenge Cheyne Row, Chelsea, or that Mr. Dallas had been instru nificant

are

\

they were, had, and did.

.

.

.

to assure Mr. Carlyle of his distinguished consideration,

men

the secret wits and hearts of

They have

surely.

or of

take note of

not the

said nothing lately in praise of the

or of the blooming of love

fire,

it,

they are sensible of these, and not

and

;

yet, I sup]

of this book, whii

less

like these." "

"

Long

book

Concord, 8th December, i86<

ago, as soon as swift steamers could bring the

across the sea, I received the third

volume of Fried '

with your autograph inscription, and read it with joy. K word went to the beloved author, for I do not write or tl I would wait perhaps for happier days, as our Presi

Lincoln will not even emancipate slaves until on the hee a victory, or the semblance of such. his triumph, nor dare I in "

The book was

away

the

heartily grateful,

You have

imperial scale.

But he waited

in vai

my heavy months expect bright

<

and square to the aut

lighted the glooms,

and engine

whereof you poetically pleased yourself

pits,

complaining, in your sometime letter to me, clean out

and have First, I

I

and

sunshine

let

read

it

honestly

pure

enfold

air

that reports

literature.

man

...

it.

I

inspires,

'Tis sovereignly written,

find,

s

through for the history

pause and speculate on the muse that

friend

the

i

and

abov

as ever in your books, that

has deserved well of mankind for restoring the sch<

profession to

its

highest use and dignity.

are very wilful, and have

made

I find also thai

a covenant with your eyes

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

74

they shall not see anything you do not wish they she

But

was

I

somewhere that your b the manuscript, for I would wish yoi

heartily glad to read

was nearly finished in sit and taste your fame, if that were not contrary to the of Olympus. My joints ache to think of your rugged lab Now that you have conquered to yourself such a huge k dom among men, can you not give yourself breath, and a little an Emeritus in the Eternal University and wrii gossiping letter to an old American friend or so ? Alas, I that I have no right to say this last, I who write ne Here we read no books. The war is our sole and do! instructor. All our bright young men go into it, to be used and sacrificed by incapable leaders. One lesson the} learn to hate slavery, deterrima causa ! But the issue c not yet appear. We must get ourselves morally right, body can help us. 'Tis of no account what England or Fk may do. Unless backed by our profligate parties, their ac would be nugatory, and, if so backed, the worst. But e the war is better than the degrading and descending pol that preceded it for decades of years and our legislation made great strides, and if we can stave off that fury of ti <

—

—

>

i

;

;

which rushes to peace, at the cost of replacing the Soutl the status ante bellum,

we can, with something more

leave the problem to another score of years fight with the beast,

and see

if

—

of cour

free labou

bales, barrels,

and

bas!

cannot find out that thus they pass more commodiously surely to their ports, through free hands than through

1

barians." "

Concord, 26th Sept., 1864.

volume of Friedr and it was my best reading in the summer, and for wi my only reading. One fact was paramount in all good I drew from it, that whomsoever many years used and worn, they had not yet broken any fibre "I

had received

your force

;

—a

in July the fourth

pure

joy to

me who

'

abhor the

inn

LETTERS. which time makes on

me and my -friends.

the capital misfortune, and

To

sometimes think

I

live if

too

we

'.

sh;

by better art of living, we shall learn to include morals some balder control of the facts. I read one Jacobi declared that he had some thoughts whichshould entertain them, would put him to death an haps we have weapons in our intellectual armoury that save us from disgrace and impertinent relation world we live in. But this book will excuse you froi unseemly haste to make up your accounts, nay, hole to fulfil your career with all amplitude and calmne found joy and pride in it, and discovered a golden cr continuity not often seen in the works of men, apprisii that one good head and great heart remained in Ei parry

it

—

;

1

immovable, sities,

—superior

— nay,

own

to his

wearing these,

I

eccentricities

and

j

can well believe, as a

coat or red cockade to defy or mislead idlers, for the

securing his

fancy he

resists.

his days.

made

not

own peace and

I

have

the

the very ends which the

England's lease of power in these last years

visit to

projected or favoured.

America, which

in

would have made

It

your name should be cited

for

is

good

i

lamented that yc earlier yeai it

impossib

one moment on the side

enemies of mankind. Ten days' residence in this ci would have made you the organ of the sanity of Englar Europe to us and to them, and have shown you the nece

and aspirations which struggle up yet,

in

have no organ to others and are

lated here.

our free ill

states,

wh

or unsteadily

In our to-day's division of Republican and

;

]

American nationality lies Republican party (mixed and multiform though that be), and I hold it not less certain that, viewing a crat

it

is

certain that the

nationalities of the world, the battle of

hour

in

America.

A few

Humanity

is

days here would show you

i

th

gusting composition of the other party which within the

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. sts

Take from

the national action.

it

the wild Irish element

>orted in the last twenty-five years into this country,

Romish

who sympathise

priests,

and

lee

of course with despotism

you would bereave it of all its numerical strength. A man slligent and virtuous is not to be found on that side. " Ah how gladly I Would enlist you with youi I

!

nderbolt on

our part

ughtful, efficient

How

!

gladly

enlist

pens and voices of England

1

wise

the

We

wanl

*land and Europe to hold our people staunch to their besl dency.

timent

?

Are English of this day incapable of a greal Can they not leave cavilling at petty failure:

bad manners, and

I

human

t in

dunce part (always the largesl and leap to the suggestions and finger-

at the

affairs),

nting of the gods, which, above the understanding, feed the >es

and guide the

:ted

—'What

•ors,

wills of

over the heads of

is

This war has been con-

the actors in

we do with

shall

ck population

all

men?

and the

it,

the negro?'

coming North to be

fed,'

foolisr

'the entire

&c, have strangelj

led in the fact that the black refuses to leave his climate

and the

living

his

s

has always done

Republic ),ooo

in

intry arns.

proceeds,

their wishes

1

politicians,

ir 1

;

by

now

;

and perhaps

have carried the

hereafter.

The

cost of

by the

rnal law, reconstructing

old horizon, and

life,

we

conquest of

th<

;

Slaver}

English

filled

ear:

and our people, general;

like, at first, to

irresistible experience.

time, are overpaid

o

Peace without

till

beliefs

the place

takes

will be, as the

London have

Slaveholders in

h

rected

and

garrison,

its

a:

the natural ally and soldier o

climate

that

white soldiers

of his employer there,

living

is

;

I

shall

the war, unti

always respec

the dreary havoc of comfor

vistas

it

opens of eternal

and uplifting Society,

see through the

rifts

life

—breaks

a wider.

u]

Th

mal Malthus, the dismal De Bow, have had their nighl r Census of i860, and the war, are poems which will,

ii

:

next age, inspire a genius

like

your own.

LETTERS. " I hate to write

you a newspaper,

wonderful what sublime lessons

on the bulletin boards

wrong

in his guess,

but, in these tin

have once and agai

I

Everybody ha

in the streets.

except good women,

who

never des

the ideal right."

Letters to A. Ireland. "Liverpool, 30th August,i8jj" (before sailing for Amer

Extracts from this

describing his first interviev Carlyle and Wordsworth, will be found at page 53, " letter,

lections."

" Concord,

28th

Dec,

184.6.

—

I

was very glad

reminded by your concise note, written on shipboar

me by

conveyed to

thirteen years ago,

Your

ended. friends

?

In

men

yet opens to

me

ar

of than an enduring

inquiry whether I

soon, the suggestion

me

inter

seems has not yet

me; and, indeed, what

know

or angels

regard to your

England now or for,

it

affectionate expressions towards

are very grateful to

thing do ness

Mr. Garrison, of our brief

and which

many

at once so

that I shall cheerfully entertain

it,

is

shal

new and un

flattering possi

and, perhaps,

we ma;

day to a fact. Certainly it would be and pleasant to me to answer an invi than to come into your cities" and challenge an au< You have been slower to visit Mr. Wordsworth than see

it

more

ripen one

practicable

but, according to all testimonies, -social

my

accomplishments.

He

short and unconnected

assurances, from

visit,

me and many

of a regard that could not

wishes of these days, &c."

he retains

could not

fail

his vigour a

now remember

or I might easily sen

others also

unknown With

to gratify him.

—

t<

tl

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

78

The next

from him (Concord, 28th February,

letter

be found at page 57

will

in " Recollections."

" Concord, 1st April, 184.7.

Hoar, Esq.,

is

sional duties for a time,

Hoar

is

and was

—My townsman,

E. Roc'

ordered by his physicians to quit his

and

]

to travel for his health.

an eminent practitioner at the Massachusett lately a

member of our

As he pn

State Senate.

I use the opportun to visit Manchester beg you to introduce him to the Athenaeum, and to gh any local information that you may think may be use him. Yours with great regard."

in his route,

—

" Concord,

your

jist July, 1847.

effective attention to

—

my

I

owe you hearty than affair, which was atti

enough to me in the first proposition, and certainly as in your hands a feasible shape. I have a good di domestic immoveableness being fastened down by wii children, by books and studies, by pear trees and

—

trees—but

after

much

hesitation can find

sistance to this animating invitation,

England

in the

1st October,

autumn.

I

and

no

think to leave

sufficie

decide to

I

home

aboi

perhaps in the steamer, but more proba

the sailing packet which leaves Boston for Liverpool 5th of each month;

England before the I will

1st

November.

From

the 1st Nove

take your advice as to the best order of

engagements you Leeds.

c

and, at any rate, shall expect to

offer

me

at

Manchester,

In regard to the subjects of

my

fulfilling

Sheffield

lectures, I he

send you by the next steamer some programme or s of programme that may serve a general purpose. I more easily furnish myself for so 'numerous' a coui seems to offer itself if there were any means of preve your newspaper reporters from publishing such ample scripts as I notice (in the 'Examiner' you were so gc But I will see w to send me) of Mr. Marston's lectures.

LETTERS. have to

Meantime,

say.

I

beg you not to give yoursel

further pains in this matter, which I fear has already

you much.

me pleasure to speak to bod: I am sure it will give me much m

It will give

your English people, but

meet with yourself and other honoured individuals in pr: and I see well that, if there were no lecturing, I should n< to find a solid benefit in the "

Concord, 30th Sept., 184.7.

hesitation

October.

nary fortune,

...

longer.

complain I shall

meet

to Manchester to

plan of

my

for

The owners are we shall arrive in

shall not

I

after a

than myse

sailors

have engaged a berth

I

which leaves Boston

Irving,'

have decided,

I

an

inclination in taking passage in a ship,

in the steamer.

But

—

—With great regard."

and advising with better

my

follow

5 th

visit.

little

if

Washii

'

Liverpool next Tue confident that, with

Liverpool in twenty

the voyage should be a

go

di:

to settle with

yo

probably think yourself,

campaign.

in the

and

best to

it

suppose that

I

be

I shall

to read lectures at once as soon as the proper notice

be given

;

or,

more time

if

is

required

can go to London, and make a short

know

by the

visit

institu

before I begi

some synopsis lonj but it has never been quite certain to me what I could pre as I have been endeavouring to complete some lecture that I ought to have sent you

even yet quite

finished.

