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http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022107662
RALPH WALDO EMERSON
ESTIMATE OF
AJi/
ms CHARACTER AND
GENIUS
3n ^ro0c an& (Peree
A.
BRONSON ALCOTT
ILLUSTRATED
LONDON ELI,K)T STOCK,
62
PATERNOSTER ROW,
E.
C
"JZofTTE^ Y&g ol id nEip&VTa dgi/u/ima dalkdv ^ rtva xagnov nQooslovieg Hyovat, oi e/iol Xdyovg oBtco nqo-
islvcov
aixaaav
ev
^iยงi.toig
xa'i
ojiot
Tjiv
te 'Atxixtiv
&v dXkoaE
<palvai
Plato, Phcsdr.
" For as
men
me
p. 230
D.
lead hungry creatures by holding out
a green bough or an apple, so you,
might lead
nBQi&^e.iv
^oiXj],
about
all
Attica
you please, by holding toward
me
it
would seem,
and wherever
else
discourses out of
your books." Plato.
RALPH WALDO EMERSON TO
MARY
STEARNS.
E.
Concord,
My
July
5,
1865.
dear Mrs. Stearns.
The gift of the birthday was truly a " surprise." There lay a more beautiful book than Aldus or Elzevir ever made, slipped into the house as carelessly as a roseleaf or a dandelion-down blown in at the window.
Mr. Alcott'snote indicated a "friend," without naming
him or
her.
And when
I
came
to read the text, that,
was such a Persian superlative on the poor merits of the subject, that I had to shade my eyes as if to too,
accept only a part of the meaning. belief in
my good
suffered
more than
admire the
sense,
if I
I enjoyed
lyrical tone
of
may shake your know but I
I
say I don't ;
but
all this
I
soon came
to
remarkable writing,
inspired by the most generous sentiment, fortified, too, by the wish to convey the good-will of other friends who made him their spokesman. So I made a cove-
nant with myself to join these friends in ignoring the infirm actuaUty, stoutly holding
up the
ideal outline of
VI the poor
man we were
talking of.
And now
I
have
learned to look at the book with courage, and at least to
thank the friends who jointly completed
it,
very
and exquisite work of kindness. I have been twice tempted to send you some verses on this occasion, as they would be really more fit carriers of what I have to say ; and perhaps I yet shall, though the rhyming fit seldom comes to me. Ever gratefully. Your deeply obliged, heartily, for this rare
R. Mrs.
Mary
E. Stearns.
W. EMERSON.
PUBLISHERS' PREFACE.
The publishers have here presented a book about Emerson, written by the one man who stood nearest to him of all men ; one from whom he drew inspiration in generous measure, and to whom, in return, he without reserve his inmost
discovered
book cannot
fail
to
be an
tion to Emersoniana.
original
Not
to
and
self.
Such a
vital contribu-
read
it,
is
to
miss
a clear and searching exegesis of one whose name has It been called the greatest in American literature. a portrait of one of the old masters, painted by
is like
own brush. The introductory sonnet
his
a
lofty key,
and condenses
to
Emerson
is
pitched in
into fourteen pithy lines a
statement of the author's life-long debt Of friendship
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; material
and
spiritual.
The
essay itself was
written twenty-odd years ago, while Mr. Alcott was still
in the full vigor of his intellect.
It
was privately
and presented to Emerson on his birthday. A limited edition was published for the first time in 1882, and readily sold. The revision and reading of the proof-sheets of this edition was the last literary printed,
Vlll
work which Mr. Alcott did, previous to the stroke of paralysis which deprived him of the perfect control >of his faculties, and kept him a prisoner in his room ever afterward. It was a work occupying several months, as the octogenarian's
visits to
Boston were
somewhat infrequent, and often including other business. Such moments as he could give were, of course, valuable ; and the publishers, at whose suggestion the work was undertaken, would meet him, now in the topmost story of some lofty building, and now in some dim-lighted basement, where together they would go
over the unfinished sheets,
nonce,
all
— time
gliding
by
for the
unheeded.
So anxious was Mr. Alcott that
work on Emer-
his
son should some day be given to the world, that grasp of "
many
things,
after
memory had lost its and among others, of his recent
when
his paralytic shock,
his
—
on his newly published book, a copy of which he had not seen, he still remembered his former labors
—
earnest wish that
one of
it
his friends,
should be
who
made
public.
And
to
spent several hours with him
each week, he remarked with much excitement, on two or three occasions, that his essay must be brought out at once ; insisting that it should be published in the philosophical magazine which his friend edited.
copy of the book was brought to him, greatly and delight. This is all the more touching an incident of his friendship for the great Finally a
to his astonishment
IX
Emerson, when
it
is
remembered
than once said that " survived him, since
it
that the latter
would be a pity
if
more
Alcott
he alone possessed the means
of showing to the world what Alcott really was." (Cabot's
Memoir of Emerson,
vol.
i.
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
p. 281.)
The book also contains Alcott's " Ion a Monody," read by him at the Concord School of Philosophy, and to which Mr. John Albee, in " The New- York Tri:
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
bune," paid the following high praise for
:
"
It
continues
us that tender strain bequeathed by Moschus's
'
Lament
'
Adonais
for Bion,' Milton's ; '
but
it
'
Lycidas,'
and
Shelley's
has a pathos and. beauty
all
its
tone and in art." Mr. Sanborn's ode to Emerson, " The Poet's Coun-
own,
.
.
.
faultless in
Concord School, completes makes a worthy addition to that lofty
tersign," also read at the
the volume, arid
form of verse that has enriched the ages,
from Pindar to Tennyson.
literatures of all
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Portrait of Ralph
Waldo Emerson ) V
Portrait of A. Bronson Alcott Emerson's House at Concord Emerson's Summer House
.
.
.
Frontispieces
) i
56
The Summer School of Philosophy
59
Mr. Alcott's Study
67
Bridge at Concord
8i
CONTENTS. Page. I
Essay '^
Monody Odk
^' .
.
.
;
Misfortune to have lived not knowing thee 'T were not high
Who, dwelling Rich
To Thy
nor to noblest end,
near, learned not sincerity,
friendship's
life
living,
!
ornament that
doth lend
still
consequence and propriety.
its
my
fellowship was
culture, noble friend
!
By
the hand thou took'st me, and did'st condescend
To
bring
And By
life-long
straightway into thy fair guild
hath
that to have
Given
Permit
it
been high compliment
been known, and thy friend
to rare thought
Whilst in
A
me
my
me
straits
and
to
good learning bentj
an angel on
then, thus honored,
scholar in thy university.
styled.
me
still
smiled.
to be
iiWEKMJN's HiilsE
surprise
and
delight.
And
good
all
epic
poets were thought to compose, not by
and
choice, but
by
good
poets drew, they
lyric
inspiration
;
so, too, the
us, "
tell
from
fountains flowing with nectar, and gathered
the gardens and glades of
flowers from
the Muses; they, like bees, being ever on
wing.
the
For
the poet was a
thing
light-winged and sacred, unable to com-
pose until he became inspired, and the imagination was no longer under his control.
For as long as he was
plete
possession
to
of
compose verses or
And hence all by them, not
he was
it,
in
comunable
to speak oracularly."
noble numbers were credited
to the poet
whom
but to the Power working
in
they knew,
and through
3
him, and making auditors
him the most delighted of
whenever he chanted
his verses,
because he did not conceive them to be
He was
his.
