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diff --git a/old/2944.txt b/old/2944.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac604a6 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/2944.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7113 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Essays, First Series, by Ralph Waldo Emerson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Essays, First Series + +Author: Ralph Waldo Emerson + +Posting Date: December 1, 2008 [EBook #2944] +Release Date: December, 2001 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ESSAYS, FIRST SERIES *** + + + + +Produced by Tony Adam + + + + + +ESSAYS, FIRST SERIES + +By Ralph Waldo Emerson + + + + HISTORY. + + There is no great and no small + To the Soul that maketh all: + And where it cometh, all things are + And it cometh everywhere. + + I am owner of the sphere, + Of the seven stars and the solar year, + Of Caesar's hand, and Plato's brain, + Of Lord Christ's heart, and Shakspeare's strain. + + + + +I. HISTORY. + +THERE is one mind common to all individual men. Every man is an inlet to +the same and to all of the same. He that is once admitted to the right +of reason is made a freeman of the whole estate. What Plato has thought, +he may think; what a saint has felt, he may feel; what at any time has +befallen any man, he can understand. Who hath access to this universal +mind is a party to all that is or can be done, for this is the only and +sovereign agent. + +Of the works of this mind history is the record. Its genius is +illustrated by the entire series of days. Man is explicable by nothing +less than all his history. Without hurry, without rest, the human spirit +goes forth from the beginning to embody every faculty, every thought, +every emotion, which belongs to it, in appropriate events. But the +thought is always prior to the fact; all the facts of history preexist +in the mind as laws. Each law in turn is made by circumstances +predominant, and the limits of nature give power to but one at a time. +A man is the whole encyclopaedia of facts. The creation of a thousand +forests is in one acorn, and Egypt, Greece, Rome, Gaul, Britain, +America, lie folded already in the first man. Epoch after epoch, camp, +kingdom, empire, republic, democracy, are merely the application of his +manifold spirit to the manifold world. + +This human mind wrote history, and this must read it. The Sphinx must +solve her own riddle. If the whole of history is in one man, it is all +to be explained from individual experience. There is a relation between +the hours of our life and the centuries of time. As the air I breathe is +drawn from the great repositories of nature, as the light on my book is +yielded by a star a hundred millions of miles distant, as the poise +of my body depends on the equilibrium of centrifugal and centripetal +forces, so the hours should be instructed by the ages and the ages +explained by the hours. Of the universal mind each individual man is one +more incarnation. All its properties consist in him. Each new fact in +his private experience flashes a light on what great bodies of men +have done, and the crises of his life refer to national crises. Every +revolution was first a thought in one man's mind, and when the same +thought occurs to another man, it is the key to that era. Every reform +was once a private opinion, and when it shall be a private opinion again +it will solve the problem of the age. The fact narrated must correspond +to something in me to be credible or intelligible. We, as we read, must +become Greeks, Romans, Turks, priest and king, martyr and executioner; +must fasten these images to some reality in our secret experience, or we +shall learn nothing rightly. What befell Asdrubal or Caesar Borgia is as +much an illustration of the mind's powers and depravations as what has +befallen us. Each new law and political movement has meaning for you. +Stand before each of its tablets and say, 'Under this mask did my +Proteus nature hide itself.' This remedies the defect of our too great +nearness to ourselves. This throws our actions into perspective; and +as crabs, goats, scorpions, the balance and the waterpot lose their +meanness when hung as signs in the zodiac, so I can see my own vices +without heat in the distant persons of Solomon, Alcibiades, and +Catiline. + +It is the universal nature which gives worth to particular men and +things. Human life, as containing this, is mysterious and inviolable, +and we hedge it round with penalties and laws. All laws derive hence +their ultimate reason; all express more or less distinctly some command +of this supreme, illimitable essence. Property also holds of the soul, +covers great spiritual facts, and instinctively we at first hold to +it with swords and laws and wide and complex combinations. The obscure +consciousness of this fact is the light of all our day, the claim of +claims; the plea for education, for justice, for charity; the foundation +of friendship and love and of the heroism and grandeur which belong to +acts of self-reliance. It is remarkable that involuntarily we always +read as superior beings. Universal history, the poets, the romancers, +do not in their stateliest pictures,--in the sacerdotal, the imperial +palaces, in the triumphs of will or of genius,--anywhere lose our ear, +anywhere make us feel that we intrude, that this is for better men; but +rather is it true that in their grandest strokes we feel most at home. +All that Shakspeare says of the king, yonder slip of a boy that reads +in the corner feels to be true of himself. We sympathize in the great +moments of history, in the great discoveries, the great resistances, the +great prosperities of men;--because there law was enacted, the sea was +searched, the land was found, or the blow was struck, for us, as we +ourselves in that place would have done or applauded. + +We have the same interest in condition and character. We honor the rich +because they have externally the freedom, power, and grace which we feel +to be proper to man, proper to us. So all that is said of the wise man +by Stoic or Oriental or modern essayist, describes to each reader his +own idea, describes his unattained but attainable self. All literature +writes the character of the wise man. Books, monuments, pictures, +conversation, are portraits in which he finds the lineaments he is +forming. The silent and the eloquent praise him and accost him, and +he is stimulated wherever he moves, as by personal allusions. A true +aspirant therefore never needs look for allusions personal and laudatory +in discourse. He hears the commendation, not of himself, but, more +sweet, of that character he seeks, in every word that is said concerning +character, yea further in every fact and circumstance,--in the running +river and the rustling corn. Praise is looked, homage tendered, love +flows, from mute nature, from the mountains and the lights of the +firmament. + +These hints, dropped as it were from sleep and night, let us use in +broad day. The student is to read history actively and not passively; to +esteem his own life the text, and books the commentary. Thus compelled, +the Muse of history will utter oracles, as never to those who do not +respect themselves. I have no expectation that any man will read history +aright who thinks that what was done in a remote age, by men whose names +have resounded far, has any deeper sense than what he is doing to-day. + +The world exists for the education of each man. There is no age or state +of society or mode of action in history to which there is not somewhat +corresponding in his life. Every thing tends in a wonderful manner to +abbreviate itself and yield its own virtue to him. He should see that he +can live all history in his own person. He must sit solidly at home, and +not suffer himself to be bullied by kings or empires, but know that he +is greater than all the geography and all the government of the world; +he must transfer the point of view from which history is commonly read, +from Rome and Athens and London, to himself, and not deny his conviction +that he is the court, and if England or Egypt have any thing to say to +him he will try the case; if not, let them for ever be silent. He must +attain and maintain that lofty sight where facts yield their secret +sense, and poetry and annals are alike. The instinct of the mind, the +purpose of nature, betrays itself in the use we make of the signal +narrations of history. Time dissipates to shining ether the solid +angularity of facts. No anchor, no cable, no fences avail to keep a fact +a fact. Babylon, Troy, Tyre, Palestine, and even early Rome are passing +already into fiction. The Garden of Eden, the sun standing still in +Gibeon, is poetry thenceforward to all nations. Who cares what the +fact was, when we have made a constellation of it to hang in heaven an +immortal sign? London and Paris and New York must go the same way. "What +is history," said Napoleon, "but a fable agreed upon?" This life of ours +is stuck round with Egypt, Greece, Gaul, England, War, Colonization, +Church, Court and Commerce, as with so many flowers and wild ornaments +grave and gay. I will not make more account of them. I believe in +Eternity. I can find Greece, Asia, Italy, Spain and the Islands,--the +genius and creative principle of each and of all eras, in my own mind. + +We are always coming up with the emphatic facts of history in our +private experience and verifying them here. All history becomes +subjective; in other words there is properly no history, only biography. +Every mind must know the whole lesson for itself,--must go over the +whole ground. What it does not see, what it does not live, it will not +know. What the former age has epitomized into a formula or rule for +manipular convenience, it will lose all the good of verifying for +itself, by means of the wall of that rule. Somewhere, sometime, it will +demand and find compensation for that loss, by doing the work itself. +Ferguson discovered many things in astronomy which had long been known. +The better for him. + +History must be this or it is nothing. Every law which the state enacts +indicates a fact in human nature; that is all. We must in ourselves see +the necessary reason of every fact,--see how it could and must be. So +stand before every public and private work; before an oration of Burke, +before a victory of Napoleon, before a martyrdom of Sir Thomas More, of +Sidney, of Marmaduke Robinson; before a French Reign of Terror, and +a Salem hanging of witches; before a fanatic Revival and the Animal +Magnetism in Paris, or in Providence. We assume that we under like +influence should be alike affected, and should achieve the like; and we +aim to master intellectually the steps and reach the same height or the +same degradation that our fellow, our proxy has done. + +All inquiry into antiquity, all curiosity respecting the Pyramids, the +excavated cities, Stonehenge, the Ohio Circles, Mexico, Memphis,--is the +desire to do away this wild, savage, and preposterous There or Then, and +introduce in its place the Here and the Now. Belzoni digs and measures +in the mummy-pits and pyramids of Thebes, until he can see the end +of the difference between the monstrous work and himself. When he has +satisfied himself, in general and in detail, that it was made by such a +person as he, so armed and so motived, and to ends to which he himself +should also have worked, the problem is solved; his thought lives along +the whole line of temples and sphinxes and catacombs, passes through +them all with satisfaction, and they live again to the mind, or are now. + +A Gothic cathedral affirms that it was done by us and not done by +us. Surely it was by man, but we find it not in our man. But we apply +ourselves to the history of its production. We put ourselves into the +place and state of the builder. We remember the forest-dwellers, the +first temples, the adherence to the first type, and the decoration of it +as the wealth of the nation increased; the value which is given to wood +by carving led to the carving over the whole mountain of stone of a +cathedral. When we have gone through this process, and added thereto the +Catholic Church, its cross, its music, its processions, its Saints' +days and image-worship, we have as it were been the man that made the +minster; we have seen how it could and must be. We have the sufficient +reason. + +The difference between men is in their principle of association. +Some men classify objects by color and size and other accidents of +appearance; others by intrinsic likeness, or by the relation of cause +and effect. The progress of the intellect is to the clearer vision +of causes, which neglects surface differences. To the poet, to the +philosopher, to the saint, all things are friendly and sacred, all +events profitable, all days holy, all men divine. For the eye is +fastened on the life, and slights the circumstance. Every chemical +substance, every plant, every animal in its growth, teaches the unity of +cause, the variety of appearance. + +Upborne and surrounded as we are by this all-creating nature, soft and +fluid as a cloud or the air, why should we be such hard pedants, +and magnify a few forms? Why should we make account of time, or of +magnitude, or of figure? The soul knows them not, and genius, obeying +its law, knows how to play with them as a young child plays with +graybeards and in churches. Genius studies the causal thought, and far +back in the womb of things sees the rays parting from one orb, that +diverge, ere they fall, by infinite diameters. Genius watches the monad +through all his masks as he performs the metempsychosis of nature. +Genius detects through the fly, through the caterpillar, through the +grub, through the egg, the constant individual; through countless +individuals the fixed species; through many species the genus; through +all genera the steadfast type; through all the kingdoms of organized +life the eternal unity. Nature is a mutable cloud which is always and +never the same. She casts the same thought into troops of forms, as +a poet makes twenty fables with one moral. Through the bruteness and +toughness of matter, a subtle spirit bends all things to its own will. +The adamant streams into soft but precise form before it, and whilst +I look at it its outline and texture are changed again. Nothing is so +fleeting as form; yet never does it quite deny itself. In man we still +trace the remains or hints of all that we esteem badges of servitude in +the lower races; yet in him they enhance his nobleness and grace; as +Io, in Aeschylus, transformed to a cow, offends the imagination; but how +changed when as Isis in Egypt she meets Osiris-Jove, a beautiful woman +with nothing of the metamorphosis left but the lunar horns as the +splendid ornament of her brows! + +The identity of history is equally intrinsic, the diversity equally +obvious. There is, at the surface, infinite variety of things; at the +centre there is simplicity of cause. How many are the acts of one man +in which we recognize the same character! Observe the sources of our +information in respect to the Greek genius. We have the civil history of +that people, as Herodotus, Thucydides, Xenophon, and Plutarch have given +it; a very sufficient account of what manner of persons they were and +what they did. We have the same national mind expressed for us again in +their literature, in epic and lyric poems, drama, and philosophy; a very +complete form. Then we have it once more in their architecture, a beauty +as of temperance itself, limited to the straight line and the square,--a +builded geometry. Then we have it once again in sculpture, the "tongue +on the balance of expression," a multitude of forms in the utmost +freedom of action and never transgressing the ideal serenity; like +votaries performing some religious dance before the gods, and, though in +convulsive pain or mortal combat, never daring to break the figure and +decorum of their dance. Thus of the genius of one remarkable people we +have a fourfold representation: and to the senses what more unlike than +an ode of Pindar, a marble centaur, the peristyle of the Parthenon, and +the last actions of Phocion? + +Every one must have observed faces and forms which, without any +resembling feature, make a like impression on the beholder. A particular +picture or copy of verses, if it do not awaken the same train of images, +will yet superinduce the same sentiment as some wild mountain walk, +although the resemblance is nowise obvious to the senses, but is +occult and out of the reach of the understanding. Nature is an endless +combination and repetition of a very few laws. She hums the old +well-known air through innumerable variations. + +Nature is full of a sublime family likeness throughout her works, +and delights in startling us with resemblances in the most unexpected +quarters. I have seen the head of an old sachem of the forest which at +once reminded the eye of a bald mountain summit, and the furrows of the +brow suggested the strata of the rock. There are men whose manners have +the same essential splendor as the simple and awful sculpture on the +friezes of the Parthenon and the remains of the earliest Greek art. And +there are compositions of the same strain to be found in the books of +all ages. What is Guido's Rospigliosi Aurora but a morning thought, +as the horses in it are only a morning cloud? If any one will but take +pains to observe the variety of actions to which he is equally inclined +in certain moods of mind, and those to which he is averse, he will see +how deep is the chain of affinity. + +A painter told me that nobody could draw a tree without in some sort +becoming a tree; or draw a child by studying the outlines of its form +merely,--but, by watching for a time his motions and plays, the painter +enters into his nature and can then draw him at will in every +attitude. So Roos "entered into the inmost nature of a sheep." I knew +a draughtsman employed in a public survey who found that he could not +sketch the rocks until their geological structure was first explained to +him. In a certain state of thought is the common origin of very diverse +works. It is the spirit and not the fact that is identical. By a deeper +apprehension, and not primarily by a painful acquisition of many manual +skills, the artist attains the power of awakening other souls to a given +activity. + +It has been said that "common souls pay with what they do, nobler souls +with that which they are." And why? Because a profound nature awakens +in us by its actions and words, by its very looks and manners, the same +power and beauty that a gallery of sculpture or of pictures addresses. + +Civil and natural history, the history of art and of literature, must +be explained from individual history, or must remain words. There +is nothing but is related to us, nothing that does not interest +us,--kingdom, college, tree, horse, or iron shoe,--the roots of all +things are in man. Santa Croce and the Dome of St. Peter's are +lame copies after a divine model. Strasburg Cathedral is a material +counterpart of the soul of Erwin of Steinbach. The true poem is the +poet's mind; the true ship is the ship-builder. In the man, could we lay +him open, we should see the reason for the last flourish and tendril +of his work; as every spine and tint in the sea-shell preexists in the +secreting organs of the fish. The whole of heraldry and of chivalry is +in courtesy. A man of fine manners shall pronounce your name with all +the ornament that titles of nobility could ever add. + +The trivial experience of every day is always verifying some old +prediction to us and converting into things the words and signs which +we had heard and seen without heed. A lady with whom I was riding in the +forest said to me that the woods always seemed to her to wait, as if +the genii who inhabit them suspended their deeds until the wayfarer had +passed onward; a thought which poetry has celebrated in the dance of the +fairies, which breaks off on the approach of human feet. The man who +has seen the rising moon break out of the clouds at midnight, has been +present like an archangel at the creation of light and of the world. I +remember one summer day in the fields my companion pointed out to me +a broad cloud, which might extend a quarter of a mile parallel to +the horizon, quite accurately in the form of a cherub as painted over +churches,--a round block in the centre, which it was easy to animate +with eyes and mouth, supported on either side by wide-stretched +symmetrical wings. What appears once in the atmosphere may appear often, +and it was undoubtedly the archetype of that familiar ornament. I have +seen in the sky a chain of summer lightning which at once showed to me +that the Greeks drew from nature when they painted the thunderbolt in +the hand of Jove. I have seen a snow-drift along the sides of the stone +wall which obviously gave the idea of the common architectural scroll to +abut a tower. + +By surrounding ourselves with the original circumstances we invent anew +the orders and the ornaments of architecture, as we see how each people +merely decorated its primitive abodes. The Doric temple preserves the +semblance of the wooden cabin in which the Dorian dwelt. The Chinese +pagoda is plainly a Tartar tent. The Indian and Egyptian temples still +betray the mounds and subterranean houses of their forefathers. "The +custom of making houses and tombs in the living rock," says Heeren +in his Researches on the Ethiopians, "determined very naturally the +principal character of the Nubian Egyptian architecture to the colossal +form which it assumed. In these caverns, already prepared by nature, the +eye was accustomed to dwell on huge shapes and masses, so that when +art came to the assistance of nature it could not move on a small scale +without degrading itself. What would statues of the usual size, or neat +porches and wings have been, associated with those gigantic halls before +which only Colossi could sit as watchmen or lean on the pillars of the +interior?" + +The Gothic church plainly originated in a rude adaptation of the forest +trees, with all their boughs, to a festal or solemn arcade; as the bands +about the cleft pillars still indicate the green withes that tied them. +No one can walk in a road cut through pine woods, without being struck +with the architectural appearance of the grove, especially in winter, +when the barrenness of all other trees shows the low arch of the Saxons. +In the woods in a winter afternoon one will see as readily the origin of +the stained glass window, with which the Gothic cathedrals are adorned, +in the colors of the western sky seen through the bare and crossing +branches of the forest. Nor can any lover of nature enter the old piles +of Oxford and the English cathedrals, without feeling that the forest +overpowered the mind of the builder, and that his chisel, his saw and +plane still reproduced its ferns, its spikes of flowers, its locust, +elm, oak, pine, fir and spruce. + +The Gothic cathedral is a blossoming in stone subdued by the insatiable +demand of harmony in man. The mountain of granite blooms into an eternal +flower, with the lightness and delicate finish as well as the aerial +proportions and perspective of vegetable beauty. + +In like manner all public facts are to be individualized, all private +facts are to be generalized. Then at once History becomes fluid and +true, and Biography deep and sublime. As the Persian imitated in the +slender shafts and capitals of his architecture the stem and flower of +the lotus and palm, so the Persian court in its magnificent era never +gave over the nomadism of its barbarous tribes, but travelled from +Ecbatana, where the spring was spent, to Susa in summer and to Babylon +for the winter. + +In the early history of Asia and Africa, Nomadism and Agriculture +are the two antagonist facts. The geography of Asia and of Africa +necessitated a nomadic life. But the nomads were the terror of all those +whom the soil or the advantages of a market had induced to build towns. +Agriculture therefore was a religious injunction, because of the perils +of the state from nomadism. And in these late and civil countries of +England and America these propensities still fight out the old +battle, in the nation and in the individual. The nomads of Africa were +constrained to wander, by the attacks of the gad-fly, which drives the +cattle mad, and so compels the tribe to emigrate in the rainy season and +to drive off the cattle to the higher sandy regions. The nomads of Asia +follow the pasturage from month to month. In America and Europe the +nomadism is of trade and curiosity; a progress, certainly, from the +gad-fly of Astaboras to the Anglo and Italo-mania of Boston Bay. Sacred +cities, to which a periodical religious pilgrimage was enjoined, or +stringent laws and customs, tending to invigorate the national bond, +were the check on the old rovers; and the cumulative values of long +residence are the restraints on the itineracy of the present day. The +antagonism of the two tendencies is not less active in individuals, as +the love of adventure or the love of repose happens to predominate. +A man of rude health and flowing spirits has the faculty of rapid +domestication, lives in his wagon and roams through all latitudes as +easily as a Calmuc. At sea, or in the forest, or in the snow, he sleeps +as warm, dines with as good appetite, and associates as happily as +beside his own chimneys. Or perhaps his facility is deeper seated, in +the increased range of his faculties of observation, which yield him +points of interest wherever fresh objects meet his eyes. The pastoral +nations were needy and hungry to desperation; and this intellectual +nomadism, in its excess, bankrupts the mind through the dissipation of +power on a miscellany of objects. The home-keeping wit, on the other +hand, is that continence or content which finds all the elements of +life in its own soil; and which has its own perils of monotony and +deterioration, if not stimulated by foreign infusions. + +Every thing the individual sees without him corresponds to his states +of mind, and every thing is in turn intelligible to him, as his onward +thinking leads him into the truth to which that fact or series belongs. + +The primeval world,--the Fore-World, as the Germans say,--I can dive +to it in myself as well as grope for it with researching fingers in +catacombs, libraries, and the broken reliefs and torsos of ruined +villas. + +What is the foundation of that interest all men feel in Greek history, +letters, art, and poetry, in all its periods from the Heroic or Homeric +age down to the domestic life of the Athenians and Spartans, four or +five centuries later? What but this, that every man passes personally +through a Grecian period. The Grecian state is the era of the bodily +nature, the perfection of the senses,--of the spiritual nature unfolded +in strict unity with the body. In it existed those human forms which +supplied the sculptor with his models of Hercules, Phoebus, and Jove; +not like the forms abounding in the streets of modern cities, wherein +the face is a confused blur of features, but composed of incorrupt, +sharply defined and symmetrical features, whose eye-sockets are so +formed that it would be impossible for such eyes to squint and take +furtive glances on this side and on that, but they must turn the whole +head. The manners of that period are plain and fierce. The reverence +exhibited is for personal qualities; courage, address, self-command, +justice, strength, swiftness, a loud voice, a broad chest. Luxury and +elegance are not known. A sparse population and want make every man his +own valet, cook, butcher and soldier, and the habit of supplying his +own needs educates the body to wonderful performances. Such are the +Agamemnon and Diomed of Homer, and not far different is the picture +Xenophon gives of himself and his compatriots in the Retreat of the Ten +Thousand. "After the army had crossed the river Teleboas in Armenia, +there fell much snow, and the troops lay miserably on the ground covered +with it. But Xenophon arose naked, and taking an axe, began to split +wood; whereupon others rose and did the like." Throughout his army +exists a boundless liberty of speech. They quarrel for plunder, +they wrangle with the generals on each new order, and Xenophon is as +sharp-tongued as any and sharper-tongued than most, and so gives as good +as he gets. Who does not see that this is a gang of great boys, with +such a code of honor and such lax discipline as great boys have? + +The costly charm of the ancient tragedy, and indeed of all the old +literature, is that the persons speak simply,--speak as persons who have +great good sense without knowing it, before yet the reflective habit has +become the predominant habit of the mind. Our admiration of the antique +is not admiration of the old, but of the natural. The Greeks are not +reflective, but perfect in their senses and in their health, with +the finest physical organization in the world. Adults acted with the +simplicity and grace of children. They made vases, tragedies, and +statues, such as healthy senses should,--that is, in good taste. Such +things have continued to be made in all ages, and are now, wherever +a healthy physique exists; but, as a class, from their superior +organization, they have surpassed all. They combine the energy of +manhood with the engaging unconsciousness of childhood. The attraction +of these manners is that they belong to man, and are known to every +man in virtue of his being once a child; besides that there are always +individuals who retain these characteristics. A person of childlike +genius and inborn energy is still a Greek, and revives our love of +the Muse of Hellas. I admire the love of nature in the Philoctetes. In +reading those fine apostrophes to sleep, to the stars, rocks, mountains +and waves, I feel time passing away as an ebbing sea. I feel the +eternity of man, the identity of his thought. The Greek had it seems the +same fellow-beings as I. The sun and moon, water and fire, met his heart +precisely as they meet mine. Then the vaunted distinction between Greek +and English, between Classic and Romantic schools, seems superficial and +pedantic. When a thought of Plato becomes a thought to me,--when a truth +that fired the soul of Pindar fires mine, time is no more. When I feel +that we two meet in a perception, that our two souls are tinged with the +same hue, and do as it were run into one, why should I measure degrees +of latitude, why should I count Egyptian years? + +The student interprets the age of chivalry by his own age of chivalry, +and the days of maritime adventure and circumnavigation by quite +parallel miniature experiences of his own. To the sacred history of the +world he has the same key. When the voice of a prophet out of the deeps +of antiquity merely echoes to him a sentiment of his infancy, a prayer +of his youth, he then pierces to the truth through all the confusion of +tradition and the caricature of institutions. + +Rare, extravagant spirits come by us at intervals, who disclose to us +new facts in nature. I see that men of God have from time to time walked +among men and made their commission felt in the heart and soul of the +commonest hearer. Hence evidently the tripod, the priest, the priestess +inspired by the divine afflatus. + +Jesus astonishes and overpowers sensual people. They cannot unite him to +history, or reconcile him with themselves. As they come to revere their +intuitions and aspire to live holily, their own piety explains every +fact, every word. + +How easily these old worships of Moses, of Zoroaster, of Menu, of +Socrates, domesticate themselves in the mind. I cannot find any +antiquity in them. They are mine as much as theirs. + +I have seen the first monks and anchorets, without crossing seas or +centuries. More than once some individual has appeared to me with +such negligence of labor and such commanding contemplation, a haughty +beneficiary begging in the name of God, as made good to the nineteenth +century Simeon the Stylite, the Thebais, and the first Capuchins. + +The priestcraft of the East and West, of the Magian, Brahmin, Druid, +and Inca, is expounded in the individual's private life. The cramping +influence of a hard formalist on a young child, in repressing his +spirits and courage, paralyzing the understanding, and that without +producing indignation, but only fear and obedience, and even much +sympathy with the tyranny,--is a familiar fact, explained to the child +when he becomes a man, only by seeing that the oppressor of his youth +is himself a child tyrannized over by those names and words and forms of +whose influence he was merely the organ to the youth. The fact teaches +him how Belus was worshipped and how the Pyramids were built, better +than the discovery by Champollion of the names of all the workmen and +the cost of every tile. He finds Assyria and the Mounds of Cholula at +his door, and himself has laid the courses. + +Again, in that protest which each considerate person makes against the +superstition of his times, he repeats step for step the part of old +reformers, and in the search after truth finds, like them, new perils to +virtue. He learns again what moral vigor is needed to supply the girdle +of a superstition. A great licentiousness treads on the heels of a +reformation. How many times in the history of the world has the Luther +of the day had to lament the decay of piety in his own household! +"Doctor," said his wife to Martin Luther, one day, "how is it that +whilst subject to papacy we prayed so often and with such fervor, whilst +now we pray with the utmost coldness and very seldom?" + +The advancing man discovers how deep a property he has in +literature,--in all fable as well as in all history. He finds that the +poet was no odd fellow who described strange and impossible situations, +but that universal man wrote by his pen a confession true for one and +true for all. His own secret biography he finds in lines wonderfully +intelligible to him, dotted down before he was born. One after another +he comes up in his private adventures with every fable of Aesop, of +Homer, of Hafiz, of Ariosto, of Chaucer, of Scott, and verifies them +with his own head and hands. + +The beautiful fables of the Greeks, being proper creations of the +imagination and not of the fancy, are universal verities. What a range +of meanings and what perpetual pertinence has the story of Prometheus! +Beside its primary value as the first chapter of the history of Europe, +(the mythology thinly veiling authentic facts, the invention of the +mechanic arts and the migration of colonies,) it gives the history of +religion, with some closeness to the faith of later ages. Prometheus is +the Jesus of the old mythology. He is the friend of man; stands between +the unjust "justice" of the Eternal Father and the race of mortals, and +readily suffers all things on their account. But where it departs from +the Calvinistic Christianity and exhibits him as the defier of Jove, it +represents a state of mind which readily appears wherever the doctrine +of Theism is taught in a crude, objective form, and which seems the +self-defence of man against this untruth, namely a discontent with the +believed fact that a God exists, and a feeling that the obligation +of reverence is onerous. It would steal if it could the fire of the +Creator, and live apart from him and independent of him. The Prometheus +Vinctus is the romance of skepticism. Not less true to all time are the +details of that stately apologue. Apollo kept the flocks of Admetus, +said the poets. When the gods come among men, they are not known. Jesus +was not; Socrates and Shakspeare were not. Antaeus was suffocated by +the gripe of Hercules, but every time he touched his mother earth his +strength was renewed. Man is the broken giant, and in all his weakness +both his body and his mind are invigorated by habits of conversation +with nature. The power of music, the power of poetry, to unfix and as it +were clap wings to solid nature, interprets the riddle of Orpheus. The +philosophical perception of identity through endless mutations of +form makes him know the Proteus. What else am I who laughed or wept +yesterday, who slept last night like a corpse, and this morning stood +and ran? And what see I on any side but the transmigrations of Proteus? +I can symbolize my thought by using the name of any creature, of any +fact, because every creature is man agent or patient. Tantalus is but +a name for you and me. Tantalus means the impossibility of drinking the +waters of thought which are always gleaming and waving within sight of +the soul. The transmigration of souls is no fable. I would it were; but +men and women are only half human. Every animal of the barn-yard, the +field and the forest, of the earth and of the waters that are under +the earth, has contrived to get a footing and to leave the print of its +features and form in some one or other of these upright, heaven-facing +speakers. Ah! brother, stop the ebb of thy soul,--ebbing downward into +the forms into whose habits thou hast now for many years slid. As near +and proper to us is also that old fable of the Sphinx, who was said +to sit in the road-side and put riddles to every passenger. If the man +could not answer, she swallowed him alive. If he could solve the riddle, +the Sphinx was slain. What is our life but an endless flight of winged +facts or events? In splendid variety these changes come, all putting +questions to the human spirit. Those men who cannot answer by a superior +wisdom these facts or questions of time, serve them. Facts encumber +them, tyrannize over them, and make the men of routine, the men of +sense, in whom a literal obedience to facts has extinguished every spark +of that light by which man is truly man. But if the man is true to his +better instincts or sentiments, and refuses the dominion of facts, as +one that comes of a higher race; remains fast by the soul and sees the +principle, then the facts fall aptly and supple into their places; they +know their master, and the meanest of them glorifies him. + +See in Goethe's Helena the same desire that every word should be a +thing. These figures, he would say, these Chirons, Griffins, Phorkyas, +Helen and Leda, are somewhat, and do exert a specific influence on the +mind. So far then are they eternal entities, as real to-day as in the +first Olympiad. Much revolving them he writes out freely his humor, and +gives them body to his own imagination. And although that poem be as +vague and fantastic as a dream, yet is it much more attractive than the +more regular dramatic pieces of the same author, for the reason that it +operates a wonderful relief to the mind from the routine of customary +images,--awakens the reader's invention and fancy by the wild freedom of +the design, and by the unceasing succession of brisk shocks of surprise. + +The universal nature, too strong for the petty nature of the bard, sits +on his neck and writes through his hand; so that when he seems to vent +a mere caprice and wild romance, the issue is an exact allegory. Hence +Plato said that "poets utter great and wise things which they do not +themselves understand." All the fictions of the Middle Age explain +themselves as a masked or frolic expression of that which in grave +earnest the mind of that period toiled to achieve. Magic and all that +is ascribed to it is a deep presentiment of the powers of science. The +shoes of swiftness, the sword of sharpness, the power of subduing the +elements, of using the secret virtues of minerals, of understanding +the voices of birds, are the obscure efforts of the mind in a right +direction. The preternatural prowess of the hero, the gift of perpetual +youth, and the like, are alike the endeavour of the human spirit "to +bend the shows of things to the desires of the mind." + +In Perceforest and Amadis de Gaul a garland and a rose bloom on the head +of her who is faithful, and fade on the brow of the inconstant. In the +story of the Boy and the Mantle even a mature reader may be surprised +with a glow of virtuous pleasure at the triumph of the gentle Venelas; +and indeed all the postulates of elfin annals,--that the fairies do not +like to be named; that their gifts are capricious and not to be trusted; +that who seeks a treasure must not speak; and the like,--I find true in +Concord, however they might be in Cornwall or Bretagne. + +Is it otherwise in the newest romance? I read the Bride of Lammermoor. +Sir William Ashton is a mask for a vulgar temptation, Ravenswood Castle +a fine name for proud poverty, and the foreign mission of state only a +Bunyan disguise for honest industry. We may all shoot a wild bull that +would toss the good and beautiful, by fighting down the unjust and +sensual. Lucy Ashton is another name for fidelity, which is always +beautiful and always liable to calamity in this world. + + + +But along with the civil and metaphysical history of man, another +history goes daily forward,--that of the external world,--in which he is +not less strictly implicated. He is the compend of time; he is also +the correlative of nature. His power consists in the multitude of his +affinities, in the fact that his life is intertwined with the whole +chain of organic and inorganic being. In old Rome the public roads +beginning at the Forum proceeded north, south, east, west, to the centre +of every province of the empire, making each market-town of Persia, +Spain and Britain pervious to the soldiers of the capital: so out of +the human heart go as it were highways to the heart of every object in +nature, to reduce it under the dominion of man. A man is a bundle of +relations, a knot of roots, whose flower and fruitage is the world. His +faculties refer to natures out of him and predict the world he is to +inhabit, as the fins of the fish foreshow that water exists, or the +wings of an eagle in the egg presuppose air. He cannot live without a +world. Put Napoleon in an island prison, let his faculties find no men +to act on, no Alps to climb, no stake to play for, and he would beat +the air, and appear stupid. Transport him to large countries, dense +population, complex interests and antagonist power, and you shall see +that the man Napoleon, bounded that is by such a profile and outline, is +not the virtual Napoleon. This is but Talbot's shadow;-- + + "His substance is not here. + For what you see is but the smallest part + And least proportion of humanity; + But were the whole frame here, + It is of such a spacious, lofty pitch, + Your roof were not sufficient to contain it." + --Henry VI. + +Columbus needs a planet to shape his course upon. Newton and Laplace +need myriads of age and thick-strewn celestial areas. One may say a +gravitating solar system is already prophesied in the nature of Newton's +mind. Not less does the brain of Davy or of Gay-Lussac, from childhood +exploring the affinities and repulsions of particles, anticipate the +laws of organization. Does not the eye of the human embryo predict the +light? the ear of Handel predict the witchcraft of harmonic sound? Do +not the constructive fingers of Watt, Fulton, Whittemore, Arkwright, +predict the fusible, hard, and temperable texture of metals, the +properties of stone, water, and wood? Do not the lovely attributes +of the maiden child predict the refinements and decorations of civil +society? Here also we are reminded of the action of man on man. A mind +might ponder its thought for ages and not gain so much self-knowledge as +the passion of love shall teach it in a day. Who knows himself before +he has been thrilled with indignation at an outrage, or has heard an +eloquent tongue, or has shared the throb of thousands in a national +exultation or alarm? No man can antedate his experience, or guess what +faculty or feeling a new object shall unlock, any more than he can draw +to-day the face of a person whom he shall see to-morrow for the first +time. + +I will not now go behind the general statement to explore the reason +of this correspondency. Let it suffice that in the light of these two +facts, namely, that the mind is One, and that nature is its correlative, +history is to be read and written. + +Thus in all ways does the soul concentrate and reproduce its treasures +for each pupil. He too shall pass through the whole cycle of experience. +He shall collect into a focus the rays of nature. History no longer +shall be a dull book. It shall walk incarnate in every just and wise +man. You shall not tell me by languages and titles a catalogue of the +volumes you have read. You shall make me feel what periods you have +lived. A man shall be the Temple of Fame. He shall walk, as the poets +have described that goddess, in a robe painted all over with wonderful +events and experiences;--his own form and features by their exalted +intelligence shall be that variegated vest. I shall find in him the +Foreworld; in his childhood the Age of Gold, the Apples of Knowledge, +the Argonautic Expedition, the calling of Abraham, the building of the +Temple, the Advent of Christ, Dark Ages, the Revival of Letters, the +Reformation, the discovery of new lands, the opening of new sciences and +new regions in man. He shall be the priest of Pan, and bring with him +into humble cottages the blessing of the morning stars, and all the +recorded benefits of heaven and earth. + +Is there somewhat overweening in this claim? Then I reject all I have +written, for what is the use of pretending to know what we know not? But +it is the fault of our rhetoric that we cannot strongly state one fact +without seeming to belie some other. I hold our actual knowledge very +cheap. Hear the rats in the wall, see the lizard on the fence, +the fungus under foot, the lichen on the log. What do I know +sympathetically, morally, of either of these worlds of life? As old +as the Caucasian man,--perhaps older,--these creatures have kept their +counsel beside him, and there is no record of any word or sign that has +passed from one to the other. What connection do the books show between +the fifty or sixty chemical elements and the historical eras? Nay, what +does history yet record of the metaphysical annals of man? What light +does it shed on those mysteries which we hide under the names Death +and Immortality? Yet every history should be written in a wisdom which +divined the range of our affinities and looked at facts as symbols. I am +ashamed to see what a shallow village tale our so-called History is. How +many times we must say Rome, and Paris, and Constantinople! What does +Rome know of rat and lizard? What are Olympiads and Consulates to these +neighboring systems of being? Nay, what food or experience or succor +have they for the Esquimaux seal-hunter, for the Kanaka in his canoe, +for the fisherman, the stevedore, the porter? + +Broader and deeper we must write our annals,--from an ethical +reformation, from an influx of the ever new, ever sanative +conscience,--if we would trulier express our central and wide-related +nature, instead of this old chronology of selfishness and pride to which +we have too long lent our eyes. Already that day exists for us, shines +in on us at unawares, but the path of science and of letters is not +the way into nature. The idiot, the Indian, the child and unschooled +farmer's boy stand nearer to the light by which nature is to be read, +than the dissector or the antiquary. + +***** + + + SELF-RELIANCE. + + "Ne te quaesiveris extra." + + "Man is his own star; and the soul that can + Render an honest and a perfect man, + Commands all light, all influence, all fate; + Nothing to him falls early or too late. + Our acts our angels are, or good or ill, + Our fatal shadows that walk by us still." + + Epilogue to Beaumont and Fletcher's Honest Man's Fortune. + + + + Cast the bantling on the rocks, + Suckle him with the she-wolf's teat, + Wintered with the hawk and fox. + Power and speed be hands and feet. + + + + +II. SELF-RELIANCE. + +I READ the other day some verses written by an eminent painter which +were original and not conventional. The soul always hears an admonition +in such lines, let the subject be what it may. The sentiment they instil +is of more value than any thought they may contain. To believe your own +thought, to believe that what is true for you in your private heart is +true for all men,--that is genius. Speak your latent conviction, and +it shall be the universal sense; for the inmost in due time becomes the +outmost, and our first thought is rendered back to us by the trumpets +of the Last Judgment. Familiar as the voice of the mind is to each, the +highest merit we ascribe to Moses, Plato and Milton is that they set +at naught books and traditions, and spoke not what men, but what they +thought. A man should learn to detect and watch that gleam of light +which flashes across his mind from within, more than the lustre of +the firmament of bards and sages. Yet he dismisses without notice his +thought, because it is his. In every work of genius we recognize our +own rejected thoughts; they come back to us with a certain alienated +majesty. Great works of art have no more affecting lesson for us +than this. They teach us to abide by our spontaneous impression with +good-humored inflexibility then most when the whole cry of voices is on +the other side. Else to-morrow a stranger will say with masterly good +sense precisely what we have thought and felt all the time, and we shall +be forced to take with shame our own opinion from another. + +There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the +conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he +must take himself for better for worse as his portion; that though the +wide universe is full of good, no kernel of nourishing corn can come to +him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given +to him to till. The power which resides in him is new in nature, and +none but he knows what that is which he can do, nor does he know until +he has tried. Not for nothing one face, one character, one fact, makes +much impression on him, and another none. This sculpture in the memory +is not without preestablished harmony. The eye was placed where one ray +should fall, that it might testify of that particular ray. We but half +express ourselves, and are ashamed of that divine idea which each of +us represents. It may be safely trusted as proportionate and of good +issues, so it be faithfully imparted, but God will not have his work +made manifest by cowards. A man is relieved and gay when he has put +his heart into his work and done his best; but what he has said or done +otherwise shall give him no peace. It is a deliverance which does not +deliver. In the attempt his genius deserts him; no muse befriends; no +invention, no hope. + +Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string. Accept the +place the divine providence has found for you, the society of your +contemporaries, the connection of events. Great men have always done so, +and confided themselves childlike to the genius of their age, betraying +their perception that the absolutely trustworthy was seated at their +heart, working through their hands, predominating in all their being. +And we are now men, and must accept in the highest mind the same +transcendent destiny; and not minors and invalids in a protected corner, +not cowards fleeing before a revolution, but guides, redeemers and +benefactors, obeying the Almighty effort and advancing on Chaos and the +Dark. + +What pretty oracles nature yields us on this text in the face and +behavior of children, babes, and even brutes! That divided and rebel +mind, that distrust of a sentiment because our arithmetic has computed +the strength and means opposed to our purpose, these have not. Their +mind being whole, their eye is as yet unconquered, and when we look in +their faces we are disconcerted. Infancy conforms to nobody; all conform +to it; so that one babe commonly makes four or five out of the adults +who prattle and play to it. So God has armed youth and puberty and +manhood no less with its own piquancy and charm, and made it enviable +and gracious and its claims not to be put by, if it will stand by +itself. Do not think the youth has no force, because he cannot speak to +you and me. Hark! in the next room his voice is sufficiently clear and +emphatic. It seems he knows how to speak to his contemporaries. Bashful +or bold then, he will know how to make us seniors very unnecessary. + +The nonchalance of boys who are sure of a dinner, and would disdain +as much as a lord to do or say aught to conciliate one, is the healthy +attitude of human nature. A boy is in the parlor what the pit is in the +playhouse; independent, irresponsible, looking out from his corner on +such people and facts as pass by, he tries and sentences them on their +merits, in the swift, summary way of boys, as good, bad, interesting, +silly, eloquent, troublesome. He cumbers himself never about +consequences, about interests; he gives an independent, genuine verdict. +You must court him; he does not court you. But the man is as it were +clapped into jail by his consciousness. As soon as he has once acted or +spoken with eclat he is a committed person, watched by the sympathy +or the hatred of hundreds, whose affections must now enter into his +account. There is no Lethe for this. Ah, that he could pass again into +his neutrality! Who can thus avoid all pledges and, having observed, +observe again from the same unaffected, unbiased, unbribable, +unaffrighted innocence,--must always be formidable. He would utter +opinions on all passing affairs, which being seen to be not private but +necessary, would sink like darts into the ear of men and put them in +fear. + +These are the voices which we hear in solitude, but they grow faint +and inaudible as we enter into the world. Society everywhere is in +conspiracy against the manhood of every one of its members. Society is a +joint-stock company, in which the members agree, for the better securing +of his bread to each shareholder, to surrender the liberty and culture +of the eater. The virtue in most request is conformity. Self-reliance +is its aversion. It loves not realities and creators, but names and +customs. + +Whoso would be a man, must be a nonconformist. He who would gather +immortal palms must not be hindered by the name of goodness, but must +explore if it be goodness. Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity +of your own mind. Absolve you to yourself, and you shall have the +suffrage of the world. I remember an answer which when quite young I was +prompted to make to a valued adviser who was wont to importune me with +the dear old doctrines of the church. On my saying, "What have I to do +with the sacredness of traditions, if I live wholly from within?" my +friend suggested,--"But these impulses may be from below, not from +above." I replied, "They do not seem to me to be such; but if I am the +Devil's child, I will live then from the Devil." No law can be sacred +to me but that of my nature. Good and bad are but names very readily +transferable to that or this; the only right is what is after my +constitution; the only wrong what is against it. A man is to carry +himself in the presence of all opposition as if every thing were titular +and ephemeral but he. I am ashamed to think how easily we capitulate to +badges and names, to large societies and dead institutions. Every decent +and well-spoken individual affects and sways me more than is right. I +ought to go upright and vital, and speak the rude truth in all ways. If +malice and vanity wear the coat of philanthropy, shall that pass? If an +angry bigot assumes this bountiful cause of Abolition, and comes to me +with his last news from Barbadoes, why should I not say to him, 'Go love +thy infant; love thy wood-chopper; be good-natured and modest; have +that grace; and never varnish your hard, uncharitable ambition with this +incredible tenderness for black folk a thousand miles off. Thy love afar +is spite at home.' Rough and graceless would be such greeting, but truth +is handsomer than the affectation of love. Your goodness must have some +edge to it,--else it is none. The doctrine of hatred must be preached, +as the counteraction of the doctrine of love, when that pules and +whines. I shun father and mother and wife and brother when my genius +calls me. I would write on the lintels of the door-post, _Whim_. I hope +it is somewhat better than whim at last, but we cannot spend the day +in explanation. Expect me not to show cause why I seek or why I exclude +company. Then again, do not tell me, as a good man did to-day, of my +obligation to put all poor men in good situations. Are they my poor? +I tell thee thou foolish philanthropist that I grudge the dollar, the +dime, the cent, I give to such men as do not belong to me and to whom +I do not belong. There is a class of persons to whom by all spiritual +affinity I am bought and sold; for them I will go to prison if need be; +but your miscellaneous popular charities; the education at college of +fools; the building of meeting-houses to the vain end to which many now +stand; alms to sots, and the thousand-fold Relief Societies;--though +I confess with shame I sometimes succumb and give the dollar, it is a +wicked dollar which by and by I shall have the manhood to withhold. + +Virtues are, in the popular estimate, rather the exception than the +rule. There is the man and his virtues. Men do what is called a good +action, as some piece of courage or charity, much as they would pay a +fine in expiation of daily non-appearance on parade. Their works are +done as an apology or extenuation of their living in the world,--as +invalids and the insane pay a high board. Their virtues are penances. I +do not wish to expiate, but to live. My life is for itself and not for +a spectacle. I much prefer that it should be of a lower strain, so it +be genuine and equal, than that it should be glittering and unsteady. I +wish it to be sound and sweet, and not to need diet and bleeding. I ask +primary evidence that you are a man, and refuse this appeal from the man +to his actions. I know that for myself it makes no difference whether +I do or forbear those actions which are reckoned excellent. I cannot +consent to pay for a privilege where I have intrinsic right. Few and +mean as my gifts may be, I actually am, and do not need for my own +assurance or the assurance of my fellows any secondary testimony. + +What I must do is all that concerns me, not what the people think. This +rule, equally arduous in actual and in intellectual life, may serve for +the whole distinction between greatness and meanness. It is the harder +because you will always find those who think they know what is your +duty better than you know it. It is easy in the world to live after the +world's opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but +the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect +sweetness the independence of solitude. + +The objection to conforming to usages that have become dead to you is +that it scatters your force. It loses your time and blurs the impression +of your character. If you maintain a dead church, contribute to a dead +Bible-society, vote with a great party either for the government or +against it, spread your table like base housekeepers,--under all these +screens I have difficulty to detect the precise man you are: and of +course so much force is withdrawn from your proper life. But do your +work, and I shall know you. Do your work, and you shall reinforce +yourself. A man must consider what a blindman's-buff is this game of +conformity. If I know your sect, I anticipate your argument. I hear a +preacher announce for his text and topic the expediency of one of the +institutions of his church. Do I not know beforehand that not possibly +can he say a new and spontaneous word? Do I not know that with all this +ostentation of examining the grounds of the institution he will do no +such thing? Do I not know that he is pledged to himself not to look but +at one side, the permitted side, not as a man, but as a parish minister? +He is a retained attorney, and these airs of the bench are the emptiest +affectation. Well, most men have bound their eyes with one or another +handkerchief, and attached themselves to some one of these communities +of opinion. This conformity makes them not false in a few particulars, +authors of a few lies, but false in all particulars. Their every truth +is not quite true. Their two is not the real two, their four not the +real four; so that every word they say chagrins us and we know not where +to begin to set them right. Meantime nature is not slow to equip us in +the prison-uniform of the party to which we adhere. We come to wear +one cut of face and figure, and acquire by degrees the gentlest asinine +expression. There is a mortifying experience in particular, which +does not fail to wreak itself also in the general history; I mean "the +foolish face of praise," the forced smile which we put on in company +where we do not feel at ease in answer to conversation which does not +interest us. The muscles, not spontaneously moved but moved by a low +usurping wilfulness, grow tight about the outline of the face with the +most disagreeable sensation. + +For nonconformity the world whips you with its displeasure. And +therefore a man must know how to estimate a sour face. The by-standers +look askance on him in the public street or in the friend's parlor. If +this aversation had its origin in contempt and resistance like his own +he might well go home with a sad countenance; but the sour faces of the +multitude, like their sweet faces, have no deep cause, but are put on +and off as the wind blows and a newspaper directs. Yet is the discontent +of the multitude more formidable than that of the senate and the +college. It is easy enough for a firm man who knows the world to brook +the rage of the cultivated classes. Their rage is decorous and prudent, +for they are timid, as being very vulnerable themselves. But when to +their feminine rage the indignation of the people is added, when the +ignorant and the poor are aroused, when the unintelligent brute force +that lies at the bottom of society is made to growl and mow, it needs +the habit of magnanimity and religion to treat it godlike as a trifle of +no concernment. + +The other terror that scares us from self-trust is our consistency; a +reverence for our past act or word because the eyes of others have no +other data for computing our orbit than our past acts, and we are loath +to disappoint them. + +But why should you keep your head over your shoulder? Why drag about +this corpse of your memory, lest you contradict somewhat you have stated +in this or that public place? Suppose you should contradict yourself; +what then? It seems to be a rule of wisdom never to rely on your memory +alone, scarcely even in acts of pure memory, but to bring the past for +judgment into the thousand-eyed present, and live ever in a new day. In +your metaphysics you have denied personality to the Deity, yet when the +devout motions of the soul come, yield to them heart and life, though +they should clothe God with shape and color. Leave your theory, as +Joseph his coat in the hand of the harlot, and flee. + +A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little +statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul +has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow +on the wall. Speak what you think now in hard words and to-morrow speak +what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict +every thing you said to-day.--'Ah, so you shall be sure to be +misunderstood.'--Is it so bad then to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was +misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, +and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took +flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood. + +I suppose no man can violate his nature. All the sallies of his will +are rounded in by the law of his being, as the inequalities of Andes +and Himmaleh are insignificant in the curve of the sphere. Nor does it +matter how you gauge and try him. A character is like an acrostic or +Alexandrian stanza;--read it forward, backward, or across, it still +spells the same thing. In this pleasing contrite wood-life which God +allows me, let me record day by day my honest thought without prospect +or retrospect, and, I cannot doubt, it will be found symmetrical, though +I mean it not and see it not. My book should smell of pines and resound +with the hum of insects. The swallow over my window should interweave +that thread or straw he carries in his bill into my web also. We pass +for what we are. Character teaches above our wills. Men imagine that +they communicate their virtue or vice only by overt actions, and do not +see that virtue or vice emit a breath every moment. + +There will be an agreement in whatever variety of actions, so they be +each honest and natural in their hour. For of one will, the actions will +be harmonious, however unlike they seem. These varieties are lost sight +of at a little distance, at a little height of thought. One tendency +unites them all. The voyage of the best ship is a zigzag line of +a hundred tacks. See the line from a sufficient distance, and it +straightens itself to the average tendency. Your genuine action will +explain itself and will explain your other genuine actions. Your +conformity explains nothing. Act singly, and what you have already done +singly will justify you now. Greatness appeals to the future. If I can +be firm enough to-day to do right and scorn eyes, I must have done so +much right before as to defend me now. Be it how it will, do right now. +Always scorn appearances and you always may. The force of character is +cumulative. All the foregone days of virtue work their health into this. +What makes the majesty of the heroes of the senate and the field, which +so fills the imagination? The consciousness of a train of great days and +victories behind. They shed an united light on the advancing actor. He +is attended as by a visible escort of angels. That is it which throws +thunder into Chatham's voice, and dignity into Washington's port, and +America into Adams's eye. Honor is venerable to us because it is no +ephemera. It is always ancient virtue. We worship it to-day because it +is not of to-day. We love it and pay it homage because it is not a +trap for our love and homage, but is self-dependent, self-derived, +and therefore of an old immaculate pedigree, even if shown in a young +person. + +I hope in these days we have heard the last of conformity and +consistency. Let the words be gazetted and ridiculous henceforward. +Instead of the gong for dinner, let us hear a whistle from the Spartan +fife. Let us never bow and apologize more. A great man is coming to eat +at my house. I do not wish to please him; I wish that he should wish to +please me. I will stand here for humanity, and though I would make it +kind, I would make it true. Let us affront and reprimand the smooth +mediocrity and squalid contentment of the times, and hurl in the face +of custom and trade and office, the fact which is the upshot of all +history, that there is a great responsible Thinker and Actor working +wherever a man works; that a true man belongs to no other time or place, +but is the centre of things. Where he is, there is nature. He measures +you and all men and all events. Ordinarily, every body in society +reminds us of somewhat else, or of some other person. Character, +reality, reminds you of nothing else; it takes place of the whole +creation. The man must be so much that he must make all circumstances +indifferent. Every true man is a cause, a country, and an age; +requires infinite spaces and numbers and time fully to accomplish his +design;--and posterity seem to follow his steps as a train of clients. A +man Caesar is born, and for ages after we have a Roman Empire. Christ is +born, and millions of minds so grow and cleave to his genius that he is +confounded with virtue and the possible of man. An institution is the +lengthened shadow of one man; as, Monachism, of the Hermit Antony; +the Reformation, of Luther; Quakerism, of Fox; Methodism, of Wesley; +Abolition, of Clarkson. Scipio, Milton called "the height of Rome"; +and all history Resolves itself very easily into the biography of a few +stout and earnest persons. + +Let a man then know his worth, and keep things under his feet. Let him +not peep or steal, or skulk up and down with the air of a charity-boy, a +bastard, or an interloper in the world which exists for him. But the +man in the street, finding no worth in himself which corresponds to the +force which built a tower or sculptured a marble god, feels poor when +he looks on these. To him a palace, a statue, or a costly book have an +alien and forbidding air, much like a gay equipage, and seem to say like +that, 'Who are you, Sir?' Yet they all are his, suitors for his +notice, petitioners to his faculties that they will come out and take +possession. The picture waits for my verdict; it is not to command me, +but I am to settle its claims to praise. That popular fable of the sot +who was picked up dead drunk in the street, carried to the duke's house, +washed and dressed and laid in the duke's bed, and, on his waking, +treated with all obsequious ceremony like the duke, and assured that he +had been insane, owes its popularity to the fact that it symbolizes so +well the state of man, who is in the world a sort of sot, but now and +then wakes up, exercises his reason and finds himself a true prince. + +Our reading is mendicant and sycophantic. In history our imagination +plays us false. Kingdom and lordship, power and estate, are a gaudier +vocabulary than private John and Edward in a small house and common +day's work; but the things of life are the same to both; the sum total +of both is the same. Why all this deference to Alfred and Scanderbeg and +Gustavus? Suppose they were virtuous; did they wear out virtue? As great +a stake depends on your private act to-day, as followed their public +and renowned steps. When private men shall act with original views, +the lustre will be transferred from the actions of kings to those of +gentlemen. + +The world has been instructed by its kings, who have so magnetized the +eyes of nations. It has been taught by this colossal symbol the mutual +reverence that is due from man to man. The joyful loyalty with which men +have everywhere suffered the king, the noble, or the great proprietor +to walk among them by a law of his own, make his own scale of men and +things and reverse theirs, pay for benefits not with money but with +honor, and represent the law in his person, was the hieroglyphic by +which they obscurely signified their consciousness of their own right +and comeliness, the right of every man. + +The magnetism which all original action exerts is explained when we +inquire the reason of self-trust. Who is the Trustee? What is the +aboriginal Self, on which a universal reliance may be grounded? What is +the nature and power of that science-baffling star, without parallax, +without calculable elements, which shoots a ray of beauty even into +trivial and impure actions, if the least mark of independence appear? +The inquiry leads us to that source, at once the essence of genius, of +virtue, and of life, which we call Spontaneity or Instinct. We denote +this primary wisdom as Intuition, whilst all later teachings are +tuitions. In that deep force, the last fact behind which analysis cannot +go, all things find their common origin. For the sense of being which +in calm hours rises, we know not how, in the soul, is not diverse from +things, from space, from light, from time, from man, but one with them +and proceeds obviously from the same source whence their life and +being also proceed. We first share the life by which things exist and +afterwards see them as appearances in nature and forget that we have +shared their cause. Here is the fountain of action and of thought. Here +are the lungs of that inspiration which giveth man wisdom and which +cannot be denied without impiety and atheism. We lie in the lap of +immense intelligence, which makes us receivers of its truth and organs +of its activity. When we discern justice, when we discern truth, we do +nothing of ourselves, but allow a passage to its beams. If we ask whence +this comes, if we seek to pry into the soul that causes, all philosophy +is at fault. Its presence or its absence is all we can affirm. Every man +discriminates between the voluntary acts of his mind and his involuntary +perceptions, and knows that to his involuntary perceptions a perfect +faith is due. He may err in the expression of them, but he knows that +these things are so, like day and night, not to be disputed. My wilful +actions and acquisitions are but roving;--the idlest reverie, the +faintest native emotion, command my curiosity and respect. Thoughtless +people contradict as readily the statement of perceptions as of +opinions, or rather much more readily; for they do not distinguish +between perception and notion. They fancy that I choose to see this +or that thing. But perception is not whimsical, but fatal. If I see +a trait, my children will see it after me, and in course of time all +mankind,--although it may chance that no one has seen it before me. For +my perception of it is as much a fact as the sun. + +The relations of the soul to the divine spirit are so pure that it is +profane to seek to interpose helps. It must be that when God speaketh he +should communicate, not one thing, but all things; should fill the world +with his voice; should scatter forth light, nature, time, souls, from +the centre of the present thought; and new date and new create the +whole. Whenever a mind is simple and receives a divine wisdom, old +things pass away,--means, teachers, texts, temples fall; it lives now, +and absorbs past and future into the present hour. All things are +made sacred by relation to it,--one as much as another. All things are +dissolved to their centre by their cause, and in the universal miracle +petty and particular miracles disappear. If therefore a man claims to +know and speak of God and carries you backward to the phraseology of +some old mouldered nation in another country, in another world, believe +him not. Is the acorn better than the oak which is its fulness and +completion? Is the parent better than the child into whom he has cast +his ripened being? Whence then this worship of the past? The centuries +are conspirators against the sanity and authority of the soul. Time and +space are but physiological colors which the eye makes, but the soul is +light: where it is, is day; where it was, is night; and history is +an impertinence and an injury if it be any thing more than a cheerful +apologue or parable of my being and becoming. + +Man is timid and apologetic; he is no longer upright; he dares not say +'I think,' 'I am,' but quotes some saint or sage. He is ashamed before +the blade of grass or the blowing rose. These roses under my window make +no reference to former roses or to better ones; they are for what they +are; they exist with God to-day. There is no time to them. There is +simply the rose; it is perfect in every moment of its existence. Before +a leaf-bud has burst, its whole life acts; in the full-blown flower +there is no more; in the leafless root there is no less. Its nature +is satisfied and it satisfies nature in all moments alike. But man +postpones or remembers; he does not live in the present, but with +reverted eye laments the past, or, heedless of the riches that surround +him, stands on tiptoe to foresee the future. He cannot be happy and +strong until he too lives with nature in the present, above time. + +This should be plain enough. Yet see what strong intellects dare not +yet hear God himself unless he speak the phraseology of I know not what +David, or Jeremiah, or Paul. We shall not always set so great a price on +a few texts, on a few lives. We are like children who repeat by rote the +sentences of grandames and tutors, and, as they grow older, of the men +of talents and character they chance to see,--painfully recollecting +the exact words they spoke; afterwards, when they come into the point of +view which those had who uttered these sayings, they understand them and +are willing to let the words go; for at any time they can use words as +good when occasion comes. If we live truly, we shall see truly. It is as +easy for the strong man to be strong, as it is for the weak to be weak. +When we have new perception, we shall gladly disburden the memory of its +hoarded treasures as old rubbish. When a man lives with God, his voice +shall be as sweet as the murmur of the brook and the rustle of the corn. + +And now at last the highest truth on this subject remains unsaid; +probably cannot be said; for all that we say is the far-off remembering +of the intuition. That thought by what I can now nearest approach to say +it, is this. When good is near you, when you have life in yourself, +it is not by any known or accustomed way; you shall not discern the +footprints of any other; you shall not see the face of man; you shall +not hear any name;--the way, the thought, the good shall be wholly +strange and new. It shall exclude example and experience. You take +the way from man, not to man. All persons that ever existed are its +forgotten ministers. Fear and hope are alike beneath it. There is +somewhat low even in hope. In the hour of vision there is nothing that +can be called gratitude, nor properly joy. The soul raised over passion +beholds identity and eternal causation, perceives the self-existence of +Truth and Right, and calms itself with knowing that all things go well. +Vast spaces of nature, the Atlantic Ocean, the South Sea; long intervals +of time, years, centuries, are of no account. This which I think and +feel underlay every former state of life and circumstances, as it does +underlie my present, and what is called life, and what is called death. + +Life only avails, not the having lived. Power ceases in the instant +of repose; it resides in the moment of transition from a past to a new +state, in the shooting of the gulf, in the darting to an aim. This one +fact the world hates; that the soul becomes; for that for ever degrades +the past, turns all riches to poverty, all reputation to a shame, +confounds the saint with the rogue, shoves Jesus and Judas equally +aside. Why then do we prate of self-reliance? Inasmuch as the soul is +present there will be power not confident but agent. To talk of reliance +is a poor external way of speaking. Speak rather of that which relies +because it works and is. Who has more obedience than I masters me, +though he should not raise his finger. Round him I must revolve by the +gravitation of spirits. We fancy it rhetoric when we speak of eminent +virtue. We do not yet see that virtue is Height, and that a man or +a company of men, plastic and permeable to principles, by the law of +nature must overpower and ride all cities, nations, kings, rich men, +poets, who are not. + +This is the ultimate fact which we so quickly reach on this, as on every +topic, the resolution of all into the ever-blessed ONE. Self-existence +is the attribute of the Supreme Cause, and it constitutes the measure of +good by the degree in which it enters into all lower forms. All things +real are so by so much virtue as they contain. Commerce, husbandry, +hunting, whaling, war, eloquence, personal weight, are somewhat, and +engage my respect as examples of its presence and impure action. I see +the same law working in nature for conservation and growth. Power is, in +nature, the essential measure of right. Nature suffers nothing to remain +in her kingdoms which cannot help itself. The genesis and maturation of +a planet, its poise and orbit, the bended tree recovering itself from +the strong wind, the vital resources of every animal and vegetable, are +demonstrations of the self-sufficing and therefore self-relying soul. + +Thus all concentrates: let us not rove; let us sit at home with the +cause. Let us stun and astonish the intruding rabble of men and books +and institutions, by a simple declaration of the divine fact. Bid the +invaders take the shoes from off their feet, for God is here within. Let +our simplicity judge them, and our docility to our own law demonstrate +the poverty of nature and fortune beside our native riches. + +But now we are a mob. Man does not stand in awe of man, nor is his +genius admonished to stay at home, to put itself in communication with +the internal ocean, but it goes abroad to beg a cup of water of the +urns of other men. We must go alone. I like the silent church before the +service begins, better than any preaching. How far off, how cool, how +chaste the persons look, begirt each one with a precinct or sanctuary! +So let us always sit. Why should we assume the faults of our friend, or +wife, or father, or child, because they sit around our hearth, or are +said to have the same blood? All men have my blood and I have all men's. +Not for that will I adopt their petulance or folly, even to the extent +of being ashamed of it. But your isolation must not be mechanical, but +spiritual, that is, must be elevation. At times the whole world seems to +be in conspiracy to importune you with emphatic trifles. Friend, client, +child, sickness, fear, want, charity, all knock at once at thy closet +door and say,--'Come out unto us.' But keep thy state; come not into +their confusion. The power men possess to annoy me I give them by a weak +curiosity. No man can come near me but through my act. "What we love +that we have, but by desire we bereave ourselves of the love." + +If we cannot at once rise to the sanctities of obedience and faith, let +us at least resist our temptations; let us enter into the state of war +and wake Thor and Woden, courage and constancy, in our Saxon breasts. +This is to be done in our smooth times by speaking the truth. Check this +lying hospitality and lying affection. Live no longer to the expectation +of these deceived and deceiving people with whom we converse. Say to +them, 'O father, O mother, O wife, O brother, O friend, I have lived +with you after appearances hitherto. Henceforward I am the truth's. Be +it known unto you that henceforward I obey no law less than the eternal +law. I will have no covenants but proximities. I shall endeavour to +nourish my parents, to support my family, to be the chaste husband of +one wife,--but these relations I must fill after a new and unprecedented +way. I appeal from your customs. I must be myself. I cannot break myself +any longer for you, or you. If you can love me for what I am, we shall +be the happier. If you cannot, I will still seek to deserve that you +should. I will not hide my tastes or aversions. I will so trust that +what is deep is holy, that I will do strongly before the sun and moon +whatever inly rejoices me and the heart appoints. If you are noble, +I will love you: if you are not, I will not hurt you and myself by +hypocritical attentions. If you are true, but not in the same truth +with me, cleave to your companions; I will seek my own. I do this not +selfishly but humbly and truly. It is alike your interest, and mine, and +all men's, however long we have dwelt in lies, to live in truth. Does +this sound harsh to-day? You will soon love what is dictated by your +nature as well as mine, and if we follow the truth it will bring us +out safe at last.'--But so may you give these friends pain. Yes, but I +cannot sell my liberty and my power, to save their sensibility. Besides, +all persons have their moments of reason, when they look out into the +region of absolute truth; then will they justify me and do the same +thing. + +The populace think that your rejection of popular standards is a +rejection of all standard, and mere antinomianism; and the bold +sensualist will use the name of philosophy to gild his crimes. But the +law of consciousness abides. There are two confessionals, in one or the +other of which we must be shriven. You may fulfil your round of duties +by clearing yourself in the direct, or in the reflex way. Consider +whether you have satisfied your relations to father, mother, cousin, +neighbor, town, cat, and dog; whether any of these can upbraid you. But +I may also neglect this reflex standard and absolve me to myself. I have +my own stern claims and perfect circle. It denies the name of duty to +many offices that are called duties. But if I can discharge its debts it +enables me to dispense with the popular code. If any one imagines that +this law is lax, let him keep its commandment one day. + +And truly it demands something godlike in him who has cast off the +common motives of humanity and has ventured to trust himself for a +taskmaster. High be his heart, faithful his will, clear his sight, that +he may in good earnest be doctrine, society, law, to himself, that a +simple purpose may be to him as strong as iron necessity is to others! + +If any man consider the present aspects of what is called by distinction +society, he will see the need of these ethics. The sinew and heart +of man seem to be drawn out, and we are become timorous, desponding +whimperers. We are afraid of truth, afraid of fortune, afraid of death +and afraid of each other. Our age yields no great and perfect persons. +We want men and women who shall renovate life and our social state, but +we see that most natures are insolvent, cannot satisfy their own wants, +have an ambition out of all proportion to their practical force and do +lean and beg day and night continually. Our housekeeping is mendicant, +our arts, our occupations, our marriages, our religion we have not +chosen, but society has chosen for us. We are parlor soldiers. We shun +the rugged battle of fate, where strength is born. + +If our young men miscarry in their first enterprises they lose all +heart. If the young merchant fails, men say he is ruined. If the finest +genius studies at one of our colleges and is not installed in an office +within one year afterwards in the cities or suburbs of Boston or New +York, it seems to his friends and to himself that he is right in being +disheartened and in complaining the rest of his life. A sturdy lad from +New Hampshire or Vermont, who in turn tries all the professions, +who teams it, farms it, peddles, keeps a school, preaches, edits +a newspaper, goes to Congress, buys a township, and so forth, in +successive years, and always like a cat falls on his feet, is worth a +hundred of these city dolls. He walks abreast with his days and feels no +shame in not 'studying a profession,' for he does not postpone his life, +but lives already. He has not one chance, but a hundred chances. Let +a Stoic open the resources of man and tell men they are not leaning +willows, but can and must detach themselves; that with the exercise of +self-trust, new powers shall appear; that a man is the word made flesh, +born to shed healing to the nations; that he should be ashamed of our +compassion, and that the moment he acts from himself, tossing the laws, +the books, idolatries and customs out of the window, we pity him no more +but thank and revere him;--and that teacher shall restore the life of +man to splendor and make his name dear to all history. + +It is easy to see that a greater self-reliance must work a revolution +in all the offices and relations of men; in their religion; in their +education; in their pursuits; their modes of living; their association; +in their property; in their speculative views. + +1. In what prayers do men allow themselves! That which they call a holy +office is not so much as brave and manly. Prayer looks abroad and asks +for some foreign addition to come through some foreign virtue, and loses +itself in endless mazes of natural and supernatural, and mediatorial and +miraculous. Prayer that craves a particular commodity, any thing less +than all good, is vicious. Prayer is the contemplation of the facts of +life from the highest point of view. It is the soliloquy of a beholding +and jubilant soul. It is the spirit of God pronouncing his works good. +But prayer as a means to effect a private end is meanness and theft. It +supposes dualism and not unity in nature and consciousness. As soon as +the man is at one with God, he will not beg. He will then see prayer in +all action. The prayer of the farmer kneeling in his field to weed it, +the prayer of the rower kneeling with the stroke of his oar, are true +prayers heard throughout nature, though for cheap ends. Caratach, in +Fletcher's Bonduca, when admonished to inquire the mind of the god +Audate, replies,-- + + "His hidden meaning lies in our endeavors; + Our valors are our best gods." + +Another sort of false prayers are our regrets. Discontent is the want +of self-reliance: it is infirmity of will. Regret calamities if you can +thereby help the sufferer; if not, attend your own work and already the +evil begins to be repaired. Our sympathy is just as base. We come to +them who weep foolishly and sit down and cry for company, instead of +imparting to them truth and health in rough electric shocks, putting +them once more in communication with their own reason. The secret of +fortune is joy in our hands. Welcome evermore to gods and men is the +self-helping man. For him all doors are flung wide; him all tongues +greet, all honors crown, all eyes follow with desire. Our love goes out +to him and embraces him because he did not need it. We solicitously and +apologetically caress and celebrate him because he held on his way and +scorned our disapprobation. The gods love him because men hated him. +"To the persevering mortal," said Zoroaster, "the blessed Immortals are +swift." + +As men's prayers are a disease of the will, so are their creeds a +disease of the intellect. They say with those foolish Israelites, 'Let +not God speak to us, lest we die. Speak thou, speak any man with us, and +we will obey.' Everywhere I am hindered of meeting God in my brother, +because he has shut his own temple doors and recites fables merely of +his brother's, or his brother's brother's God. Every new mind is a new +classification. If it prove a mind of uncommon activity and power, +a Locke, a Lavoisier, a Hutton, a Bentham, a Fourier, it imposes its +classification on other men, and lo! a new system. In proportion to the +depth of the thought, and so to the number of the objects it touches +and brings within reach of the pupil, is his complacency. But chiefly is +this apparent in creeds and churches, which are also classifications of +some powerful mind acting on the elemental thought of duty, and man's +relation to the Highest. Such is Calvinism, Quakerism, Swedenborgism. +The pupil takes the same delight in subordinating every thing to the new +terminology as a girl who has just learned botany in seeing a new earth +and new seasons thereby. It will happen for a time that the pupil will +find his intellectual power has grown by the study of his master's mind. +But in all unbalanced minds the classification is idolized, passes for +the end and not for a speedily exhaustible means, so that the walls of +the system blend to their eye in the remote horizon with the walls of +the universe; the luminaries of heaven seem to them hung on the arch +their master built. They cannot imagine how you aliens have any right to +see,--how you can see; 'It must be somehow that you stole the light from +us.' They do not yet perceive that light, unsystematic, indomitable, +will break into any cabin, even into theirs. Let them chirp awhile and +call it their own. If they are honest and do well, presently their neat +new pinfold will be too strait and low, will crack, will lean, will rot +and vanish, and the immortal light, all young and joyful, million-orbed, +million-colored, will beam over the universe as on the first morning. + +2. It is for want of self-culture that the superstition of Travelling, +whose idols are Italy, England, Egypt, retains its fascination for all +educated Americans. They who made England, Italy, or Greece venerable in +the imagination did so by sticking fast where they were, like an axis of +the earth. In manly hours we feel that duty is our place. The soul is +no traveller; the wise man stays at home, and when his necessities, his +duties, on any occasion call him from his house, or into foreign lands, +he is at home still and shall make men sensible by the expression of +his countenance that he goes, the missionary of wisdom and virtue, and +visits cities and men like a sovereign and not like an interloper or a +valet. + +I have no churlish objection to the circumnavigation of the globe for +the purposes of art, of study, and benevolence, so that the man is first +domesticated, or does not go abroad with the hope of finding somewhat +greater than he knows. He who travels to be amused, or to get somewhat +which he does not carry, travels away from himself, and grows old even +in youth among old things. In Thebes, in Palmyra, his will and mind have +become old and dilapidated as they. He carries ruins to ruins. + +Travelling is a fool's paradise. Our first journeys discover to us the +indifference of places. At home I dream that at Naples, at Rome, I can +be intoxicated with beauty and lose my sadness. I pack my trunk, embrace +my friends, embark on the sea and at last wake up in Naples, and there +beside me is the stern fact, the sad self, unrelenting, identical, +that I fled from. I seek the Vatican and the palaces. I affect to be +intoxicated with sights and suggestions, but I am not intoxicated. My +giant goes with me wherever I go. + +3. But the rage of travelling is a symptom of a deeper unsoundness +affecting the whole intellectual action. The intellect is vagabond, and +our system of education fosters restlessness. Our minds travel when our +bodies are forced to stay at home. We imitate; and what is imitation but +the travelling of the mind? Our houses are built with foreign taste; our +shelves are garnished with foreign ornaments; our opinions, our tastes, +our faculties, lean, and follow the Past and the Distant. The soul +created the arts wherever they have flourished. It was in his own mind +that the artist sought his model. It was an application of his own +thought to the thing to be done and the conditions to be observed. And +why need we copy the Doric or the Gothic model? Beauty, convenience, +grandeur of thought and quaint expression are as near to us as to any, +and if the American artist will study with hope and love the precise +thing to be done by him, considering the climate, the soil, the +length of the day, the wants of the people, the habit and form of +the government, he will create a house in which all these will find +themselves fitted, and taste and sentiment will be satisfied also. + +Insist on yourself; never imitate. Your own gift you can present every +moment with the cumulative force of a whole life's cultivation; but +of the adopted talent of another you have only an extemporaneous half +possession. That which each can do best, none but his Maker can +teach him. No man yet knows what it is, nor can, till that person has +exhibited it. Where is the master who could have taught Shakspeare? +Where is the master who could have instructed Franklin, or Washington, +or Bacon, or Newton? Every great man is a unique. The Scipionism of +Scipio is precisely that part he could not borrow. Shakspeare will never +be made by the study of Shakspeare. Do that which is assigned you, and +you cannot hope too much or dare too much. There is at this moment +for you an utterance brave and grand as that of the colossal chisel of +Phidias, or trowel of the Egyptians, or the pen of Moses or Dante, but +different from all these. Not possibly will the soul, all rich, all +eloquent, with thousand-cloven tongue, deign to repeat itself; but if +you can hear what these patriarchs say, surely you can reply to them in +the same pitch of voice; for the ear and the tongue are two organs of +one nature. Abide in the simple and noble regions of thy life, obey thy +heart and thou shalt reproduce the Foreworld again. + +4. As our Religion, our Education, our Art look abroad, so does our +spirit of society. All men plume themselves on the improvement of +society, and no man improves. + +Society never advances. It recedes as fast on one side as it gains +on the other. It undergoes continual changes; it is barbarous, it is +civilized, it is christianized, it is rich, it is scientific; but this +change is not amelioration. For every thing that is given something +is taken. Society acquires new arts and loses old instincts. What a +contrast between the well-clad, reading, writing, thinking American, +with a watch, a pencil and a bill of exchange in his pocket, and the +naked New Zealander, whose property is a club, a spear, a mat and an +undivided twentieth of a shed to sleep under! But compare the health of +the two men and you shall see that the white man has lost his aboriginal +strength. If the traveller tell us truly, strike the savage with a broad +axe and in a day or two the flesh shall unite and heal as if you struck +the blow into soft pitch, and the same blow shall send the white to his +grave. + +The civilized man has built a coach, but has lost the use of his feet. +He is supported on crutches, but lacks so much support of muscle. He has +a fine Geneva watch, but he fails of the skill to tell the hour by +the sun. A Greenwich nautical almanac he has, and so being sure of the +information when he wants it, the man in the street does not know a star +in the sky. The solstice he does not observe; the equinox he knows as +little; and the whole bright calendar of the year is without a dial in +his mind. His note-books impair his memory; his libraries overload his +wit; the insurance-office increases the number of accidents; and it may +be a question whether machinery does not encumber; whether we have +not lost by refinement some energy, by a Christianity entrenched in +establishments and forms some vigor of wild virtue. For every Stoic was +a Stoic; but in Christendom where is the Christian? + +There is no more deviation in the moral standard than in the standard +of height or bulk. No greater men are now than ever were. A singular +equality may be observed between the great men of the first and of the +last ages; nor can all the science, art, religion, and philosophy of the +nineteenth century avail to educate greater men than Plutarch's +heroes, three or four and twenty centuries ago. Not in time is the race +progressive. Phocion, Socrates, Anaxagoras, Diogenes, are great men, but +they leave no class. He who is really of their class will not be called +by their name, but will be his own man, and in his turn the founder of a +sect. The arts and inventions of each period are only its costume and +do not invigorate men. The harm of the improved machinery may compensate +its good. Hudson and Behring accomplished so much in their fishing-boats +as to astonish Parry and Franklin, whose equipment exhausted the +resources of science and art. Galileo, with an opera-glass, discovered a +more splendid series of celestial phenomena than any one since. Columbus +found the New World in an undecked boat. It is curious to see the +periodical disuse and perishing of means and machinery which were +introduced with