I

think

now

I will

my

reserve

—Yours, with great regard." "Edinburgh, ijth February, —Some friends here

of contents until

I

see you.

184.8.

me

to read

day

my lecture

on Plato to the

Phil. Society,

night, at half-past eight o'clock.

Now

bureau drawers at Mrs. Massey's.

until

one c you proceed

demand

open the various newspaper envelopes in

you eliminate and extort

'

J

It lies in will

beneficent action at once to Fenny-street,

and

on

Plato,'

immediately to me, care of Dr. Brown,

and send 1,

a

my it

c;

dr,

by

Cuthbert's

(

RALPH WALDO EMERSON. nbro'

The good Misses Massey

?

yourself will reward your pains.

will assist I

your search,

have seen your father

mother, and Mr. Chambers, and others your friends, and

your despatches and benefits have safely arrived.

— Ever

rs."

"Ambleside, 29th Feby., 184.8.

e

— Here

am

one day

for

I

I had fully intended to morning but let myself be

at Miss Martineau's house.

out for Manchester this

;

by some hospitable friends yesterday, to ' had the best I to-day and see the mountains. t at Edinburgh, where I parted with your kindest :her last Sunday p.m.; and on Monday, with Dr. Brown De Quincey, at the station on my way northward. Yeslay I spent a valuable hour, and perhaps a half more, with Wordsworth, who is in sound health at seventy-seven He would even have walked on rs, and was full of talk. Martineau's, but it began to with me towards Miss way r-persuaded

and

1,

I

would not

"London,

it.

Strand,

14.2,

ugh domiciliated

m

suffer

here,

— Ever, with best wishes."

7th March,

am

and

—

184.8.

awaiting your

ne to lengthen the morning

j

am

well .

.

.

beginning to see London shows, but, as everywhere, the morning too precious to go abroad

1

I

visit.

till

in,

am

and

three o'clock.

I

have

you ask it, I will send some good token of him, of this day or a better. But for another change. Yours affectionately." Carlyle one good day, and, as

.

"

142,

Strand,

rlyle) full

the

.

.

—

London, ylh March,

of strong discourse.

events

in

France.

He

For the

1848.

is in

first

much it

I

find liim

humour

time in his

—the Times—and yet

;akes in a daily paper

—

the best

I

life

think he has

confidence in the ability of the French to carry such

points as they have to carry.

He

interests himself a

LETTERS. leal in

the Chartists, and in politics generally, thou^

Dundant contempt for what

m

i

is

He

called political.

tal

a variety of matters, on London, on the Universitii

ireh

and

State,

called Art,

on

notable persons, on the delusii

all

on the Sand novels, &c, &c.

I

think him

aluable companion, and speaking the best opinions to hear in this nation.

y

th him, but there

by no means easy

It is

need of

is little

o;

that, as

he enjoys

\

and his indignations highly. The guiding genius n, and what constitutes his superiority over other :rs, is his commanding sense of justice and incessa s

m

And

d for sincerity. jre

cannot help thinking that

I

books, or at least one more book to write, of

cy than any he has written. soon as the hard work

5

3rd

ondon,

April, 184.8.

My

:re ere this.

ng a story to but

itably, r

in

I

had hoped

my

spend

I

way

must

that

my

would make an end of

it

—Yours

over.

ever."

have se

to

London adventures already ma!

write.

a

time not qui

have

soon

I

,

have seen

ities I,

who

all

me

men

ai

Excepting Tennyson,

here.

the literary and

interested me.

;

Yet

comfort.

decline these valued opportunities of seeing

which are offered

mc

expect your promise

I

is

—

'.

many

of the politic

On Thursday

last, I

went

and spent two days and more, very agreeably thei many good men. I have n

ide the acquaintance of et decided nust.

I

how

who was

good chamber er yours.

\2,

good

carried our

to Carlyle,

:nt to

long to stay, or whither next to go, b

I

be at

for

in better

you

Strand, 13th April,

here

to

mood than

here, waiting

doubt about Paris a

home and

find

friend Neuberg, the oth

me

usual,

your advent, little,

ai

being ve

at work." 184.8.

— Some friends are

an audience

in

London,

takii

if

on

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

82

—and

were ready

I

be too

late

workman

tardy

Meantime

as

do this thing, I must M. and L. Never ask

I

if

you

for

in

when

I

wares

his

be

will

pi

s fir

am very industrious, eat a great many di many lectures, see many persons, many

I

hear a great

t

and

good letters, th line or two in my li your hands, from home, and get on a tasks every day. I have never gone to Bristol, Chelte and Exeter, though reminded of my privilege. The L day is not long enough for its manifold deed, and I go

to clubs, theatres,

my

'

a new post, I it.

long unanswered.

letters

good

The

Examiners.' '

I

received with

gone

last is

found too

late,

because

I

thanl

to Boston.

Quarterly Review,' but

Mass.

—With

soirees, receive

I sei

could not

it

had written your

nai

kindest remembrances to your friends,

I

n

yours faithfully." " London, 14.2, Strand,

London a

am

3rd May.,

184.8.

—

I

have

great while, yet have not quite finished

going to Paris,

I think,

but a short time, as

it is

on Saturday, and mean to

sta)

decided, almost against me, that

read lectures here three weeks hence. Ah, those lectures

staj

my vi

if I

knew what

they have grown from day to day and ha

!

But the indecision whilst

yet a name.

I

have been v

here, whether to read or not, and which I had once d< NO, has left me quite unable to send you any wc

Manchester. Chester for

...

It

will

also

any of those private

be

too

classes

late

at

which hovei

your friendly imagination. Besides it is late in the yea it will be high time for me to set my slow sail for the Ca Massachusetts.

In

my

short and crowded days here

given you no account of myself, yet

I

have found

]

Li

and great, quite equal to its old fame. I have s large number of interesting persons, and I suppose th< rich

things

—the

Parliament, Oxford, the British

Museum,

:

LETTERS. Gardens, the Scientific Societies, the Clubhouses, the

and so

forth.

College of Surgeons Lyell,

;

Faraday, at the RŠyal Instit

Sedgwick, Buckland, Forbes,

Society

and two nights ago

;

Th

attend Mr. Owen's lectures at the

I

hear at the G<

I

dined with the Antiq

I

and discussed Shakspeare with Mr. Collier. Dr. Car has shown me his microscopes, Sir Henry Delabecl geologic museum, and I have really owed many vs hours to the open, and

I

Now

scientific bodies.

have begun to see pictures and

easy to see that London would while,

and

him

find

new

in

last

dining out and of shilling-shows.

my woods

to see the revolution,

Bancroft,

who

views of their

got through

them

politics,

Yet

value

I

I shall

my

it

less

m

all

when

remain three

nouns and verbs

and says the workmen have

scheme

[sic]

of asking Government

repudiate the whole plan, &c.

had no

I

and

to air

;

the miscell

has just returned, takes the most favo

all

labour,

steamer

In Paris

again.

man

soon have enoi

will

experience, and doubtless shall not wish safe in

It

artists.

an inquisitive

studies, but

and quiet countrymen

distracting,

the Picture Galler

letters

from home

;

if

By

t

th

the letters

i

due ship come to you, speed them to your ever oblige grateful."

" London, Tuesday,

tain that I

nth

July, 184.8.

—

It

cannot reach Manchester [on

now appeal way to

his

pool], do what I can, before 9-4 p.m. on Thursday you must give me tea and toast and a bed that nigh despatch me early next morning to Liverpool, when

Paulet has always been promised the

am

am

very sorry that

'tis

the inevitable fate of

I

my

call at

home, and

I

But

nation.

Chatsworth, which

without a friends at

homage of a d

so late and crowded and sf

I

I

could

must report

stop at Coventry one night

r

to fii

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

84

have just got home from Stonehenge, whither

went

I

and Chapman has made out the plan of journey to you the best he could. Yours ever." Carlyle,

my

—

" Concord,

$th July,

buried soon after

and survive

184.9.

—You

think

will

No,

Manchester.

I left

died anc

I

escaped th

I

but with no studies or for

until this day,

worth transmitting news of so far; yet not despairing But here is my f of these days, to send you something. Rev. James Freeman Clarke, an excellent and accompl

man, who can

me

of

"

your

all

you of every good thing

tell

whom you must

America, and

circle.

—Yours

for

it,

—and

common

the

received

am

I

said,

None

'

for

if

ness, of Philadelphia, said,

belief

is

I

know

that

'

there

is,

I

I

is

1

work

Rev. Dr.

always advise the Englisl

many

of so

there

literary

refuse such applications in great numbers.'

;

froi

systems of lucrative work, that when

Mr. Greeley (of N.Y.)

come

—

so disconnected

of an applicant I inquire of other people

to

tidin

many week I am

found no answer,

I

so sent none.

Bostor

affectionately."

May, i8$o>— I

Concord, 22th

a note from you for which

in

good

furnish with

for all

instances of success.'

men

of energy,

much

room and opportunity here than with you but almo; more promise here than with you for any infirmity ;

the case of your friend,

my

I

should think

it

not wise

impressions of his tendencies and turn of mind,

the adventure.

I

saw him but

—to

and learned some

little,

of him from his friends, the Fishers,

—

—

I

saw no

writing,

no public speaking, and have no knowledge of what talent

he possesses

;

but he did not inspire

dence in his good sense, or

from

society.

generous

So

I

fidelity to

in his

me

I

p

with any

<

reasonable expecta

only praise the more your and Mr. him.

1

was very glad

Fi:

to see your

:

LETTERS. and name, and you must not have the likely I

fail

like application to

may

you a much

give

me

to write

make

yet sure,

Lawrence,

must

it

I see, tells

be,

own

a very dull one

me

that

I

write no letter that

dear Carlyle

your

E

is

not imperative.

too, his

,

to

" .

.

friends.

—

Yours

I

i

are inconte:

and hurr

are not good,

remember you heard wil

I

command his

time and

me good

me good

s

news.

tidings of otl

affectionately."

Concord, April 26, i86g. .

I

...

paper brought

Mr. Kell, of Huddersfield, gave

your

th;

you that

tells

My eyes

never write.

was well placed,

Of Mr. B

London,

taste, intelligence,

times with kindest thankfulness. that

ti

but Nature never disappoints, and our

will interest all

Forgive

my

in

amount of human labour here

miles and the

and

;

arrival,

on your tour of observation.

you once a month,

are a great nation,' and

whe

But mai

better answer.

look and shall not cease to look for your late,

again

another person,

for

—Unless

I

knew your

should hesitate to write a line to you

gene aftei

you have not forgotte handwriting, you should burn it unread. But now I hai commanding motives which break down even my chron unpardonable

intervals, lest, if

In the

constitutional reluctance to write a letter.

first

a pretty good acquaintance with the brave book yoi

—

—

me,* I dare not count how many months ago, and examination even I was long forced to postpone, mai: account of tasks which have closely succeeded each ever since

October

until

now, and

partly,

b

also,

you had forgotten how much twenty-one or two have damaged my eyes since I saw you, so that the; refuse to read a type so fine and solid as that of this unless in the most favourable circumstances. * Mr.

love— a "

Emerson here

refers to a

volume printed by

me

in 1868

Bibliographical List of the Writings of Charles

voluminous Works of William Hazlitt and Leigh Hunt."