Hence the value they
Nine.
the
upon
the Voice, the favored of
The
divination.
must be most
the
as
discipline
means of poetic they
poet,
virtuous.
conceived,
was
It
essential
he be chaste,
to his accomplishment that
he be gentle, that he be noble
that
generation, that his
endowment be
than
himself;
he
race
of
culture
ideas
him his
of
that
pure souls, in
his
ages
to conceive
descend
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; bring
descent in
by
his
set
older
from a
centuries of
among
brain,
instinct,
in his
men,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; enabling and
speak
experiences unconsciously, as a child
4 opens
his
lips,
his
in
most
rapturous
Therefore, any pretence of own-
accents.
the gift was esteemed
ership in
an im-
For a prayer, a song, a tender
piety.
a
tone,
glance
of
the
eye,
all
those
magnetic attractions known to friendship,
had a
primarily, as their Is
perspiially,
we became worthy
pf being
organs. it
an egotism
England and parts
were ours
like ancestry;
in
for a
us to claim for
Nfw
contemporary of purs
and antecedents
like these ? or shall
such endowments, admirable always, and
awakening enthusiasm, be the
when represented
in a
less prized
countryman of
purs,
and when we have so frequently partaken of
the
pleasure
which
his
books,
his
.
5
lectures
excite?
especially,
A
Emerson.
course,
to
genius,
and
I
allude, of
rhapsodist
by
his
his
the chief of
class,
utterances are ever a surprise as they are
a delight to his audiences these are, and not
all
select
;
though
unworthy of him.
Hear how Goethe describes him, where his
in
letters
rhapsodist
"A
to
who,
in
calm his auditors,
He
it
in
excite
;
his
than to
order that they shall
him with contentment and long.
apportions
cause
the
calm thought-
shows what has happened
discourse aiming less to
listen to
calls
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
wise man,
fulness,
he
Schiller,
is
the
interest
equally,
be-
not in his power to balance a
too lively impression.
He
grasps back-
— 6
wards and forwards
at
He
pleasure.
do with
followed, because he has only to
the imagination, which of
and up
images, is
indifferent
to
produces
itself
degree,
a certain
what kind he
is
calls up.
it
He
does not appear to his auditors, but
were behind a curtain
cites, as it is
;
re-
so there
a total abstraction from himself, and
seems
to
them
as
it
though they heard only
the voice of the Muses."
See our Ion standing dience,
himself an
Genius
he
manuscript,
his
auditor,
sitting
as
there,
—
his
before
au-
him,
he reads, of the
behind him, and to
whom
defers, eagerly catching the words,
the words,
—
reaching
his
as
if
ears
the accents were too,
and
—
first
entrancing
7
alike oracle
and
We
auditor.
admire the
stately sense, the splendor of diction,
as
surprised
are
hesitancy
we
between
Even
listen.
the
and
delivery
his
of
his
periods, his perilous passages from para-
graph
to
paragraph
of
have almost learned to
we
manuscript,
like, as if
he were
but sorting his keys meanwhile for opening his cabinets; the spring of locks
fol-
lowing, himself seeming as eager as any
of us
to get sight
of his specimens, as
they come forth from their proper drawers
;
and we wait willingly
out glittering; scarcely less
admire
till
the
than the jewel
magic minstrel and speaker oric,
!
his
gem
is
setting,
too,
itself.
The
whose
voiced as by organ-stops,
rhet-
delivers
8
from
sentiment
the
dences ing
peculiar
as his
mood and
in
now
himself;
to
on the
forth
it
breast
his
ca-
hurl-
echoing; then,
ear,
matter invite
dying
it,
like " Music of mild lutes
Or Or
coated
flutes.
the concealing winds that can convey
Never
He
silver
their tone to the rude ear of day."
works
Hermes
did,
his his
with
miracles
conducting
voice
sense alike to eye and ear by
movement and
it,
its
refraining melody.
as
the
lyrical
So
his
compositions affect us, not as logic linked in
syllogisms,
but as voluntaries rather,
or preludes, in which one
any design of
air,
but
or note at pleasure, as
is
not tied to
may vary if
his
key
improvised with-
out any particular scope of argument period, each
note
in
being a
however
itself,
chime with piece; as
paragraph,
may chance
it
dazzles
by
circuits,
His rhet-
Imagination, as in
sprightly
;
minds,
being his wand of power.
ways
in his
he build
his
his
own
own
piers
all
He
and
paths, too,
fashion.
an-
contrasts,
titheses
comes along
the
in
of wandering stars, a
a waltz
dance of Hesperus with Orion. oric
each
perfect
accompaniments
its
;
al-
What though
downwards from the
firmament to the tumbling
and so
tides,
throw his radiant span across the fissures of his
argument, and himself pass over
the frolic arches, less
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Ariel-wise, â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
admirable, the
masonry
is
the
less
skill
secure
lO for
its
So
singularity?
his
books
are
best read as irregular writings, in which the sentiment
is,
by
his enthusiasm, trans-
fused throughout the piece, telling on the
mind
in
cadences of a current under-song,
and giving the impression of a connected whole
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; which
it
seldom
rhapsodist's cunning
is,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; such
the
is
in its structure
and
delivery.
The highest compliment we can pay the scholar
instructed us,
the
that of having edified
is
we know
and
not how, unless by
pleasure his words
have given
Conceive how much the Lyceum owes his presence
debt of
and teachings
many
to
him
to
;
for
how
us.
to
great the
their
hour's
II
entertainment.
His,
any
if
institution pass into history,
more than
another's, has
beauty, and
made
resort,
it
our purest
entertainment for
Western
cities.
one's, let the''
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; since
clothed
his art, it
with
the place of popular
organ
of
intellectual
New England and
And, besides
the
this, its im^j
mediate value to his auditors everywhere, it
has been serviceable
in
ways they
least
suspect; most of his works, having had their first readings
on
its
platform, were
here fashioned and polished in good part, like Plutarch's Morals, to
acceptable
to
readers
become the more
of
his
published
books.
And
is
not the
omen
auspicious, that
just now, during these winter evenings, at
;
12
the
opening of
this
Sundays have come round again tropoHs,
eager,
words.
Does
touches
?
He
of
as it
Ms
victorious year,
to
old,
matter what
adorns
all
with
the me-
;
hear
his
topic
he
a
severe
sententious beauty, a freshness and sanction next to that of godliness, in spirit
"
and
The
Teach man
And when
if
not that
effect.
princely mind, that can to keep a
God
in
man
wise poets would search out to see
Good men, behold them
all
in thee."
'Tis near thirty years since his first book,
entitled " Nature,"
was printed.
Then
fol-
lowed volumes of Essays, Poems, Orations, Addresses period
and during
down
all
the intervening
to the present,
he has read
13 briefs of his lectures
through a wide range,
from Canada to the Capitol the Free States
;
in
most
in the large cities,
;
and West, before large audiences
;
of
East
in the
smallest towns and to the humblest companies.
Such has been
mind of
his
his appeal to the
countrymen, such his accept-
ance by them. the principal
He
cities
has read lectures in
A
of England also.
poet, speaking to individuals as few others
can speak, and to persons in their privileged moments, he must be heard as none others are
more
.
The more personal he
prevailing,
if
is,
the
not the more popular.
Because the poet, accosting the heart of man, speaks to
one with
all
him
mankind.
personally, he
And
if
is
he speak
14
eloquent words, these words must be cherished by mankind,
— belonging
as they
do
to the essence of man's personality, and,
partaking of the qualities of his Creator,
While,
they are of spiritual significance. so far as he
other
man,
is
individual only,
—
aptitudes in separate persons
belong, not to only,
and
those
who
all
special
and he
;
will
times, but to one time
pass away,
will
— unlike any
address
his verses
in
delight in that
—
except to
special
mani-
festation of his gifts.
Now
were Emerson
less individual, ac-
cording to our distinction, that personal and
America,
much
national,
— then
the
more
—
were
diffusive,
as
his
is,
more
American
as
influence
so
and he the
Priest
15
of the Faith earnest hearts are seekincr.
Not
that reUgion
England most
;
is
but that
part, too
wanting here its
in
New
seekers are, for the
exclusive to seek
pendent of some human
leader,
it
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
inde-
religion
being a personal oneness with the Person of Persons
;
Him by
a partaking of
put-
ting off the individualism which distracts
and separates man
from
man.
Hence
differing sects, persuasions, creeds, bibles, for separate
earth
;
peoples, prevail
religions,
being
still
and universal, not personal as yet in their differences.
all
over the
many, not one ;
similar only f'
Still
the re-
ligious sentiment, in binding all souls to
the Personal One,
take of
him
in
makes the many
par-
degrees lesser or greater.