loud laudation a few years or centuries before. The +great genius returns to essential man. We reckoned the improvements of +the art of war among the triumphs of science, and yet Napoleon conquered +Europe by the bivouac, which consisted of falling back on naked valor +and disencumbering it of all aids. The Emperor held it impossible to +make a perfect army, says Las Cases, "without abolishing our arms, +magazines, commissaries and carriages, until, in imitation of the Roman +custom, the soldier should receive his supply of corn, grind it in his +hand-mill, and bake his bread himself." + +Society is a wave. The wave moves onward, but the water of which it is +composed does not. The same particle does not rise from the valley +to the ridge. Its unity is only phenomenal. The persons who make up a +nation to-day, next year die, and their experience with them. + +And so the reliance on Property, including the reliance on governments +which protect it, is the want of self-reliance. Men have looked away +from themselves and at things so long that they have come to esteem the +religious, learned and civil institutions as guards of property, and +they deprecate assaults on these, because they feel them to be assaults +on property. They measure their esteem of each other by what each has, +and not by what each is. But a cultivated man becomes ashamed of his +property, out of new respect for his nature. Especially he hates what +he has if he see that it is accidental,--came to him by inheritance, or +gift, or crime; then he feels that it is not having; it does not belong +to him, has no root in him and merely lies there because no revolution +or no robber takes it away. But that which a man is, does always by +necessity acquire, and what the man acquires is living property, which +does not wait the beck of rulers, or mobs, or revolutions, or fire, or +storm, or bankruptcies, but perpetually renews itself wherever the man +breathes. "Thy lot or portion of life," said the Caliph Ali, "is seeking +after thee; therefore be at rest from seeking after it." Our dependence +on these foreign goods leads us to our slavish respect for numbers. +The political parties meet in numerous conventions; the greater the +concourse and with each new uproar of announcement, The delegation from +Essex! The Democrats from New Hampshire! The Whigs of Maine! the young +patriot feels himself stronger than before by a new thousand of eyes +and arms. In like manner the reformers summon conventions and vote and +resolve in multitude. Not so, O friends! will the God deign to enter and +inhabit you, but by a method precisely the reverse. It is only as a +man puts off all foreign support and stands alone that I see him to be +strong and to prevail. He is weaker by every recruit to his banner. Is +not a man better than a town? Ask nothing of men, and, in the endless +mutation, thou only firm column must presently appear the upholder of +all that surrounds thee. He who knows that power is inborn, that he is +weak because he has looked for good out of him and elsewhere, and so +perceiving, throws himself unhesitatingly on his thought, instantly +rights himself, stands in the erect position, commands his limbs, works +miracles; just as a man who stands on his feet is stronger than a man +who stands on his head. + +So use all that is called Fortune. Most men gamble with her, and gain +all, and lose all, as her wheel rolls. But do thou leave as unlawful +these winnings, and deal with Cause and Effect, the chancellors of God. +In the Will work and acquire, and thou hast chained the wheel of Chance, +and shalt sit hereafter out of fear from her rotations. A political +victory, a rise of rents, the recovery of your sick or the return of +your absent friend, or some other favorable event raises your spirits, +and you think good days are preparing for you. Do not believe it. +Nothing can bring you peace but yourself. Nothing can bring you peace +but the triumph of principles. + +***** + + + COMPENSATION. + + The wings of Time are black and white, + Pied with morning and with night. + Mountain tall and ocean deep + Trembling balance duly keep. + In changing moon, in tidal wave, + Glows the feud of Want and Have. + Gauge of more and less through space + Electric star and pencil plays. + The lonely Earth amid the balls + That hurry through the eternal halls, + A makeweight flying to the void, + Supplemental asteroid, + Or compensatory spark, + Shoots across the neutral Dark. + + Man's the elm, and Wealth the vine, + Stanch and strong the tendrils twine: + Though the frail ringlets thee deceive, + None from its stock that vine can reave. + Fear not, then, thou child infirm, + There's no god dare wrong a worm. + Laurel crowns cleave to deserts + And power to him who power exerts; + Hast not thy share? On winged feet, + Lo! it rushes thee to meet; + And all that Nature made thy own, + Floating in air or pent in stone, + Will rive the hills and swim the sea + And, like thy shadow, follow thee. + + + + +III. COMPENSATION. + +Ever since I was a boy I have wished to write a discourse on +Compensation; for it seemed to me when very young that on this subject +life was ahead of theology and the people knew more than the preachers +taught. The documents too from which the doctrine is to be drawn, +charmed my fancy by their endless variety, and lay always before me, +even in sleep; for they are the tools in our hands, the bread in our +basket, the transactions of the street, the farm and the dwelling-house; +greetings, relations, debts and credits, the influence of character, the +nature and endowment of all men. It seemed to me also that in it might +be shown men a ray of divinity, the present action of the soul of this +world, clean from all vestige of tradition; and so the heart of man +might be bathed by an inundation of eternal love, conversing with that +which he knows was always and always must be, because it really is now. +It appeared moreover that if this doctrine could be stated in terms +with any resemblance to those bright intuitions in which this truth +is sometimes revealed to us, it would be a star in many dark hours and +crooked passages in our journey, that would not suffer us to lose our +way. + +I was lately confirmed in these desires by hearing a sermon at church. +The preacher, a man esteemed for his orthodoxy, unfolded in the ordinary +manner the doctrine of the Last Judgment. He assumed that judgment is +not executed in this world; that the wicked are successful; that the +good are miserable; and then urged from reason and from Scripture a +compensation to be made to both parties in the next life. No offence +appeared to be taken by the congregation at this doctrine. As far as I +could observe when the meeting broke up they separated without remark on +the sermon. + +Yet what was the import of this teaching? What did the preacher mean +by saying that the good are miserable in the present life? Was it that +houses and lands, offices, wine, horses, dress, luxury, are had by +unprincipled men, whilst the saints are poor and despised; and that a +compensation is to be made to these last hereafter, by giving them the +like gratifications another day,--bank-stock and doubloons, venison and +champagne? This must be the compensation intended; for what else? Is it +that they are to have leave to pray and praise? to love and serve men? +Why, that they can do now. The legitimate inference the disciple +would draw was,--'We are to have such a good time as the sinners have +now';--or, to push it to its extreme import,--'You sin now; we shall +sin by and by; we would sin now, if we could; not being successful, we +expect our revenge to-morrow.' + +The fallacy lay in the immense concession that the bad are successful; +that justice is not done now. The blindness of the preacher consisted in +deferring to the base estimate of the market of what constitutes a manly +success, instead of confronting and convicting the world from the truth; +announcing the presence of the soul; the omnipotence of the will; and so +establishing the standard of good and ill, of success and falsehood. + +I find a similar base tone in the popular religious works of the day and +the same doctrines assumed by the literary men when occasionally they +treat the related topics. I think that our popular theology has +gained in decorum, and not in principle, over the superstitions it has +displaced. But men are better than their theology. Their daily life +gives it the lie. Every ingenuous and aspiring soul leaves the doctrine +behind him in his own experience, and all men feel sometimes the +falsehood which they cannot demonstrate. For men are wiser than they +know. That which they hear in schools and pulpits without afterthought, +if said in conversation would probably be questioned in silence. If a +man dogmatize in a mixed company on Providence and the divine laws, he +is answered by a silence which conveys well enough to an observer +the dissatisfaction of the hearer, but his incapacity to make his own +statement. + +I shall attempt in this and the following chapter to record some facts +that indicate the path of the law of Compensation; happy beyond my +expectation if I shall truly draw the smallest arc of this circle. + +POLARITY, or action and reaction, we meet in every part of nature; in +darkness and light; in heat and cold; in the ebb and flow of waters; +in male and female; in the inspiration and expiration of plants and +animals; in the equation of quantity and quality in the fluids of +the animal body; in the systole and diastole of the heart; in the +undulations of fluids, and of sound; in the centrifugal and centripetal +gravity; in electricity, galvanism, and chemical affinity. Superinduce +magnetism at one end of a needle, the opposite magnetism takes place at +the other end. If the south attracts, the north repels. To empty here, +you must condense there. An inevitable dualism bisects nature, so that +each thing is a half, and suggests another thing to make it whole; as, +spirit, matter; man, woman; odd, even; subjective, objective; in, out; +upper, under; motion, rest; yea, nay. + +Whilst the world is thus dual, so is every one of its parts. The entire +system of things gets represented in every particle. There is somewhat +that resembles the ebb and flow of the sea, day and night, man and +woman, in a single needle of the pine, in a kernel of corn, in each +individual of every animal tribe. The reaction, so grand in the +elements, is repeated within these small boundaries. For example, in +the animal kingdom the physiologist has observed that no creatures are +favorites, but a certain compensation balances every gift and every +defect. A surplusage given to one part is paid out of a reduction from +another part of the same creature. If the head and neck are enlarged, +the trunk and extremities are cut short. + +The theory of the mechanic forces is another example. What we gain in +power is lost in time, and the converse. The periodic or compensating +errors of the planets is another instance. The influences of climate and +soil in political history are another. The cold climate invigorates. The +barren soil does not breed fevers, crocodiles, tigers or scorpions. + +The same dualism underlies the nature and condition of man. Every excess +causes a defect; every defect an excess. Every sweet hath its sour; +every evil its good. Every faculty which is a receiver of pleasure has +an equal penalty put on its abuse. It is to answer for its moderation +with its life. For every grain of wit there is a grain of folly. For +every thing you have missed, you have gained something else; and for +every thing you gain, you lose something. If riches increase, they are +increased that use them. If the gatherer gathers too much, Nature takes +out of the man what she puts into his chest; swells the estate, but +kills the owner. Nature hates monopolies and exceptions. The waves of +the sea do not more speedily seek a level from their loftiest tossing +than the varieties of condition tend to equalize themselves. There is +always some levelling circumstance that puts down the overbearing, the +strong, the rich, the fortunate, substantially on the same ground with +all others. Is a man too strong and fierce for society and by temper and +position a bad citizen,--a morose ruffian, with a dash of the pirate +in him?--Nature sends him a troop of pretty sons and daughters who are +getting along in the dame's classes at the village school, and love and +fear for them smooths his grim scowl to courtesy. Thus she contrives to +intenerate the granite and felspar, takes the boar out and puts the lamb +in and keeps her balance true. + +The farmer imagines power and place are fine things. But the President +has paid dear for his White House. It has commonly cost him all his +peace, and the best of his manly attributes. To preserve for a short +time so conspicuous an appearance before the world, he is content to eat +dust before the real masters who stand erect behind the throne. Or, +do men desire the more substantial and permanent grandeur of genius? +Neither has this an immunity. He who by force of will or of thought is +great and overlooks thousands, has the charges of that eminence. With +every influx of light comes new danger. Has he light? he must bear +witness to the light, and always outrun that sympathy which gives +him such keen satisfaction, by his fidelity to new revelations of the +incessant soul. He must hate father and mother, wife and child. Has he +all that the world loves and admires and covets?--he must cast behind +him their admiration, and afflict them by faithfulness to his truth, and +become a byword and a hissing. + +This law writes the laws of cities and nations. It is in vain to build +or plot or combine against it. Things refuse to be mismanaged long. Res +nolunt diu male administrari. Though no checks to a new evil appear, +the checks exist, and will appear. If the government is cruel, the +governor's life is not safe. If you tax too high, the revenue will +yield nothing. If you make the criminal code sanguinary, juries will +not convict. If the law is too mild, private vengeance comes in. If +the government is a terrific democracy, the pressure is resisted by +an over-charge of energy in the citizen, and life glows with a fiercer +flame. The true life and satisfactions of man seem to elude the utmost +rigors or felicities of condition and to establish themselves with great +indifferency under all varieties of circumstances. Under all governments +the influence of character remains the same,--in Turkey and in New +England about alike. Under the primeval despots of Egypt, history +honestly confesses that man must have been as free as culture could make +him. + +These appearances indicate the fact that the universe is represented +in every one of its particles. Every thing in nature contains all +the powers of nature. Every thing is made of one hidden stuff; as the +naturalist sees one type under every metamorphosis, and regards a horse +as a running man, a fish as a swimming man, a bird as a flying man, a +tree as a rooted man. Each new form repeats not only the main +character of the type, but part for part all the details, all the aims, +furtherances, hindrances, energies and whole system of every other. +Every occupation, trade, art, transaction, is a compend of the world +and a correlative of every other. Each one is an entire emblem of human +life; of its good and ill, its trials, its enemies, its course and its +end. And each one must somehow accommodate the whole man and recite all +his destiny. + +The world globes itself in a drop of dew. The microscope cannot find the +animalcule which is less perfect for being little. Eyes, ears, taste, +smell, motion, resistance, appetite, and organs of reproduction that +take hold on eternity,--all find room to consist in the small creature. +So do we put our life into every act. The true doctrine of omnipresence +is that God reappears with all his parts in every moss and cobweb. The +value of the universe contrives to throw itself into every point. If the +good is there, so is the evil; if the affinity, so the repulsion; if the +force, so the limitation. + +Thus is the universe alive. All things are moral. That soul which within +us is a sentiment, outside of us is a law. We feel its inspiration; out +there in history we can see its fatal strength. "It is in the world, and +the world was made by it." Justice is not postponed. A perfect +equity adjusts its balance in all parts of life. Hoi kuboi Dios aei +eupiptousi,--The dice of God are always loaded. The world looks like a +multiplication-table, or a mathematical equation, which, turn it how you +will, balances itself. Take what figure you will, its exact value, nor +more nor less, still returns to you. Every secret is told, every crime +is punished, every virtue rewarded, every wrong redressed, in silence +and certainty. What we call retribution is the universal necessity by +which the whole appears wherever a part appears. If you see smoke, there +must be fire. If you see a hand or a limb, you know that the trunk to +which it belongs is there behind. + +Every act rewards itself, or, in other words integrates itself, in a +twofold manner; first in the thing, or in real nature; and secondly in +the circumstance, or in apparent nature. Men call the circumstance the +retribution. The causal retribution is in the thing and is seen by the +soul. The retribution in the circumstance is seen by the understanding; +it is inseparable from the thing, but is often spread over a long time +and so does not become distinct until after many years. The specific +stripes may follow late after the offence, but they follow because they +accompany it. Crime and punishment grow out of one stem. Punishment is +a fruit that unsuspected ripens within the flower of the pleasure which +concealed it. Cause and effect, means and ends, seed and fruit, +cannot be severed; for the effect already blooms in the cause, the end +preexists in the means, the fruit in the seed. + +Whilst thus the world will be whole and refuses to be disparted, we seek +to act partially, to sunder, to appropriate; for example,--to gratify +the senses we sever the pleasure of the senses from the needs of +the character. The ingenuity of man has always been dedicated to the +solution of one problem,--how to detach the sensual sweet, the sensual +strong, the sensual bright, etc., from the moral sweet, the moral deep, +the moral fair; that is, again, to contrive to cut clean off this upper +surface so thin as to leave it bottomless; to get a one end, without an +other end. The soul says, 'Eat;' the body would feast. The soul says, +'The man and woman shall be one flesh and one soul;' the body would join +the flesh only. The soul says, 'Have dominion over all things to the +ends of virtue;' the body would have the power over things to its own +ends. + +The soul strives amain to live and work through all things. It would +be the only fact. All things shall be added unto it,--power, pleasure, +knowledge, beauty. The particular man aims to be somebody; to set up for +himself; to truck and higgle for a private good; and, in particulars, to +ride that he may ride; to dress that he may be dressed; to eat that he +may eat; and to govern, that he may be seen. Men seek to be great; they +would have offices, wealth, power, and fame. They think that to be great +is to possess one side of nature,--the sweet, without the other side, +the bitter. + +This dividing and detaching is steadily counteracted. Up to this day +it must be owned no projector has had the smallest success. The parted +water reunites behind our hand. Pleasure is taken out of pleasant +things, profit out of profitable things, power out of strong things, as +soon as we seek to separate them from the whole. We can no more halve +things and get the sensual good, by itself, than we can get an inside +that shall have no outside, or a light without a shadow. "Drive out +Nature with a fork, she comes running back." + +Life invests itself with inevitable conditions, which the unwise seek to +dodge, which one and another brags that he does not know, that they do +not touch him;--but the brag is on his lips, the conditions are in his +soul. If he escapes them in one part they attack him in another more +vital part. If he has escaped them in form and in the appearance, it +is because he has resisted his life and fled from himself, and the +retribution is so much death. So signal is the failure of all attempts +to make this separation of the good from the tax, that the experiment +would not be tried,--since to try it is to be mad,--but for the +circumstance, that when the disease began in the will, of rebellion and +separation, the intellect is at once infected, so that the man ceases to +see God whole in each object, but is able to see the sensual allurement +of an object and not see the sensual hurt; he sees the mermaid's head +but not the dragon's tail, and thinks he can cut off that which he +would have from that which he would not have. "How secret art thou +who dwellest in the highest heavens in silence, O thou only great God, +sprinkling with an unwearied providence certain penal blindnesses upon +such as have unbridled desires!" {1} + + 1 St. Augustine, Confessions, B. I. + +The human soul is true to these facts in the painting of fable, of +history, of law, of proverbs, of conversation. It finds a tongue in +literature unawares. Thus the Greeks called Jupiter, Supreme Mind; +but having traditionally ascribed to him many base actions, they +involuntarily made amends to reason by tying up the hands of so bad a +god. He is made as helpless as a king of England. Prometheus knows one +secret which Jove must bargain for; Minerva, another. He cannot get his +own thunders; Minerva keeps the key of them:-- + + "Of all the gods, I only know the keys + That ope the solid doors within whose vaults + His thunders sleep." + +A plain confession of the in-working of the All and of its moral +aim. The Indian mythology ends in the same ethics; and it would seem +impossible for any fable to be invented and get any currency which was +not moral. Aurora forgot to ask youth for her lover, and though Tithonus +is immortal, he is old. Achilles is not quite invulnerable; the sacred +waters did not wash the heel by which Thetis held him. Siegfried, in the +Nibelungen, is not quite immortal, for a leaf fell on his back whilst +he was bathing in the dragon's blood, and that spot which it covered is +mortal. And so it must be. There is a crack in every thing God has made. +It would seem there is always this vindictive circumstance stealing in +at unawares even into the wild poesy in which the human fancy attempted +to make bold holiday and to shake itself free of the old laws,--this +back-stroke, this kick of the gun, certifying that the law is fatal; +that in nature nothing can be given, all things are sold. + +This is that ancient doctrine of Nemesis, who keeps watch in the +universe and lets no offence go unchastised. The Furies they said are +attendants on justice, and if the sun in heaven should transgress his +path they would punish him. The poets related that stone walls and iron +swords and leathern thongs had an occult sympathy with the wrongs of +their owners; that the belt which Ajax gave Hector dragged the Trojan +hero over the field at the wheels of the car of Achilles, and the sword +which Hector gave Ajax was that on whose point Ajax fell. They recorded +that when the Thasians erected a statue to Theagenes, a victor in the +games, one of his rivals went to it by night and endeavored to throw it +down by repeated blows, until at last he moved it from its pedestal and +was crushed to death beneath its fall. + +This voice of fable has in it somewhat divine. It came from thought +above the will of the writer. That is the best part of each writer +which has nothing private in it; that which he does not know; that which +flowed out of his constitution and not from his too active invention; +that which in the study of a single artist you might not easily find, +but in the study of many you would abstract as the spirit of them all. +Phidias it is not, but the work of man in that early Hellenic world that +I would know. The name and circumstance of Phidias, however convenient +for history, embarrass when we come to the highest criticism. We are +to see that which man was tending to do in a given period, and was +hindered, or, if you will, modified in doing, by the interfering +volitions of Phidias, of Dante, of Shakspeare, the organ whereby man at +the moment wrought. + +Still more striking is the expression of this fact in the proverbs +of all nations, which are always the literature of reason, or the +statements of an absolute truth without qualification. Proverbs, like +the sacred books of each nation, are the sanctuary of the intuitions. +That which the droning world, chained to appearances, will not allow the +realist to say in his own words, it will suffer him to say in proverbs +without contradiction. And this law of laws, which the pulpit, the +senate and the college deny, is hourly preached in all markets and +workshops by flights of proverbs, whose teaching is as true and as +omnipresent as that of birds and flies. + +All things are double, one against another.--Tit for tat; an eye for an +eye; a tooth for a tooth; blood for blood; measure for measure; love +for love.--Give and it shall be given you.--He that watereth shall be +watered himself.--What will you have? quoth God; pay for it and take +it.--Nothing venture, nothing have.--Thou shalt be paid exactly for +what thou hast done, no more, no less.--Who doth not work shall not +eat.--Harm watch, harm catch.--Curses always recoil on the head of him +who imprecates them.--If you put a chain around the neck of a slave, +the other end fastens itself around your own.--Bad counsel confounds the +adviser.--The Devil is an ass. + +It is thus written, because it is thus in life. Our action is +overmastered and characterized above our will by the law of nature. +We aim at a petty end quite aside from the public good, but our act +arranges itself by irresistible magnetism in a line with the poles of +the world. + +A man cannot speak but he judges himself. With his will or against his +will he draws his portrait to the eye of his companions by every word. +Every opinion reacts on him who utters it. It is a thread-ball thrown at +a mark, but the other end remains in the thrower's bag. Or rather it is +a harpoon hurled at the whale, unwinding, as it flies, a coil of cord in +the boat, and, if the harpoon is not good, or not well thrown, it will +go nigh to cut the steersman in twain or to sink the boat. + +You cannot do wrong without suffering wrong. "No man had ever a point +of pride that was not injurious to him," said Burke. The exclusive in +fashionable life does not see that he excludes himself from enjoyment, +in the attempt to appropriate it. The exclusionist in religion does not +see that he shuts the door of heaven on himself, in striving to shut out +others. Treat men as pawns and ninepins and you shall suffer as well as +they. If you leave out their heart, you shall lose your own. The senses +would make things of all persons; of women, of children, of the poor. +The vulgar proverb, "I will get it from his purse or get it from his +skin," is sound philosophy. + +All infractions of love and equity in our social relations are speedily +punished. They are punished by fear. Whilst I stand in simple relations +to my fellow-man, I have no displeasure in meeting him. We meet as water +meets water, or as two currents of air mix, with perfect diffusion and +interpenetration of nature. But as soon as there is any departure from +simplicity, and attempt at halfness, or good for me that is not good for +him, my neighbor feels the wrong; he shrinks from me as far as I have +shrunk from him; his eyes no longer seek mine; there is war between us; +there is hate in him and fear in me. + +All the old abuses in society, universal and particular, all unjust +accumulations of property and power, are avenged in the same manner. +Fear is an instructor of great sagacity and the herald of all +revolutions. One thing he teaches, that there is rottenness where he +appears. He is a carrion crow, and though you see not well what he +hovers for, there is death somewhere. Our property is timid, our laws +are timid, our cultivated classes are timid. Fear for ages has boded and +mowed and gibbered over government and property. That obscene bird is +not there for nothing. He indicates great wrongs which must be revised. + +Of the like nature is that expectation of change which instantly follows +the suspension of our voluntary activity. The terror of cloudless noon, +the emerald of Polycrates, the awe of prosperity, the instinct +which leads every generous soul to impose on itself tasks of a noble +asceticism and vicarious virtue, are the tremblings of the balance of +justice through the heart and mind of man. + +Experienced men of the world know very well that it is best to pay scot +and lot as they go along, and that a man often pays dear for a small +frugality. The borrower runs in his own debt. Has a man gained any thing +who has received a hundred favors and rendered none? Has he gained +by borrowing, through indolence or cunning, his neighbor's wares, or +horses, or money? There arises on the deed the instant acknowledgment +of benefit on the one part and of debt on the other; that is, of +superiority and inferiority. The transaction remains in the memory of +himself and his neighbor; and every new transaction alters according to +its nature their relation to each other. He may soon come to see that +he had better have broken his own bones than to have ridden in his +neighbor's coach, and that "the highest price he can pay for a thing is +to ask for it." + +A wise man will extend this lesson to all parts of life, and know that +it is the part of prudence to face every claimant and pay every just +demand on your time, your talents, or your heart. Always pay; for first +or last you must pay your entire debt. Persons and events may stand for +a time between you and justice, but it is only a postponement. You must +pay at last your own debt. If you are wise you will dread a prosperity +which only loads you with more. Benefit is the end of nature. But +for every benefit which you receive, a tax is levied. He is great who +confers the most benefits. He is base,--and that is the one base thing +in the universe,--to receive favors and render none. In the order of +nature we cannot render benefits to those from whom we receive them, or +only seldom. But the benefit we receive must be rendered again, line for +line, deed for deed, cent for cent, to somebody. Beware of too much good +staying in your hand. It will fast corrupt and worm worms. Pay it away +quickly in some sort. + +Labor is watched over by the same pitiless laws. Cheapest, say the +prudent, is the dearest labor. What we buy in a broom, a mat, a wagon, a +knife, is some application of good sense to a common want. It is best +to pay in your land a skilful gardener, or to buy good sense applied +to gardening; in your sailor, good sense applied to navigation; in the +house, good sense applied to cooking, sewing, serving; in your agent, +good sense applied to accounts and affairs. So do you multiply your +presence, or spread yourself throughout your estate. But because of +the dual constitution of things, in labor as in life there can be no +cheating. The thief steals from himself. The swindler swindles himself. +For the real price of labor is knowledge and virtue, whereof wealth and +credit are signs. These signs, like paper money, may be counterfeited +or stolen, but that which they represent, namely, knowledge and virtue, +cannot be counterfeited or stolen. These ends of labor cannot be +answered but by real exertions of the mind, and in obedience to pure +motives. The cheat, the defaulter, the gambler, cannot extort the +knowledge of material and moral nature which his honest care and pains +yield to the operative. The law of nature is, Do the thing, and you +shall have the Power; but they who do not the thing have not the power. + +Human labor, through all its forms, from the sharpening of a stake to +the construction of a city or an epic, is one immense illustration of +the perfect compensation of the universe. The absolute balance of Give +and Take, the doctrine that every thing has its price,--and if that +price is not paid, not that thing but something else is obtained, and +that it is impossible to get any thing without its price,--is not less +sublime in the columns of a leger than in the budgets of states, in the +laws of light and darkness, in all the action and reaction of nature. I +cannot doubt that the high laws which each man sees implicated in those +processes with which he is conversant, the stern ethics which sparkle +on his chisel-edge, which are measured out by his plumb and foot-rule, +which stand as manifest in the footing of the shop-bill as in the +history of a state,--do recommend to him his trade, and though seldom +named, exalt his business to his imagination. + +The league between virtue and nature engages all things to assume a +hostile front to vice. The beautiful laws and substances of the world +persecute and whip the traitor. He finds that things are arranged for +truth and benefit, but there is no den in the wide world to hide a +rogue. Commit a crime, and the earth is made of glass. Commit a crime, +and it seems as if a coat of snow fell on the ground, such as reveals +in the woods the track of every partridge and fox and squirrel and mole. +You cannot recall the spoken word, you cannot wipe out the foot-track, +you cannot draw up the ladder, so as to leave no inlet or clew. Some +damning circumstance always transpires. The laws and substances of +nature,--water, snow, wind, gravitation,--become penalties to the thief. + +On the other hand the law holds with equal sureness for all right +action. Love, and you shall be loved. All love is mathematically just, +as much as the two sides of an algebraic equation. The good man has +absolute good, which like fire turns every thing to its own nature, so +that you cannot do him any harm; but as the royal armies sent against +Napoleon, when he approached cast down their colors and from enemies +became friends, so disasters of all kinds, as sickness, offence, +poverty, prove benefactors:-- + + "Winds blow and waters roll + Strength to the brave, and power and deity, + Yet in themselves are nothing." + +The good are befriended even by weakness and defect. As no man had ever +a point of pride that was not injurious to him, so no man had ever a +defect that was not somewhere made useful to him. The stag in the fable +admired his horns and blamed his feet, but when the hunter came, +his feet saved him, and afterwards, caught in the thicket, his horns +destroyed him. Every man in his lifetime needs to thank his faults. As +no man thoroughly understands a truth until he has contended against it, +so no man has a thorough acquaintance with the hindrances or talents of +men until he has suffered from the one and seen the triumph of the other +over his own want of the same. Has he a defect of temper that unfits him +to live in society? Thereby he is driven to entertain himself alone and +acquire habits of self-help; and thus, like the wounded oyster, he mends +his shell with pearl. + +Our strength grows out of our weakness. The indignation which arms +itself with secret forces does not awaken until we are pricked and stung +and sorely assailed. A great man is always willing to be little. Whilst +he sits on the cushion of advantages, he goes to sleep. When he is +pushed, tormented, defeated, he has a chance to learn something; he has +been put on his wits, on his manhood; he has gained facts; learns his +ignorance; is cured of the insanity of conceit; has got moderation and +real skill. The wise man throws himself on the side of his assailants. +It is more his interest than it is theirs to find his weak point. The +wound cicatrizes and falls off from him like a dead skin and when they +would triumph, lo! he has passed on invulnerable. Blame is safer than +praise. I hate to be defended in a newspaper. As long as all that is +said is said against me, I feel a certain assurance of success. But as +soon as honeyed words of praise are spoken for me I feel as one that +lies unprotected before his enemies. In general, every evil to which we +do not succumb is a benefactor. As the Sandwich Islander believes that +the strength and valor of the enemy he kills passes into himself, so we +gain the strength of the temptation we resist. + +The same guards which protect us from disaster, defect, and enmity, +defend us, if we will, from selfishness and fraud. Bolts and bars are +not the best of our institutions, nor is shrewdness in trade a mark of +wisdom. Men suffer all their life long under the foolish superstition +that they can be cheated. But it is as impossible for a man to be +cheated by any one but himself, as for a thing to be and not to be at +the same time. There is a third silent party to all our bargains. The +nature and soul of things takes on itself the guaranty of the fulfilment +of every contract, so that honest service cannot come to loss. If you +serve an ungrateful master, serve him the more. Put God in your debt. +Every stroke shall be repaid. The longer The payment is withholden, the +better for you; for compound interest on compound interest is the rate +and usage of this exchequer. + +The history of persecution is a history of endeavors to cheat nature, to +make water run up hill, to twist a rope of sand. It makes no difference +whether the actors be many or one, a tyrant or a mob. A mob is a society +of bodies voluntarily bereaving themselves of reason and traversing its +work. The mob is man voluntarily descending to the nature of the beast. +Its fit hour of activity is night. Its actions are insane like its whole +constitution. It persecutes a principle; it would whip a right; it would +tar and feather justice, by inflicting fire and outrage upon the houses +and persons of those who have these. It resembles the prank of boys, +who run with fire-engines to put out the ruddy aurora streaming to the +stars. The inviolate spirit turns their spite against the wrongdoers. +The martyr cannot be dishonored. Every lash inflicted is a tongue of +fame; every prison, a more illustrious abode; every burned book or house +enlightens the world; every suppressed or expunged word reverberates +through the earth from side to side. Hours of sanity and consideration +are always arriving to communities, as to individuals, when the truth is +seen and the martyrs are justified. + +Thus do all things preach the indifferency of circumstances. The man is +all. Every thing has two sides, a good and an evil. Every advantage has +its tax. I learn to be content. But the doctrine of compensation is +not the doctrine of indifferency. The thoughtless say, on hearing these +representations,--What boots it to do well? there is one event to good +and evil; if I gain any good I must pay for it; if I lose any good I +gain some other; all actions are indifferent. + +There is a deeper fact in the soul than compensation, to wit, its own +nature. The soul is not a compensation, but a life. The soul is. Under +all this running sea of circumstance, whose waters ebb and flow with +perfect balance, lies the aboriginal abyss of real Being. Essence, +or God, is not a relation or a part, but the whole. Being is the vast +affirmative, excluding negation, self-balanced, and swallowing up all +relations, parts and times within itself. Nature, truth, virtue, are +the influx from thence. Vice is the absence or departure of the same. +Nothing, Falsehood, may indeed stand as the great Night or shade on +which as a background the living universe paints itself forth, but no +fact is begotten by it; it cannot work, for it is not. It cannot work +any good; it cannot work any harm. It is harm inasmuch as it is worse +not to be than to be. + +We feel defrauded of the retribution due to evil acts, because the +criminal adheres to his vice and contumacy and does not come to a crisis +or judgment anywhere in visible nature. There is no stunning confutation +of his nonsense before men and angels. Has he therefore outwitted the +law? Inasmuch as he carries the malignity and the lie with him he so far +deceases from nature. In some manner there will be a demonstration of +the wrong to the understanding also; but, should we not see it, this +deadly deduction makes square the eternal account. + +Neither can it be said, on the other hand, that the gain of rectitude +must be bought by any loss. There is no penalty to virtue; no penalty +to wisdom; they are proper additions of being. In a virtuous action I +properly am; in a virtuous act I add to the world; I plant into deserts +conquered from Chaos and Nothing and see the darkness receding on +the limits of the horizon. There can be no excess to love, none to +knowledge, none to beauty, when these attributes are considered in the +purest sense. The soul refuses limits, and always affirms an Optimism, +never a Pessimism. + +His life is a progress, and not a station. His instinct is trust. Our +instinct uses "more" and "less" in application to man, of the presence +of the soul, and not of its absence, the brave man is greater than the +coward; the true, the benevolent, the wise, is more a man and not less, +than the fool and knave. There is no tax on the good of virtue, for +that is the incoming of God himself, or absolute existence, without any +comparative. Material good has its tax, and if it came without desert or +sweat, has no root in me, and the next wind will blow it away. But all +the good of nature is the soul's, and may be had if paid for in nature's +lawful coin, that is, by labor which the heart and the head allow. I no +longer wish to meet a good I do not earn, for example to find a pot of +buried gold, knowing that it brings with it new burdens. I do not wish +more external goods,--neither possessions, nor honors, nor powers, nor +persons. The gain is apparent; the tax is certain. But there is no +tax on the knowledge that the compensation exists and that it is not +desirable to dig up treasure. Herein I rejoice with a serene eternal +peace. I contract the boundaries of possible mischief. I learn the +wisdom of St. Bernard,--"Nothing can work me damage except myself; the +harm that I sustain I carry about with me, and never am a real sufferer +but by my own fault." + +In the nature of the soul is the compensation for the inequalities of +condition. The radical tragedy of nature seems to be the distinction of +More and Less. How can Less not feel the pain; how not feel indignation +or malevolence towards More? Look at those who have less faculty, and +one feels sad and knows not well what to make of it. He almost shuns +their eye; he fears they will upbraid God. What should they do? It +seems a great injustice. But see the facts nearly and these mountainous +inequalities vanish. Love reduces them as the sun melts the iceberg in +the sea. The heart and soul of all men being one, this bitterness of His +and Mine ceases. His is mine. I am my brother and my brother is me. If I +feel overshadowed and outdone by great neighbors, I can yet love; I can +still receive; and he that loveth maketh his own the grandeur he loves. +Thereby I make the discovery that my brother is my guardian, acting for +me with the friendliest designs, and the estate I so admired and envied +is my own. It is the nature of the soul to appropriate all things. Jesus +and Shakspeare are fragments of the soul, and by love I conquer and +incorporate them in my own conscious domain. His virtue,--is not that +mine? His wit,--if it cannot be made mine, it is not wit. + +Such also is the natural history of calamity. The changes which break up +at short intervals the prosperity of men are advertisements of a nature +whose law is growth. Every soul is by this intrinsic necessity quitting +its whole system of things, its friends and home and laws and faith, as +the shell-fish crawls out of its beautiful but stony case, because it no +longer admits of its growth, and slowly forms a new house. In proportion +to the vigor of the individual these revolutions are frequent, until in +some happier mind they are incessant and all worldly relations hang +very loosely about him, becoming as it were a transparent fluid membrane +through which the living form is seen, and not, as in most men, +an indurated heterogeneous fabric of many dates and of no settled +character, in which the man is imprisoned. Then there can be +enlargement, and the man of to-day scarcely recognizes the man of +yesterday. And such should be the outward biography of man in time, a +putting off of dead circumstances day by day, as he renews his raiment +day by day. But to us, in our lapsed estate, resting, not advancing, +resisting, not cooperating with the divine expansion, this growth comes +by shocks. + +We cannot part with our friends. We cannot let our angels go. We do not +see that they only go out that archangels may come in. We are idolaters +of the old. We do not believe in the riches of the soul, in its proper +eternity and omnipresence. We do not believe there is any force in +to-day to rival or recreate that beautiful yesterday. We linger in the +ruins of the old tent where once we had bread and shelter and organs, +nor believe that the spirit can feed, cover, and nerve us again. We +cannot again find aught so dear, so sweet, so graceful. But we sit +and weep in vain. The voice of the Almighty saith, 'Up and onward for +evermore!' We cannot stay amid the ruins. Neither will we rely on the +new; and so we walk ever with reverted eyes, like those monsters who +look backwards. + +And yet the compensations of calamity are made apparent to the +understanding also, after long intervals of time. A fever, a mutilation, +a cruel disappointment, a loss of wealth, a loss of friends, seems at +the moment unpaid loss, and unpayable. But the sure years reveal the +deep remedial force that underlies all facts. The death of a dear +friend, wife, brother, lover, which seemed nothing but privation, +somewhat later assumes the aspect of a guide or genius; for it commonly +operates revolutions in our way of life, terminates an epoch of +infancy or of youth which was waiting to be closed, breaks up a wonted +occupation, or a household, or style of living, and allows the formation +of new ones more friendly to the growth of character. It permits or +constrains the formation of new acquaintances and the reception of new +influences that prove of the first importance to the next years; and the +man or woman who would have remained a sunny garden-flower, with no room +for its roots and too much sunshine for its head, by the falling of the +walls and the neglect of the gardener is made the banian of the forest, +yielding shade and fruit to wide neighborhoods of men. + +***** + + + + SPIRITUAL LAWS. + + The living Heaven thy prayers respect, + House at once and architect, + Quarrying man's rejected hours, + Builds therewith eternal towers; + Sole and self-commanded works, + Fears not undermining days, + Grows by decays, + And, by the famous might that lurks + In reaction and recoil, + Makes flame to freeze, and ice to boil; + Forging, through swart arms of Offence, + The silver seat of Innocence. + + + + +IV. SPIRITUAL LAWS. + +When the act of reflection takes place in the mind, when we look +at ourselves in the light of thought, we discover that our life is +embosomed in beauty. Behind us, as we go, all things assume pleasing +forms, as clouds do far off. Not only things familiar and stale, but +even the tragic and terrible are comely as they take their place in the +pictures of memory. The river-bank, the weed at the water-side, the +old house, the foolish person, however neglected in the passing, have +a grace in the past. Even the corpse that has lain in the chambers has +added a solemn ornament to the house. The soul will not know either +deformity or pain. If in the hours of clear reason we should speak the +severest truth, we should say that we had never made a sacrifice. In +these hours the mind seems so great that nothing can be taken from us +that seems much. All loss, all pain, is particular; the universe remains +to the heart unhurt. Neither vexations nor calamities abate our +trust. No man ever stated his griefs as lightly as he might. Allow for +exaggeration in the most patient and sorely ridden hack that ever was +driven. For it is only the finite that has wrought and suffered; the +infinite lies stretched in smiling repose. + +The intellectual life may be kept clean and healthful if man will live +the life of nature and not import into his mind difficulties which are +none of his. No man need be perplexed in his speculations. Let him do +and say what strictly belongs to him, and though very ignorant of books, +his nature shall not yield him any intellectual obstructions and doubts. +Our young people are diseased with the theological problems of original +sin, origin of evil, predestination and the like. These never presented +a practical difficulty to any man,--never darkened across any man's road +who did not go out of his way to seek them. These are the soul's mumps +and measles and whooping-coughs, and those who have not caught them +cannot describe their health or prescribe the cure. A simple mind will +not know these enemies. It is quite another thing that he should be able +to give account of his faith and expound to another the theory of his +self-union and freedom. This requires rare gifts. Yet without this +self-knowledge