Polite

—a

Lamb,

i

I:

anc

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

86

assure

me

that

only because

it is

with a grove of

trees,

which allow easy reading

only in the brightest days. this pleasant

book of good

formed, that

it

all

hereafter. is

that

.

my

I

in

and can

love,

1

have read

m

willing]

and liber stua Hunt, now My second motive for the pen t Mr. and Mrs. Fields, who know so be the

liber veritatis

Lamb and

.

.

thoroughly and accurately

taste, so

will

of

lovers

and

justice

last,

thanks of scholars to you for this wc

in the general

loyalty and

for

But, at

my my

have darkened

I

friends,

Hazlitt and

of your English friends, but have never seen yourse' departing in a couple of days for England and Franc desire to make it certain that yoi You and they have many good qu common, and among them the singular eccentricity

Switzerland, and

I

they shall meet. in

eminent goodwill and helpfulness to me. I

hope that Mrs. Ireland and Mrs. Fields

may

have new information to add to

valued photograph you sent me. R. Lowell's only daughter,

is

all

If

it

may I

po

is

meet,

drew

1

froi

Miss Mabel Lowell,

'.

of the Fields' party in

I should like well to see you and your Manchester you and your household, and to know the history of m; those who surrounded you in 1847-8. Mr. Bright has at last placed as you anticipated and wished, and the thinks of Mr. Cobden as you and your friends did. Wit W. E. Fbrster and Mr. Rawlins I have had some

tour.

;

munication.

.

wish you

.

.

and

I

left

undone, which

and shall

I

shall

find

will

All your political friends have been

keep them is

to

expect you

a

so.

But one duty you

make your own

visit to

you come.

these S

Be

assured

hearty welcome in this house.

—Yours

till

affectionately."

" Concord,

law, Col.

19th January, 1872.

W. H.

Forbes, and

my

—

I

wish that

my

sc

daughter (Edith), his

Letters. should not

to see

fail

you

if

they reach Manchester in

passage through England to the continent.

They knov your steadfast goodwill and good action at one time, a

me and

times to

all

not to

their return

my

to

friends,

you on

at seeing

fail

acquainted with

I

have charged

You must show

through England.

of your great

specialties

and

their way, or else certain'

then

and you must make

city,

whom

Mrs. Ireland,

have never

I

though

I

that

should hear from you, and believe me, ever

I

keep her photograph.

Tell them,

I

pray yc

affectionately." " Oxford, ist It

seems that

I

To-day

to catch me.

and rush

1872, House of Professor Max Mill have been travelling too fast for your L

May,

have received yours of 29th

I

and regret that

to say with thankfulness

my

1

da

reaching Manchester should be the 12th May, and that

come

to

you then

Bowdon.

at

Meantime,

him

Selkirk, I think with gratitude to

such swift travellers as

my

down

at

Kennedy's Hotel,

ordinary resources for our will try to

I

Mr. Brov

in

must

be,

tl

my

now waited

by

for

my

—In great

me

hospitable Professor Miiller

Lakes, and that

go

to Liverpool

Continue,

With

Manchester

I will

I

me and

stay

till

at 5-20

— My

mine.

I

is

on Monday from

Wednesday with you, and

I

on Tuesday noon, such are her necess

pray you, your loving-kindness to

my greetings

t

haste, but greater love, I remai:

that the result of her arithmetic and dates

shall arrive at

a

of

acknowledgments, anc

"Edinburgh, Kennedy's Hotel, 8th May, 1873.

tells

1

tc

the important points,

thanks for your affectionate care for

will

safi

Edinburgh, and trust

visit to

be so tardy with

to the colleges.

we

be

will

express our thanks to him for his kindest

am sorry to

just

daughter and

for it

be best not to trouble him with our swiftness, but

will

I

that

'.

to Mrs. Ireland.

—Yours ever

me and

r

faithfull;

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

88

Mr. Moncure D. Conway. consider

I

it

due to

my

friend,

Mr. Moncure D. Conw

give here the letter of introduction which he brought to m<

Emerson

Through the study of his writings h abandon the creed in which he was reared,

in 1863.

been led to

i

turn against the institution of slavery prevailing in Vii

His father was a planter and slave-owner

change which came over his departure

in that State,

ai

his son led to their alienation,

from the paternal home.

i

By Emerson's adv

Cambridge University, and entered the Di Harvard University. His obje< to be near his master, and to know more of the man th whom his life had been revolutionised. " Now and th came at the solicitation of the students to pass an even conversation with them or to read an essay. On one occ when it was announced that he was to read a lecti Concord, the Emersonians collected in some force and in sleighs by night over the twenty miles to hear him. lecture had been postponed, but the philosopher took us house, and we found in his conversation ample compen

went

to

College, connected with

for

our disappointment.

He

treated those present

a

guests of his thoughts, with an imperial hospitality, ar

questions and answers of the youthful inquirers must

convinced him that it

was only

if

the old circle of Concord had brok

into divers circles with other centres.

next few years

With

his influence in the Divinity College

r.

increased that he might have been regarded as an ungi

and it will not seem surprising to those remember those days that he should since have been bi

professor

;

,

into official relations with the University.

time was passed at Concord

;

A great deal

Thoreau, Miss Peabody,

Channing, and one or two others of the old fraternib still

there,

and the society was very

courses of lectures given in the village

attractive.

by eminent

There gentl

MONCVRE

D.

CONWAY.

89

and Mr. Emerson's open evenings preserved the

The motley group

character of the society.

Hawthorne were no longer seen crowding

literary-

described by

in the streets of

Concord, but there were to be frequently met strange faces which, as they passed, the villagers were apt to note with the

surmise that they might be famous

Conway

Mr.

men from

far-off places."

ultimately settled as a minister in

Boston.

In 1863 he came to London, and afterwards succeeded to the pastorate of Mr.

W.

J.

Fox's congregation at South Place,

Finsbury, a position which he contributed

many

is

Mr.

holds.

Conway has

Emerson and other Magazine," between 1864 and 1874, and

valuable papers on

subjects to " Fraser's

he

still

Several books

a frequent writer in other periodicals.

pen have made

and are well known and appreciated "Republican Superstitions;" "The Earthward Pilgrimage;" Sacred Anthology, being Selections from Orienfrom

his

—

tal Scriptures;"

vols.;

their mark,

an elaborate "History of Demonology,"

"Legend of the Wandering Jew;" "Thomas

Recollections of Seventeen Years' Intercourse " ;

"

in

two

Carlyle

:

Address

;

on John Stuart Mill " &c, &c. Mr. Conway's abilities and acquirements have gradually secured for him and his admirable wife a very large circle of friends in London, which includes letters,

many

and

of the most distinguished

men and women

of

artists.

Letter Introducing Mr. Conway. "

Concord, gth April, i86j.

"Mr. Moncure D. Conway, a valued neighbour of mine, and a man full of public and private virtues, goes to England just now, having, as I understand, both inward and outward provocation to defend the cause of America there.

he is

is

I

can assure you, out of

very competent

to

this

much knowledge,

duty,

if

it

a Virginian by birth and breeding; and

years

a

Northerner in residence and

in

be one.

now

for

sentiment.

that

He many

He

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

90

is

a

man

of excellent ability in speaking and writing,

grudge to spare

his usefulness at

home even

to a contir

so important as the correcting of opinion in

Englan

making you acquainted with Mr. Conway, I charge i first moment of American peace v the best time for you to come over and pay us and me

remind you that the promised

visit."

;

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. Emerson's Boyhood. Rufus Dawes, who knew Emerson as a boy, gives his "

Boyhood Memoirs

"

(1843) a sight of the boy wl was about ten years old " It is eight o'clock a.m. ai thin gentleman in black, with a small jointed cane unc arm, his eyes deeply sunken in his head, has aske spiritual-looking boy in blue nankeen, who seems :

about ten years

—

;

;

—

it was a pr do this and there he stands, that boy, whose more than any others, is still deeply stamped upc mind, as I then saw him and loved him, I knew no and thought him so angelic and remarkable feeling tc him more than a boy's emotion, as if a new spri

to

;

old, to

'

touch the bell

—

'

—

brotherly affection had suddenly broken loose in

There

him

;

the

he

is he the father of the man He has tc and while he takes his seat among his f dreams that in after times he will strike a di

how

ness,

my

no indication of turbulence and disquiet but with a happy combination of energy and f is

bell, little

truly

!

note."

The Young Preacher. Mr. Charles T. Congdon, a veteran American journali series of papers in the "

New York

"

Tribune"

in 1879,

ei

Reminiscences of a Journalist," gives some recolk

of Emerson before he had abandoned his ministeria nection with the Unitarian first

body

:

—"It

is

curious that I

have heard the lovable voice of Ralph Waldo Err

when he was

Waldo Emerson. One day there most gracious of mortals, with a ft

the Rev.

into our pulpit the

"

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

92

who gave

benignity,

out the

first

hymn and made

prayer as an angel might have read and prayed.

th

Our

was a pretty good one, but its best was coarse and discc I remember of the sermon onl after Emerson's voice. had an

it

charm of

indefinite

wisdom, with occasional

quaintness

simplicity,

illustrations

from nature, whicl

about the most delicate and dainty things of the kind I

had ever heard.

could understand them,

I

if

not the

Mr. Emerson pre

philosophical novelty of the discourse.

good many Sundays, lodging in the homi Quaker lady, just below ours. Seated at my own di saw him often go by, a"nd once in the exuberance ( childish admiration I ventured to nod to him and t for us for a

'

Good morning

To my

!

'

astonishment, he also n

Good morning

and that is a had with the sage of Concord enough, decidedly, for a reminiscent volume about him he has left a world, which he has made wiser and hi and smilingly said

conversation

He

I

'

!

'

ever

gave us afterward two lectures based upon his

by way of

Mr. Emerson's great anxiety that

I recall

have a good

light,

and

his lamentation

found to be impossible. fine

see

—enchanting them

;

There was a picture of the trib Florence, painted by one of our t

illustration.

the Uffizi Gallery in

men, and

t

hang up

abroad, and was at a great deal of trouble to

The

when a good

s

ligl

lectures themselves w<

we found them

in print,

it

—

that I have hunge: and have thought of the evenings

which they were delivered as

'

true Arabian nights.'

Oration before the Phi-Beta-Kappa Societ Cambridge, in

At page immense

1 1

1837.

of the " Memoir," allusion

influence

is

on the youthful mind of

made

New En

produced by the oration before the Phi-Beta-Kappa at

Cambridge, on August

31, 1837.