;
i6
Thus
far,
the poets
measure
largest
in
mankind receiving through them been
revelations, they having
oracles till
purest
inspired
its
and teachers from the beginning
The Sacred Books,
now.
these
its
Poems
in
spirit,
if
inspired bards
Meant
men
in all
not
not in form
their authors for all
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; are
?
of divinity?
ages and
states,
they appeal forever to the springing faiths of every age, and so are permanent and perennial, as the heart itself and
ever-
its
lasting hopes.
See how the Christian Theism, stance, has
held
men's heads
above
all
till
cavil
itself
now
;
for in-
high above most its
tender truths
and debate by
scendent purity and ideal
their tran-
beauty
!
how
17
these
truths
survive
still
in
their
all
freshness, keeping verdant the Founder's
memory
and
!
churches,
shall to distant generations
peoples,
;
a widening
persons,
Christendom, flourishing or fading as they spring forth, or
fall
away from
this living
stem.
"The Son
of
Brother of Grafts,
Man,
all
Now, am spiring this to
men, and the Prince of Peace,
I
service,
and the wit of Greece."
saying that our poet fresher
Faith
be so understood
est of its bards
always, 'tis
teachings
;
woman,
on the solemn valor of the Roman,
Fresh Saxon
mean
at last the son of
?
;
and heralds.
implied, defective,
is
Certainly
I
he, the chief-
Not spoken
nevertheless, in it is
in-
his
admitted, as col-
ored by his temperament, which trenches Personal Theism
on
stress
not a
Httle
he lays on Nature, on Fate
nearly complementing the
Puritanism than aught
we
;
by the
yet more
New England have, and com-
ing nearest to satisfying the aspirations of
our time.
But
it
were the
last
thought of
of any
this conceiving himself the oracle
Faith, the leader of
of religionists. literary
;
his,
any school, any sect
His
genius
ethical,
is
he speaks to the moral
senti-
ments through the imagination, insinuating the virtues so, as poets and moralists
of his class are wont. the Priests, differ the
moral
The Sacred
in this,
sentiment
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; they
directly,
Class,
address
thus
en-
-
19 forcing the
sanctions
personal right-
of
eousness, and celebrating moral excellence
prophetic strain.
in
'Tis everything to have a true believer; in the world,
dealing with
-and mat-
they were divine in idea and
ters
as
if
real
in
fact
;
meeting persons and events
a glance directly, not at a million re-
at
moves, and so passing life
and
literature,
ment of the Pure
fruits
phies il
and fresh into
race.
literatures
a people.
fair
the delight and orna-
are
tions, springing fresh
of
men
They
personal
inspira-
from the Genius of
are original
being verses, essays,
;
their
first
tales, biogra-
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; productions as often of obscure as
ustrious persons.
And
such, so far as
.
20
we have
a literature,
how much and
style,
elsewhere
American
is
is
ours.
foreign
both
in
!
His,
I
by
substance
consider original and
the earliest, purest
;
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; best
our coun-
answering
needs of the American mind.
how
the rest,
and might have been produced
has produced,
try
Of
the
Consider
largely our letters have been enriched
Consider, too,
his contributions.
change
his
views have wrought
methods of thinking
;
in
the
our
how he has won
over the bigot, the unbeliever, at least to tolerance
and moderation,
knowledgment, by
if
not to ac-
his circumspection
candor of statement. " His shining armor ÂŤ A perfect cliarmer;
and
21
"Even the homes Allow him
And Upon
Ill's
thought has a place
the well-bound library's chaste shelves,
Where man of
Am
of divinity
a brief space,
I
vaiious
wisdom
rarely delves."
extravagant in believing that our
people are more indebted to his teachings than
any other person who has
to
spoken or written on the last twenty years,
his
themes during
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; are more
indebted
more so
than they know, becoming
still
and
pass into the
that,
as his thoughts
brain of the
seen that
coming generation,
we have had
at least
it
will
?
be
one mind of
home growth,
if
not independent of the
old country
I
consider his genius the
?
measure and present expansion
American mind.
And
it
is
of
the
plain that he.
22
be read and
to
is
prized
years
for
to
Poet and moralist, he has beauty
come.
and truth
men's edification and de-
for all
His works are
light.
And any
studies.
youth of free senses and fresh affections shall
be spared years of tedious
which wisdom and the
most
arm's
at
planet's width, from his grasp,
uating from this college.
surcharged sprightly sense, tile
with
wit.
length,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; by grad-
thoughts,
They abound
noble
in
His books are
vigorous
happy humor, keen
insights,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
learning are, for
fair
held
part,
toil,
in
a
strong
criticisms, sub-
morals,
clothed in a
chaste and manly diction, and fresh with
the breath of health and progress.
We
characterize
and
class
him with the
2?>
moralists
who
us with
surprise
dental wisdom, strokes of wit, phrase,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; as
Marcus
acci-
felicities
of
Seneca, Epictetus,
Plutarch,
Antoninus,
an
Saadi,
Montaigne,
Bacon, Sir Thomas Browne, Goethe, Coleridge,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; with
withstanding us,
we
still
whose all
delightful essays, not-
the
they give
pleasure
plead our disappointment at
not having been admitted to the closer intimacy which these loyal leaves had with their owner's
mind before torn from
notebook; jealous, even,
been taken into editing
We
his
at
^t
confidence
his
having in
the
itself.
read, never as
matist, but a
if
he were
vthe
dog-
fair-speaking mind, frankly
declaring his convictions, and committing
24
we may
these to our consideration, hoping
have thought
like things ourselves
;
often-
indeed, taking this for granted as he
est,
There
wrote.
is
nothing of the
proselyting, but the delightful
of
spirit
deference
ever to our free sense and right of opin-
He
ion.
might take
motto the
his
for
sentiment of Henry More, where, speaking of himself, he says: quisition
"Exquisite
begets diffidence
;
dis-
m
diffidence
knowledge, humility; humility,. good manners
and meek
part, I desire
write
no man to take anything
or speak
vassing,
upon
trust
elsewhere
to assert
written
what
or
I
without can-
and would be thought rather
propound than or
my
For
conversation.
I
to
have here
spoken.
But
25 continually to
dence
in the
have
expressed
my
diffi-
very tractates and colloquies
themselves, had been languid and ridiculous."
Then he has chosen manner
for saying his
a proper time and
good things
;
has
spoken to almost every great interest as it
rose.
Nor has he
tunities pass
them
for
let
the good oppor-
unheeded, or
himself.
He
failed to
make
has taken discre-
tion along as his constant attendant ally
;
has shown
how
the gentlest temper
ever deals the surest blows. is
and
His method
that of the sun against his rival for the
cloak,
and so he
is
free
from any madness
of those, who, forgetting the strength of
the solar ray, go blustering against men's
26 prejudices, at
as
the wearers would
if
run
once against these winds of opposition
arms
into their
for shelter.
What
higher
can we bestow on any one than
praise
to say of him, that
he harbors another's
prejudices with a hospitality so cordial as to give him, for the time, the
next best
to,
if,
indeed,
civil
Yet
distracts
for his
How
mankind rnore than the un-
amendment
were
all
different
given is
associated! is
the
letters, love, Chris-
!
he in temper and man-
ners from Carlyle, with
part,
edifica-
manners that cleave man from man?
tianity,
larly
be not
For what disturbs
tion in, charity itself?
and
it
sympathy
whom he
is
popu-
but who, for the most
polemic,
the
sophist,
the
27 scorner:
whose books, opened anywhere,
show him berating the wrong he but seeing,
shows
removing.