there may be a sylvan strength and integrity in that +which he is. "A few strong instincts and a few plain rules" suffice us. + +My will never gave the images in my mind the rank they now take. The +regular course of studies, the years of academical and professional +education have not yielded me better facts than some idle books under +the bench at the Latin School. What we do not call education is more +precious than that which we call so. We form no guess, at the time +of receiving a thought, of its comparative value. And education often +wastes its effort in attempts to thwart and balk this natural magnetism, +which is sure to select what belongs to it. + +In like manner our moral nature is vitiated by any interference of our +will. People represent virtue as a struggle, and take to themselves +great airs upon their attainments, and the question is everywhere vexed +when a noble nature is commended, whether the man is not better who +strives with temptation. But there is no merit in the matter. Either God +is there or he is not there. We love characters in proportion as they +are impulsive and spontaneous. The less a man thinks or knows about +his virtues the better we like him. Timoleon's victories are the best +victories, which ran and flowed like Homer's verses, Plutarch said. When +we see a soul whose acts are all regal, graceful and pleasant as roses, +we must thank God that such things can be and are, and not turn sourly +on the angel and say 'Crump is a better man with his grunting resistance +to all his native devils.' + +Not less conspicuous is the preponderance of nature over will in all +practical life. There is less intention in history than we ascribe to +it. We impute deep-laid far-sighted plans to Caesar and Napoleon; +but the best of their power was in nature, not in them. Men of an +extraordinary success, in their honest moments, have always sung, 'Not +unto us, not unto us.' According to the faith of their times they have +built altars to Fortune, or to Destiny, or to St. Julian. Their success +lay in their parallelism to the course of thought, which found in them +an unobstructed channel; and the wonders of which they were the visible +conductors seemed to the eye their deed. Did the wires generate the +galvanism? It is even true that there was less in them on which they +could reflect than in another; as the virtue of a pipe is to be smooth +and hollow. That which externally seemed will and immovableness was +willingness and self-annihilation. Could Shakspeare give a theory of +Shakspeare? Could ever a man of prodigious mathematical genius convey to +others any insight into his methods? If he could communicate that +secret it would instantly lose its exaggerated value, blending with the +daylight and the vital energy the power to stand and to go. + +The lesson is forcibly taught by these observations that our life might +be much easier and simpler than we make it; that the world might be +a happier place than it is; that there is no need of struggles, +convulsions, and despairs, of the wringing of the hands and the gnashing +of the teeth; that we miscreate our own evils. We interfere with the +optimism of nature; for whenever we get this vantage-ground of the past, +or of a wiser mind in the present, we are able to discern that we are +begirt with laws which execute themselves. + +The face of external nature teaches the same lesson. Nature will not +have us fret and fume. She does not like our benevolence or our learning +much better than she likes our frauds and wars. When we come out of +the caucus, or the bank, or the Abolition-convention, or the +Temperance-meeting, or the Transcendental club into the fields and +woods, she says to us, 'So hot? my little Sir.' + +We are full of mechanical actions. We must needs intermeddle and have +things in our own way, until the sacrifices and virtues of society +are odious. Love should make joy; but our benevolence is unhappy. Our +Sunday-schools and churches and pauper-societies are yokes to the neck. +We pain ourselves to please nobody. There are natural ways of arriving +at the same ends at which these aim, but do not arrive. Why should all +virtue work in one and the same way? Why should all give dollars? It is +very inconvenient to us country folk, and we do not think any good will +come of it. We have not dollars; merchants have; let them give them. +Farmers will give corn; poets will sing; women will sew; laborers will +lend a hand; the children will bring flowers. And why drag this dead +weight of a Sunday-school over the whole Christendom? It is natural and +beautiful that childhood should inquire and maturity should teach; but +it is time enough to answer questions when they are asked. Do not shut +up the young people against their will in a pew and force the children +to ask them questions for an hour against their will. + +If we look wider, things are all alike; laws and letters and creeds and +modes of living seem a travesty of truth. Our society is encumbered by +ponderous machinery, which resembles the endless aqueducts which +the Romans built over hill and dale and which are superseded by the +discovery of the law that water rises to the level of its source. It is +a Chinese wall which any nimble Tartar can leap over. It is a standing +army, not so good as a peace. It is a graduated, titled, richly +appointed empire, quite superfluous when town-meetings are found to +answer just as well. + +Let us draw a lesson from nature, which always works by short ways. +When the fruit is ripe, it falls. When the fruit is despatched, the leaf +falls. The circuit of the waters is mere falling. The walking of man +and all animals is a falling forward. All our manual labor and works of +strength, as prying, splitting, digging, rowing and so forth, are done +by dint of continual falling, and the globe, earth, moon, comet, sun, +star, fall for ever and ever. + +The simplicity of the universe is very different from the simplicity of +a machine. He who sees moral nature out and out and thoroughly knows how +knowledge is acquired and character formed, is a pedant. The simplicity +of nature is not that which may easily be read, but is inexhaustible. +The last analysis can no wise be made. We judge of a man's wisdom by his +hope, knowing that the perception of the inexhaustibleness of nature is +an immortal youth. The wild fertility of nature is felt in comparing our +rigid names and reputations with our fluid consciousness. We pass in the +world for sects and schools, for erudition and piety, and we are all the +time jejune babes. One sees very well how Pyrrhonism grew up. Every man +sees that he is that middle point whereof every thing may be affirmed +and denied with equal reason. He is old, he is young, he is very wise, +he is altogether ignorant. He hears and feels what you say of the +seraphim, and of the tin-peddler. There is no permanent wise man except +in the figment of the Stoics. We side with the hero, as we read or +paint, against the coward and the robber; but we have been ourselves +that coward and robber, and shall be again,--not in the low +circumstance, but in comparison with the grandeurs possible to the soul. + +A little consideration of what takes place around us every day would +show us that a higher law than that of our will regulates events; that +our painful labors are unnecessary and fruitless; that only in our easy, +simple, spontaneous action are we strong, and by contenting ourselves +with obedience we become divine. Belief and love,--a believing love will +relieve us of a vast load of care. O my brothers, God exists. There is +a soul at the centre of nature and over the will of every man, so +that none of us can wrong the universe. It has so infused its strong +enchantment into nature that we prosper when we accept its advice, +and when we struggle to wound its creatures our hands are glued to our +sides, or they beat our own breasts. The whole course of things goes to +teach us faith. We need only obey. There is guidance for each of us, and +by lowly listening we shall hear the right word. Why need you choose so +painfully your place and occupation and associates and modes of action +and of entertainment? Certainly there is a possible right for you that +precludes the need of balance and wilful election. For you there is a +reality, a fit place and congenial duties. Place yourself in the middle +of the stream of power and wisdom which animates all whom it floats, +and you are without effort impelled to truth, to right and a perfect +contentment. Then you put all gainsayers in the wrong. Then you are +the world, the measure of right, of truth, of beauty. If we will not +be mar-plots with our miserable interferences, the work, the society, +letters, arts, science, religion of men would go on far better than +now, and the heaven predicted from the beginning of the world, and still +predicted from the bottom of the heart, would organize itself, as do now +the rose and the air and the sun. + +I say, do not choose; but that is a figure of speech by which I would +distinguish what is commonly called choice among men, and which is a +partial act, the choice of the hands, of the eyes, of the appetites, and +not a whole act of the man. But that which I call right or goodness, +is the choice of my constitution; and that which I call heaven, and +inwardly aspire after, is the state or circumstance desirable to my +constitution; and the action which I in all my years tend to do, is the +work for my faculties. We must hold a man amenable to reason for the +choice of his daily craft or profession. It is not an excuse any longer +for his deeds that they are the custom of his trade. What business has +he with an evil trade? Has he not a calling in his character? + +Each man has his own vocation. The talent is the call. There is one +direction in which all space is open to him. He has faculties silently +inviting him thither to endless exertion. He is like a ship in a river; +he runs against obstructions on every side but one, on that side all +obstruction is taken away and he sweeps serenely over a deepening +channel into an infinite sea. This talent and this call depend on his +organization, or the mode in which the general soul incarnates itself in +him. He inclines to do something which is easy to him and good when it +is done, but which no other man can do. He has no rival. For the more +truly he consults his own powers, the more difference will his work +exhibit from the work of any other. His ambition is exactly proportioned +to his powers. The height of the pinnacle is determined by the breadth +of the base. Every man has this call of the power to do somewhat unique, +and no man has any other call. The pretence that he has another call, a +summons by name and personal election and outward "signs that mark him +extraordinary, and not in the roll of common men," is fanaticism, +and betrays obtuseness to perceive that there is one mind in all the +individuals, and no respect of persons therein. + +By doing his work he makes the need felt which he can supply, and +creates the taste by which he is enjoyed. By doing his own work he +unfolds himself. It is the vice of our public speaking that it has not +abandonment. Somewhere, not only every orator but every man should let +out all the length of all the reins; should find or make a frank and +hearty expression of what force and meaning is in him. The common +experience is that the man fits himself as well as he can to the +customary details of that work or trade he falls into, and tends it as a +dog turns a spit. Then is he a part of the machine he moves; the man is +lost. Until he can manage to communicate himself to others in his full +stature and proportion, he does not yet find his vocation. He must find +in that an outlet for his character, so that he may justify his work to +their eyes. If the labor is mean, let him by his thinking and character +make it liberal. Whatever he knows and thinks, whatever in his +apprehension is worth doing, that let him communicate, or men will never +know and honor him aright. Foolish, whenever you take the meanness +and formality of that thing you do, instead of converting it into the +obedient spiracle of your character and aims. + +We like only such actions as have already long had the praise of men, +and do not perceive that any thing man can do may be divinely done. +We think greatness entailed or organized in some places or duties, in +certain offices or occasions, and do not see that Paganini can +extract rapture from a catgut, and Eulenstein from a jews-harp, and +a nimble-fingered lad out of shreds of paper with his scissors, and +Landseer out of swine, and the hero out of the pitiful habitation and +company in which he was hidden. What we call obscure condition or vulgar +society is that condition and society whose poetry is not yet written, +but which you shall presently make as enviable and renowned as any. In +our estimates let us take a lesson from kings. The parts of hospitality, +the connection of families, the impressiveness of death, and a thousand +other things, royalty makes its own estimate of, and a royal mind will. +To make habitually a new estimate,--that is elevation. + +What a man does, that he has. What has he to do with hope or fear? In +himself is his might. Let him regard no good as solid but that which is +in his nature and which must grow out of him as long as he exists. The +goods of fortune may come and go like summer leaves; let him +scatter them on every wind as the momentary signs of his infinite +productiveness. + +He may have his own. A man's genius, the quality that differences him +from every other, the susceptibility to one class of influences, the +selection of what is fit for him, the rejection of what is unfit, +determines for him the character of the universe. A man is a method, a +progressive arrangement; a selecting principle, gathering his like to +him wherever he goes. He takes only his own out of the multiplicity that +sweeps and circles round him. He is like one of those booms which +are set out from the shore on rivers to catch drift-wood, or like the +loadstone amongst splinters of steel. Those facts, words, persons, which +dwell in his memory without his being able to say why, remain +because they have a relation to him not less real for being as yet +unapprehended. They are symbols of value to him as they can interpret +parts of his consciousness which he would vainly seek words for in the +conventional images of books and other minds. What attracts my attention +shall have it, as I will go to the man who knocks at my door, whilst +a thousand persons as worthy go by it, to whom I give no regard. It is +enough that these particulars speak to me. A few anecdotes, a few traits +of character, manners, face, a few incidents, have an emphasis in your +memory out of all proportion to their apparent significance if you +measure them by the ordinary standards. They relate to your gift. +Let them have their weight, and do not reject them and cast about for +illustration and facts more usual in literature. What your heart thinks +great is great. The soul's emphasis is always right. + +Over all things that are agreeable to his nature and genius the man has +the highest right. Everywhere he may take what belongs to his spiritual +estate, nor can he take any thing else though all doors were open, nor +can all the force of men hinder him from taking so much. It is vain to +attempt to keep a secret from one who has a right to know it. It will +tell itself. That mood into which a friend can bring us is his dominion +over us. To the thoughts of that state of mind he has a right. All +the secrets of that state of mind he can compel. This is a law which +statesmen use in practice. All the terrors of the French Republic, which +held Austria in awe, were unable to command her diplomacy. But Napoleon +sent to Vienna M. de Narbonne, one of the old noblesse, with the morals, +manners and name of that interest, saying that it was indispensable to +send to the old aristocracy of Europe men of the same connection, which, +in fact, constitutes a sort of free-masonry. M. de Narbonne in less than +a fortnight penetrated all the secrets of the imperial cabinet. + +Nothing seems so easy as to speak and to be understood. Yet a man may +come to find that the strongest of defences and of ties,--that he has +been understood; and he who has received an opinion may come to find it +the most inconvenient of bonds. + +If a teacher have any opinion which he wishes to conceal, his pupils +will become as fully indoctrinated into that as into any which he +publishes. If you pour water into a vessel twisted into coils and +angles, it is vain to say, I will pour it only into this or that;--it +will find its level in all. Men feel and act the consequences of your +doctrine without being able to show how they follow. Show us an arc of +the curve, and a good mathematician will find out the whole figure. +We are always reasoning from the seen to the unseen. Hence the perfect +intelligence that subsists between wise men of remote ages. A man cannot +bury his meanings so deep in his book but time and like-minded men +will find them. Plato had a secret doctrine, had he? What secret can +he conceal from the eyes of Bacon? of Montaigne? of Kant? Therefore, +Aristotle said of his works, "They are published and not published." + +No man can learn what he has not preparation for learning, however near +to his eyes is the object. A chemist may tell his most precious secrets +to a carpenter, and he shall be never the wiser,--the secrets he would +not utter to a chemist for an estate. God screens us evermore from +premature ideas. Our eyes are holden that we cannot see things that +stare us in the face, until the hour arrives when the mind is ripened; +then we behold them, and the time when we saw them not is like a dream. + +Not in nature but in man is all the beauty and worth he sees. The world +is very empty, and is indebted to this gilding, exalting soul for all +its pride. "Earth fills her lap with splendors" not her own. The vale of +Tempe, Tivoli and Rome are earth and water, rocks and sky. There are as +good earth and water in a thousand places, yet how unaffecting! + +People are not the better for the sun and moon, the horizon and the +trees; as it is not observed that the keepers of Roman galleries or the +valets of painters have any elevation of thought, or that librarians are +wiser men than others. There are graces in the demeanor of a polished +and noble person which are lost upon the eye of a churl. These are like +the stars whose light has not yet reached us. + +He may see what he maketh. Our dreams are the sequel of our waking +knowledge. The visions of the night bear some proportion to the visions +of the day. Hideous dreams are exaggerations of the sins of the day. We +see our evil affections embodied in bad physiognomies. On the Alps the +traveller sometimes beholds his own shadow magnified to a giant, so that +every gesture of his hand is terrific. "My children," said an old man +to his boys scared by a figure in the dark entry, "my children, you +will never see any thing worse than yourselves." As in dreams, so in +the scarcely less fluid events of the world every man sees himself in +colossal, without knowing that it is himself. The good, compared to the +evil which he sees, is as his own good to his own evil. Every quality of +his mind is magnified in some one acquaintance, and every emotion of +his heart in some one. He is like a quincunx of trees, which counts +five,--east, west, north, or south; or an initial, medial, and terminal +acrostic. And why not? He cleaves to one person and avoids another, +according to their likeness or unlikeness to himself, truly seeking +himself in his associates and moreover in his trade and habits and +gestures and meats and drinks, and comes at last to be faithfully +represented by every view you take of his circumstances. + +He may read what he writes. What can we see or acquire but what we are? +You have observed a skilful man reading Virgil. Well, that author is a +thousand books to a thousand persons. Take the book into your two +hands and read your eyes out, you will never find what I find. If any +ingenious reader would have a monopoly of the wisdom or delight he gets, +he is as secure now the book is Englished, as if it were imprisoned in +the Pelews' tongue. It is with a good book as it is with good company. +Introduce a base person among gentlemen, it is all to no purpose; he +is not their fellow. Every society protects itself. The company is +perfectly safe, and he is not one of them, though his body is in the +room. + +What avails it to fight with the eternal laws of mind, which adjust the +relation of all persons to each other by the mathematical measure of +their havings and beings? Gertrude is enamored of Guy; how high, how +aristocratic, how Roman his mien and manners! to live with him were life +indeed, and no purchase is too great; and heaven and earth are moved +to that end. Well, Gertrude has Guy; but what now avails how high, how +aristocratic, how Roman his mien and manners, if his heart and aims are +in the senate, in the theatre and in the billiard-room, and she has no +aims, no conversation that can enchant her graceful lord? + +He shall have his own society. We can love nothing but nature. The most +wonderful talents, the most meritorious exertions really avail very +little with us; but nearness or likeness of nature,--how beautiful is +the ease of its victory! Persons approach us, famous for their beauty, +for their accomplishments, worthy of all wonder for their charms +and gifts; they dedicate their whole skill to the hour and the +company,--with very imperfect result. To be sure it would be ungrateful +in us not to praise them loudly. Then, when all is done, a person of +related mind, a brother or sister by nature, comes to us so softly and +easily, so nearly and intimately, as if it were the blood in our proper +veins, that we feel as if some one was gone, instead of another having +come; we are utterly relieved and refreshed; it is a sort of joyful +solitude. We foolishly think in our days of sin that we must court +friends by compliance to the customs of society, to its dress, its +breeding, and its estimates. But only that soul can be my friend which +I encounter on the line of my own march, that soul to which I do not +decline and which does not decline to me, but, native of the same +celestial latitude, repeats in its own all my experience. The scholar +forgets himself and apes the customs and costumes of the man of the +world to deserve the smile of beauty, and follows some giddy girl, not +yet taught by religious passion to know the noble woman with all that is +serene, oracular and beautiful in her soul. Let him be great, and love +shall follow him. Nothing is more deeply punished than the neglect of +the affinities by which alone society should be formed, and the insane +levity of choosing associates by others' eyes. + +He may set his own rate. It is a maxim worthy of all acceptation that a +man may have that allowance he takes. Take the place and attitude which +belong to you, and all men acquiesce. The world must be just. It +leaves every man, with profound unconcern, to set his own rate. Hero or +driveller, it meddles not in the matter. It will certainly accept your +own measure of your doing and being, whether you sneak about and deny +your own name, or whether you see your work produced to the concave +sphere of the heavens, one with the revolution of the stars. + +The same reality pervades all teaching. The man may teach by doing, and +not otherwise. If he can communicate himself he can teach, but not by +words. He teaches who gives, and he learns who receives. There is no +teaching until the pupil is brought into the same state or principle in +which you are; a transfusion takes place; he is you and you are he; then +is a teaching, and by no unfriendly chance or bad company can he ever +quite lose the benefit. But your propositions run out of one ear as they +ran in at the other. We see it advertised that Mr. Grand will deliver +an oration on the Fourth of July, and Mr. Hand before the Mechanics' +Association, and we do not go thither, because we know that these +gentlemen will not communicate their own character and experience to +the company. If we had reason to expect such a confidence we should go +through all inconvenience and opposition. The sick would be carried +in litters. But a public oration is an escapade, a non-committal, an +apology, a gag, and not a communication, not a speech, not a man. + +A like Nemesis presides over all intellectual works. We have yet to +learn that the thing uttered in words is not therefore affirmed. It must +affirm itself, or no forms of logic or of oath can give it evidence. The +sentence must also contain its own apology for being spoken. + +The effect of any writing on the public mind is mathematically +measurable by its depth of thought. How much water does it draw? If it +awaken you to think, if it lift you from your feet with the great voice +of eloquence, then the effect is to be wide, slow, permanent, over the +minds of men; if the pages instruct you not, they will die like flies in +the hour. The way to speak and write what shall not go out of fashion is +to speak and write sincerely. The argument which has not power to reach +my own practice, I may well doubt will fail to reach yours. But take +Sidney's maxim:--"Look in thy heart, and write." He that writes to +himself writes to an eternal public. That statement only is fit to be +made public which you have come at in attempting to satisfy your own +curiosity. The writer who takes his subject from his ear and not from +his heart, should know that he has lost as much as he seems to have +gained, and when the empty book has gathered all its praise, and half +the people say, 'What poetry! what genius!' it still needs fuel to make +fire. That only profits which is profitable. Life alone can impart life; +and though we should burst we can only be valued as we make ourselves +valuable. There is no luck in literary reputation. They who make up the +final verdict upon every book are not the partial and noisy readers of +the hour when it appears, but a court as of angels, a public not to be +bribed, not to be entreated and not to be overawed, decides upon every +man's title to fame. Only those books come down which deserve to last. +Gilt edges, vellum and morocco, and presentation-copies to all the +libraries will not preserve a book in circulation beyond its intrinsic +date. It must go with all Walpole's Noble and Royal Authors to its fate. +Blackmore, Kotzebue, or Pollok may endure for a night, but Moses and +Homer stand for ever. There are not in the world at any one time more +than a dozen persons who read and understand Plato,--never enough to +pay for an edition of his works; yet to every generation these come duly +down, for the sake of those few persons, as if God brought them in +his hand. "No book," said Bentley, "was ever written down by any but +itself." The permanence of all books is fixed by no effort, friendly or +hostile, but by their own specific gravity, or the intrinsic importance +of their contents to the constant mind of man. "Do not trouble yourself +too much about the light on your statue," said Michael Angelo to the +young sculptor; "the light of the public square will test its value." + +In like manner the effect of every action is measured by the depth of +the sentiment from which it proceeds. The great man knew not that he was +great. It took a century or two for that fact to appear. What he did, +he did because he must; it was the most natural thing in the world, and +grew out of the circumstances of the moment. But now, every thing he +did, even to the lifting of his finger or the eating of bread, looks +large, all-related, and is called an institution. + +These are the demonstrations in a few particulars of the genius of +nature; they show the direction of the stream. But the stream is blood; +every drop is alive. Truth has not single victories; all things are +its organs,--not only dust and stones, but errors and lies. The laws +of disease, physicians say, are as beautiful as the laws of health. Our +philosophy is affirmative and readily accepts the testimony of negative +facts, as every shadow points to the sun. By a divine necessity every +fact in nature is constrained to offer its testimony. + +Human character evermore publishes itself. The most fugitive deed and +word, the mere air of doing a thing, the intimated purpose, expresses +character. If you act you show character; if you sit still, if you +sleep, you show it. You think because you have spoken nothing when +others spoke, and have given no opinion on the times, on the church, on +slavery, on marriage, on socialism, on secret societies, on the college, +on parties and persons, that your verdict is still expected with +curiosity as a reserved wisdom. Far otherwise; your silence answers very +loud. You have no oracle to utter, and your fellow-men have learned +that you cannot help them; for oracles speak. Doth not Wisdom cry and +Understanding put forth her voice? + +Dreadful limits are set in nature to the powers of dissimulation. Truth +tyrannizes over the unwilling members of the body. Faces never lie, +it is said. No man need be deceived who will study the changes of +expression. When a man speaks the truth in the spirit of truth, his eye +is as clear as the heavens. When he has base ends and speaks falsely, +the eye is muddy and sometimes asquint. + +I have heard an experienced counsellor say that he never feared the +effect upon a jury of a lawyer who does not believe in his heart that +his client ought to have a verdict. If he does not believe it his +unbelief will appear to the jury, despite all his protestations, and +will become their unbelief. This is that law whereby a work of art, of +whatever kind, sets us in the same state of mind wherein the artist was +when he made it. That which we do not believe we cannot adequately say, +though we may repeat the words never so often. It was this conviction +which Swedenborg expressed when he described a group of persons in the +spiritual world endeavoring in vain to articulate a proposition which +they did not believe; but they could not, though they twisted and folded +their lips even to indignation. + +A man passes for that he is worth. Very idle is all curiosity concerning +other people's estimate of us, and all fear of remaining unknown is +not less so. If a man know that he can do any thing,--that he can do it +better than any one else,--he has a pledge of the acknowledgment of that +fact by all persons. The world is full of judgment-days, and into every +assembly that a man enters, in every action he attempts, he is gauged +and stamped. In every troop of boys that whoop and run in each yard and +square, a new-comer is as well and accurately weighed in the course of +a few days and stamped with his right number, as if he had undergone a +formal trial of his strength, speed and temper. A stranger comes from +a distant school, with better dress, with trinkets in his pockets, with +airs and pretensions; an older boy says to himself, 'It's of no use; +we shall find him out to-morrow.' 'What has he done?' is the divine +question which searches men and transpierces every false reputation. A +fop may sit in any chair of the world nor be distinguished for his hour +from Homer and Washington; but there need never be any doubt concerning +the respective ability of human beings. Pretension may sit still, +but cannot act. Pretension never feigned an act of real greatness. +Pretension never wrote an Iliad, nor drove back Xerxes, nor +christianized the world, nor abolished slavery. + +As much virtue as there is, so much appears; as much goodness as there +is, so much reverence it commands. All the devils respect virtue. The +high, the generous, the self-devoted sect will always instruct and +command mankind. Never was a sincere word utterly lost. Never a +magnanimity fell to the ground, but there is some heart to greet and +accept it unexpectedly. A man passes for that he is worth. What he is +engraves itself on his face, on his form, on his fortunes, in letters +of light. Concealment avails him nothing, boasting nothing. There is +confession in the glances of our eyes, in our smiles, in salutations, +and the grasp of hands. His sin bedaubs him, mars all his good +impression. Men know not why they do not trust him, but they do not +trust him. His vice glasses his eye, cuts lines of mean expression in +his cheek, pinches the nose, sets the mark of the beast on the back of +the head, and writes O fool! fool! on the forehead of a king. + +If you would not be known to do any thing, never do it. A man may play +the fool in the drifts of a desert, but every grain of sand shall seem +to see. He may be a solitary eater, but he cannot keep his foolish +counsel. A broken complexion, a swinish look, ungenerous acts and the +want of due knowledge,--all blab. Can a cook, a Chiffinch, an Iachimo +be mistaken for Zeno or Paul? Confucius exclaimed,--"How can a man be +concealed? How can a man be concealed?" + +On the other hand, the hero fears not that if he withhold the avowal +of a just and brave act it will go unwitnessed and unloved. One knows +it,--himself,--and is pledged by it to sweetness of peace and to +nobleness of aim which will prove in the end a better proclamation of it +than the relating of the incident. Virtue is the adherence in action to +the nature of things, and the nature of things makes it prevalent. It +consists in a perpetual substitution of being for seeming, and with +sublime propriety God is described as saying, I AM. + +The lesson which these observations convey is, Be, and not seem. Let us +acquiesce. Let us take our bloated nothingness out of the path of the +divine circuits. Let us unlearn our wisdom of the world. Let us lie low +in the Lord's power and learn that truth alone makes rich and great. + +If you visit your friend, why need you apologize for not having visited +him, and waste his time and deface your own act? Visit him now. Let +him feel that the highest love has come to see him, in thee its +lowest organ. Or why need you torment yourself and friend by secret +self-reproaches that you have not assisted him or complimented him with +gifts and salutations heretofore? Be a gift and a benediction. Shine +with real light and not with the borrowed reflection of gifts. Common +men are apologies for men; they bow the head, excuse themselves with +prolix reasons, and accumulate appearances because the substance is not. + +We are full of these superstitions of sense, the worship of magnitude. +We call the poet inactive, because he is not a president, a merchant, or +a porter. We adore an institution, and do not see that it is founded +on a thought which we have. But real action is in silent moments. The +epochs of our life are not in the visible facts of our choice of a +calling, our marriage, our acquisition of an office, and the like, +but in a silent thought by the way-side as we walk; in a thought which +revises our entire manner of life and says,--'Thus hast thou done, but +it were better thus.' And all our after years, like menials, serve and +wait on this, and according to their ability execute its will. This +revisal or correction is a constant force, which, as a tendency, reaches +through our lifetime. The object of the man, the aim of these moments, +is to make daylight shine through him, to suffer the law to traverse +his whole being without obstruction, so that on what point soever of his +doing your eye falls it shall report truly of his character, whether it +be his diet, his house, his religious forms, his society, his mirth, his +vote, his opposition. Now he is not homogeneous, but heterogeneous, and +the ray does not traverse; there are no thorough lights, but the eye of +the beholder is puzzled, detecting many unlike tendencies and a life not +yet at one. + +Why should we make it a point with our false modesty to disparage +that man we are and that form of being assigned to us? A good man +is contented. I love and honor Epaminondas, but I do not wish to be +Epaminondas. I hold it more just to love the world of this hour than +the world of his hour. Nor can you, if I am true, excite me to the least +uneasiness by saying, 'He acted and thou sittest still.' I see action +to be good, when the need is, and sitting still to be also good. +Epaminondas, if he was the man I take him for, would have sat still with +joy and peace, if his lot had been mine. Heaven is large, and affords +space for all modes of love and fortitude. Why should we be busybodies +and superserviceable? Action and inaction are alike to the true. One +piece of the tree is cut for a weathercock and one for the sleeper of a +bridge; the virtue of the wood is apparent in both. + +I desire not to disgrace the soul. The fact that I am here certainly +shows me that the soul had need of an organ here. Shall I not assume the +post? Shall I skulk and dodge and duck with my unseasonable apologies +and vain modesty and imagine my being here impertinent? less pertinent +than Epaminondas or Homer being there? and that the soul did not know +its own needs? Besides, without any reasoning on the matter, I have +no discontent. The good soul nourishes me and unlocks new magazines +of power and enjoyment to me every day. I will not meanly decline the +immensity of good, because I have heard that it has come to others in +another shape. + +Besides, why should we be cowed by the name of Action? 'Tis a trick of +the senses,--no more. We know that the ancestor of every action is a +thought. The poor mind does not seem to itself to be any thing unless it +have an outside badge,--some Gentoo diet, or Quaker coat, or Calvinistic +prayer-meeting, or philanthropic society, or a great donation, or a high +office, or, any how, some wild contrasting action to testify that it is +somewhat. The rich mind lies in the sun and sleeps, and is Nature. To +think is to act. + +Let us, if we must have great actions, make our own so. All action is of +an infinite elasticity, and the least admits of being inflated with the +celestial air until it eclipses the sun and moon. Let us seek one peace +by fidelity. Let me heed my duties. Why need I go gadding into the +scenes and philosophy of Greek and Italian history before I have +justified myself to my benefactors? How dare I read Washington's +campaigns when I have not answered the letters of my own correspondents? +Is not that a just objection to much of our reading? It is a +pusillanimous desertion of our work to gaze after our neighbors. It is +peeping. Byron says of Jack Bunting,-- + + "He knew not what to say, and so he swore." + +I may say it of our preposterous use of books,--He knew not what to do, +and so he read. I can think of nothing to fill my time with, and I find +the Life of Brant. It is a very extravagant compliment to pay to Brant, +or to General Schuyler, or to General Washington. My time should be as +good as their time,--my facts, my net of relations, as good as theirs, +or either of theirs. Rather let me do my work so well that other idlers +if they choose may compare my texture with the texture of these and find +it identical with the best. + +This over-estimate of the possibilities of Paul and Pericles, this +under-estimate of our own, comes from a neglect of the fact of an +identical nature. Bonaparte knew but one merit, and rewarded in one and +the same way the good soldier, the good astronomer, the good poet, +the good player. The poet uses the names of Caesar, of Tamerlane, of +Bonduca, of Belisarius; the painter uses the conventional story of +the Virgin Mary, of Paul, of Peter. He does not therefore defer to the +nature of these accidental men, of these stock heroes. If the poet write +a true drama, then he is Caesar, and not the player of Caesar; then the +selfsame strain of thought, emotion as pure, wit as subtle, motions +as swift, mounting, extravagant, and a heart as great, self-sufficing, +dauntless, which on the waves of its love and hope can uplift all that +is reckoned solid and precious in the world,--palaces, gardens, money, +navies, kingdoms,--marking its own incomparable worth by the slight it +casts on these gauds of men;--these all are his, and by the power of +these he rouses the nations. Let a man believe in God, and not in names +and places and persons. Let the great soul incarnated in some woman's +form, poor and sad and single, in some Dolly or Joan, go out to service, +and sweep chambers and scour floors, and its effulgent daybeams cannot +be muffled or hid, but to sweep and scour will instantly appear supreme +and beautiful actions, the top and radiance of human life, and all +people will get mops and brooms; until, lo! suddenly the great soul has +enshrined itself in some other form and done some other deed, and that +is now the flower and head of all living nature. + +We are the photometers, we the irritable goldleaf and tinfoil that +measure the accumulations of the subtle element. We know the authentic +effects of the true fire through every one of its million disguises. + +***** + + + + LOVE. + + "I was as a gem concealed; + Me my burning ray revealed." + Koran. + + + + +V. LOVE. + +Every promise of the soul has innumerable fulfilments; each of its joys +ripens into a new want. Nature, uncontainable, flowing, forelooking, in +the first sentiment of kindness anticipates already a benevolence which +shall lose all particular regards in its general light. The introduction +to this felicity is in a private and tender relation of one to one, +which is the enchantment of human life; which, like a certain divine +rage and enthusiasm, seizes on man at one period and works a revolution +in his mind and body; unites him to his race, pledges him to the +domestic and civic relations, carries him with new sympathy into nature, +enhances the power of the senses, opens the imagination, adds to his +character heroic and sacred attributes, establishes marriage, and gives +permanence to human society. + +The natural association of the sentiment of love with the heyday of the +blood seems to require that in order to portray it in vivid tints, +which every youth and maid should confess to be true to their throbbing +experience, one must not be too old. The delicious fancies of youth +reject the least savor of a mature philosophy, as chilling with age and +pedantry their purple bloom. And therefore I know I incur the imputation +of unnecessary hardness and stoicism from those who compose the Court +and Parliament of Love. But from these formidable censors I shall appeal +to my seniors. For it is to be considered that this passion of which +we speak, though it begin with the young, yet forsakes not the old, or +rather suffers no one who is truly its servant to grow old, but makes +the aged participators of it not less than the tender maiden, though in +a different and nobler sort. For it is a fire that kindling its first +embers in the narrow nook of a private bosom, caught from a wandering +spark out of another private heart, glows and enlarges until it warms +and beams upon multitudes of men and women, upon the universal heart of +all, and so lights up the whole world and all nature with its generous +flames. It matters not therefore whether we attempt to describe the +passion at twenty, at thirty, or at eighty years. He who paints it at +the first period will lose some of its later, he who paints it at +the last, some of its earlier traits. Only it is to be hoped that by +patience and the Muses' aid we may attain to that inward view of the law +which shall describe a truth ever young and beautiful, so central that +it shall commend itself to the eye, at whatever angle beholden. + +And the first condition is, that we must leave a too close and lingering +adherence to facts, and study the sentiment as it appeared in hope and +not in history. For each man sees his own life defaced and disfigured, +as the life of man is not, to his imagination. Each man sees over his +own experience a certain stain of error, whilst that of other men looks +fair and ideal. Let any man go back to those delicious relations which +make the beauty of his life, which have given him sincerest instruction +and nourishment, he will shrink and moan. Alas! I know not why, but +infinite compunctions embitter in mature life the remembrances of +budding joy and cover every beloved name. Every thing is beautiful seen +from the point of the intellect, or as truth. But all is sour, if seen +as experience. Details are melancholy; the plan is seemly and noble. In +the actual world--the painful kingdom of time and place--dwell care, and +canker, and fear. With thought, with the ideal, is immortal hilarity, +the rose of joy. Round it all the Muses sing. But grief cleaves to +names, and persons, and the partial interests of to-day and yesterday. + +The strong bent of nature is seen in the proportion which this topic +of personal relations usurps in the conversation of society. What do +we wish to know of any worthy person so much, as how he has sped in +the history of this sentiment? What books in the circulating libraries +circulate? How we glow over these novels of passion, when the story is +told with any spark of truth and nature! And what fastens attention, in +the intercourse of life, like any passage betraying affection between +two parties? Perhaps we never saw them before, and never shall meet them +again. But we see them exchange a glance, or betray a deep emotion, and +we are no longer strangers. We understand them, and take the warmest +interest in the development of the romance. All mankind love a lover. +The earliest demonstrations of complacency and kindness are nature's +most winning pictures. It is the dawn of civility and grace in the +coarse and rustic. The rude village boy teases the girls about the +school-house door;--but to-day he comes running into the entry, and +meets one fair child disposing her satchel; he holds her books to help +her, and instantly it seems to him as if she removed herself from him +infinitely, and was a sacred precinct. Among the throng of girls he +runs rudely enough, but one alone distances him; and these two little +neighbors, that were so close just now, have learned to respect each +other's personality. Or who can avert his eyes from the engaging, +half-artful, half-artless ways of school-girls who go into the country +shops to buy a skein of silk or a sheet of paper, and talk half an +hour about nothing with the broad-faced, good-natured shop-boy. In the +village they are on a perfect equality, which love delights in, and +without any coquetry the happy, affectionate nature of woman flows out +in this pretty gossip. The girls may have little beauty, yet plainly +do they establish between them and the good boy the most agreeable, +confiding relations, what with their fun and their earnest, about Edgar +and Jonas and Almira, and who was invited to the party, and who danced +at the dancing-school, and when the singing-school would begin, and +other nothings concerning which the parties cooed. By and by that boy +wants a wife, and very truly and heartily will he know where to find +a sincere and sweet mate, without any risk such as Milton deplores as +incident to scholars and great men. + +I have been told that in some public discourses of mine my reverence for +the intellect has made me unjustly cold to the personal relations. But +now I almost shrink at the remembrance of such disparaging words. For +persons are love's world, and the coldest philosopher cannot recount the +debt of the young soul wandering here in nature to the power of +love, without being tempted to unsay, as treasonable to nature, aught +derogatory to the social instincts. For though the celestial rapture +falling out of heaven seizes only upon those of tender age, and although +a beauty overpowering all analysis or comparison and putting us +quite beside ourselves we can seldom see after thirty years, yet the +remembrance of these visions outlasts all other remembrances, and is a +wreath of flowers on the oldest brows. But here is a strange fact; it +may seem to many men, in revising their experience, that they have +no fairer page in their life's book than the delicious memory of some +passages wherein affection contrived to give a witchcraft, surpassing +the deep attraction of its own truth, to a parcel of accidental and +trivial circumstances. In looking backward they may find that several +things which were not the charm have more reality to this groping memory +than the charm itself which embalmed them. But be our experience in +particulars what it may, no man ever forgot the visitations of that +power to his heart and brain, which created all things anew; which was +the dawn in him of music, poetry, and art; which made the face of +nature radiant with purple light, the morning and the night varied +enchantments; when a single tone of one voice could make the heart +bound, and the most trivial circumstance associated with one form is put +in the amber of memory; when he became all eye when one was present, +and all memory when one was gone; when the youth becomes a watcher of +windows and studious of a glove, a veil, a ribbon, or the wheels of a +carriage; when no place is too solitary and none too silent, for him who +has richer company and sweeter conversation in his new thoughts than any +old friends, though best and purest, can give him; for the figures, +the motions, the words of the beloved object are not like other images +written in water, but, as Plutarch said, "enamelled in fire," and make +the study of midnight:-- + + "Thou art not gone being gone, where'er thou art, + Thou