Alcott,

1

S<

who was p

"

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. says of

of the

it

:

—

" I believe that

new views

had the good fortune forget

was the

adequate

first

to hear that address

the delight with which

I

heard

confusion, consternation, surprise, and

audience listened to

it."

delivery of this lecture

Lowell,

who

the

memory

for its

What crowded and

and

;

shal

I

nor the

it,

wonder with also heard

rr

whicl

say

it,

"was an event without any

parallel in our literary annals, a scene to in

statei

that really attracted general attentioi

be always

picturesqueness and

fo

trea<

inspirs

its

what windows clusti with eager heads, what enthusiasm of approval, what sil of foregone dissent

breathless aisles,

!

Home and

His George William

Curtis,

an

Friends. accomplished

author

who at one time lived at Concord, thus spol Emerson's home " It is always morning within these d

orator,

:

—

If you have nothing to say, if you are really not an e from some kingdom or colony of thought, and cannot c

gem upon

you had better pass by upoi is the peculiarity of Emerson's mind He eats no lotus, but for ever quaffs

the heaped

other side.

For

ever on the

alert.

it

pile,

1

waters which engender immortal

thirst.

.

.

The

.

fan

the philosopher attracts admiring friends and enthusiasts

every quarter, and the scholarly grace and urbane hospit of the gentleman send them charmed away.

.

.

It

.

hazardous to say that the greatest questions of our day

i:

ai

all days have been nowhere more amply discussed, more poetic insight or more profound conviction, than ir comely square white house upon the edge of the Lexin

turnpike.

...

says, 'and yet I

'I

am

chide society,

I

embrace solitude

not so ungrateful as not to see the

'

the lovely, and the noble-minded, as from time to time

pass

my

gate.'

for the spot.

It is

He

not

difficult to

understand his fond

has always been familiar with

it,

ah

—

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

94

more or

Born

a resident of the village.

less

his

youth was passed

his grandfather,

wrote

'

and

in

;

river, will easily see its

of the

or floats

man who

his imagination, they

roai

dreaming doi

landscape upon Emerson's pag

there be something oriental in his philosophy

and trop

have yet a strong flavour of his n

—the underived sweetness of the open Concord

the spacious breadth of the Concord horizon."

was something

j

Old Manse, which was bt which his father was born and tr

solitary pastures of Concord,

earth

Bostor

stands,

in the

The imagination

Nature.'

in

now

the spot where Channery Place Church

whose members

like a club formed,

Emerson's library on

Monday

described by Mr. Curtis.

r

This libn

evenings.

" It is

sk;

In 1845

a simple square roor

walled with books like the den of a literary grub, nor

r

elegant like the ornamental retreat of a dilettante.

books are arranged upon plain shelves, not in archite bookcases, and the room is hung with a few choice < vings of the greatest men. There was a fair copy of

M

Angelo's

'

Fates,'

which, properly

enough, imparted

grave serenity to the ornament of the room which

apparent in what their

is

symposium.

written there."

"Plato" (Alcott)

apples of gold in pictures of silver

is

a

Here the scholars r "was perpetually pi

for such was the ric by the deep melody of his " charmed ( Thoreau ) us with the secrets interviews with Pan in the Walden woods ;

of his thoughts, coined

Orson

"

from his

Emerson, with the zeal of an engineer trying to waters, sought to bind

course into a dale

"

web of clear sweet

(Hawthorne),

"

dam

the wide-flying embroidery o sense.

.

.

.

Miles C

a statue of night and silence,

sat,

a

removed, under a portrait of Dante, gazing impertur upon the group and as he sat in the shadow, his darl ;

and eyes and

suit of sable

made him,

in

that societj

black thread of mystery he weaves into his stories."

;

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. Mr. Alcott once wrote thus of Emerson

who

the visitor

—

"

Foi

admitted of a morning for the

is

discourse, or permitted

to

walks to Walden, the

Cliffs,

remembered

:

join the poet

in

or elsewhere,

his

aft<

— hours

unlike any others in the calendar

as

(

them as sallies oftenest ir cloudlands, into scenes and intimacies ever new, no: less novel nor remote than when first experienced ?— views, however,, bringing their own trail of perp thoughts, costing some days' duties, several nights' oftentimes, to restore one to his place and poise. Cei Shall

periences.

describe

I

—

—

safer not to venture without the sure credentials, unle will

have

gifted

—welcome

polite

reduced

his pretensions pricked, his conceits

to

all

nor can any bearing be more poet;

such,

His

especially.

!

i

But to the modest, the ingenuoi

vague dimensions.

is

—to

and

youth

accomplished

v

a faith approaching to superstitioi

cerning admirable persons, the rumour of excellence sort being like the arrival of a

new

first

for

many

Mecca

years a kind of

of Hawthorne), to

imparted as to

whom

make

mankind,

to

Concor

which many a devo;

Young visionaries (in much of insight

"

faithful pilgrim resorted.

gift to

and hope."

to proffer his recognition

the

just so

life all

<

the

hac

a

a labyrinth around them,

seek the clew that should lead them out of their

self-in

— whose

syster

bewilderment. first air,

Grey-headed theorists

had imprisoned them

in

an iron frame-work

—

trc

painfully to his door, not to ask deliverance, but to inv free spirit into their

own

thraldom.

People that had

1

on a new thought, or a thought that they fancied new to

Emerson, as the finder of a

lapidary to ascertain

epochs in

my

life

its

when

value. it,

too,

glittering

gem

might have asked

prophet the master-word that should solve the universe

;

hasten

For myself, there hac

but now, being happy,

I

felt

me as

(

the ri9 if

there

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

96

no question

to be put,

and therefore admired Emer

a poet of deep beauty and austere tenderness, but

:

nothing from him as a philosopher."

A

writer in the " Chicago Times," a few years ag<

own knowledge

wrote from his

one of the severest

—

Emerson " Alt of students and most abstract of of

:

sophers, he always emerges from his library to circle

with evident satisfaction.

gravity of manner, he

full

is

Notwithstanding a

c

of geniality and bonhomi

never more eloquent and charming than

is

the

when awaj

his books and manuscripts. He is very fond of ch and young people; loves to talk and walk with then listens to them as if they were revealing the oracles No man in Concord is more popular or accessibL gods. he.

He

sympathy with the old town he r and says he would not exchange it for

fully in

is

and honours

it,

;

York, Athens, Rome, or Paris.

To

get a clear and ade

conception of Emerson, one must see him at home, so to speak, is

if

he

may be

in ur

considered as ever in unifonr

the soul of simplicity and sincerity.

He

husbands, the most considerate of fathers.

is

the kind

It is relal

him that when any thought strikes him, when any sugg any pat quotation is recalled, he invariably the thing he is doing and jots down the thought or sugg Even in the middle of the for future use or reference. occurs, or

he observes

this habit,

knowing that a good thing may

his ways, she '

Are you

an

idea.'

ill,

.

would ask him, when he arose to strike a No, my dear,' he would reply, husband ?' '

.

.

or even ruffled. placid refinement irritable

truth."

b

Before his second wife got us

forever unless recorded.

Nobody has

He

is

the

ever seen him out of te embodiment of calm courte

—the very reverse of the supremely

being an author

is

ne;

believed to be, and often

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. Miss Frederika Bremer's Visit to Emersoi In her "

Homes

of the

New World,"

Miss Bremer gh

Emerson

following account of a visit she paid to Mr.

home

Concord, in 1849:

in

remained

in

—"During

Emerson's house

I

had a

the four days

enjoyment

real

Anj

study of this strong, noble, eagle-like nature.

approximation was, as

it

were, imperfect, because our

c

and views are fundamentally dissimilar, and that antagonism which exists in me towards him, spite ters

admiration, would at times awake, and this easily his icy-alp nature, repulsive

original nature of the

and he gladly throws one can

see, in a

it

man

and

But

chilly.

—he does not rightly

off if

he can, and

callei

this

much

is

is

n

thrive

hapj

mild and sunny atmosphere whe

may breathe freely and e by that of others as by a living b " I enjoyed the contemplation of him in his deme expression, his mode of talking, and his every-day

natural beauty of his being into blossom, touched

his I

enjoy contemplating the calm flow of a river bearing

and between flowery shores large and small

vessels, as

to see the eagle circling in the clouds, resting its

pinions.

upon

thei

In this calm elevation Emerson allows n

to reach him, neither great nor small, neither prosper! adversity. "

Pantheistic as

Emerson

in his Philosophy, in the

is

view with which he regards the world and degree pure, noble, and severe,

life,

demanding

he as

is

in

His words are

himself as he demands from others:

;

much \

judgment often keen and merciless, but his demean alike noble and pleasing and his voice beautiful. his

"One may

quarrel with

Emerson's thoughts,

judgment, but not with himself. as

distinguishing

nobility.

other

He

is

men born G

wii

That which struck me

him from most other human

a born nobleman.

I

beir

have seen befor

with this stamp upon them

—

his exce

;

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

98

W

in

r,

Sweden, and

the third which has

it,

and perhaps

in a yet higher

and added thereto that deep intonation of sion so mild yet so elevated at the

but think of Maria Lowell's words,

name,

I feel

" I

same If

'

me both when

agreed and

I

could not

my

when

dissented

I

what he

in

flowed

as

was anima;

there

and he

says,

and comprehends and replies well also. But was the weariness of the spirit or whether a feeling

well

whether

it

When

not invite his conversation.

come

did not

room.

It

river.

know

of esteem for his peace and freedom, I

it

I

Emerson's conversation, which

always a something important

listens

time.

myself ennobled.'

enjoyed

ting to

degree

voice, that expres-

he merely mention

calmly and easily as a deep and placid

is

Emerson

the second,

is

it

was good

it

came

also, especially if

me and

mode

in his

but

I

did

good,, when

he were

He was

His presence was agreeable to me.

in his attention to

not,

was

it

in the

amiable

me

of entertaining

as

a stranger and guest in his house. "

This

is

what

deavoured to

wished to say to Emerson, what

I

say, but

I

know

not

how

did

I

I

it.

I

en-

cannot

usually express myself either easily or successfully until I

become warm and get beyond or through the first thoughts; and Emerson's cool, and as it were circumspect, manner

me

prevented like to

myself. telligibly

I

do not

believe that

He

to him.

views as

He seemed

definite.

posed to blind or hypocritical

know and

continuance of our being,

is

the pledges of this in our that

calmly,

to

we cannot say

in

me

faith.

that people should pretend to

than they really do

I

am

I

never fully in-

and said nothing

nor yet seemed inclined to give his

it,

he,

natural region.

now expressed myself

I

listened

decidedly against

'

my own

from getting into

be with him, but when with him

principally to be op'

I

do not

know or The

believe.

granted,' said

own

breast.

what form or

in

to believe

more

resurrection, the

he also I

wish,' said

;

'

we

carry

maintain merely

what manner our

— MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. be

existence will

continued.'

Emerson did not lead

my

nevertheless, to

my

If

99

conversation

to anything very satisfactory,

more firm conviction of

still

with led,

it

his nobility

and love of truth. He is faithful to the law in his own breast, and speaks out the truth which he inwardly recognises. He does right. By this means he will prepare the way for a more true comprehension of religion and of life. For when once this keen glance, seeing into the innermost of every-

becomes aware of the concealed human form

thing, once

the tree of

life

—

like

Napoleon's in the tree of

then will he teach others to see

St.

too, will point

it

in

Helena it

out by

such strong, new, and glorious words that a fresh light will spring up before many,and people will believe because they see."