Ever the
never
means of
the
same
sees,
melancholy
advocacy of work to be done under the dread master; force of stroke, the right to
rule
and be
ever the dismal
Doomsday books
burden. his
ruled,
earliest
the arbiter. fiercely as
are
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Rhadamanthus He did
rides his
his
save
all
sitting
and
Leviathan as
countryman, Hobbes,
and can be as truculent and abusive; the British
Taurus, and a
he not thus possessed earnest,
we should
mad
one.
and
fearfully
in
take him for the har-
lequin he seems, nor see the
sadness playing off
Were
its
sorrowing
load in this gro-
28 tesque mirth, this scornful irony of his;
he painting traits fire
warmth of admiration, the
the
in
spite of himself his por-
in
of wrath, and giving mythology for
history;
into
all
the while distorting the facts
grimace
in
his
grim moods.
Yet,
what breadth of perspective, strength of outline!
realism
the
how
egotism how enormous,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
appalling,
all
the
history show-
ing in the background of the one figure,
Burns, Goethe,
Carlyle.
beau,
Cromwell,
Luther,
dashed from himself,
his
alike
in
Frederick,
flashing their
;
all
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
all
pen, heads of
unlikeness,
digiously individual, willful,
monstrous
Mira-
Richter,
pro-
some of them
Englishmen
with
egregious prejudices and pride
;
their
no pa-
;
29 tience,
no repose
dishes
his
He
in any.
for any, save the
this
he,
unsafe
temper, to do battle against
Abaddon.
;
it
few that wield weapons
Silenced he will not be
talking terribly against
own
bran-
truncheon through his pages
with an adroitness that renders
of celestial
still
all
talking but his
agreeing, disagreeing,
the Jove,
all
the same
permitting none, none
mount Olympus, lence and invites.
the
till
god deigns
;
to si-
Curious to see him,
his chin aloft, the pent thunders rolling,
lightnings
darting from
brows, words that
tell
under the bold
of the wail within,
accents not meant for music, lyrical
refrain
in ;
yet
made
the cadences of his Caledonian
his mirth
mad
as Lear's, his hu-
:
30
mor is
Not himself
as willful as the wind's.
And
approachable by himself even.
Emerson
is
serving a moment's
Him
eyes.
only American de-
the one
consideration
in
his
he honors and owns the bet-
giving him the precedence and the
ter,
manners "Had
wolves and lions seen but thee,
They must have paused
to learn civility."
Of Emerson's books designing to speak
genius
and
I
may
of "Traits" deserves
one
may
in
am
critically,
personal
Yet, in passing,
I
not here
but of his
influence
rather.
say, that his
to
book
be honored as
which England, Old and New,
take honest pride, as being the live-
31 liest
of
portraiture
accomplishments,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;a
book, like
Tacitus,
be quoted as a masterpiece of
to
and
genius
British
histor-
New
painting, and perpetuating the
ical
Englander's fame with that of his race. 'Tis
a
victory
eyes
of
triumph of ideas.
hands,
over
Nor, in
my
judgment,
has there been for some time any
cism of a
people
complete.
It
justice to
New
sician,
characteristic
a metaphy-
rightly discarding
any claims
England.
thinking; ;
a poet in
the
spirit,
the consistent ideal-
yet the realist none the
illustrated
and
remains for him to do like
not always in form
ist,
criti-
Not
systematic
to if
and
so
a
learning
and
less,
he has
thought
of
former times on the noblest themes, and
;
32
come nearest of any mind of
to emancipating the
the errors and
own time from
his
dreams of past ages.
Why
nibble longer there,
Where nothing
Upon
Lo
!
fair
pasture here your mind,
Ye
readers
those rocks?
meadows green and
Come
There
fresh ye find,
bleating flocks.
is
a virtuous
curiosity
of
remarkable
books
felt
to
something more of their author's tastes, habits
ordinarily is
by
learn
literary
and dispositions than these
furnish.
Yet,
to
gratify
this
a task as difficult as delicate, requiring
a diflfidency akin to that with which one
33
would accost the author
and with-
himself,
out which graceful armor
it
were imperti-
nent for a friend even to undertake
We
may venture but
it.
or two
a stroke
here.
All
men
love
the
mankind with a wholesome
makes good
love
and have
love,
poetry and company in them. ist
who
country
Our
this preference.
essayIf
city
bred, he has been for the best part of his life
and countryman.
a villager
traveller at times professionally,
home-keeping scape;
is
;
is
Only a
he prefers
a student of the land-
no recluse misanthrope, but a
lover of his neighborhood, of mankind, of
rugged strength wherever found plain
persons, plain
;
liking
ways, plain clothes
;
34
shuns its
publicity, likes solitude,
He
uses.
cle
not
than
less
broadest views
seeks
all
a
and so
Delighting
men and
of
accessible
his
and knows
pleasure,
in the
things,
he
displays of both for
And
and works.
draping his thoughts is
egotists,
courts society as a specta-
carries off the spoils.
how
hates
people,
earnest
prefers
page produced
?
Is
it
im-
aginable that he conceives his piece as a
whole,
and
then
his task at a heat
able rather,
down
sits ?
Is
and the key
hension of his works
?
studies,
execute
not this imaginto
the compre-
Living for com-
position as few authors can,
company,
to
and holding
sleep, exercise,
affairs,
subservient to thought, his products are
35
gathered as they ripen, and stored
commonplaces at
intervals,
of ideas, of
contents transcribed
the
;
and
in his
The order
classified.
imagination,
observed
is
the arrangement, not that of logical
quence.
You may begin
a
is
'Tis Iris-built.
self-poised; there
may be
chasm of years between the opening
passage and the
last
time
in
is
se-
at the last para-
graph and read backwards.
Each period
in
endless
Jewels
all
have them
!
separate in
that,
if
You
stars. if
and there
composition.
the
a galaxy,
view them separate and
one knows
written,
you
apart.
maj'
like,
or
But every
he take an essay or
may have
verses,
however
pleased
himself with the cunning work-
the
writer
;
36 manship, there
'tis
all
cloud- fashioned,
and
any one
else.
no pathway
is
for
Cross as you can, or not cross, ters not circles,
;
you may climb or
leap,
mat-
it
move
in
turn somersaults
" In sympathetic sorrow sweep the ground,"
his
like
views, far,
fair
projects,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; yet
sions.
swallow in Merlin.
Here
weather
is
all,
not
substance, sod, sun
;
illu-
much
in the seer as in his leaves.
quarternion
sidereal
these periods.
year, has
of
the
seasons,
been poured into
Afternoon walks furnished
the perspectives, rounded
them.
and
open wide
earth, sky, realities
The whole the
vistas
Dissolving
and melodized
These good things have
all
been
37 talked and slept over, meditated standing
and
read and polished in the ut-
sitting,
terance,
submitted
and,
accepted,
so
Light
were the
fancies,
set
on
fields,
shores,
by
home and
all
various
they pass
dreams,
foot,-
into
moods,
tests,
print.
refrains,
and sent jaunting about
along wood-paths, by Walden hill
and brook-sides,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
to
come
claim their rank and honors too
in his pages.
Composed of surrounding
populous
matters,
to
with
thoughts,
brisk
with images, these books are wholesome,
and could have been written
homelike,
only in
New
England,
in
Concord, and by
our poet. "Because
I
was content with these poor
fields,
Low, open meads, slender and sluggish streams,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
;
38 And found
home
a
which
haunts
in
others
scorned.
The
partial
wood-gods overpaid
And granted me
And
the freedom of their state
in their secret senate
With the
dear,
my love, ;
have prevailed
dangerous lords that rule our
life,
Made moon
and planets parties to their bond,
And
my rock-like,
through
solitary
wont
Shot million rays of thought and tenderness.
For me, in showers,
in
sweeping
showers, the
spring. Visits the valley; I
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; break away the clouds,
bathe in the morn's soft and silvered
And
loiter willing
Sparrows far
off,
by yon
air,
loitering stream.
and nearer,
April's bird,
Blue-coated, flying before from tree to tree.
Courageous, sing a delicate overture
To
lead the tardy concert of the year.
Onward and nearer
And wide
rides the sun of
around, the marriage of the plants
Is sweetly solemnized.
The
May
Then
flows
amain
surge of summer's beauty; dell and crag,
;
39 lake, hillside,
and pine arcade,
touched with Genius.