leav'st in him thy watchful eyes, in him thy + loving heart." + +In the noon and the afternoon of life we still throb at the recollection +of days when happiness was not happy enough, but must be drugged with +the relish of pain and fear; for he touched the secret of the matter who +said of love,-- + + "All other pleasures are not worth its pains:" + +and when the day was not long enough, but the night too must be consumed +in keen recollections; when the head boiled all night on the pillow +with the generous deed it resolved on; when the moonlight was a pleasing +fever and the stars were letters and the flowers ciphers and the air was +coined into song; when all business seemed an impertinence, and all the +men and women running to and fro in the streets, mere pictures. + +The passion rebuilds the world for the youth. It makes all things alive +and significant. Nature grows conscious. Every bird on the boughs of the +tree sings now to his heart and soul. The notes are almost articulate. +The clouds have faces as he looks on them. The trees of the forest, +the waving grass and the peeping flowers have grown intelligent; and he +almost fears to trust them with the secret which they seem to invite. +Yet nature soothes and sympathizes. In the green solitude he finds a +dearer home than with men:-- + + "Fountain-heads and pathless groves, + Places which pale passion loves, + Moonlight walks, when all the fowls + Are safely housed, save bats and owls, + A midnight bell, a passing groan,-- + These are the sounds we feed upon." + +Behold there in the wood the fine madman! He is a palace of sweet sounds +and sights; he dilates; he is twice a man; he walks with arms akimbo; he +soliloquizes; he accosts the grass and the trees; he feels the blood of +the violet, the clover and the lily in his veins; and he talks with the +brook that wets his foot. + +The heats that have opened his perceptions of natural beauty have made +him love music and verse. It is a fact often observed, that men have +written good verses under the inspiration of passion, who cannot write +well under any other circumstances. + +The like force has the passion over all his nature. It expands the +sentiment; it makes the clown gentle and gives the coward heart. Into +the most pitiful and abject it will infuse a heart and courage to defy +the world, so only it have the countenance of the beloved object. In +giving him to another it still more gives him to himself. He is a new +man, with new perceptions, new and keener purposes, and a religious +solemnity of character and aims. He does not longer appertain to his +family and society; he is somewhat; he is a person; he is a soul. + +And here let us examine a little nearer the nature of that influence +which is thus potent over the human youth. Beauty, whose revelation to +man we now celebrate, welcome as the sun wherever it pleases to shine, +which pleases everybody with it and with themselves, seems sufficient +to itself. The lover cannot paint his maiden to his fancy poor and +solitary. Like a tree in flower, so much soft, budding, informing +loveliness is society for itself; and she teaches his eye why Beauty was +pictured with Loves and Graces attending her steps. Her existence makes +the world rich. Though she extrudes all other persons from his attention +as cheap and unworthy, she indemnifies him by carrying out her own being +into somewhat impersonal, large, mundane, so that the maiden stands +to him for a representative of all select things and virtues. For that +reason the lover never sees personal resemblances in his mistress to her +kindred or to others. His friends find in her a likeness to her mother, +or her sisters, or to persons not of her blood. The lover sees no +resemblance except to summer evenings and diamond mornings, to rainbows +and the song of birds. + +The ancients called beauty the flowering of virtue. Who can analyze the +nameless charm which glances from one and another face and form? We are +touched with emotions of tenderness and complacency, but we cannot +find whereat this dainty emotion, this wandering gleam, points. It +is destroyed for the imagination by any attempt to refer it to +organization. Nor does it point to any relations of friendship or love +known and described in society, but, as it seems to me, to a quite +other and unattainable sphere, to relations of transcendent delicacy +and sweetness, to what roses and violets hint and foreshow. We cannot +approach beauty. Its nature is like opaline doves'-neck lustres, +hovering and evanescent. Herein it resembles the most excellent +things, which all have this rainbow character, defying all attempts at +appropriation and use. What else did Jean Paul Richter signify, when he +said to music, "Away! away! thou speakest to me of things which in all +my endless life I have not found, and shall not find." The same fluency +may be observed in every work of the plastic arts. The statue is then +beautiful when it begins to be incomprehensible, when it is passing out +of criticism and can no longer be defined by compass and measuring-wand, +but demands an active imagination to go with it and to say what it is in +the act of doing. The god or hero of the sculptor is always represented +in a transition from that which is representable to the senses, to that +which is not. Then first it ceases to be a stone. The same remark holds +of painting. And of poetry the success is not attained when it lulls and +satisfies, but when it astonishes and fires us with new endeavors after +the unattainable. Concerning it Landor inquires "whether it is not to be +referred to some purer state of sensation and existence." + +In like manner, personal beauty is then first charming and itself when +it dissatisfies us with any end; when it becomes a story without an end; +when it suggests gleams and visions and not earthly satisfactions; when +it makes the beholder feel his unworthiness; when he cannot feel his +right to it, though he were Caesar; he cannot feel more right to it than +to the firmament and the splendors of a sunset. + +Hence arose the saying, "If I love you, what is that to you?" We say so +because we feel that what we love is not in your will, but above it. It +is not you, but your radiance. It is that which you know not in yourself +and can never know. + +This agrees well with that high philosophy of Beauty which the ancient +writers delighted in; for they said that the soul of man, embodied here +on earth, went roaming up and down in quest of that other world of its +own out of which it came into this, but was soon stupefied by the light +of the natural sun, and unable to see any other objects than those of +this world, which are but shadows of real things. Therefore the Deity +sends the glory of youth before the soul, that it may avail itself of +beautiful bodies as aids to its recollection of the celestial good and +fair; and the man beholding such a person in the female sex runs to +her and finds the highest joy in contemplating the form, movement, and +intelligence of this person, because it suggests to him the presence of +that which indeed is within the beauty, and the cause of the beauty. + +If however, from too much conversing with material objects, the soul was +gross, and misplaced its satisfaction in the body, it reaped nothing but +sorrow; body being unable to fulfil the promise which beauty holds out; +but if, accepting the hint of these visions and suggestions which beauty +makes to his mind, the soul passes through the body and falls to admire +strokes of character, and the lovers contemplate one another in their +discourses and their actions, then they pass to the true palace of +beauty, more and more inflame their love of it, and by this love +extinguishing the base affection, as the sun puts out the fire by +shining on the hearth, they become pure and hallowed. By conversation +with that which is in itself excellent, magnanimous, lowly, and just, +the lover comes to a warmer love of these nobilities, and a quicker +apprehension of them. Then he passes from loving them in one to loving +them in all, and so is the one beautiful soul only the door through +which he enters to the society of all true and pure souls. In the +particular society of his mate he attains a clearer sight of any spot, +any taint which her beauty has contracted from this world, and is +able to point it out, and this with mutual joy that they are now able, +without offence, to indicate blemishes and hindrances in each other, and +give to each all help and comfort in curing the same. And beholding in +many souls the traits of the divine beauty, and separating in each +soul that which is divine from the taint which it has contracted in +the world, the lover ascends to the highest beauty, to the love and +knowledge of the Divinity, by steps on this ladder of created souls. + +Somewhat like this have the truly wise told us of love in all ages. +The doctrine is not old, nor is it new. If Plato, Plutarch and Apuleius +taught it, so have Petrarch, Angelo and Milton. It awaits a truer +unfolding in opposition and rebuke to that subterranean prudence which +presides at marriages with words that take hold of the upper world, +whilst one eye is prowling in the cellar; so that its gravest discourse +has a savor of hams and powdering-tubs. Worst, when this sensualism +intrudes into the education of young women, and withers the hope and +affection of human nature by teaching that marriage signifies nothing +but a housewife's thrift, and that woman's life has no other aim. + +But this dream of love, though beautiful, is only one scene in our +play. In the procession of the soul from within outward, it enlarges +its circles ever, like the pebble thrown into the pond, or the light +proceeding from an orb. The rays of the soul alight first on things +nearest, on every utensil and toy, on nurses and domestics, on the house +and yard and passengers, on the circle of household acquaintance, +on politics and geography and history. But things are ever grouping +themselves according to higher or more interior laws. Neighborhood, +size, numbers, habits, persons, lose by degrees their power over us. +Cause and effect, real affinities, the longing for harmony between +the soul and the circumstance, the progressive, idealizing instinct, +predominate later, and the step backward from the higher to the lower +relations is impossible. Thus even love, which is the deification of +persons, must become more impersonal every day. Of this at first it +gives no hint. Little think the youth and maiden who are glancing +at each other across crowded rooms with eyes so full of mutual +intelligence, of the precious fruit long hereafter to proceed from this +new, quite external stimulus. The work of vegetation begins first in the +irritability of the bark and leaf-buds. From exchanging glances, they +advance to acts of courtesy, of gallantry, then to fiery passion, to +plighting troth and marriage. Passion beholds its object as a perfect +unit. The soul is wholly embodied, and the body is wholly ensouled:-- + + "Her pure and eloquent blood + Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought, + That one might almost say her body thought." + +Romeo, if dead, should be cut up into little stars to make the heavens +fine. Life, with this pair, has no other aim, asks no more, than +Juliet,--than Romeo. Night, day, studies, talents, kingdoms, religion, +are all contained in this form full of soul, in this soul which is +all form. The lovers delight in endearments, in avowals of love, in +comparisons of their regards. When alone, they solace themselves with +the remembered image of the other. Does that other see the same star, +the same melting cloud, read the same book, feel the same emotion, that +now delight me? They try and weigh their affection, and adding up costly +advantages, friends, opportunities, properties, exult in discovering +that willingly, joyfully, they would give all as a ransom for the +beautiful, the beloved head, not one hair of which shall be harmed. +But the lot of humanity is on these children. Danger, sorrow, and pain +arrive to them, as to all. Love prays. It makes covenants with Eternal +Power in behalf of this dear mate. The union which is thus effected and +which adds a new value to every atom in nature--for it transmutes every +thread throughout the whole web of relation into a golden ray, and +bathes the soul in a new and sweeter element--is yet a temporary state. +Not always can flowers, pearls, poetry, protestations, nor even home in +another heart, content the awful soul that dwells in clay. It arouses +itself at last from these endearments, as toys, and puts on the harness +and aspires to vast and universal aims. The soul which is in the soul +of each, craving a perfect beatitude, detects incongruities, defects +and disproportion in the behavior of the other. Hence arise surprise, +expostulation and pain. Yet that which drew them to each other was signs +of loveliness, signs of virtue; and these virtues are there, however +eclipsed. They appear and reappear and continue to attract; but the +regard changes, quits the sign and attaches to the substance. This +repairs the wounded affection. Meantime, as life wears on, it proves +a game of permutation and combination of all possible positions of the +parties, to employ all the resources of each and acquaint each with the +strength and weakness of the other. For it is the nature and end of this +relation, that they should represent the human race to each other. +All that is in the world, which is or ought to be known, is cunningly +wrought into the texture of man, of woman:-- + + "The person love does to us fit, + Like manna, has the taste of all in it." + +The world rolls; the circumstances vary every hour. The angels that +inhabit this temple of the body appear at the windows, and the gnomes +and vices also. By all the virtues they are united. If there be virtue, +all the vices are known as such; they confess and flee. Their once +flaming regard is sobered by time in either breast, and losing +in violence what it gains in extent, it becomes a thorough good +understanding. They resign each other without complaint to the good +offices which man and woman are severally appointed to discharge in +time, and exchange the passion which once could not lose sight of its +object, for a cheerful, disengaged furtherance, whether present or +absent, of each other's designs. At last they discover that all which at +first drew them together,--those once sacred features, that magical play +of charms,--was deciduous, had a prospective end, like the scaffolding +by which the house was built; and the purification of the intellect and +the heart from year to year is the real marriage, foreseen and prepared +from the first, and wholly above their consciousness. Looking at +these aims with which two persons, a man and a woman, so variously and +correlatively gifted, are shut up in one house to spend in the nuptial +society forty or fifty years, I do not wonder at the emphasis with which +the heart prophesies this crisis from early infancy, at the profuse +beauty with which the instincts deck the nuptial bower, and nature and +intellect and art emulate each other in the gifts and the melody they +bring to the epithalamium. + +Thus are we put in training for a love which knows not sex, nor person, +nor partiality, but which seeks virtue and wisdom everywhere, to the end +of increasing virtue and wisdom. We are by nature observers, and thereby +learners. That is our permanent state. But we are often made to feel +that our affections are but tents of a night. Though slowly and with +pain, the objects of the affections change, as the objects of thought +do. There are moments when the affections rule and absorb the man and +make his happiness dependent on a person or persons. But in health +the mind is presently seen again,--its overarching vault, bright with +galaxies of immutable lights, and the warm loves and fears that swept +over us as clouds must lose their finite character and blend with God, +to attain their own perfection. But we need not fear that we can lose +any thing by the progress of the soul. The soul may be trusted to the +end. That which is so beautiful and attractive as these relations, must +be succeeded and supplanted only by what is more beautiful, and so on +for ever. + +***** + + + + FRIENDSHIP. + + A RUDDY drop of manly blood + The surging sea outweighs; + The world uncertain comes and goes, + The lover rooted stays. + I fancied he was fled, + And, after many a year, + Glowed unexhausted kindliness + Like daily sunrise there. + My careful heart was free again,-- + O friend, my bosom said, + Through thee alone the sky is arched, + Through thee the rose is red, + All things through thee take nobler form + And look beyond the earth, + The mill-round of our fate appears + A sun-path in thy worth. + Me too thy nobleness has taught + To master my despair; + The fountains of my hidden life + Are through thy friendship fair. + + + + +VI. FRIENDSHIP. + +We have a great deal more kindness than is ever spoken. Maugre all +the selfishness that chills like east winds the world, the whole human +family is bathed with an element of love like a fine ether. How many +persons we meet in houses, whom we scarcely speak to, whom yet we honor, +and who honor us! How many we see in the street, or sit with in church, +whom, though silently, we warmly rejoice to be with! Read the language +of these wandering eye-beams. The heart knoweth. + +The effect of the indulgence of this human affection is a certain +cordial exhilaration. In poetry and in common speech, the emotions of +benevolence and complacency which are felt towards others are likened to +the material effects of fire; so swift, or much more swift, more active, +more cheering, are these fine inward irradiations. From the highest +degree of passionate love to the lowest degree of good-will, they make +the sweetness of life. + +Our intellectual and active powers increase with our affection. The +scholar sits down to write, and all his years of meditation do not +furnish him with one good thought or happy expression; but it is +necessary to write a letter to a friend,--and forthwith troops of gentle +thoughts invest themselves, on every hand, with chosen words. See, in +any house where virtue and self-respect abide, the palpitation which +the approach of a stranger causes. A commended stranger is expected and +announced, and an uneasiness betwixt pleasure and pain invades all the +hearts of a household. His arrival almost brings fear to the good hearts +that would welcome him. The house is dusted, all things fly into their +places, the old coat is exchanged for the new, and they must get up a +dinner if they can. Of a commended stranger, only the good report is +told by others, only the good and new is heard by us. He stands to us +for humanity. He is what we wish. Having imagined and invested him, we +ask how we should stand related in conversation and action with such a +man, and are uneasy with fear. The same idea exalts conversation with +him. We talk better than we are wont. We have the nimblest fancy, a +richer memory, and our dumb devil has taken leave for the time. For +long hours we can continue a series of sincere, graceful, rich +communications, drawn from the oldest, secretest experience, so that +they who sit by, of our own kinsfolk and acquaintance, shall feel a +lively surprise at our unusual powers. But as soon as the stranger +begins to intrude his partialities, his definitions, his defects, into +the conversation, it is all over. He has heard the first, the last +and best he will ever hear from us. He is no stranger now. Vulgarity, +ignorance, misapprehension are old acquaintances. Now, when he comes, he +may get the order, the dress and the dinner,--but the throbbing of the +heart and the communications of the soul, no more. + +What is so pleasant as these jets of affection which make a young world +for me again? What so delicious as a just and firm encounter of two, +in a thought, in a feeling? How beautiful, on their approach to this +beating heart, the steps and forms of the gifted and the true! The +moment we indulge our affections, the earth is metamorphosed; there is +no winter and no night; all tragedies, all ennuis vanish,--all duties +even; nothing fills the proceeding eternity but the forms all radiant of +beloved persons. Let the soul be assured that somewhere in the universe +it should rejoin its friend, and it would be content and cheerful alone +for a thousand years. + +I awoke this morning with devout thanksgiving for my friends, the old +and the new. Shall I not call God the Beautiful, who daily showeth +himself so to me in his gifts? I chide society, I embrace solitude, and +yet I am not so ungrateful as not to see the wise, the lovely and the +noble-minded, as from time to time they pass my gate. Who hears me, who +understands me, becomes mine,--a possession for all time. Nor is Nature +so poor but she gives me this joy several times, and thus we weave +social threads of our own, a new web of relations; and, as many thoughts +in succession substantiate themselves, we shall by and by stand in a +new world of our own creation, and no longer strangers and pilgrims in +a traditionary globe. My friends have come to me unsought. The great God +gave them to me. By oldest right, by the divine affinity of virtue with +itself, I find them, or rather not I but the Deity in me and in them +derides and cancels the thick walls of individual character, relation, +age, sex, circumstance, at which he usually connives, and now makes many +one. High thanks I owe you, excellent lovers, who carry out the world +for me to new and noble depths, and enlarge the meaning of all my +thoughts. These are new poetry of the first Bard,--poetry without +stop,--hymn, ode and epic, poetry still flowing, Apollo and the Muses +chanting still. Will these too separate themselves from me again, or +some of them? I know not, but I fear it not; for my relation to them +is so pure, that we hold by simple affinity, and the Genius of my life +being thus social, the same affinity will exert its energy on whomsoever +is as noble as these men and women, wherever I may be. + +I confess to an extreme tenderness of nature on this point. It is almost +dangerous to me to "crush the sweet poison of misused wine" of the +affections. A new person is to me a great event and hinders me from +sleep. I have often had fine fancies about persons which have given +me delicious hours; but the joy ends in the day; it yields no fruit. +Thought is not born of it; my action is very little modified. I must +feel pride in my friend's accomplishments as if they were mine, and a +property in his virtues. I feel as warmly when he is praised, as the +lover when he hears applause of his engaged maiden. We over-estimate the +conscience of our friend. His goodness seems better than our goodness, +his nature finer, his temptations less. Every thing that is his,--his +name, his form, his dress, books and instruments,--fancy enhances. Our +own thought sounds new and larger from his mouth. + +Yet the systole and diastole of the heart are not without their analogy +in the ebb and flow of love. Friendship, like the immortality of the +soul, is too good to be believed. The lover, beholding his maiden, half +knows that she is not verily that which he worships; and in the golden +hour of friendship we are surprised with shades of suspicion and +unbelief. We doubt that we bestow on our hero the virtues in which he +shines, and afterwards worship the form to which we have ascribed this +divine inhabitation. In strictness, the soul does not respect men as +it respects itself. In strict science all persons underlie the same +condition of an infinite remoteness. Shall we fear to cool our love by +mining for the metaphysical foundation of this Elysian temple? Shall I +not be as real as the things I see? If I am, I shall not fear to know +them for what they are. Their essence is not less beautiful than their +appearance, though it needs finer organs for its apprehension. The +root of the plant is not unsightly to science, though for chaplets and +festoons we cut the stem short. And I must hazard the production of +the bald fact amidst these pleasing reveries, though it should prove an +Egyptian skull at our banquet. A man who stands united with his thought +conceives magnificently of himself. He is conscious of a universal +success, even though bought by uniform particular failures. No +advantages, no powers, no gold or force, can be any match for him. I +cannot choose but rely on my own poverty more than on your wealth. +I cannot make your consciousness tantamount to mine. Only the star +dazzles; the planet has a faint, moon-like ray. I hear what you say of +the admirable parts and tried temper of the party you praise, but I see +well that for all his purple cloaks I shall not like him, unless he is +at last a poor Greek like me. I cannot deny it, O friend, that the vast +shadow of the Phenomenal includes thee also in its pied and painted +immensity,--thee also, compared with whom all else is shadow. Thou art +not Being, as Truth is, as Justice is,--thou art not my soul, but a +picture and effigy of that. Thou hast come to me lately, and already +thou art seizing thy hat and cloak. Is it not that the soul puts forth +friends as the tree puts forth leaves, and presently, by the germination +of new buds, extrudes the old leaf? The law of nature is alternation +for evermore. Each electrical state superinduces the opposite. The +soul environs itself with friends that it may enter into a grander +self-acquaintance or solitude; and it goes alone for a season, that it +may exalt its conversation or society. This method betrays itself along +the whole history of our personal relations. The instinct of affection +revives the hope of union with our mates, and the returning sense of +insulation recalls us from the chase. Thus every man passes his life in +the search after friendship, and if he should record his true sentiment, +he might write a letter like this to each new candidate for his love:-- + +DEAR FRIEND, + +If I was sure of thee, sure of thy capacity, sure to match my mood with +thine, I should never think again of trifles in relation to thy comings +and goings. I am not very wise; my moods are quite attainable, and +I respect thy genius; it is to me as yet unfathomed; yet dare I not +presume in thee a perfect intelligence of me, and so thou art to me a +delicious torment. Thine ever, or never. + +Yet these uneasy pleasures and fine pains are for curiosity and not +for life. They are not to be indulged. This is to weave cobweb, and not +cloth. Our friendships hurry to short and poor conclusions, because we +have made them a texture of wine and dreams, instead of the tough fibre +of the human heart. The laws of friendship are austere and eternal, of +one web with the laws of nature and of morals. But we have aimed at a +swift and petty benefit, to suck a sudden sweetness. We snatch at the +slowest fruit in the whole garden of God, which many summers and +many winters must ripen. We seek our friend not sacredly, but with an +adulterate passion which would appropriate him to ourselves. In vain. We +are armed all over with subtle antagonisms, which, as soon as we meet, +begin to play, and translate all poetry into stale prose. Almost all +people descend to meet. All association must be a compromise, and, +what is worst, the very flower and aroma of the flower of each of +the beautiful natures disappears as they approach each other. What a +perpetual disappointment is actual society, even of the virtuous and +gifted! After interviews have been compassed with long foresight we +must be tormented presently by baffled blows, by sudden, unseasonable +apathies, by epilepsies of wit and of animal spirits, in the heyday +of friendship and thought. Our faculties do not play us true, and both +parties are relieved by solitude. + +I ought to be equal to every relation. It makes no difference how many +friends I have and what content I can find in conversing with each, if +there be one to whom I am not equal. If I have shrunk unequal from one +contest, the joy I find in all the rest becomes mean and cowardly. I +should hate myself, if then I made my other friends my asylum:-- + + "The valiant warrior famoused for fight, + After a hundred victories, once foiled, + Is from the book of honor razed quite, + And all the rest forgot for which he toiled." + +Our impatience is thus sharply rebuked. Bashfulness and apathy are a +tough husk in which a delicate organization is protected from premature +ripening. It would be lost if it knew itself before any of the +best souls were yet ripe enough to know and own it. Respect the +naturlangsamkeit which hardens the ruby in a million years, and works +in duration in which Alps and Andes come and go as rainbows. The good +spirit of our life has no heaven which is the price of rashness. Love, +which is the essence of God, is not for levity, but for the total worth +of man. Let us not have this childish luxury in our regards, but the +austerest worth; let us approach our friend with an audacious trust in +the truth of his heart, in the breadth, impossible to be overturned, of +his foundations. + +The attractions of this subject are not to be resisted, and I leave, for +the time, all account of subordinate social benefit, to speak of that +select and sacred relation which is a kind of absolute, and which even +leaves the language of love suspicious and common, so much is this +purer, and nothing is so much divine. + +I do not wish to treat friendships daintily, but with roughest courage. +When they are real, they are not glass threads or frostwork, but the +solidest thing we know. For now, after so many ages of experience, what +do we know of nature or of ourselves? Not one step has man taken toward +the solution of the problem of his destiny. In one condemnation of folly +stand the whole universe of men. But the sweet sincerity of joy and +peace which I draw from this alliance with my brother's soul is the nut +itself whereof all nature and all thought is but the husk and shell. +Happy is the house that shelters a friend! It might well be built, like +a festal bower or arch, to entertain him a single day. Happier, if he +know the solemnity of that relation and honor its law! He who offers +himself a candidate for that covenant comes up, like an Olympian, to the +great games where the first-born of the world are the competitors. +He proposes himself for contests where Time, Want, Danger, are in the +lists, and he alone is victor who has truth enough in his constitution +to preserve the delicacy of his beauty from the wear and tear of all +these. The gifts of fortune may be present or absent, but all the speed +in that contest depends on intrinsic nobleness and the contempt +of trifles. There are two elements that go to the composition of +friendship, each so sovereign that I can detect no superiority in +either, no reason why either should be first named. One is truth. A +friend is a person with whom I may be sincere. Before him I may think +aloud. I am arrived at last in the presence of a man so real and +equal that I may drop even those undermost garments of dissimulation, +courtesy, and second thought, which men never put off, and may deal with +him with the simplicity and wholeness with which one chemical atom meets +another. Sincerity is the luxury allowed, like diadems and authority, +only to the highest rank; that being permitted to speak truth, as having +none above it to court or conform unto. Every man alone is sincere. At +the entrance of a second person, hypocrisy begins. We parry and fend the +approach of our fellow-man by compliments, by gossip, by amusements, by +affairs. We cover up our thought from him under a hundred folds. I knew +a man who under a certain religious frenzy cast off this drapery, and +omitting all compliment and commonplace, spoke to the conscience of +every person he encountered, and that with great insight and beauty. At +first he was resisted, and all men agreed he was mad. But persisting--as +indeed he could not help doing--for some time in this course, he +attained to the advantage of bringing every man of his acquaintance into +true relations with him. No man would think of speaking falsely with +him, or of putting him off with any chat of markets or reading-rooms. +But every man was constrained by so much sincerity to the like +plaindealing, and what love of nature, what poetry, what symbol of truth +he had, he did certainly show him. But to most of us society shows not +its face and eye, but its side and its back. To stand in true relations +with men in a false age is worth a fit of insanity, is it not? We +can seldom go erect. Almost every man we meet requires some +civility,--requires to be humored; he has some fame, some talent, +some whim of religion or philanthropy in his head that is not to be +questioned, and which spoils all conversation with him. But a friend is +a sane man who exercises not my ingenuity, but me. My friend gives me +entertainment without requiring any stipulation on my part. A friend +therefore is a sort of paradox in nature. I who alone am, I who see +nothing in nature whose existence I can affirm with equal evidence to my +own, behold now the semblance of my being, in all its height, variety, +and curiosity, reiterated in a foreign form; so that a friend may well +be reckoned the masterpiece of nature. + +The other element of friendship is tenderness. We are holden to men by +every sort of tie, by blood, by pride, by fear, by hope, by lucre, +by lust, by hate, by admiration, by every circumstance and badge and +trifle,--but we can scarce believe that so much character can subsist in +another as to draw us by love. Can another be so blessed and we so pure +that we can offer him tenderness? When a man becomes dear to me I have +touched the goal of fortune. I find very little written directly to the +heart of this matter in books. And yet I have one text which I cannot +choose but remember. My author says,--"I offer myself faintly and +bluntly to those whose I effectually am, and tender myself least to him +to whom I am the most devoted." I wish that friendship should have +feet, as well as eyes and eloquence. It must plant itself on the ground, +before it vaults over the moon. I wish it to be a little of a citizen, +before it is quite a cherub. We chide the citizen because he makes love +a commodity. It is an exchange of gifts, of useful loans; it is good +neighborhood; it watches with the sick; it holds the pall at the +funeral; and quite loses sight of the delicacies and nobility of the +relation. But though we cannot find the god under this disguise of a +sutler, yet on the other hand we cannot forgive the poet if he spins his +thread too fine and does not substantiate his romance by the municipal +virtues of justice, punctuality, fidelity and pity. I hate the +prostitution of the name of friendship to signify modish and worldly +alliances. I much prefer the company of ploughboys and tin-peddlers to +the silken and perfumed amity which celebrates its days of encounter +by a frivolous display, by rides in a curricle and dinners at the best +taverns. The end of friendship is a commerce the most strict and homely +that can be joined; more strict than any of which we have experience. +It is for aid and comfort through all the relations and passages of +life and death. It is fit for serene days and graceful gifts and country +rambles, but also for rough roads and hard fare, shipwreck, poverty, +and persecution. It keeps company with the sallies of the wit and the +trances of religion. We are to dignify to each other the daily needs and +offices of man's life, and embellish it by courage, wisdom and unity. It +should never fall into something usual and settled, but should be alert +and inventive and add rhyme and reason to what was drudgery. + +Friendship may be said to require natures so rare and costly, each so +well tempered and so happily adapted, and withal so circumstanced (for +even in that particular, a poet says, love demands that the parties be +altogether paired), that its satisfaction can very seldom be assured. It +cannot subsist in its perfection, say some of those who are learned in +this warm lore of the heart, betwixt more than two. I am not quite +so strict in my terms, perhaps because I have never known so high a +fellowship as others. I please my imagination more with a circle of +godlike men and women variously related to each other and between +whom subsists a lofty intelligence. But I find this law of one to one +peremptory for conversation, which is the practice and consummation of +friendship. Do not mix waters too much. The best mix as ill as good and +bad. You shall have very useful and cheering discourse at several times +with two several men, but let all three of you come together and you +shall not have one new and hearty word. Two may talk and one may hear, +but three cannot take part in a conversation of the most sincere and +searching sort. In good company there is never such discourse between +two, across the table, as takes place when you leave them alone. In good +company the individuals merge their egotism into a social soul exactly +co-extensive with the several consciousnesses there present. No +partialities of friend to friend, no fondnesses of brother to sister, of +wife to husband, are there pertinent, but quite otherwise. Only he may +then speak who can sail on the common thought of the party, and not +poorly limited to his own. Now this convention, which good sense +demands, destroys the high freedom of great conversation, which requires +an absolute running of two souls into one. + +No two men but being left alone with each other enter into simpler +relations. Yet it is affinity that determines which two shall converse. +Unrelated men give little joy to each other, will never suspect +the latent powers of each. We talk sometimes of a great talent for +conversation, as if it were a permanent property in some individuals. +Conversation is an evanescent relation,--no more. A man is reputed to +have thought and eloquence; he cannot, for all that, say a word to his +cousin or his uncle. They accuse his silence with as much reason as they +would blame the insignificance of a dial in the shade. In the sun it +will mark the hour. Among those who enjoy his thought he will regain his +tongue. + +Friendship requires that rare mean betwixt likeness and unlikeness +that piques each with the presence of power and of consent in the other +party. Let me be alone to the end of the world, rather than that my +friend should overstep, by a word or a look, his real sympathy. I am +equally balked by antagonism and by compliance. Let him not cease an +instant to be himself. The only joy I have in his being mine, is that +the not mine is mine. I hate, where I looked for a manly furtherance, or +at least a manly resistance, to find a mush of concession. Better be +a nettle in the side of your friend than his echo. The condition which +high friendship demands is ability to do without it. That high office +requires great and sublime parts. There must be very two, before there +can be very one. Let it be an alliance of two large, formidable natures, +mutually beheld, mutually feared, before yet they recognize the deep +identity which, beneath these disparities, unites them. + +He only is fit for this society who is magnanimous; who is sure +that greatness and goodness are always economy; who is not swift to +intermeddle with his fortunes. Let him not intermeddle with this. Leave +to the diamond its ages to grow, nor expect to accelerate the births +of the eternal. Friendship demands a religious treatment. We talk of +choosing our friends, but friends are self-elected. Reverence is a great +part of it. Treat your friend as a spectacle. Of course he has merits +that are not yours, and that you cannot honor if you must needs hold +him close to your person. Stand aside; give those merits room; let them +mount and expand. Are you the friend of your friend's buttons, or of +his thought? To a great heart he will still be a stranger in a thousand +particulars, that he may come near in the holiest ground. Leave it to +girls and boys to regard a friend as property, and to suck a short and +all-confounding pleasure, instead of the noblest benefit. + +Let us buy our entrance to this guild by a long probation. Why should we +desecrate noble and beautiful souls by intruding on them? Why insist on +rash personal relations with your friend? Why go to his house, or know +his mother and brother and sisters? Why be visited by him at your own? +Are these things material to our covenant? Leave this touching and +clawing. Let him be to me a spirit. A message, a thought, a sincerity, +a glance from him, I want, but not news, nor pottage. I can get politics +and chat and neighborly conveniences from cheaper companions. Should not +the society of my friend be to me poetic, pure, universal and great as +nature itself? Ought I to feel that our tie is profane in comparison +with yonder bar of cloud that sleeps on the horizon, or that clump of +waving grass that divides the brook? Let us not vilify, but raise it to +that standard. That great defying eye, that scornful beauty of his mien +and action, do not pique yourself on reducing, but rather fortify and +enhance. Worship his superiorities; wish him not less by a thought, but +hoard and tell them all. Guard him as thy counterpart. Let him be to +thee for ever a sort of beautiful enemy, untamable, devoutly revered, +and not a trivial conveniency to be soon outgrown and cast aside. The +hues of the opal, the light of the diamond, are not to be seen if the +eye is too near. To my friend I write a letter and from him I receive +a letter. That seems to you a little. It suffices me. It is a spiritual +gift worthy of him to give and of me to receive. It profanes nobody. +In these warm lines the heart will trust itself, as it will not to the +tongue, and pour out the prophecy of a godlier existence than all the +annals of heroism have yet made good. + +Respect so far the holy laws of this fellowship as not to prejudice its +perfect flower by your impatience for its opening. We must be our own +before we can be another's. There is at least this satisfaction in +crime, according to the Latin proverb;--you can speak to your accomplice +on even terms. Crimen quos inquinat, aequat. To those whom we admire +and love, at first we cannot. Yet the least defect of self-possession +vitiates, in my judgment, the entire relation. There can never be deep +peace between two spirits, never mutual respect, until in their dialogue +each stands for the whole world. + +What is so great as friendship, let us carry with what grandeur of +spirit we can. Let us be silent,--so we may hear the whisper of the +gods. Let us not interfere. Who set you to cast about what you should +say to the select souls, or how to say any thing to such? No matter +how ingenious, no matter how graceful and bland. There are innumerable +degrees of folly and wisdom, and for you to say aught is to be +frivolous. Wait, and thy heart shall speak. Wait until the necessary and +everlasting overpowers you, until day and night avail themselves of your +lips. The only reward of virtue is virtue; the only way to have a friend +is to be one. You shall not come nearer a man by getting into his house. +If unlike, his soul only flees the faster from you, and you shall never +catch a true glance of his eye. We see the noble afar off and they +repel us; why should we intrude? Late,--very late,--we perceive that +no arrangements, no introductions, no consuetudes or habits of society +would be of any avail to establish us in such relations with them as we +desire,--but solely the uprise of nature in us to the same degree it is +in them; then shall we meet as water with water; and if we should not +meet them then, we shall not want them, for we are already they. In the +last analysis, love is only the reflection of a man's own worthiness +from other men. Men have sometimes exchanged names with their friends, +as if they would signify that in their friend each loved his own soul. + +The higher the style we demand of friendship, of course the less easy to +establish it with flesh and blood. We walk alone in the world. Friends +such as we desire are dreams and fables. But a sublime hope cheers ever +the faithful heart, that elsewhere, in other regions of the universal +power, souls are now acting, enduring, and daring, which can love us +and which we can love. We may congratulate ourselves that the period of +nonage, of follies, of blunders and of shame, is passed in solitude, and +when we are finished men we shall grasp heroic hands in heroic hands. +Only be admonished by what you already see, not to strike leagues +of friendship with cheap persons, where no friendship can be. Our +impatience betrays us into rash and foolish alliances which no god +attends. By persisting in your path, though you forfeit the little you +gain the great. You demonstrate yourself, so as to put yourself out of +the reach of false relations, and you draw to you the first-born of the +world,--those rare pilgrims whereof only one or two wander in nature +at once, and before whom the vulgar great show as spectres and shadows +merely. + +It is foolish to be afraid of making our ties too spiritual, as if so we +could lose any genuine love. Whatever correction of our popular views we +make from insight, nature will be sure to bear us out in, and though it +seem to rob us of some joy, will repay us with a greater. Let us feel if +we will the absolute insulation of man. We are sure that we have all +in us. We go to Europe, or we pursue persons, or we read books, in +the instinctive faith that these will call it out and reveal us to +ourselves. Beggars all. The persons are such as we; the Europe, an old +faded garment of dead persons; the books, their ghosts. Let us drop this +idolatry. Let us give over this mendicancy. Let us even bid our dearest +friends farewell, and defy them, saying, 'Who are you? Unhand me: I will +be dependent no more.' Ah! seest thou not, O brother, that thus we part +only to meet again on a higher platform, and only be more each other's +because we are more our own? A friend is Janus-faced; he looks to the +past and the future. He is the child of all my foregoing hours, the +prophet of those to come, and the harbinger of a greater friend. + +I do then with my friends as I do with my books. I would have them where +I can find them, but I seldom use them. We must have society on our own +terms, and admit or exclude it on the slightest cause. I cannot afford +to speak much with my friend. If he is great he makes me so great that +I cannot descend to converse. In the great days, presentiments hover +before me in the firmament. I ought then to dedicate myself to them. I +go in that I may seize them, I go out that I may seize them. I fear only +that I may lose them receding into the sky in which now they are only +a patch of brighter light. Then, though I prize my friends, I cannot +afford to talk with them and study their visions, lest I lose my own. It +would indeed give me a certain household joy to quit this lofty seeking, +this spiritual astronomy or search of stars, and come down to warm +sympathies with you; but then I know well I shall mourn always the +vanishing of my mighty gods. It is true, next week I shall have languid +moods, when I can well afford to occupy myself with foreign objects; +then I shall regret the lost literature of your mind, and wish you were +by my side again. But if you come, perhaps you will fill my mind only +with new visions; not with yourself but with your lustres, and I shall +not be able any more than now to converse with you. So I will owe to my +friends this evanescent intercourse. I will receive from them not what +they have but what they are. They shall give me that which properly they +cannot give, but which emanates from them. But they shall not hold me by +any relations less subtile and pure. We will meet as though we met not, +and part as though we parted not. + +It has seemed to me lately more possible than I knew, to carry a +friendship greatly, on one side, without due correspondence on the +other. Why should I cumber myself with regrets that the receiver is not +capacious? It never troubles the sun that some of his rays fall wide +and vain into ungrateful space, and only a small part on the reflecting +planet. Let your greatness educate the crude and cold companion. If he +is unequal he will presently pass away; but thou art enlarged by thy own +shining, and no longer a mate for frogs and worms, dost soar and +burn with the gods of the empyrean. It is thought a disgrace to love +unrequited. But the great will see that true love cannot be unrequited. +True love transcends the unworthy object and dwells and broods on the +eternal, and when the poor interposed mask crumbles, it is not sad, but +feels rid of so much earth and feels its independency the surer. Yet +these things may hardly be said without a sort of treachery to the +relation. The essence of friendship is entireness, a total magnanimity +and trust. It must not surmise or provide for infirmity. It treats its +object as a god, that it may deify both. + +***** + + + + PRUDENCE. + + THEME no poet gladly sung, + Fair to old and foul to young; + Scorn not thou the love of parts, + And the articles of arts. + Grandeur of the perfect sphere + Thanks the atoms that cohere. + + + + +VII. PRUDENCE. + +What right have I to write on Prudence, whereof I have Little, and +that of the negative sort? My prudence consists in avoiding and going +without, not in the inventing of means