The "Brook Farm Community" Experiment.

A

Emerson gives the following account of this singular movement, which Hawthorne with his inimitable and weird pencil has immortalized in that saddest of romances, "The Blithedale Romance:" "It was indescribably ludicrous to observe reverend doctors and other dons coming out to gaze upon the extraordinary spectacle, and going friend of

—

about step

be

as

dainty

from

stone

ladies

hold

The dons seemed

soiled.

their

stone in a

to

contact had not smirched them.

skirts

muddy

and

street,

daintily

they

lest

mere

to doubt whether the

But, droll in

itself, it

was a

thousandfold droller when Theodore Parker came through the

woods and described gladiatorial

it.

shoulders,

With

and

his

his

head

set

low upon his

nasal voice in

subtle

and

exquisite mimicry reproducing what was truly laughable, yet all

with

infinite

bonhomie and with a genuine superiority to

small malice, he was as humorous as he was learned, and as excellent a preacher.

was noble and fervent and humane a Sundays a party always went from the Farm

man

On

to Mr. Parker's

as he

little

country church.

He was

what he was afterwards when he preached

there exactly

to thousands of

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

ioo

eager people in the Boston Music Hall rustic,

They

racy man.

;

the

same

plain, simple,

His congregation were his personal

friends.

loved him and admired him and were proud of

him

;

ample knowledge of things as well as of books, his jovial manliness and sturdy independence, drew to him all ages and sexes and conditions. The society at Brook Farm was composed of every kind of person. There were the ripest scholars, men and women of the most aesthetic culture and accomplishment, young and

his geniality

and tender sympathy,

his

farmers, seamstresses, mechanics, preachers

the lazy, the conceited, the

sentimental.

—the

industrious,

But they were

associated in such a spirit and under such conditions that,

with some extravagance, the best of everybody appeared, and there

was a kind of

esprit de corps, at least in the earlier or

golden age of the colony. tial

hard work

;

for the

There was plenty of steady, essen-

founding of an earthly Paradise upon a

New England

farm is no pastime. But with the best and much practical knowledge and industry and devotion, there was in the nature of the case an inevitable

rough

intention,

lack of method, and the economical failure was almost a fore-

gone conclusion.

But there were never such witty potato

patches and such sparkling corn-fields before or since.

The

weeds were scratched out of the ground to the music of

Tennyson or Browning, and the nooning was an hour as gay and bright as any brilliant midnight at Ambrose's. But in the midst of all was one figure, the practical farmer, an honest neighbour who was not drawn to the enterprise by any spiritual attraction, but was hired at good wages to superintend the work, and who always seemed to be regarding the whole affair with the most good-natured wonder as a prodigious masquerade. Indeed, the description which Hawthorne gives of him at a real masquerade of the farmers in the woods depicts his attitude toward Brook Farm itself: And apart, with a shrewd Yankee observation of the scene,

'

stands our friend Orange, a thick-set, sturdy figure, enjoying

— MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS.

101

the fun well enough, yet rather laughing with a perception of its nonsensicalness than at all entering into the spirit of the

That, indeed, was very much the attitude of Hawthorne himself toward Brook Farm and many other aspects of thing.'

'

human

life. But beneath all the glancing colours, the lights and shadows of its surface, it was a simple, honest, practical

effort for wiser

The

selves.

forms of

life

than those in which

we

find our-

criticism of science, the sneer of literature, the

complaint of experience,

is

man

that

developed being, the proof of which

is

a miserably half-

the condition of

is

human

which the few enjoy and the many toil. But the enjoyment cloys and disappoints, and the very want of labour society, in

Man

poisons the enjoyment.

is

made body and

health of each requires reasonable exercise.

soul.

If every

The

man

did his share of the muscular work of the world, no other

man would be overwhelmed by it. The man who does not work imposes harder toil upon him who does. Thereby the first steals

and all

at last

from the

we

last the

opportunity of mental culture,

reach a world of pariahs and patricians, with

the inconceivable sorrow and suffering that surround us.

Bound

fast

by the brazen

age,

we can

to the age of gold lies through justice,

see that the

which

way back

will substitute,

The spirit Farm is diffused, but it is not after many downward changes,

that

was

concentrated at Brook

lost.

As

an organised

it

co-operation for competition.

but those

effort,

who remember

.

.

.

failed

;

the Hive, the Eyrie, the Cottage

when Margaret Fuller came and talked, radiant with bright humour when Emerson and Parker and Hedge joined the when those who may not be pubcircle for a night or a day licly named brought beauty and wit and social sympathy to the feast when the practical possibilities of life seemed fairer, ;

;

;

and

life

influence

and character were touched ineffaceably with good a pleasant vision which no fate can harm,

—cherish

and remember with ceaseless gratitude the Brook Farm."

blithe days at

— ralph waldo emerson.

102

Mr. Alcott and his Daughters.

The

Following account of the venerable Mr. Bronson Alcott,

Emerson's life-long will

be read with

friend, still living, in his eighty-third year,

His name

interest.

is

inseparably associated

with that of his distinguished fellow-townsman.

paper in the

New York "Home

from a

It is

Journal," entitled "Literati at

Concord," November, 1874: "

Not

far

from Mr. Emerson's hemlock grove—writes a

pilgrim of the Inter-Ocean It is the

Alcotts.

—

queerest

stands at the foot of the

hill

is

the picturesque

little

home

of the

cottage in the world.

It

which the 'British soldiers crossed

when they marched up from Lexington. The house is a dull brown colour, with peaked roof and many a gable end, in one of which, hooded by the jutting roof and festooned by some airy sprays of woodbine, is the window whence Aunt Joe looks out on the sunny meadows. On each side of the front walk there is a huge elm with rustic seat built around its roots, and among the branches tame squirrels hold high revelry. Yonder a hammock swings under some apple trees, and around the whole runs a rustic fence, built by Mr. Alcott himself. It is made the morning, nearly a hundred years ago,

'

'

entirely of pine boughs, knotted, gnarled,

No two pieces

every conceivable shape. are wonderful,

and twisted into

are alike

;

the gates

and they alone would make credible the story

that he spent years collecting the branches. "

Mr. Alcott, the

'

Orphic Alcott,' as Curtis

calls

him,

is

one of the Concord philosophers, and has his ism,' of course. Vegetables and conversation are his forte, and he reared his '

family on a diet of both, apparently with great success, judging from appearances.

He

ate

weeds and talked and

built

summer-houses, whose chief use was to be targets for George William Curtis' wit. Once he kept a young ladies' school in Boston,

entirely

where books were discarded and teaching done He was also a member of those

by conversation.

extraordinary assemblages, practicable in Boston alone, over

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. which Margaret Fuller presided, and

how

sight to see

For

versations are very

much

is all

it

like

on one side

;

or,

in his invitations to

evening.

I

Then

enough

to

come

benign, gracious old man, is

over six feet

tall,

;

as a

Western host described

some

friends,

'

is

Come up

this

j

'

tap.'

to joke about Mr. Alcott

till

you

face to face with this white-haired,

makes

levity

seem

He

irreverent.

but a good deal stooped.

he

—the

Irishman's treaty

hair falls scantily around a face beautified

dignity of old age

to

the

have a philosopher on

" It is all well

managed

said that Mr. Alcott's con-

is

him once

see him.

must have been a rare

it

these two inexhaustible talkers

tolerate each other.

reciprocity

103

His long, grey

by the

placidity

and

a perfect counterpart of the pictures

of venerable curfe one sees in

French story books.

His

manners are very simple and unaffected, and it is his great some of his daughters' young friends in his Mr. Emerson cosy, crimson-lined study and chat with them. esteems him highly, but his books seem to be less appredelight to gather

by his own people than they

ciated

to prophets

if

not philosophers.

a journal faithfully kept for

are abroad, a fate

common

His most valuable work years,

fifty

is

carefully bound,

indexed, and with letters and other valuable papers ranged

on

library shelves.

his

This taste

for

orderly arrangement, his distinguished

minute

number of years covered by the record volumes

will

priceless to historians or biographers.

son's study perpetual twilight reigns, in Alcott's

noon. roars,

and

walls.

of Carlyle.

An

The most It

is

what

his

and the

make

these

If in

Emer-

is

always

it

The sun shines in it all day long, the great and the warm crimson hangings temper the

reflect the firelight.

on the

detail,

associates,

fireplace

sunlight

Quaint mottoes and pictures hang noticeable picture is

called a

'

is

a photograph

Cameron photograph.'

woman of rank takes these photographs of dismen just for her own amusement. The camera is

English

tinguished

set out of focus, the

heads nearly

life-size,

and the general

'

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

104

—

effect is singular

interesting, if

see against a black background

nothing

is

All you can

else.

the indistinct outlines of a

shaggy white head and beard and sharp features. With all deference to Mr. Carlyle, we must say that he looks like an old beggar. "

May Alcott, a whom the critic of

Miss

artist

fine-looking, stylish critics,

is

an

Ruskin, has declared to be

the only successful copyist of Turner.

She

attribute not usually allied to her profession

rous interest in other artists

woman,

surely has one

—the most gene-

—not only by word of mouth, but

She brought home with her whose artists she is trying She herself paints in oil and

with substantial endeavour.

several English water colours, for

American patrons. water colours, and sketches in crayons, charcoal, sepia, ink, and pencil, and is one of the most popular Boston teachers. Her studio at home, a most cobwebby, disorderly, fascinating to find

little is

den,

is

frescoed with profiles of her acquaintances

the toll cheerfully paid

on the

wall.

She

is

by her

known

visitors

—that

—they must be drawn

to the general reading public

Women,' in which she She and Louisa planned subsequently a charming little book called Concord Sketches,' which it is a great pity was never made public. through her illustrations of fell far

'

Little

short of her usual ability.

'

Beside painting, Miss

head of Mercury and

May all

models

clay sometimes.

sorts of pretty little sketches

her hands adorn her home, which

remembrance

in

to all visitors

is

made a

still

by her brightness and

A

from

sunnier

cordiality.

[This lady died some years ago.] "

Louisa Alcott, the elder of the two, the darling of

all

American nurseries, is something of an invalid. She is amiable and interesting, and, like her sister, sociable, unless you unluckily approach her in her character of author, and then the porcupine bristles. There is no favour to be curried Little Women with her or Gail Hamilton by talking 'shop.' is drawn chiefly from Miss Alcott's own home life. Amy the '

;

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS.

105

is May, Hemmie and Demmie are her two nephews, Mr. and Mrs. Marsh her father and mother she herself is Jo, of course. When the book was first pub-

golden-haired,

little

used to come by the dozen from

lished, children

the country to see

To

parts of

all

the calls of these

little pilgrims Ja' she always presented herself cheerfully, though she used to be '

infinitely amused at the unmistakable disappointment of her young admirers when they saw this delicate, practical-looking

lady, slightly stooped, for their rollicking, romping, nimble Jo.