Yonder ragged
Hollow and .\re
cliff
Has thousand faces in a thousand hours.
The Showed me
gentle deities
The innumerable tenements The
and of sounds,
the lore of colors
of beauty,
miracle of generative force,
Far-reaching concords of astronomy Felt in the plants
and
Better, the linked
purpose of the whole.
And, chiefest In the glad
The
polite
Would I
am
prize,
home
found
in the punctual birds
found I true liberty
plain-dealing nature gave.
me
impolite
the great
;
mortify me, but in vain
;
for still
a willow of the wilderness.
Loving the wind that bent me.
All
my
hurts
My garden spade can heal. A woodland walk, A quest of river-grapesj a mocking thrush, A
wild- rose, or rock-loving
Salve
my
worst wounds.
columbine.
4° For thus the wood-gods murmured '
Dost love our mamiers ? Canst thou, thy pride
in
Canst thou
my
ear
:
silent lie ?
forgot, like nature pass
Into the winter night's extinguished rnood?
Canst thou shine now, then darkle,
And As,
being latent
when
The
feel thyself
the all-worshipped
river, hill,
no
less?
moon attracts
the eye,
stems, foliage, are obscure;
" Yet envies none, none are unenviable.'
know
I
of
but one subtraction from
the pleasure the reading of his books shall
I
say his conversation
his pains to if
?
— gives
be impersonal or
—
me,
discrete, as
he feared any the least intrusion of him-
self
were an offence offered to
self-respect
the courtesy due to intercourse and authorship
;
thus
depriving
his
page,
his
company, of attractions the great masters
41
knew how
of both text
and
bounds
What
without overstepping the
talk,
of
social
more
is
magnetism?
to insinuate into their
or
than personal
delightful
'Tis the
charm of good
tion, to
fill
measures of
satisfac-
ourselves with the nectar of
select experiences, not without
tertinctures of egotism so
companion,
fel-
To get and
lowship as of good writing. to give the largest
decorum.
literary
is
some
charming
what we seek
in
in-
in
a
books of
the class of his, as in their authors.
We
associate diffidence properly with learning,
frankness with fellowship, and tain
blushing
reverence to
owe a both.
cer-
For
though our companion be a bashful man,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; and
he
is
the worse
if
wanting
this
42 grace, siast
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; we yet wish
behind
all
him
is
rare this genial
the
gift
humor
pecially here in cold for the
most
good
of
New
books.
in his
frankness of the blood, and sing
be an enthu-
and capable of
reserves,
abandonment sometimes
know how
to
how
is,
I
this
surpas-
spirits,
es-
England, where,
part,
" Our virtues grow
Beneath our humors, and
And
yet,
at seasons
show."
under our east winds of
serve, there hides
an obscure courtesy
re-
in
the best natures, which neither tempera-
ment nor breeding can manners the most for holding
spoil.
Sometimes
distant are friendly foils
eager dispositions subject to
;;
43 the measure of right behavior.
every
New
commended by
Thy But
Be
me
heart if
is
not
Englander that dares venture
upon the frankness, the
" Caress
'T
plain speaking,
the Greek poet.
not with words, while far away absent,
is
thou love
me
and thy
feelings stray
with a faithful breast,
that pure love with zeal sincere exprest
And
if
thou hate, the bold aversion show
With open face avowed, and known
Fortunate the visitor
who
my
foe."
admitted
is
of a morning for the high discourse, or
permitted to join the poet in his after-
noon walks where,
Walden, the
to
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; hours
as unlike
likely to
any others
experiences.
I
may
in
Cliffs,
or else-
be remembered, his
say, for
calendar of
me
they have
44
made
ideas possible,
by
hospitalities given
to a fellowship so enjoyable.
them
scribe
cloud-lands,
as
ever
new ? none
than
when
first
oftenest
sallies
into
Shall
and
scenes
de-
I
the
into
intimacies
the less novel nor remote
experienced
;
colloquies, in
favored moments, on themes, perchance "
Of fate,
free-will,
foreknowledge absolute
" ;
nor yet " In wand'ring mazes lost,"
as in Milton's
page
;
But pathways plain through
Or thence descending
Interviews, trail
of
starry alcoves high,
to the level plains.
however,
perplexing
bringing
thoughts,
their
costing
45
some
days'
duties,
several
nights'
sleep
oftentimes, to restore one to his place and
poise
for
customary employment
dozen annually being stoutest heads
may
full
as
;
many
half a
as the
well undertake without
detriment. Certainly safer
not to venture without
the sure credentials, unless one will have his
pretensions pricked, his conceits re-
duced
in their
vague dimensions.
"Fools have no means But by
But
to
gifted,
the
meet
their feet."
modest, the
welcome
to
!
ingenuous, the
Nor can any bearing
be more poetic and polite than such,
to youth
his to all
and accomplished women
46 especially.
to say, his
is
I
that,
may
not intrude farther than
beyond any
I
have known,
a faith approaching to superstition
concerning admirable persons; the divinity of friendship
come down from childhood,
and surviving yet expectation
any
sort,
gift to
;
in
memory
not
in
the rumor of excellence of
being
like the arrival of a
mankind, and he the
his recognition
and hope.
for conversation, for clubs,
timation
of
the
He,
we
say?
shall
if
religion
any,
if
to proffer
first
His is
of
new
affection
a lively infellowship.
must have taken
the census of the admirable people of his time,
numbering
friends, perhaps,
cans;
while he
as as
is
many among most
living
his
Ameri-
already recognized as
47 the
whom
to
mind of
representative
especially
his
country,
distinguished
foreigners
commended on
visiting us.
Extraordinary persons
may be
some querulousness about
when we remember
their
are
forgiven
company,
that ordinary people
often complain of theirs.
Impossible for
such to comprehend the scholar's code of civilities,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; disposed
persons to their
as
men
special
are to hold
standard.
all
Yet
much
dedicated to
high
more
the scholar with himself, as
his
strict
is
labors,
so
the
hindrances are the less appreciable,
and he
has,
besides, his
own moods
humor. " Askest
how long thou
shalt stay,
Devastator of the day?"
to
;
48 " Heartily know.
When
half-gods go,
The Gods
arrive."
.Companionableness
We
comes,
meet magically, and pass with sound-
ing manners strokes
of
else
;
fate
we encounter
from
into
vortices
finds
no escape.
repulses,
temperament
;
temperament,
against
We
telling
precipitating
which the
us
nimblest
pity the person
shows himself unequal
who
to such occasions;
the scholar, for example, is
by., nature.
whose
intellect
so exacting, so precise, that he cannot
meet cally
his ;
or the
company otherwise than
criti-
cannot descend through the senses sentiments to that
where intercourse
is
common
possible with
level
men
49 but we caprice
him the more, who, from
pity
or
these only.
worse the case of him
Still
who
can meet
talist
nor
a
men
human way. in
and wit
with
neither as sentimen-
or, rather
idealist,
sentiment
can meet through
confusion,
not at
all
with
Intellect interblends
the
companionable
We
humor.
in
mind,
detain
the
flowing tide at the cost of lapsing out
of
perception
limbo of
they
They
cannot,
away, and
into
the
Excellent people wonder
fools.
why
memory,
into
cannot
meet
and
converse.
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; no â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
their wits
have ebbed
them
helpless.
Why, but
left
because of hostile temperaments, ent states
of animation
magnetism
finds
?
differ-
The personal
no conductor, when one
50 is
and the other individual no
individual,
IiTdividuals
less.
and
only
as
one's
personality
overpowering
ciently
meet;
persons
repel;
suffi-
is
the
dissolve
to
other's- individualism, can the parties flow
together and become one.
no power of
uals have
are
two,
oned
are
touch
;
by
themselves
egotism,
aloof;
like
separate
they
animals,
stand
when
even
of
they
are solitary in any company, hav-
personal mind
hended by the
Pris-
reason
ing no company in themselves. free
They
this sort.
not one, perhaps many.
within
their
But individ-
all
by the
;
most gifted
spell-binder, the
meets
;
all,
least
magnetizes liberator
of
But the is
appre-
cultivated, all
;
is
the
every one.