and methods, not in adroit +steering, not in gentle repairing. I have no skill to make money spend +well, no genius in my economy, and whoever sees my garden discovers that +I must have some other garden. Yet I love facts, and hate lubricity +and people without perception. Then I have the same title to write +on prudence that I have to write on poetry or holiness. We write from +aspiration and antagonism, as well as from experience. We paint those +qualities which we do not possess. The poet admires the man of energy +and tactics; the merchant breeds his son for the church or the bar; and +where a man is not vain and egotistic you shall find what he has not +by his praise. Moreover it would be hardly honest in me not to balance +these fine lyric words of Love and Friendship with words of coarser +sound, and whilst my debt to my senses is real and constant, not to own +it in passing. + +Prudence is the virtue of the senses. It is the science of appearances. +It is the outmost action of the inward life. It is God taking thought +for oxen. It moves matter after the laws of matter. It is content to +seek health of body by complying with physical conditions, and health of +mind by the laws of the intellect. + +The world of the senses is a world of shows; it does not exist for +itself, but has a symbolic character; and a true prudence or law of +shows recognizes the co-presence of other laws and knows that its own +office is subaltern; knows that it is surface and not centre where it +works. Prudence is false when detached. It is legitimate when it is the +Natural History of the soul incarnate, when it unfolds the beauty of +laws within the narrow scope of the senses. + +There are all degrees of proficiency in knowledge of the world. It is +sufficient to our present purpose to indicate three. One class live to +the utility of the symbol, esteeming health and wealth a final good. +Another class live above this mark to the beauty of the symbol, as the +poet and artist and the naturalist and man of science. A third +class live above the beauty of the symbol to the beauty of the thing +signified; these are wise men. The first class have common sense; the +second, taste; and the third, spiritual perception. Once in a long time, +a man traverses the whole scale, and sees and enjoys the symbol solidly, +then also has a clear eye for its beauty, and lastly, whilst he pitches +his tent on this sacred volcanic isle of nature, does not offer to build +houses and barns thereon,--reverencing the splendor of the God which he +sees bursting through each chink and cranny. + +The world is filled with the proverbs and acts and winkings of a base +prudence, which is a devotion to matter, as if we possessed no other +faculties than the palate, the nose, the touch, the eye and ear; a +prudence which adores the Rule of Three, which never subscribes, which +never gives, which seldom lends, and asks but one question of any +project,--Will it bake bread? This is a disease like a thickening of the +skin until the vital organs are destroyed. But culture, revealing the +high origin of the apparent world and aiming at the perfection of the +man as the end, degrades every thing else, as health and bodily life, +into means. It sees prudence not to be a several faculty, but a name for +wisdom and virtue conversing with the body and its wants. Cultivated men +always feel and speak so, as if a great fortune, the achievement of +a civil or social measure, great personal influence, a graceful and +commanding address, had their value as proofs of the energy of the +spirit. If a man lose his balance and immerse himself in any trades or +pleasures for their own sake, he may be a good wheel or pin, but he is +not a cultivated man. + +The spurious prudence, making the senses final, is the god of sots and +cowards, and is the subject of all comedy. It is nature's joke, and +therefore literature's. The true prudence limits this sensualism by +admitting the knowledge of an internal and real world. This recognition +once made, the order of the world and the distribution of affairs and +times, being studied with the co-perception of their subordinate place, +will reward any degree of attention. For our existence, thus apparently +attached in nature to the sun and the returning moon and the periods +which they mark,--so susceptible to climate and to country, so alive to +social good and evil, so fond of splendor and so tender to hunger and +cold and debt,--reads all its primary lessons out of these books. + +Prudence does not go behind nature and ask whence it is. It takes the +laws of the world whereby man's being is conditioned, as they are, and +keeps these laws that it may enjoy their proper good. It respects space +and time, climate, want, sleep, the law of polarity, growth and death. +There revolve, to give bound and period to his being on all sides, +the sun and moon, the great formalists in the sky: here lies stubborn +matter, and will not swerve from its chemical routine. Here is a planted +globe, pierced and belted with natural laws and fenced and distributed +externally with civil partitions and properties which impose new +restraints on the young inhabitant. + +We eat of the bread which grows in the field. We live by the air which +blows around us and we are poisoned by the air that is too cold or too +hot, too dry or too wet. Time, which shows so vacant, indivisible and +divine in its coming, is slit and peddled into trifles and tatters. A +door is to be painted, a lock to be repaired. I want wood or oil, or +meal or salt; the house smokes, or I have a headache; then the tax, and +an affair to be transacted with a man without heart or brains, and the +stinging recollection of an injurious or very awkward word,--these eat +up the hours. Do what we can, summer will have its flies; if we walk in +the woods we must feed mosquitos; if we go a-fishing we must expect a +wet coat. Then climate is a great impediment to idle persons; we often +resolve to give up the care of the weather, but still we regard the +clouds and the rain. + +We are instructed by these petty experiences which usurp the hours and +years. The hard soil and four months of snow make the inhabitant of the +northern temperate zone wiser and abler than his fellow who enjoys the +fixed smile of the tropics. The islander may ramble all day at will. +At night he may sleep on a mat under the moon, and wherever a wild +date-tree grows, nature has, without a prayer even, spread a table for +his morning meal. The northerner is perforce a householder. He must +brew, bake, salt and preserve his food, and pile wood and coal. But +as it happens that not one stroke can labor lay to without some new +acquaintance with nature, and as nature is inexhaustibly significant, +the inhabitants of these climates have always excelled the southerner +in force. Such is the value of these matters that a man who knows +other things can never know too much of these. Let him have accurate +perceptions. Let him, if he have hands, handle; if eyes, measure and +discriminate; let him accept and hive every fact of chemistry, natural +history and economics; the more he has, the less is he willing to spare +any one. Time is always bringing the occasions that disclose their +value. Some wisdom comes out of every natural and innocent action. The +domestic man, who loves no music so well as his kitchen clock and the +airs which the logs sing to him as they burn on the hearth, has solaces +which others never dream of. The application of means to ends insures +victory and the songs of victory not less in a farm or a shop than +in the tactics of party or of war. The good husband finds method as +efficient in the packing of fire-wood in a shed or in the harvesting +of fruits in the cellar, as in Peninsular campaigns or the files of the +Department of State. In the rainy day he builds a work-bench, or gets +his tool-box set in the corner of the barn-chamber, and stored with +nails, gimlet, pincers, screwdriver and chisel. Herein he tastes an old +joy of youth and childhood, the cat-like love of garrets, presses and +corn-chambers, and of the conveniences of long housekeeping. His garden +or his poultry-yard tells him many pleasant anecdotes. One might find +argument for optimism in the abundant flow of this saccharine element of +pleasure in every suburb and extremity of the good world. Let a man keep +the law,--any law,--and his way will be strown with satisfactions. There +is more difference in the quality of our pleasures than in the amount. + +On the other hand, nature punishes any neglect of prudence. If you think +the senses final, obey their law. If you believe in the soul, do not +clutch at sensual sweetness before it is ripe on the slow tree of cause +and effect. It is vinegar to the eyes to deal with men of loose and +imperfect perception. Dr. Johnson is reported to have said,--"If +the child says he looked out of this window, when he looked out of +that,--whip him." Our American character is marked by a more than +average delight in accurate perception, which is shown by the currency +of the byword, "No mistake." But the discomfort of unpunctuality, +of confusion of thought about facts, of inattention to the wants of +to-morrow, is of no nation. The beautiful laws of time and space, +once dislocated by our inaptitude, are holes and dens. If the hive be +disturbed by rash and stupid hands, instead of honey it will yield +us bees. Our words and actions to be fair must be timely. A gay and +pleasant sound is the whetting of the scythe in the mornings of June, +yet what is more lonesome and sad than the sound of a whetstone +or mower's rifle when it is too late in the season to make hay? +Scatter-brained and "afternoon" men spoil much more than their own +affair in spoiling the temper of those who deal with them. I have seen +a criticism on some paintings, of which I am reminded when I see the +shiftless and unhappy men who are not true to their senses. The last +Grand Duke of Weimar, a man of superior understanding, said,--"I have +sometimes remarked in the presence of great works of art, and just now +especially in Dresden, how much a certain property contributes to the +effect which gives life to the figures, and to the life an irresistible +truth. This property is the hitting, in all the figures we draw, the +right centre of gravity. I mean the placing the figures firm upon their +feet, making the hands grasp, and fastening the eyes on the spot where +they should look. Even lifeless figures, as vessels and stools--let them +be drawn ever so correctly--lose all effect so soon as they lack the +resting upon their centre of gravity, and have a certain swimming and +oscillating appearance. The Raphael in the Dresden gallery (the only +greatly affecting picture which I have seen) is the quietest and most +passionless piece you can imagine; a couple of saints who worship the +Virgin and Child. Nevertheless, it awakens a deeper impression than +the contortions of ten crucified martyrs. For beside all the resistless +beauty of form, it possesses in the highest degree the property of the +perpendicularity of all the figures." This perpendicularity we demand of +all the figures in this picture of life. Let them stand on their feet, +and not float and swing. Let us know where to find them. Let them +discriminate between what they remember and what they dreamed, call a +spade a spade, give us facts, and honor their own senses with trust. + +But what man shall dare tax another with imprudence? Who is prudent? The +men we call greatest are least in this kingdom. There is a certain fatal +dislocation in our relation to nature, distorting our modes of living +and making every law our enemy, which seems at last to have aroused all +the wit and virtue in the world to ponder the question of Reform. We +must call the highest prudence to counsel, and ask why health and beauty +and genius should now be the exception rather than the rule of human +nature? We do not know the properties of plants and animals and the +laws of nature, through our sympathy with the same; but this remains the +dream of poets. Poetry and prudence should be coincident. Poets should +be lawgivers; that is, the boldest lyric inspiration should not chide +and insult, but should announce and lead the civil code and the day's +work. But now the two things seem irreconcilably parted. We have +violated law upon law until we stand amidst ruins, and when by chance we +espy a coincidence between reason and the phenomena, we are surprised. +Beauty should be the dowry of every man and woman, as invariably as +sensation; but it is rare. Health or sound organization should be +universal. Genius should be the child of genius and every child should +be inspired; but now it is not to be predicted of any child, and nowhere +is it pure. We call partial half-lights, by courtesy, genius; talent +which converts itself to money; talent which glitters to-day that it may +dine and sleep well to-morrow; and society is officered by men of parts, +as they are properly called, and not by divine men. These use their +gifts to refine luxury, not to abolish it. Genius is always ascetic, +and piety, and love. Appetite shows to the finer souls as a disease, and +they find beauty in rites and bounds that resist it. + +We have found out fine names to cover our sensuality withal, but no +gifts can raise intemperance. The man of talent affects to call his +transgressions of the laws of the senses trivial and to count them +nothing considered with his devotion to his art. His art never taught +him lewdness, nor the love of wine, nor the wish to reap where he had +not sowed. His art is less for every deduction from his holiness, and +less for every defect of common sense. On him who scorned the world as +he said, the scorned world wreaks its revenge. He that despiseth small +things will perish by little and little. Goethe's Tasso is very likely +to be a pretty fair historical portrait, and that is true tragedy. It +does not seem to me so genuine grief when some tyrannous Richard the +Third oppresses and slays a score of innocent persons, as when Antonio +and Tasso, both apparently right, wrong each other. One living after the +maxims of this world and consistent and true to them, the other fired +with all divine sentiments, yet grasping also at the pleasures of sense, +without submitting to their law. That is a grief we all feel, a knot we +cannot untie. Tasso's is no infrequent case in modern biography. A +man of genius, of an ardent temperament, reckless of physical +laws, self-indulgent, becomes presently unfortunate, querulous, a +"discomfortable cousin," a thorn to himself and to others. + +The scholar shames us by his bifold life. Whilst something higher than +prudence is active, he is admirable; when common sense is wanted, he is +an encumbrance. Yesterday, Caesar was not so great; to-day, the felon +at the gallows' foot is not more miserable. Yesterday, radiant with the +light of an ideal world in which he lives, the first of men; and now +oppressed by wants and by sickness, for which he must thank himself. He +resembles the pitiful drivellers whom travellers describe as frequenting +the bazaars of Constantinople, who skulk about all day, yellow, +emaciated, ragged, sneaking; and at evening, when the bazaars are open, +slink to the opium-shop, swallow their morsel and become tranquil and +glorified seers. And who has not seen the tragedy of imprudent genius +struggling for years with paltry pecuniary difficulties, at last +sinking, chilled, exhausted and fruitless, like a giant slaughtered by +pins? + +Is it not better that a man should accept the first pains and +mortifications of this sort, which nature is not slack in sending him, +as hints that he must expect no other good than the just fruit of his +own labor and self-denial? Health, bread, climate, social position, have +their importance, and he will give them their due. Let him esteem Nature +a perpetual counsellor, and her perfections the exact measure of our +deviations. Let him make the night night, and the day day. Let him +control the habit of expense. Let him see that as much wisdom may be +expended on a private economy as on an empire, and as much wisdom may +be drawn from it. The laws of the world are written out for him on every +piece of money in his hand. There is nothing he will not be the +better for knowing, were it only the wisdom of Poor Richard, or the +State-Street prudence of buying by the acre to sell by the foot; or the +thrift of the agriculturist, to stick a tree between whiles, because it +will grow whilst he sleeps; or the prudence which consists in husbanding +little strokes of the tool, little portions of time, particles of stock +and small gains. The eye of prudence may never shut. Iron, if kept at +the ironmonger's, will rust; beer, if not brewed in the right state of +the atmosphere, will sour; timber of ships will rot at sea, or if laid +up high and dry, will strain, warp and dry-rot; money, if kept by +us, yields no rent and is liable to loss; if invested, is liable to +depreciation of the particular kind of stock. Strike, says the smith, +the iron is white; keep the rake, says the haymaker, as nigh the scythe +as you can, and the cart as nigh the rake. Our Yankee trade is reputed +to be very much on the extreme of this prudence. It takes bank-notes, +good, bad, clean, ragged, and saves itself by the speed with which it +passes them off. Iron cannot rust, nor beer sour, nor timber rot, nor +calicoes go out of fashion, nor money stocks depreciate, in the few +swift moments in which the Yankee suffers any one of them to remain in +his possession. In skating over thin ice our safety is in our speed. + +Let him learn a prudence of a higher strain. Let him learn that every +thing in nature, even motes and feathers, go by law and not by luck, and +that what he sows he reaps. By diligence and self-command let him put +the bread he eats at his own disposal, that he may not stand in bitter +and false relations to other men; for the best good of wealth is +freedom. Let him practise the minor virtues. How much of human life is +lost in waiting! let him not make his fellow-creatures wait. How many +words and promises are promises of conversation! Let his be words of +fate. When he sees a folded and sealed scrap of paper float round the +globe in a pine ship and come safe to the eye for which it was written, +amidst a swarming population, let him likewise feel the admonition to +integrate his being across all these distracting forces, and keep a +slender human word among the storms, distances and accidents that drive +us hither and thither, and, by persistency, make the paltry force of +one man reappear to redeem its pledge after months and years in the most +distant climates. + +We must not try to write the laws of any one virtue, looking at that +only. Human nature loves no contradictions, but is symmetrical. The +prudence which secures an outward well-being is not to be studied by one +set of men, whilst heroism and holiness are studied by another, but they +are reconcilable. Prudence concerns the present time, persons, property +and existing forms. But as every fact hath its roots in the soul, and +if the soul were changed, would cease to be, or would become some other +thing,--the proper administration of outward things will always rest +on a just apprehension of their cause and origin; that is, the good +man will be the wise man, and the single-hearted the politic man. Every +violation of truth is not only a sort of suicide in the liar, but is +a stab at the health of human society. On the most profitable lie the +course of events presently lays a destructive tax; whilst frankness +invites frankness, puts the parties on a convenient footing and makes +their business a friendship. Trust men and they will be true to you; +treat them greatly and they will show themselves great, though they make +an exception in your favor to all their rules of trade. + +So, in regard to disagreeable and formidable things, prudence does not +consist in evasion or in flight, but in courage. He who wishes to walk +in the most peaceful parts of life with any serenity must screw himself +up to resolution. Let him front the object of his worst apprehension, +and his stoutness will commonly make his fear groundless. The +Latin proverb says, "In battles the eye is first overcome." Entire +self-possession may make a battle very little more dangerous to life +than a match at foils or at football. Examples are cited by soldiers of +men who have seen the cannon pointed and the fire given to it, and who +have stepped aside from the path of the ball. The terrors of the storm +are chiefly confined to the parlor and the cabin. The drover, the +sailor, buffets it all day, and his health renews itself at as vigorous +a pulse under the sleet as under the sun of June. + +In the occurrence of unpleasant things among neighbors, fear comes +readily to heart and magnifies the consequence of the other party; +but it is a bad counsellor. Every man is actually weak and apparently +strong. To himself he seems weak; to others, formidable. You are afraid +of Grim; but Grim also is afraid of you. You are solicitous of the +good-will of the meanest person, uneasy at his ill-will. But the +sturdiest offender of your peace and of the neighborhood, if you rip +up his claims, is as thin and timid as any, and the peace of society is +often kept, because, as children say, one is afraid, and the other dares +not. Far off, men swell, bully and threaten; bring them hand to hand, +and they are a feeble folk. + +It is a proverb that 'courtesy costs nothing'; but calculation might +come to value love for its profit. Love is fabled to be blind, but +kindness is necessary to perception; love is not a hood, but an +eye-water. If you meet a sectary or a hostile partisan, never recognize +the dividing lines, but meet on what common ground remains,--if only +that the sun shines and the rain rains for both; the area will widen +very fast, and ere you know it, the boundary mountains on which the eye +had fastened have melted into air. If they set out to contend, Saint +Paul will lie and Saint John will hate. What low, poor, paltry, +hypocritical people an argument on religion will make of the pure and +chosen souls! They will shuffle and crow, crook and hide, feign to +confess here, only that they may brag and conquer there, and not a +thought has enriched either party, and not an emotion of bravery, +modesty, or hope. So neither should you put yourself in a false +position with your contemporaries by indulging a vein of hostility and +bitterness. Though your views are in straight antagonism to theirs, +assume an identity of sentiment, assume that you are saying precisely +that which all think, and in the flow of wit and love roll out your +paradoxes in solid column, with not the infirmity of a doubt. So at +least shall you get an adequate deliverance. The natural motions of the +soul are so much better than the voluntary ones that you will never do +yourself justice in dispute. The thought is not then taken hold of by +the right handle, does not show itself proportioned and in its true +bearings, but bears extorted, hoarse, and half witness. But assume a +consent and it shall presently be granted, since really and underneath +their external diversities, all men are of one heart and mind. + +Wisdom will never let us stand with any man or men on an unfriendly +footing. We refuse sympathy and intimacy with people, as if we waited +for some better sympathy and intimacy to come. But whence and when? +To-morrow will be like to-day. Life wastes itself whilst we are +preparing to live. Our friends and fellow-workers die off from us. +Scarcely can we say we see new men, new women, approaching us. We are +too old to regard fashion, too old to expect patronage of any greater +or more powerful. Let us suck the sweetness of those affections and +consuetudes that grow near us. These old shoes are easy to the feet. +Undoubtedly we can easily pick faults in our company, can easily whisper +names prouder, and that tickle the fancy more. Every man's imagination +hath its friends; and life would be dearer with such companions. But if +you cannot have them on good mutual terms, you cannot have them. If +not the Deity but our ambition hews and shapes the new relations, their +virtue escapes, as strawberries lose their flavor in garden-beds. + +Thus truth, frankness, courage, love, humility and all the virtues range +themselves on the side of prudence, or the art of securing a present +well-being. I do not know if all matter will be found to be made of one +element, as oxygen or hydrogen, at last, but the world of manners and +actions is wrought of one stuff, and begin where we will we are pretty +sure in a short space to be mumbling our ten commandments. + +***** + + + + HEROISM. + + "Paradise is under the shadow of swords." + Mahomet. + + RUBY wine is drunk by knaves, + Sugar spends to fatten slaves, + Rose and vine-leaf deck buffoons; + Thunderclouds are Jove's festoons, + Drooping oft in wreaths of dread + Lightning-knotted round his head; + The hero is not fed on sweets, + Daily his own heart he eats; + Chambers of the great are jails, + And head-winds right for royal sails. + + + + +VIII. HEROISM. + +In the elder English dramatists, and mainly in the plays Of Beaumont and +Fletcher, there is a constant recognition of gentility, as if a noble +behavior were as easily marked in the society of their age as color is +in our American population. When any Rodrigo, Pedro or Valerio enters, +though he be a stranger, the duke or governor exclaims, 'This is a +gentleman,--and proffers civilities without end; but all the rest are +slag and refuse. In harmony with this delight in personal advantages +there is in their plays a certain heroic cast of character and +dialogue,--as in Bonduca, Sophocles, the Mad Lover, the Double +Marriage,--wherein the speaker is so earnest and cordial and on +such deep grounds of character, that the dialogue, on the slightest +additional incident in the plot, rises naturally into poetry. Among many +texts take the following. The Roman Martius has conquered Athens,--all +but the invincible spirits of Sophocles, the duke of Athens, and +Dorigen, his wife. The beauty of the latter inflames Martius, and he +seeks to save her husband; but Sophocles will not ask his life, although +assured that a word will save him, and the execution of both proceeds:-- + + Valerius. Bid thy wife farewell. + + Soph. No, I will take no leave. My Dorigen, + Yonder, above, 'bout Ariadne's crown, + My spirit shall hover for thee. Prithee, haste. + + Dor. Stay, Sophocles,--with this tie up my sight; + Let not soft nature so transformed be, + And lose her gentler sexed humanity, + To make me see my lord bleed. So, 'tis well; + Never one object underneath the sun + Will I behold before my Sophocles: + Farewell; now teach the Romans how to die. + + Mar. Dost know what 't is to die? + + Soph. Thou dost not, Martius, + And, therefore, not what 'tis to live; to die + Is to begin to live. It is to end + An old, stale, weary work, and to commence + A newer and a better. 'Tis to leave + Deceitful knaves for the society + Of gods and goodness. Thou thyself must part + At last from all thy garlands, pleasures, triumphs, + And prove thy fortitude what then 't will do. + + Val. But art not grieved nor vexed to leave thy life thus? + + Soph. Why should I grieve or vex for being sent + To them I ever loved best? Now I'll kneel, + But with my back toward thee; 'tis the last duty + This trunk can do the gods. + + Mar. Strike, strike, Valerius, + Or Martius' heart will leap out at his mouth. + This is a man, a woman. Kiss thy lord, + And live with all the freedom you were wont. + O love! thou doubly hast afflicted me + With virtue and with beauty. Treacherous heart, + My hand shall cast thee quick into my urn, + Ere thou transgress this knot of piety. + + Val. What ails my brother? + + Soph. Martius, O Martius, + Thou now hast found a way to conquer me. + + Dor. O star of Rome! what gratitude can speak + Fit words to follow such a deed as this? + + Mar. This admirable duke, Valerius, + With his disdain of fortune and of death, + Captived himself, has captivated me, + And though my arm hath ta'en his body here, + His soul hath subjugated Martius' soul. + By Romulus, he is all soul, I think; + He hath no flesh, and spirit cannot be gyved; + Then we have vanquished nothing; he is free, + And Martius walks now in captivity. + +I do not readily remember any poem, play, sermon, novel, or oration that +our press vents in the last few years, which goes to the same tune. We +have a great many flutes and flageolets, but not often the sound of +any fife. Yet, Wordsworth's "Laodamia," and the ode of "Dion," and some +sonnets, have a certain noble music; and Scott will sometimes draw a +stroke like the portrait of Lord Evandale given by Balfour of Burley. +Thomas Carlyle, with his natural taste for what is manly and daring in +character, has suffered no heroic trait in his favorites to drop from +his biographical and historical pictures. Earlier, Robert Burns has +given us a song or two. In the Harleian Miscellanies there is an account +of the battle of Lutzen which deserves to be read. And Simon Ockley's +History of the Saracens recounts the prodigies of individual valor, +with admiration all the more evident on the part of the narrator that he +seems to think that his place in Christian Oxford requires of him some +proper protestations of abhorrence. But if we explore the literature +of Heroism we shall quickly come to Plutarch, who is its Doctor and +historian. To him we owe the Brasidas, the Dion, the Epaminondas, the +Scipio of old, and I must think we are more deeply indebted to him than +to all the ancient writers. Each of his "Lives" is a refutation to the +despondency and cowardice of our religious and political theorists. A +wild courage, a Stoicism not of the schools but of the blood, shines in +every anecdote, and has given that book its immense fame. + +We need books of this tart cathartic virtue more than books of political +science or of private economy. Life is a festival only to the wise. +Seen from the nook and chimney-side of prudence, it wears a ragged +and dangerous front. The violations of the laws of nature by our +predecessors and our contemporaries are punished in us also. The disease +and deformity around us certify the infraction of natural, intellectual, +and moral laws, and often violation on violation to breed such +compound misery. A lock-jaw that bends a man's head back to his heels; +hydrophobia that makes him bark at his wife and babes; insanity that +makes him eat grass; war, plague, cholera, famine, indicate a certain +ferocity in nature, which, as it had its inlet by human crime, must have +its outlet by human suffering. Unhappily no man exists who has not in +his own person become to some amount a stockholder in the sin, and so +made himself liable to a share in the expiation. + +Our culture therefore must not omit the arming of the man. Let him +hear in season that he is born into the state of war, and that the +commonwealth and his own well-being require that he should not go +dancing in the weeds of peace, but warned, self-collected and neither +defying nor dreading the thunder, let him take both reputation and life +in his hand, and, with perfect urbanity dare the gibbet and the mob by +the absolute truth of his speech and the rectitude of his behavior. + +Towards all this external evil the man within the breast assumes a +warlike attitude, and affirms his ability to cope single-handed with the +infinite army of enemies. To this military attitude of the soul we give +the name of Heroism. Its rudest form is the contempt for safety and +ease, which makes the attractiveness of war. It is a self-trust which +slights the restraints of prudence, in the plenitude of its energy and +power to repair the harms it may suffer. The hero is a mind of such +balance that no disturbances can shake his will, but pleasantly and as +it were merrily he advances to his own music, alike in frightful alarms +and in the tipsy mirth of universal dissoluteness. There is somewhat not +philosophical in heroism; there is somewhat not holy in it; it seems not +to know that other souls are of one texture with it; it has pride; it is +the extreme of individual nature. Nevertheless we must profoundly revere +it. There is somewhat in great actions which does not allow us to go +behind them. Heroism feels and never reasons, and therefore is always +right; and although a different breeding, different religion and +greater intellectual activity would have modified or even reversed the +particular action, yet for the hero that thing he does is the highest +deed, and is not open to the censure of philosophers or divines. It is +the avowal of the unschooled man that he finds a quality in him that +is negligent of expense, of health, of life, of danger, of hatred, of +reproach, and knows that his will is higher and more excellent than all +actual and all possible antagonists. + +Heroism works in contradiction to the voice of mankind and in +contradiction, for a time, to the voice of the great and good. Heroism +is an obedience to a secret impulse of an individual's character. Now to +no other man can its wisdom appear as it does to him, for every man must +be supposed to see a little farther on his own proper path than any one +else. Therefore just and wise men take umbrage at his act, until after +some little time be past: then they see it to be in unison with their +acts. All prudent men see that the action is clean contrary to a sensual +prosperity; for every heroic act measures itself by its contempt of +some external good. But it finds its own success at last, and then the +prudent also extol. + +Self-trust is the essence of heroism. It is the state of the soul at +war, and its ultimate objects are the last defiance of falsehood and +wrong, and the power to bear all that can be inflicted by evil agents. +It speaks the truth and it is just, generous, hospitable, temperate, +scornful of petty calculations and scornful of being scorned. It +persists; it is of an undaunted boldness and of a fortitude not to +be wearied out. Its jest is the littleness of common life. That false +prudence which dotes on health and wealth is the butt and merriment of +heroism. Heroism, like Plotinus, is almost ashamed of its body. What +shall it say then to the sugar-plums and cats'-cradles, to the toilet, +compliments, quarrels, cards and custard, which rack the wit of all +society? What joys has kind nature provided for us dear creatures! There +seems to be no interval between greatness and meanness. When the spirit +is not master of the world, then it is its dupe. Yet the little +man takes the great hoax so innocently, works in it so headlong and +believing, is born red, and dies gray, arranging his toilet, attending +on his own health, laying traps for sweet food and strong wine, setting +his heart on a horse or a rifle, made happy with a little gossip or +a little praise, that the great soul cannot choose but laugh at such +earnest nonsense. "Indeed, these humble considerations make me out of +love with greatness. What a disgrace is it to me to take note how many +pairs of silk stockings thou hast, namely, these and those that were the +peach-colored ones; or to bear the inventory of thy shirts, as one for +superfluity, and one other for use!" + +Citizens, thinking after the laws of arithmetic, consider the +inconvenience of receiving strangers at their fireside, reckon narrowly +the loss of time and the unusual display; the soul of a better quality +thrusts back the unseasonable economy into the vaults of life, and says, +I will obey the God, and the sacrifice and the fire he will provide. +Ibn Hankal, the Arabian geographer, describes a heroic extreme in the +hospitality of Sogd, in Bukharia. "When I was in Sogd I saw a great +building, like a palace, the gates of which were open and fixed back +to the wall with large nails. I asked the reason, and was told that the +house had not been shut, night or day, for a hundred years. Strangers +may present themselves at any hour and in whatever number; the master +has amply provided for the reception of the men and their animals, and +is never happier than when they tarry for some time. Nothing of the kind +have I seen in any other country." The magnanimous know very well that +they who give time, or money, or shelter, to the stranger,--so it be +done for love and not for ostentation,--do, as it were, put God under +obligation to them, so perfect are the compensations of the universe. In +some way the time they seem to lose is redeemed and the pains they seem +to take remunerate themselves. These men fan the flame of human love and +raise the standard of civil virtue among mankind. But hospitality must +be for service and not for show, or it pulls down the host. The brave +soul rates itself too high to value itself by the splendor of its table +and draperies. It gives what it hath, and all it hath, but its own +majesty can lend a better grace to bannocks and fair water than belong +to city feasts. + +The temperance of the hero proceeds from the same wish to do no dishonor +to the worthiness he has. But he loves it for its elegancy, not for its +austerity. It seems not worth his while to be solemn and denounce with +bitterness flesh-eating or wine-drinking, the use of tobacco, or opium, +or tea, or silk, or gold. A great man scarcely knows how he dines, how +he dresses; but without railing or precision his living is natural +and poetic. John Eliot, the Indian Apostle, drank water, and said of +wine,--"It is a noble, generous liquor and we should be humbly thankful +for it, but, as I remember, water was made before it." Better still is +the temperance of King David, who poured out on the ground unto the Lord +the water which three of his warriors had brought him to drink, at the +peril of their lives. + +It is told of Brutus, that when he fell on his sword after the battle +of Philippi, he quoted a line of Euripides,--"O Virtue! I have followed +thee through life, and I find thee at last but a shade." I doubt not +the hero is slandered by this report. The heroic soul does not sell its +justice and its nobleness. It does not ask to dine nicely and to sleep +warm. The essence of greatness is the perception that virtue is enough. +Poverty is its ornament. It does not need plenty, and can very well +abide its loss. + +But that which takes my fancy most in the heroic class, is the +good-humor and hilarity they exhibit. It is a height to which common +duty can very well attain, to suffer and to dare with solemnity. But +these rare souls set opinion, success, and life at so cheap a rate that +they will not soothe their enemies by petitions, or the show of sorrow, +but wear their own habitual greatness. Scipio, charged with peculation, +refuses to do himself so great a disgrace as to wait for justification, +though he had the scroll of his accounts in his hands, but tears it to +pieces before the tribunes. Socrates's condemnation of himself to be +maintained in all honor in the Prytaneum, during his life, and Sir +Thomas More's playfulness at the scaffold, are of the same strain. In +Beaumont and Fletcher's "Sea Voyage," Juletta tells the stout captain +and his company,-- + + Jul. Why, slaves, 'tis in our power to hang ye. + Master. Very likely, + 'Tis in our powers, then, to be hanged, and scorn ye. + +These replies are sound and whole. Sport is the bloom and glow of +a perfect health. The great will not condescend to take any thing +seriously; all must be as gay as the song of a canary, though it were +the building of cities or the eradication of old and foolish churches +and nations which have cumbered the earth long thousands of years. +Simple hearts put all the history and customs of this world behind them, +and play their own game in innocent defiance of the Blue-Laws of the +world; and such would appear, could we see the human race assembled in +vision, like little children frolicking together, though to the eyes +of mankind at large they wear a stately and solemn garb of works and +influences. + +The interest these fine stories have for us, the power of a romance over +the boy who grasps the forbidden book under his bench at school, our +delight in the hero, is the main fact to our purpose. All these great +and transcendent properties are ours. If we dilate in beholding the +Greek energy, the Roman pride, it is that we are already domesticating +the same sentiment. Let us find room for this great guest in our small +houses. The first step of worthiness will be to disabuse us of our +superstitious associations with places and times, with number and size. +Why should these words, Athenian, Roman, Asia and England, so tingle in +the ear? Where the heart is, there the muses, there the gods sojourn, +and not in any geography of fame. Massachusetts, Connecticut River and +Boston Bay you think paltry places, and the ear loves names of foreign +and classic topography. But here we are; and, if we will tarry a little, +we may come to learn that here is best. See to it only that thyself is +here, and art and nature, hope and fate, friends, angels and the +Supreme Being shall not be absent from the chamber where thou sittest. +Epaminondas, brave and affectionate, does not seem to us to need Olympus +to die upon, nor the Syrian sunshine. He lies very well where he is. The +Jerseys were handsome ground enough for Washington to tread, and London +streets for the feet of Milton. A great man makes his climate genial in +the imagination of men, and its air the beloved element of all delicate +spirits. That country is the fairest which is inhabited by the noblest +minds. The pictures which fill the imagination in reading the actions +of Pericles, Xenophon, Columbus, Bayard, Sidney, Hampden, teach us how +needlessly mean our life is; that we, by the depth of our living, should +deck it with more than regal or national splendor, and act on principles +that should interest man and nature in the length of our days. + +We have seen or heard of many extraordinary young men who never ripened, +or whose performance in actual life was not extraordinary. When we see +their air and mien, when we hear them speak of society, of books, of +religion, we admire their superiority; they seem to throw contempt on +our entire polity and social state; theirs is the tone of a youthful +giant who is sent to work revolutions. But they enter an active +profession and the forming Colossus shrinks to the common size of man. +The magic they used was the ideal tendencies, which always make the +Actual ridiculous; but the tough world had its revenge the moment they +put their horses of the sun to plough in its furrow. They found no +example and no companion, and their heart fainted. What then? The lesson +they gave in their first aspirations is yet true; and a better valor and +a purer truth shall one day organize their belief. Or why should a woman +liken herself to any historical woman, and think, because Sappho, or +Sevigne, or De Stael, or the cloistered souls who have had genius and +cultivation do not satisfy the imagination and the serene Themis, none +can,--certainly not she? Why not? She has a new and unattempted problem +to solve, perchance that of the happiest nature that ever bloomed. Let +the maiden, with erect soul, walk serenely on her way, accept the hint +of each new experience, search in turn all the objects that solicit her +eye, that she may learn the power and the charm of her new-born being, +which is the kindling of a new dawn in the recesses of space. The +fair girl who repels interference by a decided and proud choice of +influences, so careless of pleasing, so wilful and lofty, inspires every +beholder with somewhat of her own nobleness. The silent heart encourages +her; O friend, never strike sail to a fear! Come into port greatly, or +sail with God the seas. Not in vain you live, for every passing eye is +cheered and refined by the vision. + +The characteristic of heroism is its persistency. All men have wandering +impulses, fits and starts of generosity. But when you have chosen your +part, abide by it, and do not weakly try to reconcile yourself with the +world. The heroic cannot be the common, nor the common the heroic. Yet +we have the weakness to expect the sympathy of people in those actions +whose excellence is that they outrun sympathy and appeal to a tardy +justice. If you would serve your brother, because it is fit for you to +serve him, do not take back your words when you find that prudent people +do not commend you. Adhere to your own act, and congratulate yourself if +you have done something strange and extravagant and broken the monotony +of a decorous age. It was a high counsel that I once heard given to a +young person,--"Always do what you are afraid to do." A simple manly +character need never make an apology, but should regard its past action +with the calmness of Phocion, when he admitted that the event of the +battle was happy, yet did not regret his dissuasion from the battle. + +There is no weakness or exposure for which we cannot find consolation in +the thought--this is a part of my constitution, part of my relation +and office to my fellow-creature. Has nature covenanted with me that I +should never appear to disadvantage, never make a ridiculous figure? Let +us be generous of our dignity as well as of our money. Greatness once +and for ever has done with opinion. We tell our charities, not because +we wish to be praised for them, not because we think they have great +merit, but for our justification. It is a capital blunder; as you +discover when another man recites his charities. + +To speak the truth, even with some austerity, to live with some rigor +of temperance, or some extremes of generosity, seems to be an asceticism +which common good-nature would appoint to those who are at ease and in +plenty, in sign that they feel a brotherhood with the great multitude +of suffering men. And not only need we breathe and exercise the soul +by assuming the penalties of abstinence, of debt, of solitude, of +unpopularity,--but it behooves the wise man to look with a bold eye +into those rarer dangers which sometimes invade men, and to familiarize +himself with disgusting forms of disease, with sounds of execration, and +the vision of violent death. + +Times of heroism are generally times of terror, but the day never shines +in which this element may not work. The circumstances of man, we say, +are historically somewhat better in this country and at this hour than +perhaps ever before. More freedom exists for culture. It will not now +run against an axe at the first step out of the beaten track of opinion. +But whoso is heroic will always find crises to try his edge. Human +virtue demands her champions and martyrs, and the trial of persecution +always proceeds. It is but the other day that the brave Lovejoy gave +his breast to the bullets of a mob, for the rights of free speech and +opinion, and died when it was better not to live. + +I see not any road of perfect peace which a man can walk, but after the +counsel of his own bosom. Let him quit too much association, let him +go home much, and stablish himself in those courses he approves. The +unremitting retention of simple and high sentiments in obscure duties +is hardening the character to that temper which will work with honor, +if need be in the tumult, or on the scaffold. Whatever outrages have +happened to men may befall a man again; and very easily in a republic, +if there appear any signs of a decay of religion. Coarse slander, fire, +tar and feathers and the gibbet, the youth may freely bring home to his +mind and with what sweetness of temper he can, and inquire how fast +he can fix his sense of duty, braving such penalties, whenever it may +please the next newspaper and a sufficient number of his neighbors to +pronounce his opinions incendiary. + +It may calm the apprehension of calamity in the most susceptible heart +to see how quick a bound Nature has set to the utmost infliction of +malice. We rapidly approach a brink over which no enemy can follow us:-- + + "Let them rave: + Thou art quiet in thy grave." + +In the gloom of our ignorance of what shall be, in the hour when we are +deaf to the higher voices, who does not envy those who have seen safely +to an end their manful endeavor? Who that sees the meanness of our +politics but inly congratulates Washington that he is long already +wrapped in his shroud, and for ever safe; that he was laid sweet in +his grave, the hope of humanity not yet subjugated in him? Who does not +sometimes envy the good and brave who are no more to suffer from the +tumults of the natural world, and await with curious complacency the +speedy term of his own conversation with finite nature? And yet the love +that will be annihilated sooner than treacherous has already made death +impossible, and affirms itself no mortal but a native of the deeps of +absolute and inextinguishable being. + +***** + + + + THE OVER-SOUL. + + "BUT souls that of his own good life partake, + He loves as his own self; dear as his eye + They are to Him: He'll never them forsake: + When they shall die, then God himself shall die: + They live, they live in blest eternity." + Henry More. + + Space is ample, east and west, + But two cannot go abreast, + Cannot travel in it two: + Yonder masterful cuckoo + Crowds every egg out of the nest, + Quick or dead, except its own; + A spell is laid on sod and stone, + Night and Day 've been tampered with, + Every quality and pith + Surcharged and sultry with a power + That works its will on age and hour. + + + + +IX. THE OVER-SOUL. + +THERE is a difference between one and another hour of life in