Miss Alcott struck a rich vein of popularity and more subreward in her juvenile books, though she herself con-

stantial

siders "

Hospital Sketches

'

Some four

'

the best of her writings.

or five years ago she went into a Boston book-

store to leave an order,

which the clerk told her could not be

attended

said he, not

spoke,

'

to,

we

'

because,'

shall

be busy

all

Two weeks ago we Women" out there, and firm.

day packing books

to

whom

for a

he

Western

sent ten thousand copies of " Little

to-day comes an order for twenty

As soon

thousand more.'

knowing

as they got out of the store her

companion turned to her with some congratulatory expression. "'Ah!' said Miss Alcott, drawing a long breath, 'I have waited fifteen years for this day.' "

Mrs. Alcott

a writer,

or,

as

is

a beautiful old lady, herself something of

one of her daughters lovingly

brightest one of the family.' "

says,

'

the

"

Monday Conversations " at Concord.

A writer in the

"

Boston Journal" (April 27, 1872,) gives an "Monday Conversations" and "Literary

account of Emerson's

Meetings" at the Mechanics' Hall, Concord:

—"A

gentleman, well preserved, serene and elegant

in

venerable

manner, takes

upon the platform of a cosy and comfortable hall, at three o'clock on a Monday afternoon, when the rush and roar his seat

of business in practical Boston

is

at its height, and, gently

arranging his papers before him, looks calmly around him

;

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

106

upon the large audience gathered to hear him. It is the causerie which he has undertaken the familiar and delicate enunciation of his ideas in the form invented by our sprightly yet thoughtful French friends and the ladies throng to hear him in greater numbers even than when he appears in the

—

—

attitude of the lecturer.

A

red curtain hangs behind him,

and noble outline of

setting off in sharp relief the keen

his

—the head thrown forward with the poise of daring assertion — and the face now animated with the warmth

features

all

and enthusiasm of a genuine poetic admiration, now saddened and reserved with the diffidence of the habitual student and the man of reverie. Side-lights from each wing of the stage throw a sharp light upon the ample manuscript on the readingdesk, for the philosopher and poet is now rapidly nearing seventy years of age, and the fatigues of the lecture-room are easier felt than thirty years ago. Yet the same consummate magnetism lingers around and upon every word and phrase there is the same thrilling earnestness of antithesis, the same delight and gloating over poetry and excellence of expression, as of old. There is no other man in America who can, by the mere force of what he says, enthrall and dominate an audience. Breathless attention falls

away

given, although

is

now and

then his voice

so that those seated farthest off have to strain every

faltering

The grand condensation, the unand almost cynical brevity of expression are at first

startling

and vexatious but presently one yields

nerve to catch the words.

;

to the charm,

mind in the proper assenting mood. The conversations attract more women than men, but they are of the more intellectual and reflective class of our New England women, who find in the intensity and wonderful precision of Mr. Emerson's mind something inexpressibly pleasing. Nor and

finds his

are they blind worshippers merely at a shrine before which

they kneel

in

wonder

;

but the large majority appreciate and

enjoy to the uttermost the continual, unresting surging of

thought thrust upon them.

.

.

.

Mr. Emerson

is

greeted

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. by a

class of people

who

107

are rarely seen together on

public occasion in Boston.

any other

Aside from the large number of

professed admirers and disciples, and the

literati,

who

are pre-

sent each time that he speaks or reads in Boston or vicinity,

men who go

him are mainly of the desire-to-bedazzled-and-shocked order, who seem disagreeably surprised when they do comprehend what he says. Mr. Emerson's terse and vivid sentences cling in the memory, and will not be the

to hear

The causerk

effaced.

of

which

will

thejrelations of nature to

be henceforth grafted inseparably upon the

mind.

The emphatic New Englander

at

but finishes by saying,

first,

'

listens,

That's so

!'

tofore far-remote abstractions are brought

of daily

gave

afternoon

yesterday

hundred ideas upon poetry, and

life

—admirably

illustrated

—made

an

man,

common

incredulously

Ideals and here-

down

to the sphere

plain,

and tethered

where even the humblest can appreciate them as realities. And in all cases it seems to the listener as if the phrases uttered were sculptured in the thought of the speaker

—as

if they

had been so from the beginning, and could never be otherwise."

Emerson and

A

correspondent of the

"

his

Daughter.

Cincinnati Commercial," giving

an account of a lecture delivered

at-

Cincinnati in July, 1876,

thus speaks of the beautiful relation between Mr. Emerson

—

and his daughter: "Into the Congressional library walked Emerson, one of the immortals, and smiled his celestial smile, as if two such things as mercury and the thermometer were not. His daughter Ellen by his side, and as she is the incarnation of

common

sense, she also

the weather.

When

forever from

mortal sight

we

For

in

was sublimely

this rare spirit (far

shall

indifferent to

be the day) passes

hear more from this

be

the

executor of his papers and the delineator of that deep,

still,

daughter Ellen. inward

life.

the most in

she,

all

likelihood,

will

memorable that the men who have achieved letters and in science have always had a woman It is

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

108

standing close beside them within the

homely phrase and holding up

says in build,'

has just come to light

and

to the tender nights, stood

by

veil,

as Carl Schurz

Handing them the bricks while they It their hands when they were weary. how much Sir William Herschel owed :

'

who, through a lifetime of

tireless sister

his side while others slept

who

;

polished

till

numb the mirrors which were to reflect back who had no ambition in life but to be his for him immensity servant who underrated her own achievements that she

her hands grew

;

;

might exalt

and, as her clear vision swept the paths of

his,

own

the spheres, shrank from her

might prove a shadow on seer has a

discoveries of worlds, lest

So

his fame.

woman walking

close

by

the great

it

American

his side, taking the very

thoughts from his mind and translating them for the world,

and

this

woman

is

his daughter."

Literary Opinions.

A

few years ago, an English literary gentleman visited

Emerson

at his

his opinions

are

on

home in Concord, and brought away many literary

recorded

here

:

—

"

and other

A

subjects.

Wordsworth's ode

on

Immortality

touches the high water mark of modern literature.

Walter Savage Landor

will

Matthew Arnold is growing too ness and light have become as heavy

diffusive.

was not

French

Auguste Comte,'

said

'

don't

I

in reply to the question

interested in the positive philosophy.

true genius,

much

much, but

Sainte-Beuve. he considered

He

writer.

.

'

liked Arnold's critical essays very

partial to his poetry.

the great

.

His sweet-

as lead with too

'

He

.

always be read by the select

few.

repetition.

of

few of these

.

.

.

meddle with

whether he was

'Thoreau was a

and so great was his mastery of the phenomena it would need another Linnaeus, as well as a

of nature that poet,

properly

he spoke with

to

edit

his

writings.'

...

admiration, comparing his

Of Buckle

erudition

with

Gibbon's fulness of learning, and cited his chapters on France

"

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. in

109

particular as a splendid contribution to history.

being

Carlyle

Margaret

Emerson defended

mentioned,

Fuller's

'Carlyle purposely

criticism

her

in

letters,,

made exaggerated

astonish his listeners.

.

him

.

.

from

and said that

statements, merely to

His attitude toward America during our

war was unfortunate, but no more than could be expected.' Mr. Emerson's visitor records what Carlyle is reported to have " fleshly

said regarding a distinguished English poet of the school," but the pronunciamento

that

I

dare not venture to give

is

so scathing and unprintable' currency.

it

The "School of Philosophy" at Concord,

1880.

The Concord Correspondent of the "Chicago Tribune"

(Sep-

tember, 1880) gives the following sketch of Emerson at the age of seventy-seven: nose,

—"An old

and awkward

carriage,

man may

with large eyes, prominent often be seen shyly stealing

into the 'School of Philosophy,' just after the beginning of the

Passing through the

lecture.

in

a huge ear-lap chair at the

aisle left

on

tiptoe,

he seats himself

of the platform.

The

lips

of

the Sphinx are sealed, and their peaceful expression and the

far-away look in the eyes would seem to indicate that the discussion going on has not sufficient interest to draw the calm joy of reverie.

forward

now and

But the way

in

him from

which he leans

then to catch the tones of an indistinct

speaker, and the promptitude with which certain

little

red

spots appear on his cheeks whenever a personal allusion or

quotation respectful

is

made, show

attention.

that, after all,

he

overrate the works of his contemporaries.

sublime faith that the coming that he

is

is

listening with

Emerson has a noble propensity

man

will

He

has such

to a.

eventually arrive,

always on the look out for him, and finds his John

the Baptists in eccentric Thoreau and uncouth Whitman, in

whom

so

many

see only insanity.

And

especially does his

unaffected humility place an exaggerated estimate upon the

works and words of

his personal friends.

Thoreau was an

:

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

no

and

original genius,

mother used to say

his

much Mr. Emerson

talks

like

Henry

' :

Some

!

'

Why, how people are

unkind enough to say that the boot was squarely on the other foot,

and that Thoreau was only a parody of

his great friend.

While such statements are grossly unjust, it remains true that the fame of the poet naturalist owes much to the friendship of Emerson, who not only gave him warm encouragement and unstinted in

made himself pecuniarily responsible Walden and The Week might be given

praise,

order that

'

by a

thrown open

last

were

filled

'

'

to the world

hall

but

'

Emerson's house was

hesitating publisher.

Sunday evening, and parlour and study and

with friends from the town and the School of

Mr. and Mrs. Emerson (whose, quaint, sweet face

Philosophy.

and simple, old-fashioned attire suggested to one lady that She might have just stepped off the Mayflower ') bustled

'

around, shaking hands and arranging chairs for the guests.

Then Mr. Emerson rapped upon a door-jamb and said Some of our friends have something to say to us, and we '

shall

be glad to have them begin.'

Mr. Channing, Mr. Alcott,

Miss Peabody and Professor Harris did most of the talking. Mrs. Emerson part whatever.

made The

a single remark, but the host took no

seventy-seventh birthday of Mr. Emer-

son occurred recently.

He

though he walks about

briskly, his

is

feels

the weight of years, and

memory

often thrown into pathetic confusion

faculty.

It

seems very

difficult for

him

by

and he

is failing,

his treacherous

to grasp a

new name.

Moody and Sankey

Joseph Cook called upon him had been in Boston, and he inquired of his just after

been attending the

'

Mosely and

never appeared in public without his

visitor if he had Sukey meetings He faithful maiden daughter !

'

who has the face of a saint and the garb of a Quakeress. She has charge of his manuscripts, and when asked, a few days ago, what lecture her father proposed to read before the She intimated, school, replied that she had not decided.' furthermore, that she might put a veto on his lecturing at all." Ellen,

'

—

:

:

m

MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS.