51
We
speak
of
sympathies,
antipathies,
fascinations, fates, for this reason.
Here we have the key
to Hterary
com-
position, to eloquence, to fellowship.
Let
moment,
us apply
it,
genius.
We
forbear
of
genesis,
precincts
for the
to
entering
and
Emerson's into
the
complexions,
wherein sleep the secrets of character and manners.
Eloquent
trope
in
and
utter-
ance when his vaulting intelligence frees itself
for the
instant, yet
eye, his volleyed period
;
see his loaded
jets of wit, sallies
of sense, breaks, inconsequences,
all
be-
traying the pent personality from which his
rare
accomplishments
liberated his
gifts,
servedly to the
have not yet
nor given him unre-
Muse and mankind.
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
;
;
52
Take
his
own account "
From
was born,
I
This be thy portion, child
'
:
Less than a
From my
lily's,
down
:
this chalice,
thou shalt daily draw
great art eries,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; not
less
nor more.'
cunning chemist, Time,
All substances the
Melts
When
the seas of strength Fate filled a chalice,
all
Saying
of the matter.
into the liquor of
my
life,
Friends, foes, joys, fortunes, beauty and disgust
And
am
whether I
angry or content,
Indebted or insulted, loved or hurt, All he distils into sidereal wine,
And
brims
Of all he
my
little
sheds,
How much
cup, heedless, alas
how
little it will
hold,
runs over on the desert sands.
If a
new Muse draw me with splendid
And
I uplift myself into its heaven,
The needs
And
all
!
of the
first
sight absorb
ray,
my blood
the following hours of the day
Drag a ridiculous age. To-day, when friends approach, and every hour
;
53 Brings book, or star-bright scroll of Genius,
The
And Nor So
cup
little
all
will
hold not a bead more,
the costly liquor runs to waste
gives the jealous lord one
to
diamond drop
be husbanded for poorer days.
Why
need
I
Why
need
I galleries,
volumes,
if
one word
when
After the master's sketch,
suffice ?
a pupil's draught,
fills
and
o'erfiUs
My apprehension ? Why seek Italy, Who cannot circumnavigate the sea Of thoughts and
The
light,
man also.
still
nearest matter for a thousand days
Plutarch
wont
things at home, but
to
tells
"
us that of old they were
men ^ara, which
call
?
adjourn
imports
not only for the vehement desire
has to know, but to communicate
And
the
Platonists
the gods, being above
thing whereof
man
fancied that
men, had some-
did not partake, pure
54 intellect
and knowledge, and thus kept
on
way
their
quietly.
The
beasts, being
man
below men, had something whereof
had
less,
quietly
sense and growth, so they lived
in
something
their in
While man had
way.
him whereof neither gods
nor beasts had any trace, which gave him all
the trouble, and
in the world,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; and
made that
all
the confusion
was egotism and
opinion.
A show
finer
that
threefold
discrimination
Genius
of
ranges
gifts
might
through
this
dominion, partaking in turn of
each essence and degree.
Was lect,
so
our poet planted so firmly
rooted
in
fast in intel-
the
mind,
so
dazzled with light, yet so cleft withal by
55 duplicity
of
that, thus
gifts,
the mid-world
traverse
of
he was ever
contrariety,
glancing forth
as reflected through
life
his dividing prism,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; resident
the
he
tracts
persistent
Muse
housed
the
forth
in
in
to
and
contrast
from his coverts at
in
forced
never long
surveyed,
nevertheless
yet ?
their
And
so,
Mind, and thence sallying
quest of his game, whether of
persons or things, he was the Mercury, the merchantman of ideas to his century.
Nor was he
left
alone in
life
and thinking.
Beside him stood his townsman,* whose sylvan
intelligence,
fast
rooted in
and Nature, was yet armed with a a subtlety and strength,
ity, *
Thoreau.
that
sense .sagac-
pene-
56 trated
while
divining
the
the creatures and things he
essences studied,
of
and
of which he seemed both Atlas and Head. Forcible terialism
protestants
of
times,
these
tiated
beyond
their
the
ma-
own, as of ..preceding
masterly all
against
Idealists" substan-
question their right to
the empires they swayed,
of an original genius.
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; the
rich estates
Emerson's Summer House.
'J'he
Si'mmek
Sci-totjL
OF Philos<jfh\', Conxoku, Mas:
—
A MONODY.
ION: By
BRONSON ALCOTT.
A.
Read before the Concoko School of
Philosophy, July 22, 18S2.
I.
Why,
oh, ye willows, and ye pastures bare,
Why will ye Wrap
And
in chill
Tell me, ah,
me
tell
me !
my vanished
Say, have ye seen
Ye who
his
Heard ye
late delay.
weeds the sere and sullen day,
cheerless greet
Whither
bloom so
thus your
wandering
in despair?
— ye of old could Ion now doth
him
his voice forth
Where midst
way.
full
well ?
from the thicket swell.
the drooping ferns he loved to stray?
Caught ye no glimpses of Tell rae, oh,
fare.
lately pass this
wonted haunts did know
tell,
tell
my
truant there ?
me, whither he hath flown
Beloved Ion flown, and Whilst I through
left
wood and
—
ye sad and lone, field his loss
bemoan.
—
;
:
6o II.
Early through field and
Young Ion
How
wood each
Spring
leading o'er the reedy pass
fleet his footsteps
and how sure
His converse deep and weighty
;
we sped,
;
his tread
— where,
alas
!
!
Like force of thought with subtlest beauty wed ?
The bee and bird and
flower, the pile of grass,
The
lore of stars, the azure sky o'erhead,
The
eye's
warm glance,
All mirrored were
the Fates of love
and dread,-
in his prismatic glass
For endless Being's myriad-minded race
Had
in his thought their registry
and place,
Bright with intelligence, or drugged with sleep,
Hid
in
dark cave,
aloft
on mountain
steep,
In seas immersed, ensouled in starry keep.
III.
Now Echo Where we Or
at the
On
its
answers lone from
and brake,
cliff
in springtime sauntering loved to
mossy bank beyond the
go,—
lake,
green plushes oft ourselves did throw
There from the sparkling wave our
thirst to slake,
—
;;
—
6i Dipped
in the spring that
Our hands Next
for cups,
bubbled up below,
and did
witli glee partake.
way we make.
to the Hermit's cell our
Where
sprightly talk doth hold the
Deserted now
:
ah, Hylas, too,
Hylas, dear Ion's friend and mine,
Alone am Vanished
Why am
left
my I
by unrelenting loved ones
spared
?
why
all,
—
late
!
I all alone,
fate,
—
left
morning
gone
is
the good, the great,
disconsolate
?
IV.
Slow winds our Indian stream through meadows green,
By bending Smooth 'Twas
willows, tangled fen and brake,
field
in far
and farmstead doth woodpaths Ion,
But oftenest found
at
too,
Its
his skiff
was seen.
Walden's emerald
(The murmuring pines inverted There in
flow forsake
its
in
its
lake,
sheen
;)
he rippling rhymes did make.
answering shores echoing the verse between
Full-voiced the
:
meaning of the wizard song.
Far wood and wave and shore, with kindred Strophe, antistrophe, in turn prolong
:
—
will,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; ;
;
;
62
Now wave
and shore and wood are mute and
chill,
Ion, melodious bard, hath dropt his quill.
His harp
is silent,
and
his voice
is still.
V.
Blameless was Ion, beautiful to see,
With native
He
genius, with rich gifts
might of
his
endowed
descent be nobly proud,
Yet meekly tempered was, spake modestly,
Nor sought
the plaudits of the noisy crowd,
When Duty His
He Nor But
The
life
called
him
flowed calmly
in the thick to be.
clear,
not hoarse nor loud
wearied not of immortality, like
Tithonus begged a time-spun shroud
life-long
drank
at fountains of
seer unsated of eternal youth.