their +authority and subsequent effect. Our faith comes in moments; our vice is +habitual. Yet there is a depth in those brief moments which constrains +us to ascribe more reality to them than to all other experiences. For +this reason the argument which is always forthcoming to silence +those who conceive extraordinary hopes of man, namely the appeal to +experience, is for ever invalid and vain. We give up the past to the +objector, and yet we hope. He must explain this hope. We grant that +human life is mean, but how did we find out that it was mean? What is +the ground of this uneasiness of ours; of this old discontent? What +is the universal sense of want and ignorance, but the fine innuendo +by which the soul makes its enormous claim? Why do men feel that the +natural history of man has never been written, but he is always leaving +behind what you have said of him, and it becomes old, and books of +metaphysics worthless? The philosophy of six thousand years has not +searched the chambers and magazines of the soul. In its experiments +there has always remained, in the last analysis, a residuum it could not +resolve. Man is a stream whose source is hidden. Our being is descending +into us from we know not whence. The most exact calculator has no +prescience that somewhat incalculable may not balk the very next moment. +I am constrained every moment to acknowledge a higher origin for events +than the will I call mine. + +As with events, so is it with thoughts. When I watch that flowing river, +which, out of regions I see not, pours for a season its streams into me, +I see that I am a pensioner; not a cause, but a surprised spectator of +this ethereal water; that I desire and look up and put myself in the +attitude of reception, but from some alien energy the visions come. + +The Supreme Critic on the errors of the past and the present, and the +only prophet of that which must be, is that great nature in which we +rest as the earth lies in the soft arms of the atmosphere; that Unity, +that Over-soul, within which every man's particular being is contained +and made one with all other; that common heart of which all sincere +conversation is the worship, to which all right action is submission; +that overpowering reality which confutes our tricks and talents, and +constrains every one to pass for what he is, and to speak from his +character and not from his tongue, and which evermore tends to pass into +our thought and hand and become wisdom and virtue and power and beauty. +We live in succession, in division, in parts, in particles. Meantime +within man is the soul of the whole; the wise silence; the universal +beauty, to which every part and particle is equally related; the eternal +ONE. And this deep power in which we exist and whose beatitude is all +accessible to us, is not only self-sufficing and perfect in every hour, +but the act of seeing and the thing seen, the seer and the spectacle, +the subject and the object, are one. We see the world piece by piece, as +the sun, the moon, the animal, the tree; but the whole, of which these +are the shining parts, is the soul. Only by the vision of that Wisdom +can the horoscope of the ages be read, and by falling back on our better +thoughts, by yielding to the spirit of prophecy which is innate in every +man, we can know what it saith. Every man's words who speaks from that +life must sound vain to those who do not dwell in the same thought +on their own part. I dare not speak for it. My words do not carry its +august sense; they fall short and cold. Only itself can inspire whom +it will, and behold! their speech shall be lyrical, and sweet, and +universal as the rising of the wind. Yet I desire, even by profane +words, if I may not use sacred, to indicate the heaven of this deity and +to report what hints I have collected of the transcendent simplicity and +energy of the Highest Law. + +If we consider what happens in conversation, in reveries, in remorse, in +times of passion, in surprises, in the instructions of dreams, wherein +often we see ourselves in masquerade,--the droll disguises only +magnifying and enhancing a real element and forcing it on our distinct +notice,--we shall catch many hints that will broaden and lighten into +knowledge of the secret of nature. All goes to show that the soul in +man is not an organ, but animates and exercises all the organs; is not +a function, like the power of memory, of calculation, of comparison, but +uses these as hands and feet; is not a faculty, but a light; is not the +intellect or the will, but the master of the intellect and the will; +is the background of our being, in which they lie,--an immensity not +possessed and that cannot be possessed. From within or from behind, +a light shines through us upon things and makes us aware that we are +nothing, but the light is all. A man is the facade of a temple wherein +all wisdom and all good abide. What we commonly call man, the eating, +drinking, planting, counting man, does not, as we know him, represent +himself, but misrepresents himself. Him we do not respect, but the soul, +whose organ he is, would he let it appear through his action, would make +our knees bend. When it breathes through his intellect, it is genius; +when it breathes through his will, it is virtue; when it flows through +his affection, it is love. And the blindness of the intellect begins +when it would be something of itself. The weakness of the will begins +when the individual would be something of himself. All reform aims in +some one particular to let the soul have its way through us; in other +words, to engage us to obey. + +Of this pure nature every man is at some time sensible. Language +cannot paint it with his colors. It is too subtile. It is undefinable, +unmeasurable; but we know that it pervades and contains us. We know that +all spiritual being is in man. A wise old proverb says, "God comes to +see us without bell;" that is, as there is no screen or ceiling between +our heads and the infinite heavens, so is there no bar or wall in the +soul where man, the effect, ceases, and God, the cause, begins. The +walls are taken away. We lie open on one side to the deeps of spiritual +nature, to the attributes of God. Justice we see and know, Love, +Freedom, Power. These natures no man ever got above, but they tower over +us, and most in the moment when our interests tempt us to wound them. + +The sovereignty of this nature whereof we speak is made known by its +independency of those limitations which circumscribe us on every hand. +The soul circumscribes all things. As I have said, it contradicts all +experience. In like manner it abolishes time and space. The influence of +the senses has in most men overpowered the mind to that degree that the +walls of time and space have come to look real and insurmountable; +and to speak with levity of these limits is, in the world, the sign of +insanity. Yet time and space are but inverse measures of the force of +the soul. The spirit sports with time,-- + + "Can crowd eternity into an hour, + Or stretch an hour to eternity." + +We are often made to feel that there is another youth and age than that +which is measured from the year of our natural birth. Some thoughts +always find us young, and keep us so. Such a thought is the love of the +universal and eternal beauty. Every man parts from that contemplation +with the feeling that it rather belongs to ages than to mortal life. The +least activity of the intellectual powers redeems us in a degree from +the conditions of time. In sickness, in languor, give us a strain of +poetry or a profound sentence, and we are refreshed; or produce a volume +of Plato or Shakspeare, or remind us of their names, and instantly +we come into a feeling of longevity. See how the deep divine thought +reduces centuries and millenniums and makes itself present through all +ages. Is the teaching of Christ less effective now than it was when +first his mouth was opened? The emphasis of facts and persons in my +thought has nothing to do with time. And so always the soul's scale is +one, the scale of the senses and the understanding is another. Before +the revelations of the soul, Time, Space and Nature shrink away. In +common speech we refer all things to time, as we habitually refer the +immensely sundered stars to one concave sphere. And so we say that the +Judgment is distant or near, that the Millennium approaches, that a day +of certain political, moral, social reforms is at hand, and the +like, when we mean that in the nature of things one of the facts we +contemplate is external and fugitive, and the other is permanent and +connate with the soul. The things we now esteem fixed shall, one by one, +detach themselves like ripe fruit from our experience, and fall. The +wind shall blow them none knows whither. The landscape, the figures, +Boston, London, are facts as fugitive as any institution past, or any +whiff of mist or smoke, and so is society, and so is the world. The soul +looketh steadily forwards, creating a world before her, leaving worlds +behind her. She has no dates, nor rites, nor persons, nor specialties +nor men. The soul knows only the soul; the web of events is the flowing +robe in which she is clothed. + +After its own law and not by arithmetic is the rate of its progress to +be computed. The soul's advances are not made by gradation, such as can +be represented by motion in a straight line, but rather by ascension of +state, such as can be represented by metamorphosis,--from the egg to the +worm, from the worm to the fly. The growths of genius are of a certain +total character, that does not advance the elect individual first over +John, then Adam, then Richard, and give to each the pain of discovered +inferiority,--but by every throe of growth the man expands there where +he works, passing, at each pulsation, classes, populations, of men. With +each divine impulse the mind rends the thin rinds of the visible and +finite, and comes out into eternity, and inspires and expires its air. +It converses with truths that have always been spoken in the world, and +becomes conscious of a closer sympathy with Zeno and Arrian than with +persons in the house. + +This is the law of moral and of mental gain. The simple rise as by +specific levity not into a particular virtue, but into the region of all +the virtues. They are in the spirit which contains them all. The soul +requires purity, but purity is not it; requires justice, but justice is +not that; requires beneficence, but is somewhat better; so that there is +a kind of descent and accommodation felt when we leave speaking of moral +nature to urge a virtue which it enjoins. To the well-born child all the +virtues are natural, and not painfully acquired. Speak to his heart, and +the man becomes suddenly virtuous. + +Within the same sentiment is the germ of intellectual growth, which +obeys the same law. Those who are capable of humility, of justice, +of love, of aspiration, stand already on a platform that commands the +sciences and arts, speech and poetry, action and grace. For whoso dwells +in this moral beatitude already anticipates those special powers which +men prize so highly. The lover has no talent, no skill, which passes for +quite nothing with his enamoured maiden, however little she may possess +of related faculty; and the heart which abandons itself to the Supreme +Mind finds itself related to all its works, and will travel a royal road +to particular knowledges and powers. In ascending to this primary +and aboriginal sentiment we have come from our remote station on the +circumference instantaneously to the centre of the world, where, as in +the closet of God, we see causes, and anticipate the universe, which is +but a slow effect. + +One mode of the divine teaching is the incarnation of the spirit in a +form,--in forms, like my own. I live in society, with persons who answer +to thoughts in my own mind, or express a certain obedience to the great +instincts to which I live. I see its presence to them. I am certified of +a common nature; and these other souls, these separated selves, draw me +as nothing else can. They stir in me the new emotions we call passion; +of love, hatred, fear, admiration, pity; thence come conversation, +competition, persuasion, cities and war. Persons are supplementary +to the primary teaching of the soul. In youth we are mad for persons. +Childhood and youth see all the world in them. But the larger experience +of man discovers the identical nature appearing through them all. +Persons themselves acquaint us with the impersonal. In all conversation +between two persons tacit reference is made, as to a third party, to a +common nature. That third party or common nature is not social; it +is impersonal; is God. And so in groups where debate is earnest, and +especially on high questions, the company become aware that the thought +rises to an equal level in all bosoms, that all have a spiritual +property in what was said, as well as the sayer. They all become wiser +than they were. It arches over them like a temple, this unity of thought +in which every heart beats with nobler sense of power and duty, and +thinks and acts with unusual solemnity. All are conscious of attaining +to a higher self-possession. It shines for all. There is a certain +wisdom of humanity which is common to the greatest men with the lowest, +and which our ordinary education often labors to silence and obstruct. +The mind is one, and the best minds, who love truth for its own +sake, think much less of property in truth. They accept it thankfully +everywhere, and do not label or stamp it with any man's name, for it is +theirs long beforehand, and from eternity. The learned and the studious +of thought have no monopoly of wisdom. Their violence of direction +in some degree disqualifies them to think truly. We owe many valuable +observations to people who are not very acute or profound, and who say +the thing without effort which we want and have long been hunting in +vain. The action of the soul is oftener in that which is felt and left +unsaid than in that which is said in any conversation. It broods over +every society, and they unconsciously seek for it in each other. We know +better than we do. We do not yet possess ourselves, and we know at the +same time that we are much more. I feel the same truth how often in my +trivial conversation with my neighbors, that somewhat higher in each of +us overlooks this by-play, and Jove nods to Jove from behind each of us. + +Men descend to meet. In their habitual and mean service to the world, +for which they forsake their native nobleness, they resemble those +Arabian sheiks who dwell in mean houses and affect an external poverty, +to escape the rapacity of the Pacha, and reserve all their display of +wealth for their interior and guarded retirements. + +As it is present in all persons, so it is in every period of life. It is +adult already in the infant man. In my dealing with my child, my Latin +and Greek, my accomplishments and my money stead me nothing; but as much +soul as I have avails. If I am wilful, he sets his will against mine, +one for one, and leaves me, if I please, the degradation of beating him +by my superiority of strength. But if I renounce my will and act for the +soul, setting that up as umpire between us two, out of his young eyes +looks the same soul; he reveres and loves with me. + +The soul is the perceiver and revealer of truth. We know truth when we +see it, let skeptic and scoffer say what they choose. Foolish people +ask you, when you have spoken what they do not wish to hear, 'How do you +know it is truth, and not an error of your own?' We know truth when we +see it, from opinion, as we know when we are awake that we are awake. It +was a grand sentence of Emanuel Swedenborg, which would alone indicate +the greatness of that man's perception,--"It is no proof of a man's +understanding to be able to confirm whatever he pleases; but to be +able to discern that what is true is true, and that what is false is +false,--this is the mark and character of intelligence." In the book I +read, the good thought returns to me, as every truth will, the image +of the whole soul. To the bad thought which I find in it, the same soul +becomes a discerning, separating sword, and lops it away. We are wiser +than we know. If we will not interfere with our thought, but will act +entirely, or see how the thing stands in God, we know the particular +thing, and every thing, and every man. For the Maker of all things and +all persons stands behind us and casts his dread omniscience through us +over things. + +But beyond this recognition of its own in particular passages of the +individual's experience, it also reveals truth. And here we should +seek to reinforce ourselves by its very presence, and to speak with a +worthier, loftier strain of that advent. For the soul's communication +of truth is the highest event in nature, since it then does not give +somewhat from itself, but it gives itself, or passes into and becomes +that man whom it enlightens; or, in proportion to that truth he +receives, it takes him to itself. + +We distinguish the announcements of the soul, its manifestations of its +own nature, by the term Revelation. These are always attended by the +emotion of the sublime. For this communication is an influx of the +Divine mind into our mind. It is an ebb of the individual rivulet before +the flowing surges of the sea of life. Every distinct apprehension of +this central commandment agitates men with awe and delight. A thrill +passes through all men at the reception of new truth, or at the +performance of a great action, which comes out of the heart of nature. +In these communications the power to see is not separated from the +will to do, but the insight proceeds from obedience, and the obedience +proceeds from a joyful perception. Every moment when the individual +feels himself invaded by it is memorable. By the necessity of our +constitution a certain enthusiasm attends the individual's consciousness +of that divine presence. The character and duration of this enthusiasm +varies with the state of the individual, from an ecstasy and trance and +prophetic inspiration,--which is its rarer appearance,--to the faintest +glow of virtuous emotion, in which form it warms, like our household +fires, all the families and associations of men, and makes society +possible. A certain tendency to insanity has always attended the opening +of the religious sense in men, as if they had been "blasted with excess +of light." The trances of Socrates, the "union" of Plotinus, the +vision of Porphyry, the conversion of Paul, the aurora of Behmen, +the convulsions of George Fox and his Quakers, the illumination of +Swedenborg, are of this kind. What was in the case of these remarkable +persons a ravishment, has, in innumerable instances in common life, been +exhibited in less striking manner. Everywhere the history of religion +betrays a tendency to enthusiasm. The rapture of the Moravian and +Quietist; the opening of the internal sense of the Word, in the language +of the New Jerusalem Church; the revival of the Calvinistic churches; +the experiences of the Methodists, are varying forms of that shudder of +awe and delight with which the individual soul always mingles with the +universal soul. + +The nature of these revelations is the same; they are perceptions of the +absolute law. They are solutions of the soul's own questions. They do +not answer the questions which the understanding asks. The soul answers +never by words, but by the thing itself that is inquired after. + +Revelation is the disclosure of the soul. The popular notion of a +revelation is that it is a telling of fortunes. In past oracles of the +soul the understanding seeks to find answers to sensual questions, and +undertakes to tell from God how long men shall exist, what their hands +shall do and who shall be their company, adding names and dates and +places. But we must pick no locks. We must check this low curiosity. An +answer in words is delusive; it is really no answer to the questions +you ask. Do not require a description of the countries towards which you +sail. The description does not describe them to you, and to-morrow you +arrive there and know them by inhabiting them. Men ask concerning the +immortality of the soul, the employments of heaven, the state of the +sinner, and so forth. They even dream that Jesus has left replies to +precisely these interrogatories. Never a moment did that sublime spirit +speak in their patois. To truth, justice, love, the attributes of the +soul, the idea of immutableness is essentially associated. Jesus, living +in these moral sentiments, heedless of sensual fortunes, heeding only +the manifestations of these, never made the separation of the idea of +duration from the essence of these attributes, nor uttered a syllable +concerning the duration of the soul. It was left to his disciples to +sever duration from the moral elements, and to teach the immortality +of the soul as a doctrine, and maintain it by evidences. The moment the +doctrine of the immortality is separately taught, man is already fallen. +In the flowing of love, in the adoration of humility, there is no +question of continuance. No inspired man ever asks this question or +condescends to these evidences. For the soul is true to itself, and the +man in whom it is shed abroad cannot wander from the present, which is +infinite, to a future which would be finite. + +These questions which we lust to ask about the future are a confession +of sin. God has no answer for them. No answer in words can reply to a +question of things. It is not in an arbitrary "decree of God," but in +the nature of man, that a veil shuts down on the facts of to-morrow; for +the soul will not have us read any other cipher than that of cause and +effect. By this veil which curtains events it instructs the children +of men to live in to-day. The only mode of obtaining an answer to these +questions of the senses is to forego all low curiosity, and, accepting +the tide of being which floats us into the secret of nature, work and +live, work and live, and all unawares the advancing soul has built and +forged for itself a new condition, and the question and the answer are +one. + +By the same fire, vital, consecrating, celestial, which burns until +it shall dissolve all things into the waves and surges of an ocean of +light, we see and know each other, and what spirit each is of. Who +can tell the grounds of his knowledge of the character of the several +individuals in his circle of friends? No man. Yet their acts and words +do not disappoint him. In that man, though he knew no ill of him, he put +no trust. In that other, though they had seldom met, authentic signs +had yet passed, to signify that he might be trusted as one who had an +interest in his own character. We know each other very well,--which of +us has been just to himself and whether that which we teach or behold is +only an aspiration or is our honest effort also. + +We are all discerners of spirits. That diagnosis lies aloft in our +life or unconscious power. The intercourse of society, its trade, +its religion, its friendships, its quarrels, is one wide, judicial +investigation of character. In full court, or in small committee, or +confronted face to face, accuser and accused, men offer themselves to be +judged. Against their will they exhibit those decisive trifles by which +character is read. But who judges? and what? Not our understanding. We +do not read them by learning or craft. No; the wisdom of the wise +man consists herein, that he does not judge them; he lets them judge +themselves and merely reads and records their own verdict. + +By virtue of this inevitable nature, private will is overpowered, and, +maugre our efforts or our imperfections, your genius will speak +from you, and mine from me. That which we are, we shall teach, not +voluntarily but involuntarily. Thoughts come into our minds by avenues +which we never left open, and thoughts go out of our minds through +avenues which we never voluntarily opened. Character teaches over our +head. The infallible index of true progress is found in the tone the man +takes. Neither his age, nor his breeding, nor company, nor books, +nor actions, nor talents, nor all together can hinder him from being +deferential to a higher spirit than his own. If he have not found +his home in God, his manners, his forms of speech, the turn of +his sentences, the build, shall I say, of all his opinions will +involuntarily confess it, let him brave it out how he will. If he have +found his centre, the Deity will shine through him, through all +the disguises of ignorance, of ungenial temperament, of unfavorable +circumstance. The tone of seeking is one, and the tone of having is +another. + +The great distinction between teachers sacred or literary,--between +poets like Herbert, and poets like Pope,--between philosophers like +Spinoza, Kant and Coleridge, and philosophers like Locke, Paley, +Mackintosh and Stewart,--between men of the world who are reckoned +accomplished talkers, and here and there a fervent mystic, prophesying +half insane under the infinitude of his thought,--is that one class +speak from within, or from experience, as parties and possessors of the +fact; and the other class from without, as spectators merely, or perhaps +as acquainted with the fact on the evidence of third persons. It is of +no use to preach to me from without. I can do that too easily myself. +Jesus speaks always from within, and in a degree that transcends all +others. In that is the miracle. I believe beforehand that it ought so +to be. All men stand continually in the expectation of the appearance +of such a teacher. But if a man do not speak from within the veil, where +the word is one with that it tells of, let him lowly confess it. + +The same Omniscience flows into the intellect, and makes what we call +genius. Much of the wisdom of the world is not wisdom, and the most +illuminated class of men are no doubt superior to literary fame, and +are not writers. Among the multitude of scholars and authors, we feel no +hallowing presence; we are sensible of a knack and skill rather than of +inspiration; they have a light and know not whence it comes and call +it their own; their talent is some exaggerated faculty, some overgrown +member, so that their strength is a disease. In these instances the +intellectual gifts do not make the impression of virtue, but almost +of vice; and we feel that a man's talents stand in the way of his +advancement in truth. But genius is religious. It is a larger imbibing +of the common heart. It is not anomalous, but more like and not less +like other men. There is in all great poets a wisdom of humanity which +is superior to any talents they exercise. The author, the wit, the +partisan, the fine gentleman, does not take place of the man. Humanity +shines in Homer, in Chaucer, in Spenser, in Shakspeare, in Milton. They +are content with truth. They use the positive degree. They seem frigid +and phlegmatic to those who have been spiced with the frantic passion +and violent coloring of inferior but popular writers. For they are poets +by the free course which they allow to the informing soul, which through +their eyes beholds again and blesses the things which it hath made. +The soul is superior to its knowledge, wiser than any of its works. The +great poet makes us feel our own wealth, and then we think less of +his compositions. His best communication to our mind is to teach us to +despise all he has done. Shakspeare carries us to such a lofty strain of +intelligent activity as to suggest a wealth which beggars his own; and +we then feel that the splendid works which he has created, and which in +other hours we extol as a sort of self-existent poetry, take no stronger +hold of real nature than the shadow of a passing traveller on the rock. +The inspiration which uttered itself in Hamlet and Lear could utter +things as good from day to day for ever. Why then should I make account +of Hamlet and Lear, as if we had not the soul from which they fell as +syllables from the tongue? + +This energy does not descend into individual life on any other condition +than entire possession. It comes to the lowly and simple; it comes to +whomsoever will put off what is foreign and proud; it comes as insight; +it comes as serenity and grandeur. When we see those whom it inhabits, +we are apprised of new degrees of greatness. From that inspiration the +man comes back with a changed tone. He does not talk with men with an +eye to their opinion. He tries them. It requires of us to be plain and +true. The vain traveller attempts to embellish his life by quoting my +lord and the prince and the countess, who thus said or did to him. +The ambitious vulgar show you their spoons and brooches and rings, and +preserve their cards and compliments. The more cultivated, in their +account of their own experience, cull out the pleasing, poetic +circumstance,--the visit to Rome, the man of genius they saw, the +brilliant friend They know; still further on perhaps the gorgeous +landscape, the mountain lights, the mountain thoughts they enjoyed +yesterday,--and so seek to throw a romantic color over their life. But +the soul that ascends to worship the great God is plain and true; has no +rose-color, no fine friends, no chivalry, no adventures; does not want +admiration; dwells in the hour that now is, in the earnest experience +of the common day,--by reason of the present moment and the mere trifle +having become porous to thought and bibulous of the sea of light. + +Converse with a mind that is grandly simple, and literature looks like +word-catching. The simplest utterances are worthiest to be written, yet +are they so cheap and so things of course, that in the infinite riches +of the soul it is like gathering a few pebbles off the ground, or +bottling a little air in a phial, when the whole earth and the whole +atmosphere are ours. Nothing can pass there, or make you one of the +circle, but the casting aside your trappings, and dealing man to man in +naked truth, plain confession, and omniscient affirmation. + +Souls such as these treat you as gods would, walk as gods in the earth, +accepting without any admiration your wit, your bounty, your virtue +even,--say rather your act of duty, for your virtue they own as their +proper blood, royal as themselves, and over-royal, and the father of the +gods. But what rebuke their plain fraternal bearing casts on the mutual +flattery with which authors solace each other and wound themselves! +These flatter not. I do not wonder that these men go to see Cromwell and +Christina and Charles the Second and James the First and the Grand Turk. +For they are, in their own elevation, the fellows of kings, and must +feel the servile tone of conversation in the world. They must always be +a godsend to princes, for they confront them, a king to a king, without +ducking or concession, and give a high nature the refreshment and +satisfaction of resistance, of plain humanity, of even companionship and +of new ideas. They leave them wiser and superior men. Souls like these +make us feel that sincerity is more excellent than flattery. Deal so +plainly with man and woman as to constrain the utmost sincerity and +destroy all hope of trifling with you. It is the highest compliment you +can pay. Their "highest praising," said Milton, "is not flattery, and +their plainest advice is a kind of praising." + +Ineffable is the union of man and God in every act of the soul. The +simplest person who in his integrity worships God, becomes God; yet for +ever and ever the influx of this better and universal self is new and +unsearchable. It inspires awe and astonishment. How dear, how soothing +to man, arises the idea of God, peopling the lonely place, effacing the +scars of our mistakes and disappointments! When we have broken our god +of tradition and ceased from our god of rhetoric, then may God fire the +heart with his presence. It is the doubling of the heart itself, nay, +the infinite enlargement of the heart with a power of growth to a new +infinity on every side. It inspires in man an infallible trust. He has +not the conviction, but the sight, that the best is the true, and may in +that thought easily dismiss all particular uncertainties and fears, +and adjourn to the sure revelation of time the solution of his private +riddles. He is sure that his welfare is dear to the heart of being. +In the presence of law to his mind he is overflowed with a reliance so +universal that it sweeps away all cherished hopes and the most stable +projects of mortal condition in its flood. He believes that he cannot +escape from his good. The things that are really for thee gravitate to +thee. You are running to seek your friend. Let your feet run, but your +mind need not. If you do not find him, will you not acquiesce that it is +best you should not find him? for there is a power, which, as it is in +you, is in him also, and could therefore very well bring you together, +if it were for the best. You are preparing with eagerness to go and +render a service to which your talent and your taste invite you, the +love of men and the hope of fame. Has it not occurred to you that you +have no right to go, unless you are equally willing to be prevented from +going? O, believe, as thou livest, that every sound that is spoken over +the round world, which thou oughtest to hear, will vibrate on thine ear! +Every proverb, every book, every byword that belongs to thee for aid or +comfort, shall surely come home through open or winding passages. Every +friend whom not thy fantastic will but the great and tender heart in +thee craveth, shall lock thee in his embrace. And this because the +heart in thee is the heart of all; not a valve, not a wall, not +an intersection is there anywhere in nature, but one blood rolls +uninterruptedly an endless circulation through all men, as the water of +the globe is all one sea, and, truly seen, its tide is one. + +Let man then learn the revelation of all nature and all thought to his +heart; this, namely; that the Highest dwells with him; that the sources +of nature are in his own mind, if the sentiment of duty is there. But if +he would know what the great God speaketh, he must 'go into his closet +and shut the door,' as Jesus said. God will not make himself manifest to +cowards. He must greatly listen to himself, withdrawing himself from all +the accents of other men's devotion. Even their prayers are hurtful to +him, until he have made his own. Our religion vulgarly stands on +numbers of believers. Whenever the appeal is made,--no matter how +indirectly,--to numbers, proclamation is then and there made that +religion is not. He that finds God a sweet enveloping thought to him +never counts his company. When I sit in that presence, who shall dare +to come in? When I rest in perfect humility, when I burn with pure love, +what can Calvin or Swedenborg say? + +It makes no difference whether the appeal is to numbers or to one. The +faith that stands on authority is not faith. The reliance on authority +measures the decline of religion, the withdrawal of the soul. The +position men have given to Jesus, now for many centuries of history, is +a position of authority. It characterizes themselves. It cannot alter +the eternal facts. Great is the soul, and plain. It is no flatterer, +it is no follower; it never appeals from itself. It believes in itself. +Before the immense possibilities of man all mere experience, all past +biography, however spotless and sainted, shrinks away. Before that +heaven which our presentiments foreshow us, we cannot easily praise any +form of life we have seen or read of. We not only affirm that we have +few great men, but, absolutely speaking, that we have none; that we have +no history, no record of any character or mode of living that entirely +contents us. The saints and demigods whom history worships we are +constrained to accept with a grain of allowance. Though in our lonely +hours we draw a new strength out of their memory, yet, pressed on our +attention, as they are by the thoughtless and customary, they fatigue +and invade. The soul gives itself, alone, original and pure, to the +Lonely, Original and Pure, who, on that condition, gladly inhabits, +leads and speaks through it. Then is it glad, young and nimble. It is +not wise, but it sees through all things. It is not called religious, +but it is innocent. It calls the light its own, and feels that the grass +grows and the stone falls by a law inferior to, and dependent on, its +nature. Behold, it saith, I am born into the great, the universal mind. +I, the imperfect, adore my own Perfect. I am somehow receptive of the +great soul, and thereby I do Overlook the sun and the stars and feel +them to be the fair accidents and effects which change and pass. More +and more the surges of everlasting nature enter into me, and I become +public and human in my regards and actions. So come I to live in +thoughts and act with energies which are immortal. Thus revering the +soul, and learning, as the ancient said, that "its beauty is immense," +man will come to see that the world is the perennial miracle which the +soul worketh, and be less astonished at particular wonders; he will +learn that there is no profane history; that all history is sacred; that +the universe is represented in an atom, in a moment of time. He will +weave no longer a spotted life of shreds and patches, but he will live +with a divine unity. He will cease from what is base and frivolous in +his life and be content with all places and with any service he can +render. He will calmly front the morrow in the negligency of that trust +which carries God with it and so hath already the whole future in the +bottom of the heart. + + +***** + + + + CIRCLES. + + NATURE centres into balls, + And her proud ephemerals, + Fast to surface and outside, + Scan the profile of the sphere; + Knew they what that signified, + A new genesis were here. + + + + +X. CIRCLES. + +The eye is the first circle; the horizon which it forms is the second; +and throughout nature this primary figure is repeated without end. It is +the highest emblem in the cipher of the world. St. Augustine described +the nature of God as a circle whose centre was everywhere and its +circumference nowhere. We are all our lifetime reading the copious +sense of this first of forms. One moral we have already deduced, in +considering the circular or compensatory character of every human +action. Another analogy we shall now trace, that every action admits of +being outdone. Our life is an apprenticeship to the truth that around +every circle another can be drawn; that there is no end in nature, but +every end is a beginning; that there is always another dawn risen on +mid-noon, and under every deep a lower deep opens. + +This fact, as far as it symbolizes the moral fact of the Unattainable, +the flying Perfect, around which the hands of man can never meet, at +once the inspirer and the condemner of every success, may conveniently +serve us to connect many illustrations of human power in every +department. + +There are no fixtures in nature. The universe is fluid and volatile. +Permanence is but a word of degrees. Our globe seen by God is a +transparent law, not a mass of facts. The law dissolves the fact and +holds it fluid. Our culture is the predominance of an idea which draws +after it this train of cities and institutions. Let us rise into another +idea: they will disappear. The Greek sculpture is all melted away, as if +it had been statues of ice; here and there a solitary figure or fragment +remaining, as we see flecks and scraps of snow left in cold dells and +mountain clefts in June and July. For the genius that created it creates +now somewhat else. The Greek letters last a little longer, but are +already passing under the same sentence and tumbling into the inevitable +pit which the creation of new thought opens for all that is old. The new +continents are built out of the ruins of an old planet; the new races +fed out of the decomposition of the foregoing. New arts destroy the old. +See the investment of capital in aqueducts made useless by hydraulics; +fortifications, by gunpowder; roads and canals, by railways; sails, by +steam; steam by electricity. + +You admire this tower of granite, weathering the hurts of so many ages. +Yet a little waving hand built this huge wall, and that which builds is +better than that which is built. The hand that built can topple it down +much faster. Better than the hand and nimbler was the invisible thought +which wrought through it; and thus ever, behind the coarse effect, is a +fine cause, which, being narrowly seen, is itself the effect of a finer +cause. Every thing looks permanent until its secret is known. A rich +estate appears to women a firm and lasting fact; to a merchant, one +easily created out of any materials, and easily lost. An orchard, good +tillage, good grounds, seem a fixture, like a gold mine, or a river, to +a citizen; but to a large farmer, not much more fixed than the state +of the crop. Nature looks provokingly stable and secular, but it has +a cause like all the rest; and when once I comprehend that, will these +fields stretch so immovably wide, these leaves hang so individually +considerable? Permanence is a word of degrees. Every thing is medial. +Moons are no more bounds to spiritual power than bat-balls. + +The key to every man is his thought. Sturdy and defying though he look, +he has a helm which he obeys, which is the idea after which all his +facts are classified. He can only be reformed by showing him a new +idea which commands his own. The life of man is a self-evolving circle, +which, from a ring imperceptibly small, rushes on all sides outwards to +new and larger circles, and that without end. The extent to which this +generation of circles, wheel without wheel, will go, depends on the +force or truth of the individual soul. For it is the inert effort +of each thought, having formed itself into a circular wave of +circumstance,--as for instance an empire, rules of an art, a local +usage, a religious rite,--to heap itself on that ridge and to solidify +and hem in the life. But if the soul is quick and strong it bursts over +that boundary on all sides and expands another orbit on the great deep, +which also runs up into a high wave, with attempt again to stop and to +bind. But the heart refuses to be imprisoned; in its first and narrowest +pulses, it already tends outward with a vast force and to immense and +innumerable expansions. + +Every ultimate fact is only the first of a new series. Every general law +only a particular fact of some more general law presently to disclose +itself. There is no outside, no inclosing wall, no circumference to us. +The man finishes his story,--how good! how final! how it puts a new face +on all things! He fills the sky. Lo! on the other side rises also a man +and draws a circle around the circle we had just pronounced the outline +of the sphere. Then already is our first speaker not man, but only a +first speaker. His only redress is forthwith to draw a circle outside of +his antagonist. And so men do by themselves. The result of to-day, which +haunts the mind and cannot be escaped, will presently be abridged into +a word, and the principle that seemed to explain nature will itself be +included as one example of a bolder generalization. In the thought of +to-morrow there is a power to upheave all thy creed, all the creeds, all +the literatures of the nations, and marshal thee to a heaven which no +epic dream has yet depicted. Every man is not so much a workman in the +world as he is a suggestion of that he should be. Men walk as prophecies +of the next age. + +Step by step we scale this mysterious ladder: the steps are actions; the +new prospect is power. Every several result is threatened and judged by +that which follows. Every one seems to be contradicted by the new; it is +only limited by the new. The new statement is always hated by the old, +and, to those dwelling in the old, comes like an abyss of scepticism. +But the eye soon gets wonted to it, for the eye and it are effects of +one cause; then its innocency and benefit appear, and presently, all +its energy spent, it pales and dwindles before the revelation of the new +hour. + +Fear not the new generalization. Does the fact look crass and material, +threatening to degrade thy theory of spirit? Resist it not; it goes to +refine and raise thy theory of matter just as much. + +There are no fixtures to men, if we appeal to consciousness. Every man +supposes himself not to be fully understood; and if there is any truth +in him, if he rests at last on the divine soul, I see not how it can +be otherwise. The last chamber, the last closet, he must feel was never +opened; there is always a residuum unknown, unanalyzable. That is, every +man believes that he has a greater possibility. + +Our moods do not believe in each other. To-day I am full of thoughts and +can write what I please. I see no reason why I should not have the same +thought, the same power of expression, to-morrow. What I write, whilst I +write it, seems the most natural thing in the world; but yesterday I +saw a dreary vacuity in this direction in which now I see so much; and +a month hence, I doubt not, I shall wonder who he was that wrote so many +continuous pages. Alas for this infirm faith, this will not strenuous, +this vast ebb of a vast flow! I am God in nature; I am a weed by the +wall. + +The continual effort to raise himself above himself, to work a pitch +above his last height, betrays itself in a man's relations. We thirst +for approbation, yet cannot forgive the approver. The sweet of nature +is love; yet, if I have a friend I am tormented by my imperfections. The +love of me accuses the other party. If he were high enough to slight me, +then could I love him, and rise by my affection to new heights. A man's +growth is seen in the successive choirs of his friends. For every friend +whom he loses for truth, he gains a better. I thought as I walked in the +woods and mused on my friends, why should I play with them this game +of idolatry? I know and see too well, when not voluntarily blind, the +speedy limits of persons called high and worthy. Rich, noble and great +they are by the liberality of our speech, but truth is sad. O blessed +Spirit, whom I forsake for these, they are not thou! Every personal +consideration that we allow costs us heavenly state. We sell the thrones +of angels for a short and turbulent pleasure. + +How often must we learn this lesson? Men cease to interest us when we +find their limitations. The only sin is limitation. As soon as you +once come up with a man's limitations, it is all over with him. Has he +talents? has he enterprise? has he knowledge? It boots not. Infinitely +alluring and attractive was he to you yesterday, a great hope, a sea to +swim in; now, you have found his shores, found it a pond, and you care +not if you never see it again. + +Each new step we take in thought reconciles twenty seemingly discordant +facts, as expressions of one law. Aristotle and Plato are reckoned the +respective heads of two schools. A wise man will see that Aristotle +platonizes. By going one step farther back in thought, discordant +opinions are reconciled by being seen to be two extremes of one +principle, and we can never go so far back as to preclude a still higher +vision. + +Beware when the great God lets loose a thinker on this planet. Then all +things are at risk. It is as when a conflagration has broken out in a +great city, and no man knows what is safe, or where it will end. There +is not a piece of science but its flank may be turned to-morrow; there +is not any literary reputation, not the so-called eternal names of +fame, that may not be revised and condemned. The very hopes of man, the +thoughts of his heart, the religion of nations, the manners and morals +of mankind are all at the mercy of a new generalization. Generalization +is always a new influx of the divinity into the mind. Hence the thrill +that attends it. + +Valor consists in the power of self-recovery, so that a man cannot have +his flank turned, cannot be out-generalled, but put him where you +will, he stands. This can only be by his preferring truth to his past +apprehension of truth, and his alert acceptance of it from whatever +quarter; the intrepid conviction that his laws, his relations to +society, his Christianity, his world, may at any time be superseded and +decease. + +There are degrees in idealism. We learn first to play with it +academically, as the magnet was once a toy. Then we see in the heyday +of youth and poetry that it may be true, that it is true in gleams and +fragments. Then its countenance waxes stern and grand, and we see that +it must be true. It now shows itself ethical and practical. We learn +that God is; that he is in me; and that all things are shadows of him. +The idealism of Berkeley is only a crude statement of the idealism of +Jesus, and that again is a crude statement of the fact that all nature +is the rapid efflux of goodness executing and organizing itself. Much +more obviously is history and the state of the world at any one time +directly dependent on the intellectual classification then existing in +the minds of men. The things which are dear to men at this hour are so +on account of the ideas which have emerged on their mental horizon, and +which cause the present order of things, as a tree bears its apples. A +new degree of culture would instantly revolutionize the entire system of +human pursuits. + +Conversation is a game of circles. In conversation we pluck up the +termini which bound the common of silence on every side. The parties are +not to be judged by the spirit they partake and even