A Touching Conversation with him in 1881. A visitor at Concord, in August, 1881, records the following " Just

touching conversation with Emerson. of the village, a

little

way back from

fashioned country-seat which

on the outskirts

the street, stands the old-

sacred as being the

is

the Jove of the Concord Immortals, Emerson.

himself came to the door to greet

and with

me

with a

home

still

active step,

countenance unchanged

his placid, inscrutable

of

Mr. Emerson

in

had seen him last. A vein of sadness ran through his striking words as we conversed, which now and then deepened into indescribable pathos as he spoke of the eight years since

I

himself: "

I

'

am

visiting the

respects to you,' "

Summer

School, and called to

pay

my

I said.

thank you,' he replied, and a slight difficulty in articuwas noticeable as he spoke. I am glad to see you yet I fear I can do little. I can only disappoint those who come to see me. I find that I am losing myself, and I wander away from the matter that I have in mind.' There was little to be said, but I made some remark, and he continued " I cannot say much. When I begin I lose myself. And so when my friends come to see me I run away, instead of going to meet them, that I may not make them suffer.' " I spoke of an examining committee on which he had '

I

lation

'

;

'

served at Cambridge, and his face lightened for an instant. '

Yes, yes,' he said, and

'

But

made some

'

see no one now/ he added. Your general health is good,

'

Yes,

personal enquiry of me.

I

"

"

my health

is

I trust ?

good enough,' he

'

I

asked.

replied indifferently.

Then he said slowly, with a wonderful pathos in his voice But when one's wits begin to fail, it is time for the heavens to open and take him away.' " He turned sadly aside, and I left him. More keenly than '

anyone

else

can do, the philosopher realises that age

a shadow upon

his

memory and

is

casting

slowly chilling his faculties."

ralph waldo emerson.

112

Mr. Holyoake's Visit. Mr. George Jacob Holyoake, in the latest chapter of his

American tour in the " Co-operative News," describes " Though tall, he is still erect, a visit he paid to Emerson and has the bright eye and calm grace of manner, we knew when he was in England long years ago. In European eyes, his position among men of letters in America is as that of

recent

;

among English

Carlyle

—

writers

;

with the added quality,

and clearness of that age seemed

as I think, of greater braveness of thought

sympathy.

now

a

little

.

Friends had told

.

.

to impair Mr. Emerson's

recollection of

England accurate and

men told me with

me

memory, but full

I

found his English-

of detail.

pride that in the dark days of the war,

when

American audiences were indignant at England, Emerson would put in his lectures some generous passage concerning this country, and raising himself erect, pronounce it in a defiant tone, as though he threw the words at his audience.

More than any of one

who

other writer

sees facts alive

writes nothing that

Two

is

mean

Emerson gives me the impression and knows their ways, and who or poor."

Characteristic Anecdotes.

Emerson addressed a literary society, during Commencement, at Middlebury, Vermont, and when he ended, the President called upon a clergyman to conclude the service with prayer. Then arose a Massachusetts minister, who stepped into the pulpit Mr. Emerson had just left, and uttered a remarkable prayer, of which this was one

Some twenty

sentence

:

"

We

ever hearing any

years ago

beseech Thee,

have just listened to from diction,

O

Lord, to deliver us from

more such transcendental nonsense this sacred desk."

Mr. Emerson asked his next neighbour the

the officiating clergyman, and

when

with gentle simplicity remarked

:

scientious, plain-spoken

"

as

we

After the bene-

falteringly

He seemed

name

of

answered,

a very con-

man," and went on his peaceful way.

— MISCELLANEOUS RECORDS. "

113

me a nice little story of may conclude. We had a

Mr. Giles, the Irish essayist, told

Emerson, with which rich old merchant,

chapter

this

who was a

tireless talker,

with

whom

our

The good-hearted gentleman

sometimes lodged.

lecturers

caught Mr. Giles one evening and kept him a complaisant but dreadfully weary

listener,

morally button-holed, so to

Then, as they parted

speak, until nearly sunrise.

night, or rather for the morning, the garrulous

and

for the

gratified

you are willing to hear what I have to say Mr. Emerson was here the other night, after he had lectured, and he said he did not wish to monologist said

'I

:

like you,

Mr. Giles

;

;

hear

me

talk

kindest of

—that

he had rather go to

men meant

to

be uncivil

bed.'

Not

—he merely

that the

spoke with

the simplicity and directness of a Greek philosopher."

The Latest Glimpses of Emerson

in his Home.

One of the latest glimpses we have of Emerson, surroundings,

is

who

rican poet,

year (1881).

in his

from the journal of Walt Whitman, the paid a

He

visit to

Concord

in the

Autumn

home Ame-

of last

dined with Emerson and his family, and

spent several hours on two successive days in their company.

The

following sentences

before "

me

I cull

from Whitman's journal now

:

Camden, N.

J.,

Dec.

—

During my last three or and through New England, I Concord, and with Emerson, seeing

1,

1881.

four months' jaunt to Boston

spent such good days at

him under such propitious circumstances, in the calm, peace(nothing in the ful, but most radiant, twilight of his old age becoming and expression so height of his literary action and impressive), that I must give a few impromptu notes of it all.

So

I

devote this cluster entirely to the man, to the place, the

and forming, that memorable and peculiar Personality, now near his 80th year— as I have just seen him there, in his home,— silent, sunny, surrounded by a past,

and

all

leading up

beautiful family."

H

to,

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

ii4

" Concord, Mass., Sept. ij.

better luck befall son, in a

way

me

:

—Never had

I

a better piece of

a long and blessed evening with Emer-

I couldn't

have wished better or

For

different.

nearly two hours he has been placidly sitting where I could see his face in the best light near me.

Mrs.

S.'s

back parlour

with people, neighbours, many fresh and charming women, mostly young, but some old. My friend A. B. Alcott and his daughter Louisa were there early. A good deal of talk, the subject Henry Thoreau some new glints of his life and fortunes, with letters to and from him one of the best by Margaret Fuller, others by Horace Greeley, W. H. Channing, etc. one from Thoreau himself, most quaint and interesting. My seat and the relative arrangement were such well

fill'd

faces,

—

—

—

that,

without being rude or anything of the kind,

look squarely at

On

E.,

which

I

I

could just

did a good part of the two hours.

entering he had spoken very briefly, easily and politely to

several of the trifle

company, then

settled himself in his chair, a

pushed back, and, though a

alert one,

remained

And

sion.

so,

good colour

silent

there

Emerson

sat,

and

looking at him.

I

in his face, eyes clear, with the

sion of sweetness,

and apparently an

listener

through the whole talk and discus-

A

well-known expres-

and the old clear-peering aspect quite the

same." "

An with

Next Day.

— Several hours at

E.'s house,

old familiar house (he has been in

the

surrounding

it

and dinner

there.

thirty-five years),

furnishment, roominess,

and

plain

elegance and fulness, signifying democratic ease, sufficient opulence, and an admirable old-fashioned simplicity modern

—

luxury, with

its

mere sumptuousness and

affectation, either

touched lightly upon, or ignored altogether,

Of

course the

best of the present occasion (Sunday, September i8th 1881) ; was the sight of E. himself. As just said, a healthy colour in

the cheeks, and good light in the eyes, cheery expression, and just the amount of talking that best suited, namely, a word or short phrase only where needed, and almost always with a

;

MR. LOWELL'S VERSE.

Emerson himself, Mrs. E., with their daughter Edward and his wife, with my friend F. S. and

Besides

smile.

Ellen, the son

Mrs.

115

S.,

and

and intimates.

others, relatives

resuming the subject of the evening before

gave

me

further

and

fuller

Mrs. Emerson,

next to

her),

information about Thoreau,

who

(I sat

years ago, during Mr. E.'s absence in Europe in 1848, had

some time

lived for "

that

Let

me

in the family,

by

invitation.

conclude by the. thought, after

me

most impresses

about Emerson.

delirium-disease called book-making,

all

the rest

Amid

is

feverish cohorts

its

said,

the utter fill-

ing our world with every form of dislocation, morbidity, and special type of

anemia or exceptionalism (with the propelling

idea of getting the most possible money,

comforting to life,

and

in

know

of an author

written

spirit,

who

first

of

all),

how

has, through a long

as honestly, spontaneously,

and

—the sanest, most moral, sweetest literary man on record — unsoiled by pecuniary or any other warp — ever teaching the law own only— within — ever loyally outcropping his own innocently, as the sun shines or the wheat grows

truest,

his

self

poetic and devout soul

down and

!

If there be a Spirit above that looks

scans authors, here

is

one at

least in

whom

be well pleased."

EMERSON AND CARLYLE. From

"A

Fable for Critics."

By JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. There comes Emerson first, whose rich words, every one, Are like gold nails in temples to hang trophies on. A Greek head on right Yankee shoulders, whose range Has Olympus for one pole, for t'other the Exchange .

He

seems, to

my

The comparison

thinking (although I'm afraid

must, long ere

this,

have been made),

A Plotinus-Montaigne,

where the Egyptian's gold mist And the Gascon's shrewd wit cheek -by-jowl co-exist; All admire, and yet scarcely six converts he's got To I don't (nor they either) exactly know what;

For though he

He

builds glorious temples,

leaves never a

doorway

'tis

to get in a god.

odd

.

it

might

;

;

—— ——— ;

; ;

;;

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

n6

'Tis refreshing to old-fashioned people like

To meet

In whose mind

As

all

creation

parts of himself, just a

And

me

such a primitive Pagan as he, is

duly respected

little

projected

who's willing to worship the

A convert to—nothing but

stars

and the sun,

Emerson.

So perfect a balance there is in his head, That he talks of things sometimes as if they were dead Life, nature, love, God, and affairs of that sort,

He

looks at as merely ideas ; in short,

As if they were fossils stuck round in a cabinet, Of such vast extent that our earth's a mere dab in Composed just as he is inclined to conjecture her Namely, one part pure

You

it;

earth, ninety-nine parts pure lecturer

are filled with delight at his clear demonstration,

Each With

figure,

word, gesture just

fits

the occasion,

the quiet precision of science he'll sort 'em,

But you can't help suspecting the whole a post mortem. There are persons, mole-blind to the soul's make and style, Who insist on a likeness 'twixt him and Carlyle To compare him with Plato would be vastly fairer, Carlyle's the

He

more

burly, but E.

is

the rarer;

sees fewer objects, but clearlier, truelier

more peculiar; more of a man you might say of the one, Of the other he's more of an Emerson C.'s the Titan, as shaggy of mind as of limb — E., the clear-eyed Olympian, rapid and slim; The one's two-thirds Norseman, the other half Greek, Where the one's most abounding, the other's to seek

If C.'s an original, E.'s

That

he's

C.'s generals require to be seen in the mass, E.'s specialities gain if enlarged

C. gives nature and

And E.

God

his

by the

own

glass

;

of the blues,

fits

rims common-sense things with mystical hues,

sits in

And

a mystery calm and intense,

looks coolly around

C. shews you

how

him with sharp common-sense

every-day matters unite

the dim transdiurnal recesses of night, While E. in a plain, preternatural way, Makes mysteries matters of mere every day. E. is rather like Flaxman, lines straight and severe, And a colourless outline, but full, round, and clear ; To the men he thinks worthy he frankly accords

With

The

design of a white marble statue in words.