'T is not for Ion's sake these tears
'Tis
pure truth,
for the
Age he
Ion immortal
is,
I shed,
nursed, his genius fed,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; he
is
not dead. VI.
Did e'en the Ionian bard, Mseonides, Blind minstrel wandering out of Asia's night,
;
;
63
The
Iliad of Troy's loves
and
In strains forever tuneful to
His raptured
listeners the
Or dropt learned Plato
More
star-bright
rivalries,
recite,
more
delight ?
'neath his olive trees,
wisdom
in the world's full sight.
Well garnered in familiar colloquies,
Than did our
harvester in fields of light ?
Nor spoke more charmingly young Charmides,
Than our glad rhapsodist
in his far flight
Across the continents, both
His
tale to studious
new and
old
thousands thus he told
In summer's solstice and midwinter's cold.
VII. Shall from the shades another
Orpheus
rise
Sweeping with venturous hand the vocal
string.
Kindle glad raptures, visions of surprise,
And wake
to ecstacy each slumberous thing
Flash
and thought anew
life
in
wondering eyes.
As when our seer transcendent, sweet, and wise, World-wide
his native
Flushed with
fair
melodies did sing,
hopes and ancient memories?
;; ; :;
64 Ah, no
!
None hath
To
matchless
his
lyi'e
must
silent lie,
the vanished minstrel's wondrous
touch that instrument with
art
and
will
With him winged Poesy doth droop and While our dull age, Follows his
flight to
left
skill
die,
voiceless, with sad eye
groves of song on high.
VIII.
Come, As
if
then,
Mnemosyne and on me !
for Ion's harp
wait,
thou gav'st thine own
Recall the memories of man's ancient state.
Ere
to this
low orb had
his
form dropt down,
Clothed in the cerements of his chosen
fate
Oblivious here of heavenly glories flown,
Lapsed from the high, the
Unknowing
Lo
!
the blest estate.
and by himself unknown
Ion, unfallen from his lordly prime,
Paused
To
these,
fair,
in his passing flight, and, giving ear
heedless sojourners in weary time.
Sang
his full
song of hope and
Aroused them from
And
toward the
lofty
cheer
dull sleep, from grisly fear,
stars their faces
did uprear.
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
65 IX.
Why
didst thou haste away, ere yet the green
Enameled meadow, the sequestered
The blossoming
dell,
orchard, leafy grove were seen
In the sweet season thou hadst sung so well
Why
shadow
cast this
No more
its rustic
o'er the vernal scene ?
charms of thee
may
tell
And
so content us with their simple mien.
Was
it
(Ere
that
memory's unrelinquished
man had
?
spell
stumbled here amid the tombs,)
Revived for thee that Spring's perennial blooms.
Those cloud-capped alcoves where we once did dwell Translated wast thou in some rapturous dream ?
Our once
familiar faces strange
Whilst from thine
own
must seem,
celestial smiles
did stream
X. I tread the
marble leading to
his door,
(Allowed the freedom of a chosen friend
He greets me The Fates
j
not as was his wont before.
within frown
Could ye not once your
on me
as of yore,
ofiSces
suspend?
)
!
;
;
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
66
Had
Atropos her severing shears forbore
Or Clotho stooped
!
the sundered thread to
mend
!
Yet why dear Ion's destiny deplore ?
What more had
envious
Time
himself to give
?
His fame had reached the ocean's farthest shore,
'
Why
prisoned here should Ion longer live?
The
questioning Sphinx declared him void of blame
For wiser answer none could ever frame
Beyond
all
;
time survives his mighty name.
XI.
Now pillowed
near loved Hylas' lovyly bed,
Beneath our aged oaks and sighing
pines,
Pale Ion rests awhile his laureled head
(How
sweet his slumber as he there reclines
Why weep
for
Ion here ?
Nought of him Personal
The hues
He that
is
not dead,
mound
confines
ethereal of the morning red
This clod embraces never, nor enshrines.
Away
the mourning multitude hath sped.
And round us
closes fast the gathering night,
As from the drowsy
dell the
sun declines,
!)
;
I\Ir.
^.^.^^
,
..
Study.
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
^1 Ion hath vanished from our clouded
sight,
But on the morrow, with the budding May, A-field goes Ion, at
first
Across the pastures
on
flush of day,
his
dewy way.
THE POET'S COUNTERSIGN.
;
THE An Ode read
POET'S COUNTERSIGN. by F. B. Sanborn, at thh opening of the Concord School, July 17, 1882,
" I grant, sweet soul, thy lovely argument
Deserves the
travail
of a worthier pen
Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent,
He
robs thee
He
lends thee virtue,
From
and pays
thy behavior
And found
No
of,
it
;
it
thee again
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; and he
;
stole that
word
beauty doth he give,
on thy cheek ; he can
afford
praise to thee but what in thee doth live."
Across these meadows, o'er the
hills,
Beside our sleeping waters, hurrying
rills.
Through many a woodland dark, and many a bright arcade,
—
;
72
Where
An
out and in the shifting sunbeams braid
Indian mat of checquered light and shade,
The
sister
seasons in their maze,
we wakened here
Since
last
From
hot siesta the
Have
led the fourfold dance along our quiet ways,—
Autumn
still
drowsy year,
apparelled sadly gay.
Winter's white furs and shortened day. Spring's loitering footstep, quickened at the
And As
half the affluent
summer went and came,
uncounted years the same
for
Ah me
!
last,
—
another unreturning spring hath passed.
II.
"
When
"
The
The
the
young
die," the Grecian
springtime from the year hath vanished
gray-haired poet, in unfailing youth,
by the shrine of Truth,
Sits
Her
oracles to spell,
And
their
Or
mourner
else
deep meaning
tell
he chants a bird-like note
said,
" ;
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
From
;
;
;
;
;
that thick-bearded throat
Which warbled
smooth-cheeked
forth the songs of
Beside Youth's sunny fountain
all
May
the day
Sweetly the echoes ring
As At
last
in the flush of spring
the poet dies,
The sunny The
fountain dries,
oracles are
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
dumb, no more the wood-birds
sing.
III.
Homer Of
forsakes the billowy
round
sailors circling o'er the island-sea
Pindar, from
Theban
fountains
Builded in love and woe by
Must
pass beneath the ground
Stout
^schylus
At Marathon,
that slew the deep-haired
at Salamis,
Athens from Persian
Then sung Must
and the mound
doomed Antigone,
Mede
and freed
thrall,
the battle call,
yield to that
one foe he could not quell
—
;
;
74 In Gela's flowery plain he slumbers well.* Sicilian roses
Above
And
his nameless
tomb
there the nightingale doth
For Bion,
By
bloom
too,
who sung
mourn
in vain
the Dorian strain
Arethusa's tide,
His brother swains might
The
flute in
Dorian mood,
bird of love in thickets of the
wood
Sing for a thousand years his grave beside
Yet Bion
still
was mute
—
— the Dorian
— had died.
lay
IV.
The
Attic poet at approach of age
Laid by his garland, took the
staff
and
For singing robes the mantle of the
And
scrip,
sage,
taught gray wisdom with the same grave
lip
That once had carolled gay
Where
silver flutes
breathed
soft
and
festal
harps did
play; * Athenian .^schylus Euphorion's son.
Buried in Gela's
field
these
His deeds are registered
Known
words
declare:
Marathon, to the deep-haired Mede who meet him there. at
— Greek
A nthology.
;
75 Young
Plato sang of love
and beauty's charm,
While he that from Stagira came to hear In lyric measures bade his princely pupil arm.
And
strike the Persian tyrant
High thought doth
mute with
fear.
well accord with melody,
Brave deed with Poesy,
And song
is
prelude
fair to
sweet Philosophy.
But wiser English Shakspeare's noble choice. Poet and sage
at once,
Taught beyond
A
Plato's ken, yet charming every ear
kindred choice was
Now Avon
whose varied voice
his,
whose
spirit
hovers here.
glides through Severn to the sea.
And murmurs
that her Shakspeare sings
Thames.bears the
freight of
many
a tribute shore,
But on those banks her poet bold and
That stooped
in blindness at his
no more
free.
humble door,
Yet never bowed to priest or prince the knee,
Wanders no more by those sad
sisters led
;
;-
—
76 Herbert and Spenser dead
Have
left their
Stiffly
endeavors to supplant the dream
Of seer and
names alone
poet, with
to
him whose scheme
mechanic
Learned from the chemist's
rule
from the surgeon's
closet,
tool.
With us Philosophy
still
spreads her wing,
—
And
soars to seek Heaven's
Nor
creeps through charnels, prying with the glass
That makes the little
big,
King
—while gods unseen may
pass.
VI.
Along the marge of these slow-gliding streams,
Our winding Concord and
Of
A
the wider flow
Charles by Cambridge, walks and dreams
throng of poets,
For each bright
The keenest
—
tearfully they
river misses
from
go its
;
band
eye, the truest heart, the surest minstrel
hand,
They
sleep each
ing land.
on
his
wooded
hill
above the sorrow-
;
;
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
11 Duly each mound with garlands we adorn
or violet,
lily,
laurel,
and the flowering
thorn,
Sadly above them wave
The
wailing pine-trees of their native strand
;
Sadly the distant billows smite the shore. Plash in the sunlight, or at midnight roar All sounds of melody,
On
all
things sweet
and
fair,
earth, in sea or air.
Droop and grow
by the poet's grave.
silent
VII.
Yet wherefore weep ?
A
living hearse,
And
Who
Old age
slow creeping
He
utter silence.
is
but a tomb,
from age
is
meets the stroke of Death and
Victor o'er every Is swift defeat
;
woe ;
is
rises
thence
his sure defence
Death
shall restore
the poet's friend
for
freed
by that he doth succeed.
Death
Unlock
gloom
to the
him
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
I
speak
it
sooth
to his golden youth.
him the portal of renown,
And on Fame's
tablet write his verses
down,
— ;
78 For every age
in endless time to read.
With us Death's quarrel Joy from our eyes
When
is
— from
he takes away
:
this
dark world the day -
other skies he opens to the poet's ray.
VIII.
Lonely these meadows green, Silent these warbling
To
us,
by
whom
woodlands must appear
our poet-sage was seen
Wandering among
their beauties, year
by
year,
Listening with delicate ear
To
each
Or
rose from earth
fine
note that
fell
on high
from tree or sky. :
Glancing that falcon eye,
In kindly radiance as of some young
star,
the shows of Nature near and
far.
Or on the tame procession plodding
by,
At
all
Of daily
toil
and
care,
— and
all life's
warm beams
pageantry
of wit and love.
Then
darting forth
Wide
as the sun's great orbit, aiid as high above
These paths wherein our lowly tasks we ply.
; ;
;
79 IX.
His was the task and
Our
He
eyes,
our hearts, bent earthward, to
found us chained
Our
shadows,
from the blaze
light,
flitting
uplift
in Plato's fabled cave,
faces long averted
Of Heaven's broad
On
his the lordly gift
and
idly turned to gaze
ceaseless as the
That dashes ever idly on some
isle
wave
enchanted
By shadows haunted
We
sat,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; amused
in youth, in
In vacant age forlorn,
The same These
He
dull chain
captives,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D;
still
softly to
" Arise
We
souls
like that
imprisoned Peter
up quickly
wist not
clasped around our shroud
bound and bowed.
from their dungeon
Who
manhood daunted.
then shpped within the grave,
!
said,
gird thyself and flee
whose the
were
angel led
thrilling voice,
" !
we knew our
free.
X.
Ah
!
blest those years of youthful hope,
When
every breeze was Zephyr, every morning
May
i
;
;
;
8o Then
as
Of life's
we bravely climbed the
At every
The
we
steep mount, stair,
gained a wider scope
and could with joy survey
track beneath us, and the
Both
slope
lay in light
upward way j
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; round both the breath of love
Fragrant and warm from Heaveti's, own tropic blew Beside us what glad comrades smiled and strove
Beyond us what dim With
visions rose tp
thee, deaf Master
We jouirneyed- happy Thine the
Thy
lofty
:
!
view
!
through thatmorning land
thine the guiding hand,
ifaf-lookiiig eye,
the dauntless smile
song of hope did the long march beguile.
XI.
Now The
scattered wide
is
and
lost to loving sight
gallant train
That heard thy 'T
May no
strain
longer,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; shadows of the night
Beset the downward pathway
And
!
;
thou art gone,
with thee vanished that perpetual
Of which thou wert
the harbinger
and
dawn seer.
Bridge at Concord.
8i Yet courage
Each
!
comrades,
â&#x20AC;&#x201D; though no more we hear
other's voices, lost within
tliis
cloud
That time and chance about our way have Still
his brave
As 'mid bold
Be
music haunts the hearkening cliffs
and dewy passes of the
that our countersign
His magic song, though Best shall
we
cast,
!
for chanting far apart
we
ear,
Past.
loud
go.
thus discern both friend
and
foe.
j
Recent Publicatiom
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I.
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Miss Frances Merley: A Novel. By John Elliot Cueran. 430 pages. important work of an author familiar to American readers by
his
remarkable sketches to Scridftet^s and other magazines. II-
New England Farm House;
Autobiography of a
A Romance of the Cape Cod Lands. By N. H. Chamberlain. 380 pagei. A novel of singular power a?id beauty, great originality and rugged force. Born and bred on Cape Cod, the author, at the winter firesides of country people, very conservative of ancient EngHsh customs now gone, heard curious talk of kings, Puritan ministers, the war and precedent struggle of our Revolution, and touched a race of men and women now passed away. He also heard, chiefly from ancient women, the traditions of ghosts, witches and Indians, as they are preserved, and to a degree believed, by honest Christian folk, in the very teeth of modem progress. These thiags are embodied in this book.
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A New Book by W. H. H. Murray. DAYLIGHT LAND. The experiences, incidents, and adventures, humorous and otherwise, which befell Judge John Doe, Tourist, of San Francisco Mr. Cephas Pepperell, Capitalistj of Boston Colonel GofEe, the Man from New Hampshire, and divers others, in their Parlor-Car Excursion over Prairie and Mountain ; as recorded and set forth by W. H. H. Murray. Superbly illustrated with 150 cuts in various colors by the best artists. ;
— Introduction — The Meeting — A Breakfast — A Very Hopeful — The Man in the Velveteen Jacket — The Capitalist — Camp at Rush Lake — Big Game — A Strange Midnight Ride — Banff — Sunday among the Mountains — Nameless Mountains -- The Great Glacier — The Hermit of Frazer Canon — Fish and Fishing in British Columbia — Vancouver City — Parting at Victoria. Contents:
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Historical
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HANDBOOK OF PSYCHOLOGY. LL
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3d editiott,
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tliat
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ADOPTED FOR USE IN COLLEGES IN SCOTLAND, ENGLAND, CANADA, AND THE UNITED STATES. good fortune in bringing to light the " Maimojt Memoirs'' with the iiicreasing popularity of his ^'Handbook of Psychology" has attracted the attention of the intellectual world, giving him a position with the leaders of thought of the present age. His writings are at once Prof, MTurray's
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SOCIAL LIFE AND LITERATURE FIFTY YEARS AGO. i6mo, cloth, white paper labels,
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LEGENDS OF THE RHINE. Translated by Fr, Arnold.
contributions to literature.
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Finely Illustrated.
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SELECTION
A
FROM
THE POEMS
OF
Translated, with Critical Notes and a Bibliography.
author of "Thoughts."
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PUSHKIN.
By Ivan Panin,
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published translation by the brilliant young Russian, Ivan Panin, whose lectures in Boston on the literature of Russia, during the autumn of Ifcst year, attracted crowded houses. first
AND PATHOS, from the prose
WIT, WISDOM,
with a few pieces from the " Book of Songs." J.
Second
Snodgrass.
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of
Hhinrich Heine,
Selected and translated by
thoroughly revised.
Cr.
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