C. labours to get at the centre, and then

Take

a reckoning from there of his actions and

E. calmly assumes the said centre as granted,

And, given himself, has whatever

is

wanted.

men

;

manchester speech.

117

Emerson's Speech in Manchester. [This speech (referred to in "Memoir," p. 14) was delivered at a soiree, held under the auspices of the Manchester

Athenasum, at the Free Trade Hall, in November, 1847, under the presidency of Sir A. Alison, the historian, and at which Richard Cobden and other political leaders were present.

Of this meeting Mr. Emerson

Traits:"

"A

few days after

my

says in his " English

arrival

in

Manchester, in

November, 1847, the Manchester Athenaeum gave its annual banquet in the Free Trade Hall. With other guests, I was be present, and to address the company. In looking over recently a newspaper report of my remarks, I invited

to

inclined to reprint I

it

as fully expressing the feeling with which

entered England, and which agrees well enough with the

more

deliberate results of better acquaintance recorded in the

foregoing pages.

Sir Archibald Alison, the historian, presided,

and opened the meeting with a speech. He was followed by Mr. Cobden, Lord Brackley, and others, among whom was Mr. Cruikshank, one of the contributors to Punch.' Mr. '

Dickens's letter of apology for his absence was read. Jerrold,

who had been announced,

Mr.

did not appear."]

—

It is pleasant to me to meet this great and company, and doubly pleasant to see the faces of so many distinguished persons on this platform. But I have known all these persons already. When I was at home they were as near to me as they are to you. The arguments of the League and its leader are known to all the friends of trade. The gaieties and

Mr. Chairman and gentlemen,

brilliant

the social, the parietal wit of "Punch" go duly every boy and girl in Boston and New York. Sir, when I came to sea I found the "History of Europe" on the ship's cabin table, the property of the captain ; a sort of programme or playbill to tell the seafaring New Englander what he shall find on his landing here. And as for Dombey, sir, there, is no land where paper exists to print on where it is not found; no man who can read that does not read it ; and if he cannot he finds some charitable pair of eyes that can, and hears it. But these things are not for me to say; these compliments, though I true, would better come from one who felt and understand these merits more. am not here to exchange civilities with you, but rather to speak of that which I am sure interests these gentlemen more than their own praises; of that which is good in holidays and working days, the same in one century and in another century. That which lures a solitary American in the woods genius,

the political,

fortnight to every

;!

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

n8

with a wish to see England

commanding

is

the moral peculiarity of the

Saxon

race,

sense of right and wrong, the love and devotion to that

—

its

this is

them with the sceptre of the globe. It is this which lies at the foundation of that aristocratic character which certainly wanders into strange vagaries, so that its origin is often lost sight of, but which, if it should lose this, would find itself paralysed ; and in trade, and in the mechanic's shop, gives that honesty in performance, that thoroughness and solidity of work, the imperial trait which arms

which is

is

a national characteristic.

This conscience

that loyal adhesion, that habit of friendship, that

ning through

all classes

which

— the electing of worthy persons to a

superficial attachments of

other races, their excessive courtesy, and short-lived connection.

me

very pedantic, gentlemen, but, holiday though

interest in

think

it

man, run-

to

certain fraternity, to

alike lovely

is

which stands in strong contrast with the

receive it;

one element, and the other

homage of man

and warm and staunch support, from year to year, from youth to and honourable to those who render and those who

acts of kindness

age,

is

any holiday, except as

just, in this

it

celebrates real

be, I

it

You

will think

have not the smallest

and not pretended joys

and

;

I

time of gloom and commercial disaster, of affliction and beg-

on these very accounts I speak of, you should not I seem to hear you say that, for all that is come and gone yet, we will not reduce by one chaplet or one oak leaf the braveries For I must tell you, I was given to understand in my childof our annual feast. hood, that the British island from which my forefathers came was no lotus garden, no paradise of serene sky and roses, and music and merriment all the year round ; no, but a cold, foggy, mournful country, where nothing grew well in the open air, but robust men and virtuous women, and these of a wonderful fibre and endurance gary in these fail

districts,

keep your

to

that,

literary anniversary.

that their best parts were slowly revealed

;

come out until good lovers, good you had seen them long, and

their virtues did not

they quarrelled— they did not strike twelve the

first

time

;

and you could know little about them till good of them till you had seen them in action ; that in prosperity they Is it not true, were moody and dumpish, but in adversity they were grand.

haters, little

sir,

that the wise ancients did not praise the ship parting with flying colours

from the

port,

and battered

And

so,

but only that brave sailer which came back with torn sheets

sides, stripped of

her banners, but having ridden out the storm ?

gentlemen, I feel in regard to this aged England, with her possessions,

honours, and trophies, and also with the infirmities of a thousand years gathering

around her, irretrievably committed as she now is to many old customs which cannot be suddenly changed ; pressed upon by the transitions of trade, and new and I see all incalculable modes, fabrics, arts, machines, and competing populations her not dispirited, not weak, but well remembering that she has seen dark days

—

before

;

indeed, with a kind of instinct that she sees a

little

better in a cloudy

day, and that in storm of battle and calamity she has a secret vigour and a pulse like a cannon. to believe in

I see her in

her old age, not decrepit, but young, and

her power of endurance and expansion.

mother of nations, mother of heroes, with strength

Seeing still

still

this, I say,

daring

All hail

equal to the time

;

still

wise to entertain and swift to execute the policy which the mind and heart of man-

kind requires in the present hour, and thus only hospitable to the foreigner, and truly a home to the thoughtful and generous who are born in the soil. So be it

I

so let

it

be.

If

it

be not

so, if

the courage of England goes with the chances of a

— ARTICLES IN PERIODICALS. commercial

go back

I will

crisis,

my own

Indian stream, and say to elasticity

119

to the capes of Massachusetts,

countrymen, the old race are

and

my own

gone, and the

all

and hope of mankind must henceforth remain on the Alleghany ranges,

or nowhere.

Articles on Emerson and his Writings in the English and American Periodicals.

—

Emerson, R. W. (R. Buchanan) Broadway, 2 223. (J. Burroughs) Galaxy, 21 49.— (G. Gil254, 543.— (Delia M. Colton) Continental Monthly, 1 :

:

:

Magazine,

fillan) Tait's

27

:

26

:

90.

— (G.

152.

345.

Series, 15

Prentice) Methodist

—North

— Same

New

art.,

17.

:

—

O'Connor) Catholic World, Dublin Review, 24 357.

(J.

Quarterly,

—

:

—

Review, 47 Westminster Review, 33 319. Living Age, .16 Blackwood, 62 97. (F. H. 643. British

:

:

—

:

Underwood) North American Review, 130

—

:

485.

:

Boston Quarterly, 1 500. Address on Forefather's Day. (I. N. Tarbox) New Englander, 30 175. and his Writings. (G. Barmby) Howitt's Journal, 2 315. —Christian Review, 26 640. and History. Southern Literary Messenger, IS 249. Address, July, 1838.

:

:

:

:

:

and Landor. Living Age, 52: 371. and the Pantheists. (H. Hemming) New Dominion Monthly, 8 65. and Transcendentalism. American Whig Review, I 233. and Spencer and Martineau. (W. R. Alger) Christian Examiner, 84 257. :

:

:

Conduct of Life. Review, 46 365.

(N.

New

Porter)

Englander,

19

496.

:

— Eclectic

:

Culture Essays.

Fraser, 78

of. '

I.

:

Same

Democratic Review, 16

art.,

589.

:

Living Age, 98

—Eclectic

—

358.

:

Magazine, 18

546.

:

Living Age, 4 139; 23 344. (C. C. Felton) Christian Examiner, 30 252. 667. Boston Quarterly, 4 391. Biblical Review, 1 Eclectic Review, 76 :

:

—

:

148.

— Eclectic

Review, 76

Magazine, new

series,

8

:

:

—

:

;

667.

— Prospective

Review,

1

:

232.

:

— Tait's

666.

Chambers' Journal, 21 382. Homes and Haunts of. (F. B. Sanborn) Scribner, 17: 496. Howitt's Journal, 2 370. Lectures at Manchester, England. Facts about.

:

:

and Writings of. Letters and Social Aims.

Lectures

New Lectures.

New

Every Saturday, 3

:

680

International Review, 3

—

:

;

4

:

381.

249.

Christian Review, 15 249. 4 430. American Whig Review, 6: 197. (C._A. Bartol) Christian Examiner, 42: 250. Southern Literary 319. Messenger, 13 292. Brownson, 4: 262. Democratic Review, I

Poems

of.

Englander, 8

:

(C. E. Norton) Nation,

166. :

:

—

—

—

:

—

—

:

Christian Remembrancer, 15: 300.

Prose Works.

Catholic World,

Recent Lectures and Writings.

Age, 93= 58 1.

n

:

202.

Fraser, 75

:

586.

— Same

art,,

Living

"

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

120

Emerson, R. W.

Representative Men.

— Eclectic Review, 95

314.

Society

and Solitude.

Writings.

(F.

568.

:

Fraser, 82:

48

:

281.

:

87.— (J. W.

Alex-

539.

:

Foreign Translations in

:

1.

H. Hedge) Christian Examiner, 38

ander) Princeton Review, 13

Edgar Quinet,

(C. A. Bartol) Christian Examiner,

— British Quarterly, n

of,

and Articles on, Emerson.

a volume of Lectures on " Christianity and the French Revolu-

" America and the Reformation,'' in which he Emerson " In this North America, which is

tion," 1845, devotes one to

thus expresses his opinion of

:

—

pictured to us as so materialistic, I find the most ideal writer of our times.

German Philosophy with the inspiration, the initiaThe author I have just named is proof enough that bold pioneers are at work in America pursuing the quest of truth What we announce in Europe from the summit of a in the moral world. Contrast the formulas of

tive,

the moral ilan of Emerson.

revived past, he also announces from the germinating solitude of a world

On

absolutely new.

man, and a man who

the virgin soil of the is

new world behold

moving toward the

future

the footsteps of a

by the same road that we

are going.

"Revue Independante, " 1846, the Countess D'Agoult, under her pseudonym of "Daniel Stern," has an article on "The Literary Tendencies of America," in whichEmerson is highly appreciated. Philarete Chasles also

In the

wrote about him.

Emile Montegut, in the "Revue des Deux Mondes," has written on Emerson in an article entitled "An American Thinker and Poet," 1847. "Hero Worship " English Character judged by an American," Emerson and Carlyle," 1850.

:

1856.

Herman Grimm,

in 1857, published a translation of

"Shakespeare"

Some

author, I-I.

Emerson's "Goethe" and

"Representative Men, " with a criticism on his writings. sentences from this criticism, as well as from another work by the same

"New

Wolff gives a

in

Essays," will be found at page 36, "Memoir.' of Emerson in a Dutch work, published at Bois le Due,

life

1871, entitled " Prophets of

A.

IRELAND AND

Modern Date."

CO.,

PRINTERS, PALL MALL, MANCHESTER.

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