express under this +Pentecost. To-morrow they will have receded from this high-water mark. +To-morrow you shall find them stooping under the old pack-saddles. Yet +let us enjoy the cloven flame whilst it glows on our walls. When each +new speaker strikes a new light, emancipates us from the oppression of +the last speaker, to oppress us with the greatness and exclusiveness of +his own thought, then yields us to another redeemer, we seem to recover +our rights, to become men. O, what truths profound and executable only +in ages and orbs, are supposed in the announcement of every truth! In +common hours, society sits cold and statuesque. We all stand waiting, +empty,--knowing, possibly, that we can be full, surrounded by mighty +symbols which are not symbols to us, but prose and trivial toys. Then +cometh the god and converts the statues into fiery men, and by a flash +of his eye burns up the veil which shrouded all things, and the meaning +of the very furniture, of cup and saucer, of chair and clock and +tester, is manifest. The facts which loomed so large in the fogs of +yesterday,--property, climate, breeding, personal beauty and the like, +have strangely changed their proportions. All that we reckoned settled +shakes and rattles; and literatures, cities, climates, religions, leave +their foundations and dance before our eyes. And yet here again see +the swift circumspection! Good as is discourse, silence is better, and +shames it. The length of the discourse indicates the distance of +thought betwixt the speaker and the hearer. If they were at a perfect +understanding in any part, no words would be necessary thereon. If at +one in all parts, no words would be suffered. + +Literature is a point outside of our hodiernal circle through which +a new one may be described. The use of literature is to afford us a +platform whence we may command a view of our present life, a purchase by +which we may move it. We fill ourselves with ancient learning, install +ourselves the best we can in Greek, in Punic, in Roman houses, only that +we may wiselier see French, English and American houses and modes of +living. In like manner we see literature best from the midst of wild +nature, or from the din of affairs, or from a high religion. The field +cannot be well seen from within the field. The astronomer must have +his diameter of the earth's orbit as a base to find the parallax of any +star. + +Therefore we value the poet. All the argument and all the wisdom is not +in the encyclopaedia, or the treatise on metaphysics, or the Body of +Divinity, but in the sonnet or the play. In my daily work I incline to +repeat my old steps, and do not believe in remedial force, in the power +of change and reform. But some Petrarch or Ariosto, filled with the new +wine of his imagination, writes me an ode or a brisk romance, full of +daring thought and action. He smites and arouses me with his shrill +tones, breaks up my whole chain of habits, and I open my eye on my own +possibilities. He claps wings to the sides of all the solid old lumber +of the world, and I am capable once more of choosing a straight path in +theory and practice. + +We have the same need to command a view of the religion of the world. We +can never see Christianity from the catechism:--from the pastures, from +a boat in the pond, from amidst the songs of wood-birds we possibly +may. Cleansed by the elemental light and wind, steeped in the sea of +beautiful forms which the field offers us, we may chance to cast a right +glance back upon biography. Christianity is rightly dear to the best +of mankind; yet was there never a young philosopher whose breeding had +fallen into the Christian church by whom that brave text of Paul's was +not specially prized:--"Then shall also the Son be subject unto Him who +put all things under him, that God may be all in all." Let the claims +and virtues of persons be never so great and welcome, the instinct of +man presses eagerly onward to the impersonal and illimitable, and gladly +arms itself against the dogmatism of bigots with this generous word out +of the book itself. + +The natural world may be conceived of as a system of concentric circles, +and we now and then detect in nature slight dislocations which apprise +us that this surface on which we now stand is not fixed, but sliding. +These manifold tenacious qualities, this chemistry and vegetation, these +metals and animals, which seem to stand there for their own sake, are +means and methods only,--are words of God, and as fugitive as other +words. Has the naturalist or chemist learned his craft, who has explored +the gravity of atoms and the elective affinities, who has not yet +discerned the deeper law whereof this is only a partial or approximate +statement, namely that like draws to like, and that the goods which +belong to you gravitate to you and need not be pursued with pains +and cost? Yet is that statement approximate also, and not final. +Omnipresence is a higher fact. Not through subtle subterranean channels +need friend and fact be drawn to their counterpart, but, rightly +considered, these things proceed from the eternal generation of the +soul. Cause and effect are two sides of one fact. + +The same law of eternal procession ranges all that we call the virtues, +and extinguishes each in the light of a better. The great man will +not be prudent in the popular sense; all his prudence will be so much +deduction from his grandeur. But it behooves each to see, when he +sacrifices prudence, to what god he devotes it; if to ease and pleasure, +he had better be prudent still; if to a great trust, he can well spare +his mule and panniers who has a winged chariot instead. Geoffrey draws +on his boots to go through the woods, that his feet may be safer from +the bite of snakes; Aaron never thinks of such a peril. In many years +neither is harmed by such an accident. Yet it seems to me that with +every precaution you take against such an evil you put yourself into +the power of the evil. I suppose that the highest prudence is the lowest +prudence. Is this too sudden a rushing from the centre to the verge +of our orbit? Think how many times we shall fall back into pitiful +calculations before we take up our rest in the great sentiment, or make +the verge of to-day the new centre. Besides, your bravest sentiment is +familiar to the humblest men. The poor and the low have their way of +expressing the last facts of philosophy as well as you. "Blessed be +nothing" and "The worse things are, the better they are" are proverbs +which express the transcendentalism of common life. + +One man's justice is another's injustice; one man's beauty another's +ugliness; one man's wisdom another's folly; as one beholds the same +objects from a higher point. One man thinks justice consists in paying +debts, and has no measure in his abhorrence of another who is very +remiss in this duty and makes the creditor wait tediously. But that +second man has his own way of looking at things; asks himself Which debt +must I pay first, the debt to the rich, or the debt to the poor? the +debt of money, or the debt of thought to mankind, of genius to nature? +For you, O broker, there is no other principle but arithmetic. For me, +commerce is of trivial import; love, faith, truth of character, the +aspiration of man, these are sacred; nor can I detach one duty, like +you, from all other duties, and concentrate my forces mechanically on +the payment of moneys. Let me live onward; you shall find that, though +slower, the progress of my character will liquidate all these debts +without injustice to higher claims. If a man should dedicate himself to +the payment of notes, would not this be injustice? Does he owe no debt +but money? And are all claims on him to be postponed to a landlord's or +a banker's? + +There is no virtue which is final; all are initial. The virtues of +society are vices of the saint. The terror of reform is the discovery +that we must cast away our virtues, or what we have always esteemed +such, into the same pit that has consumed our grosser vices:-- + + "Forgive his crimes, forgive his virtues too, + Those smaller faults, half converts to the right." + +It is the highest power of divine moments that they abolish our +contritions also. I accuse myself of sloth and unprofitableness day by +day; but when these waves of God flow into me I no longer reckon lost +time. I no longer poorly compute my possible achievement by what remains +to me of the month or the year; for these moments confer a sort of +omnipresence and omnipotence which asks nothing of duration, but sees +that the energy of the mind is commensurate with the work to be done, +without time. + +And thus, O circular philosopher, I hear some reader exclaim, you have +arrived at a fine Pyrrhonism, at an equivalence and indifferency of +all actions, and would fain teach us that if we are true, forsooth, our +crimes may be lively stones out of which we shall construct the temple +of the true God! + +I am not careful to justify myself. I own I am gladdened by seeing the +predominance of the saccharine principle throughout vegetable nature, +and not less by beholding in morals that unrestrained inundation of the +principle of good into every chink and hole that selfishness has left +open, yea into selfishness and sin itself; so that no evil is pure, nor +hell itself without its extreme satisfactions. But lest I should mislead +any when I have my own head and obey my whims, let me remind the reader +that I am only an experimenter. Do not set the least value on what I do, +or the least discredit on what I do not, as if I pretended to settle +any thing as true or false. I unsettle all things. No facts are to me +sacred; none are profane; I simply experiment, an endless seeker with no +Past at my back. + +Yet this incessant movement and progression which all things partake +could never become sensible to us but by contrast to some principle +of fixture or stability in the soul. Whilst the eternal generation of +circles proceeds, the eternal generator abides. That central life is +somewhat superior to creation, superior to knowledge and thought, +and contains all its circles. For ever it labors to create a life and +thought as Large and excellent as itself, but in vain, for that which is +made instructs how to make a better. + +Thus there is no sleep, no pause, no preservation, but all things renew, +germinate and spring. Why should we import rags and relics into the new +hour? Nature abhors the old, and old age seems the only disease; +all others run into this one. We call it by many names,--fever, +intemperance, insanity, stupidity and crime; they are all forms of old +age; they are rest, conservatism, appropriation, inertia; not newness, +not the way onward. We grizzle every day. I see no need of it. Whilst +we converse with what is above us, we do not grow old, but grow young. +Infancy, youth, receptive, aspiring, with religious eye looking upward, +counts itself nothing and abandons itself to the instruction flowing +from all sides. But the man and woman of seventy assume to know all, +they have outlived their hope, they renounce aspiration, accept the +actual for the necessary and talk down to the young. Let them, then, +become organs of the Holy Ghost; let them be lovers; let them behold +truth; and their eyes are uplifted, their wrinkles smoothed, they are +perfumed again with hope and power. This old age ought not to creep on a +human mind. In nature every moment is new; the past is always swallowed +and forgotten; the coming only is sacred. Nothing is secure but life, +transition, the energizing spirit. No love can be bound by oath or +covenant to secure it against a higher love. No truth so sublime but it +may be trivial to-morrow in the light of new thoughts. People wish to be +settled; only as far as they are unsettled is there any hope for them. + +Life is a series of surprises. We do not guess to-day the mood, the +pleasure, the power of to-morrow, when we are building up our being. Of +lower states, of acts of routine and sense, we can tell somewhat; but +the masterpieces of God, the total growths and universal movements of +the soul, he hideth; they are incalculable. I can know that truth is +divine and helpful; but how it shall help me I can have no guess, for so +to be is the sole inlet of so to know. The new position of the advancing +man has all the powers of the old, yet has them all new. It carries in +its bosom all the energies of the past, yet is itself an exhalation +of the morning. I cast away in this new moment all my once hoarded +knowledge, as vacant and vain. Now, for the first time seem I to know +any thing rightly. The simplest words,--we do not know what they mean +except when we love and aspire. + +The difference between talents and character is adroitness to keep the +old and trodden round, and power and courage to make a new road to new +and better goals. Character makes an overpowering present; a cheerful, +determined hour, which fortifies all the company by making them see that +much is possible and excellent that was not thought of. Character dulls +the impression of particular events. When we see the conqueror we do not +think much of any one battle or success. We see that we had exaggerated +the difficulty. It was easy to him. The great man is not convulsible or +tormentable; events pass over him without much impression. People say +sometimes, 'See what I have overcome; see how cheerful I am; see how +completely I have triumphed over these black events.' Not if they still +remind me of the black event. True conquest is the causing the calamity +to fade and disappear as an early cloud of insignificant result in a +history so large and advancing. + +The one thing which we seek with insatiable desire is to forget +ourselves, to be surprised out of our propriety, to lose our sempiternal +memory and to do something without knowing how or why; in short to draw +a new circle. Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm. The +way of life is wonderful; it is by abandonment. The great moments of +history are the facilities of performance through the strength of ideas, +as the works of genius and religion. "A man," said Oliver Cromwell, "never +rises so high as when he knows not whither he is going." Dreams +and drunkenness, the use of opium and alcohol are the semblance +and counterfeit of this oracular genius, and hence their dangerous +attraction for men. For the like reason they ask the aid of wild +passions, as in gaming and war, to ape in some manner these flames and +generosities of the heart. + +***** + + + + INTELLECT. + + GO, speed the stars of Thought + On to their shining goals;-- + The sower scatters broad his seed, + The wheat thou strew'st be souls. + + + + +XI. INTELLECT. + +Every substance is negatively electric to that which stands above it +in the chemical tables, positively to that which stands below it. Water +dissolves wood and iron and salt; air dissolves water; electric fire +dissolves air, but the intellect dissolves fire, gravity, laws, +method, and the subtlest unnamed relations of nature in its +resistless menstruum. Intellect lies behind genius, which is intellect +constructive. Intellect is the simple power anterior to all action or +construction. Gladly would I unfold in calm degrees a natural history +of the intellect, but what man has yet been able to mark the steps and +boundaries of that transparent essence? The first questions are always +to be asked, and the wisest doctor is gravelled by the inquisitiveness +of a child. How can we speak of the action of the mind under any +divisions, as of its knowledge, of its ethics, of its works, and so +forth, since it melts will into perception, knowledge into act? Each +becomes the other. Itself alone is. Its vision is not like the vision of +the eye, but is union with the things known. + +Intellect and intellection signify to the common ear consideration of +abstract truth. The considerations of time and place, of you and me, of +profit and hurt tyrannize over most men's minds. Intellect separates the +fact considered, from you, from all local and personal reference, and +discerns it as if it existed for its own sake. Heraclitus looked upon +the affections as dense and colored mists. In the fog of good and +evil affections it is hard for man to walk forward in a straight line. +Intellect is void of affection and sees an object as it stands in the +light of science, cool and disengaged. The intellect goes out of the +individual, floats over its own personality, and regards it as a fact, +and not as I and mine. He who is immersed in what concerns person or +place cannot see the problem of existence. This the intellect always +ponders. Nature shows all things formed and bound. The intellect pierces +the form, overleaps the wall, detects intrinsic likeness between remote +things and reduces all things into a few principles. + +The making a fact the subject of thought raises it. All that mass of +mental and moral phenomena which we do not make objects of voluntary +thought, come within the power of fortune; they constitute the +circumstance of daily life; they are subject to change, to fear, and +hope. Every man beholds his human condition with a degree of melancholy. +As a ship aground is battered by the waves, so man, imprisoned in mortal +life, lies open to the mercy of coming events. But a truth, separated by +the intellect, is no longer a subject of destiny. We behold it as a god +upraised above care and fear. And so any fact in our life, or any +record of our fancies or reflections, disentangled from the web of our +unconsciousness, becomes an object impersonal and immortal. It is the +past restored, but embalmed. A better art than that of Egypt has taken +fear and corruption out of it. It is eviscerated of care. It is offered +for science. What is addressed to us for contemplation does not threaten +us but makes us intellectual beings. + +The growth of the intellect is spontaneous in every expansion. The mind +that grows could not predict the times, the means, the mode of that +spontaneity. God enters by a private door into every individual. Long +prior to the age of reflection is the thinking of the mind. Out of +darkness it came insensibly into the marvellous light of to-day. In the +period of infancy it accepted and disposed of all impressions from the +surrounding creation after its own way. Whatever any mind doth or saith +is after a law; and this native law remains over it after it has come to +reflection or conscious thought. In the most worn, pedantic, introverted +self-tormenter's life, the greatest part is incalculable by him, +unforeseen, unimaginable, and must be, until he can take himself up by +his own ears. What am I? What has my will done to make me that I +am? Nothing. I have been floated into this thought, this hour, this +connection of events, by secret currents of might and mind, and my +ingenuity and wilfulness have not thwarted, have not aided to an +appreciable degree. + +Our spontaneous action is always the best. You cannot with your best +deliberation and heed come so close to any question as your spontaneous +glance shall bring you, whilst you rise from your bed, or walk abroad +in the morning after meditating the matter before sleep on the previous +night. Our thinking is a pious reception. Our truth of thought is +therefore vitiated as much by too violent direction given by our will, +as by too great negligence. We do not determine what we will think. +We only open our senses, clear away as we can all obstruction from the +fact, and suffer the intellect to see. We have little control over our +thoughts. We are the prisoners of ideas. They catch us up for moments +into their heaven and so fully engage us that we take no thought for the +morrow, gaze like children, without an effort to make them our own. By +and by we fall out of that rapture, bethink us where we have been, what +we have seen, and repeat as truly as we can what we have beheld. As +far as we can recall these ecstasies we carry away in the ineffaceable +memory the result, and all men and all the ages confirm it. It is called +Truth. But the moment we cease to report and attempt to correct and +contrive, it is not truth. + +If we consider what persons have stimulated and profited us, we shall +perceive the superiority of the spontaneous or intuitive principle over +the arithmetical or logical. The first contains the second, but virtual +and latent. We want in every man a long logic; we cannot pardon the +absence of it, but it must not be spoken. Logic is the procession or +proportionate unfolding of the intuition; but its virtue is as silent +method; the moment it would appear as propositions and have a separate +value it is worthless. + +In every man's mind, some images, words and facts remain, without effort +on his part to imprint them, which others forget, and afterwards these +illustrate to him important laws. All our progress is an unfolding, like +the vegetable bud. You have first an instinct, then an opinion, then a +knowledge, as the plant has root, bud and fruit. Trust the instinct to +the end, though you can render no reason. It is vain to hurry it. By +trusting it to the end, it shall ripen into truth and you shall know why +you believe. + +Each mind has its own method. A true man never acquires after college +rules. What you have aggregated in a natural manner surprises and +delights when it is produced. For we cannot oversee each other's +secret. And hence the differences between men in natural endowment are +insignificant in comparison with their common wealth. Do you think the +porter and the cook have no anecdotes, no experiences, no wonders for +you? Every body knows as much as the savant. The walls of rude minds are +scrawled all over with facts, with thoughts. They shall one day bring a +lantern and read the inscriptions. Every man, in the degree in which he +has wit and culture, finds his curiosity inflamed concerning the modes +of living and thinking of other men, and especially of those classes +whose minds have not been subdued by the drill of school education. + +This instinctive action never ceases in a healthy mind, but becomes +richer and more frequent in its informations through all states of +culture. At last comes the era of reflection, when we not only observe, +but take pains to observe; when we of set purpose sit down to consider +an abstract truth; when we keep the mind's eye open whilst we converse, +whilst we read, whilst we act, intent to learn the secret law of some +class of facts. + +What is the hardest task in the world? To think. I would put myself +in the attitude to look in the eye an abstract truth, and I cannot. I +blench and withdraw on this side and on that. I seem to know what he +meant who said, No man can see God face to face and live. For example, +a man explores the basis of civil government. Let him intend his mind +without respite, without rest, in one direction. His best heed long time +avails him nothing. Yet thoughts are flitting before him. We all but +apprehend, we dimly forebode the truth. We say I will walk abroad, and +the truth will take form and clearness to me. We go forth, but cannot +find it. It seems as if we needed only the stillness and composed +attitude of the library to seize the thought. But we come in, and are as +far from it as at first. Then, in a moment, and unannounced, the truth +appears. A certain wandering light appears, and is the distinction, the +principle, we wanted. But the oracle comes because we had previously +laid siege to the shrine. It seems as if the law of the intellect +resembled that law of nature by which we now inspire, now expire the +breath; by which the heart now draws in, then hurls out the blood,--the +law of undulation. So now you must labor with your brains, and now you +must forbear your activity and see what the great Soul showeth. + +The immortality of man is as legitimately preached from the +intellections as from the moral volitions. Every intellection is mainly +prospective. Its present value is its least. Inspect what delights +you in Plutarch, in Shakspeare, in Cervantes. Each truth that a writer +acquires is a lantern, which he turns full on what facts and thoughts +lay already in his mind, and behold, all the mats and rubbish which had +littered his garret become precious. Every trivial fact in his private +biography becomes an illustration of this new principle, revisits the +day, and delights all men by its piquancy and new charm. Men say, Where +did he get this? and think there was something divine in his life. But +no; they have myriads of facts just as good, would they only get a lamp +to ransack their attics withal. + +We are all wise. The difference between persons is not in wisdom but in +art. I knew, in an academical club, a person who always deferred to +me; who, seeing my whim for writing, fancied that my experiences had +somewhat superior; whilst I saw that his experiences were as good as +mine. Give them to me and I would make the same use of them. He held the +old; he holds the new; I had the habit of tacking together the old and +the new which he did not use to exercise. This may hold in the great +examples. Perhaps if we should meet Shakspeare we should not be +conscious of any steep inferiority; no, but of a great equality,--only +that he possessed a strange skill of using, of classifying, his facts, +which we lacked. For notwithstanding our utter incapacity to produce +anything like Hamlet and Othello, see the perfect reception this wit and +immense knowledge of life and liquid eloquence find in us all. + +If you gather apples in the sunshine, or make hay, or hoe corn, and then +retire within doors and shut your eyes and press them with your hand, +you shall still see apples hanging in the bright light with boughs and +leaves thereto, or the tasselled grass, or the corn-flags, and this for +five or six hours afterwards. There lie the impressions on the retentive +organ, though you knew it not. So lies the whole series of natural +images with which your life has made you acquainted, in your memory, +though you know it not; and a thrill of passion flashes light on their +dark chamber, and the active power seizes instantly the fit image, as +the word of its momentary thought. + +It is long ere we discover how rich we are. Our history, we are sure, +is quite tame: we have nothing to write, nothing to infer. But our wiser +years still run back to the despised recollections of childhood, and +always we are fishing up some wonderful article out of that pond; until +by and by we begin to suspect that the biography of the one foolish +person we know is, in reality, nothing less than the miniature +paraphrase of the hundred volumes of the Universal History. + +In the intellect constructive, which we popularly designate by the word +Genius, we observe the same balance of two elements as in intellect +receptive. The constructive intellect produces thoughts, sentences, +poems, plans, designs, systems. It is the generation of the mind, the +marriage of thought with nature. To genius must always go two gifts, the +thought and the publication. The first is revelation, always a +miracle, which no frequency of occurrence or incessant study can ever +familiarize, but which must always leave the inquirer stupid with +wonder. It is the advent of truth into the world, a form of thought +now for the first time bursting into the universe, a child of the old +eternal soul, a piece of genuine and immeasurable greatness. It seems, +for the time, to inherit all that has yet existed and to dictate to +the unborn. It affects every thought of man and goes to fashion every +institution. But to make it available it needs a vehicle or art by which +it is conveyed to men. To be communicable it must become picture or +sensible object. We must learn the language of facts. The most wonderful +inspirations die with their subject if he has no hand to paint them to +the senses. The ray of light passes invisible through space and only +when it falls on an object is it seen. When the spiritual energy is +directed on something outward, then it is a thought. The relation +between it and you first makes you, the value of you, apparent to me. +The rich inventive genius of the painter must be smothered and lost +for want of the power of drawing, and in our happy hours we should be +inexhaustible poets if once we could break through the silence into +adequate rhyme. As all men have some access to primary truth, so all +have some art or power of communication in their head, but only in the +artist does it descend into the hand. There is an inequality, whose laws +we do not yet know, between two men and between two moments of the same +man, in respect to this faculty. In common hours we have the same facts +as in the uncommon or inspired, but they do not sit for their portraits; +they are not detached, but lie in a web. The thought of genius is +spontaneous; but the power of picture or expression, in the most +enriched and flowing nature, implies a mixture of will, a certain +control over the spontaneous states, without which no production is +possible. It is a conversion of all nature into the rhetoric of thought, +under the eye of judgment, with a strenuous exercise of choice. And yet +the imaginative vocabulary seems to be spontaneous also. It does not +flow from experience only or mainly, but from a richer source. Not by +any conscious imitation of particular forms are the grand strokes of the +painter executed, but by repairing to the fountain-head of all forms in +his mind. Who is the first drawing-master? Without instruction we know +very well the ideal of the human form. A child knows if an arm or a leg +be distorted in a picture; if the attitude be natural or grand or mean; +though he has never received any instruction in drawing or heard any +conversation on the subject, nor can himself draw with correctness a +single feature. A good form strikes all eyes pleasantly, long before +they have any science on the subject, and a beautiful face sets twenty +hearts in palpitation, prior to all consideration of the mechanical +proportions of the features and head. We may owe to dreams some light +on the fountain of this skill; for as soon as we let our will go and let +the unconscious states ensue, see what cunning draughtsmen we are! We +entertain ourselves with wonderful forms of men, of women, of animals, +of gardens, of woods and of monsters, and the mystic pencil wherewith we +then draw has no awkwardness or inexperience, no meagreness or poverty; +it can design well and group well; its composition is full of art, its +colors are well laid on and the whole canvas which it paints is lifelike +and apt to touch us with terror, with tenderness, with desire and with +grief. Neither are the artist's copies from experience ever mere copies, +but always touched and softened by tints from this ideal domain. + +The conditions essential to a constructive mind do not appear to be +so often combined but that a good sentence or verse remains fresh and +memorable for a long time. Yet when we write with ease and come out into +the free air of thought, we seem to be assured that nothing is easier +than to continue this communication at pleasure. Up, down, around, the +kingdom of thought has no inclosures, but the Muse makes us free of her +city. Well, the world has a million writers. One would think then that +good thought would be as familiar as air and water, and the gifts of +each new hour would exclude the last. Yet we can count all our good +books; nay, I remember any beautiful verse for twenty years. It is true +that the discerning intellect of the world is always much in advance of +the creative, so that there are many competent judges of the best +book, and few writers of the best books. But some of the conditions of +intellectual construction are of rare occurrence. The intellect is a +whole and demands integrity in every work. This is resisted equally by +a man's devotion to a single thought and by his ambition to combine too +many. + +Truth is our element of life, yet if a man fasten his attention on a +single aspect of truth and apply himself to that alone for a long +time, the truth becomes distorted and not itself but falsehood; herein +resembling the air, which is our natural element, and the breath of +our nostrils, but if a stream of the same be directed on the body for +a time, it causes cold, fever, and even death. How wearisome the +grammarian, the phrenologist, the political or religious fanatic, or +indeed any possessed mortal whose balance is lost by the exaggeration +of a single topic. It is incipient insanity. Every thought is a prison +also. I cannot see what you see, because I am caught up by a strong +wind and blown so far in one direction that I am out of the hoop of your +horizon. + +Is it any better if the student, to avoid this offence, and to +liberalize himself, aims to make a mechanical whole of history, or +science, or philosophy, by a numerical addition of all the facts that +fall within his vision? The world refuses to be analyzed by addition and +subtraction. When we are young we spend much time and pains in filling +our note-books with all definitions of Religion, Love, Poetry, Politics, +Art, in the hope that in the course of a few years we shall have +condensed into our encyclopaedia the net value of all the theories at +which the world has yet arrived. But year after year our tables get +no completeness, and at last we discover that our curve is a parabola, +whose arcs will never meet. + +Neither by detachment neither by aggregation is the integrity of the +intellect transmitted to its works, but by a vigilance which brings the +intellect in its greatness and best state to operate every moment. It +must have the same wholeness which nature has. Although no diligence can +rebuild the universe in a model by the best accumulation or disposition +of details, yet does the world reappear in miniature in every event, +so that all the laws of nature may be read in the smallest fact. The +intellect must have the like perfection in its apprehension and in its +works. For this reason, an index or mercury of intellectual proficiency +is the perception of identity. We talk with accomplished persons who +appear to be strangers in nature. The cloud, the tree, the turf, the +bird are not theirs, have nothing of them; the world is only their +lodging and table. But the poet, whose verses are to be spheral +and complete, is one whom Nature cannot deceive, whatsoever face of +strangeness she may put on. He feels a strict consanguinity, and detects +more likeness than variety in all her changes. We are stung by the +desire for new thought; but when we receive a new thought it is only the +old thought with a new face, and though we make it our own we instantly +crave another; we are not really enriched. For the truth was in us +before it was reflected to us from natural objects; and the profound +genius will cast the likeness of all creatures into every product of his +wit. + +But if the constructive powers are rare and it is given to few men to +be poets, yet every man is a receiver of this descending holy ghost, +and may well study the laws of its influx. Exactly parallel is the whole +rule of intellectual duty to the rule of moral duty. A self-denial +no less austere than the saint's is demanded of the scholar. He must +worship truth, and forego all things for that, and choose defeat and +pain, so that his treasure in thought is thereby augmented. + +God offers to every mind its choice between truth and repose. Take which +you please,--you can never have both. Between these, as a pendulum, man +oscillates. He in whom the love of repose predominates will accept +the first creed, the first philosophy, the first political party +he meets,--most likely his father's. He gets rest, commodity, and +reputation; but he shuts the door of truth. He in whom the love of truth +predominates will keep himself aloof from all moorings, and afloat. He +will abstain from dogmatism, and recognize all the opposite negations +between which, as walls, his being is swung. He submits to the +inconvenience of suspense and imperfect opinion, but he is a candidate +for truth, as the other is not, and respects the highest law of his +being. + +The circle of the green earth he must measure with his shoes to find the +man who can yield him truth. He shall then know that there is somewhat +more blessed and great in hearing than in speaking. Happy is the hearing +man; unhappy the speaking man. As long as I hear truth I am bathed by a +beautiful element and am not conscious of any limits to my nature. The +suggestions are thousandfold that I hear and see. The waters of the +great deep have ingress and egress to the soul. But if I speak, I +define, I confine and am less. When Socrates speaks, Lysis and Menexenus +are afflicted by no shame that they do not speak. They also are good. +He likewise defers to them, loves them, whilst he speaks. Because a true +and natural man contains and is the same truth which an eloquent man +articulates; but in the eloquent man, because he can articulate it, +it seems something the less to reside, and he turns to these silent +beautiful with the more inclination and respect. The ancient sentence +said, Let us be silent, for so are the gods. Silence is a solvent that +destroys personality, and gives us leave to be great and universal. +Every man's progress is through a succession of teachers, each of whom +seems at the time to have a superlative influence, but it at last gives +place to a new. Frankly let him accept it all. Jesus says, Leave father, +mother, house and lands, and follow me. Who leaves all, receives more. +This is as true intellectually as morally. Each new mind we approach +seems to require an abdication of all our past and present possessions. +A new doctrine seems at first a subversion of all our opinions, tastes, +and manner of living. Such has Swedenborg, such has Kant, such has +Coleridge, such has Hegel or his interpreter Cousin seemed to many young +men in this country. Take thankfully and heartily all they can give. +Exhaust them, wrestle with them, let them not go until their blessing be +won, and after a short season the dismay will be overpast, the excess of +influence withdrawn, and they will be no longer an alarming meteor, but +one more bright star shining serenely in your heaven and blending its +light with all your day. + +But whilst he gives himself up unreservedly to that which draws him, +because that is his own, he is to refuse himself to that which draws him +not, whatsoever fame and authority may attend it, because it is not +his own. Entire self-reliance belongs to the intellect. One soul is a +counterpoise of all souls, as a capillary column of water is a balance +for the sea. It must treat things and books and sovereign genius as +itself also a sovereign. If Aeschylus be that man he is taken for, he +has not yet done his office when he has educated the learned of Europe +for a thousand years. He is now to approve himself a master of delight +to me also. If he cannot do that, all his fame shall avail him nothing +with me. I were a fool not to sacrifice a thousand Aeschyluses to my +intellectual integrity. Especially take the same ground in regard to +abstract truth, the science of the mind. The Bacon, the Spinoza, the +Hume, Schelling, Kant, or whosoever propounds to you a philosophy of +the mind, is only a more or less awkward translator of things in +your consciousness which you have also your way of seeing, perhaps of +denominating. Say then, instead of too timidly poring into his +obscure sense, that he has not succeeded in rendering back to you your +consciousness. He has not succeeded; now let another try. If Plato +cannot, perhaps Spinoza will. If Spinoza cannot, then perhaps Kant. +Anyhow, when at last it is done, you will find it is no recondite, but a +simple, natural, common state which the writer restores to you. + +But let us end these didactics. I will not, though the subject might +provoke it, speak to the open question between Truth and Love. I +shall not presume to interfere in the old politics of the skies;--"The +cherubim know most; the seraphim love most." The gods shall settle +their own quarrels. But I cannot recite, even thus rudely, laws of the +intellect, without remembering that lofty and sequestered class of men +who have been its prophets and oracles, the high-priesthood of the pure +reason, the Trismegisti, the expounders of the principles of thought +from age to age. When at long intervals we turn over their abstruse +pages, wonderful seems the calm and grand air of these few, these +great spiritual lords who have walked in the world,--these of the +old religion,--dwelling in a worship which makes the sanctities of +Christianity look parvenues and popular; for "persuasion is in soul, but +necessity is in intellect." This band of grandees, Hermes, Heraclitus, +Empedocles, Plato, Plotinus, Olympiodorus, Proclus, Synesius and +the rest, have somewhat so vast in their logic, so primary in their +thinking, that it seems antecedent to all the ordinary distinctions of +rhetoric and literature, and to be at once poetry and music and dancing +and astronomy and mathematics. I am present at the sowing of the seed of +the world. With a geometry of sunbeams the soul lays the foundations of +nature. The truth and grandeur of their thought is proved by its scope +and applicability, for it commands the entire schedule and inventory of +things for its illustration. But what marks its elevation and has even +a comic look to us, is the innocent serenity with which these babe-like +Jupiters sit in their clouds, and from age to age prattle to each other +and to no contemporary. Well assured that their speech is intelligible +and the most natural thing in the world, they add thesis to thesis, +without a moment's heed of the universal astonishment of the human race +below, who do not comprehend their plainest argument; nor do they +ever relent so much as to insert a popular or explaining sentence, +nor testify the least displeasure or petulance at the dulness of their +amazed auditory. The angels are so enamored of the language that is +spoken in heaven that they will not distort their lips with the hissing +and unmusical dialects of men, but speak their own, whether there be any +who understand it or not. + +***** + + + + ART. + + GIVE to barrows trays and pans + Grace and glimmer of romance, + Bring the moonlight into noon + Hid in gleaming piles of stone; + On the city's paved street + Plant gardens lined with lilac sweet, + Let spouting fountains cool the air, + Singing in the sun-baked square. + Let statue, picture, park and hall, + Ballad, flag and festival, + The past restore, the day adorn + And make each morrow a new morn + So shall the drudge in dusty frock + Spy behind the city clock + Retinues of airy kings, + Skirts of angels, starry wings, + His fathers shining in bright fables, + His children fed at heavenly tables. + 'Tis the privilege of Art + Thus to play its cheerful part, + Man in Earth to acclimate + And bend the exile to his fate, + And, moulded of one element + With the days and firmament, + Teach him on these as stairs to climb + And live on even terms with Time; + Whilst upper life the slender rill + Of human sense doth overfill. + + + + +XII. ART. + +Because the soul is progressive, it never quite repeats itself, but +in every act attempts the production of a new and fairer whole. This +appears in works both of the useful and the fine arts, if we employ the +popular distinction of works according to their aim either at use or +beauty. Thus in our fine arts, not imitation but creation is the aim. In +landscapes the painter should give the suggestion of a fairer creation +than we know. The details, the prose of nature he should omit and give +us only the spirit and splendor. He should know that the landscape has +beauty for his eye because it expresses a thought which is to him good; +and this because the same power which sees through his eyes is seen in +that spectacle; and he will come to value the expression of nature and +not nature itself, and so exalt in his copy the features that please +him. He will give the gloom of gloom and the sunshine of sunshine. In a +portrait he must inscribe the character and not the features, and must +esteem the man who sits to him as himself only an imperfect picture or +likeness of the aspiring original within. + +What is that abridgment and selection we observe in all spiritual +activity, but itself the creative impulse? for it is the inlet of that +higher illumination which teaches to convey a larger sense by simpler +symbols. What is a man but nature's finer success in self-explication? +What is a man but a finer and compacter landscape than the horizon +figures,--nature's eclecticism? and what is his speech, his love of +painting, love of nature, but a still finer success,--all the weary +miles and tons of space and bulk left out, and the spirit or moral of +it contracted into a musical word, or the most cunning stroke of the +pencil? + +But the artist must employ the symbols in use in his day and nation +to convey his enlarged sense to his fellow-men. Thus the new in art +is always formed out of the old. The Genius of the Hour sets his +ineffaceable seal on the work and gives it an inexpressible charm +for the imagination. As far as the spiritual character of the period +overpowers the artist and finds expression in his work, so far it will +retain a certain grandeur, and will represent to future beholders the +Unknown, the Inevitable, the Divine. No man can quite exclude this +element of Necessity from his labor. No man can quite emancipate himself +from his age and country, or produce a model in which the education, +the religion, the politics, usages and arts of his times shall have no +share. Though he were never so original, never so wilful and fantastic, +he cannot wipe out of his work every trace of the thoughts amidst which +it grew. The very avoidance betrays the usage he avoids. Above his will +and out of his sight he is necessitated by the air he breathes and the +idea on which he and his contemporaries live and toil, to share the +manner of his times, without knowing what that manner is. Now that which +is inevitable in the work has a higher charm than individual talent can +ever give, inasmuch as the artist's pen or chisel seems to have been +held and guided by a gigantic hand to inscribe a line in the history +of the human race. This circumstance gives a value to the Egyptian +hieroglyphics, to the Indian, Chinese and Mexican idols, however gross +and shapeless. They denote the height of the human soul in that hour, +and were not fantastic, but sprung from a necessity as deep as the +world. Shall I now add that the whole extant product of the plastic +arts has herein its highest value, as history; as a stroke drawn in +the portrait of that fate, perfect and beautiful, according to whose +ordinations all beings advance to their beatitude? + +Thus, historically viewed, it has been the office of art to educate the +perception of beauty. We are immersed in beauty, but our eyes have no +clear vision. It needs, by the exhibition of single traits, to assist +and lead the dormant taste. We carve and paint, or we behold what is +carved and painted, as students of the mystery of Form. The virtue of +art lies in detachment, in sequestering one object from the embarrassing +variety. Until one thing comes out from the connection of things, there +can be enjoyment, contemplation, but no thought. Our happiness and +unhappiness are unproductive. The infant lies in a pleasing trance, but +his individual character and his practical power depend on his daily +progress in the separation of things, and dealing with one at a time. +Love and all the passions concentrate all existence around a single +form. It is the habit of certain minds to give an all-excluding fulness +to the object, the thought, the word, they alight upon, and to make +that for the time the deputy of the world. These are the artists, the +orators, the leaders of society. The power to detach and to magnify by +detaching is the essence of rhetoric in the hands of the orator and +the poet. This rhetoric, or power to fix the momentary eminency of an +object,--so remarkable in Burke, in Byron, in Carlyle,--the painter and +sculptor exhibit in color and in stone. The power depends on the depth +of the artist's insight of that object he contemplates. For every object +has its roots in central nature, and may of course be so exhibited to us +as to represent the world. Therefore each work of genius is the tyrant +of the hour and concentrates attention on itself. For the time, it is +the only thing worth naming to do that,--be it a sonnet, an opera, a +landscape, a statue, an oration, the plan of a temple, of a campaign, or +of a voyage of discovery. Presently we pass to some other object, which +rounds itself into a whole as did the first; for example a well-laid +garden; and nothing seems worth doing but the laying out of gardens. I +should think fire the best thing in the world, if I were not acquainted +with air, and water, and earth. For it is the right and property of +all natural objects, of all genuine talents, of all native properties +whatsoever, to be for their moment the top of the world. A squirrel +leaping from bough to bough and making the Wood but one wide tree +for his pleasure, fills the eye not less than a lion,--is beautiful, +self-sufficing, and stands then and there for nature. A good ballad +draws my ear and heart whilst I listen, as much as an epic has done +before. A dog, drawn by a master, or a litter of pigs, satisfies and is +a reality not less than the frescoes of Angelo. From this succession +of excellent objects we learn at last the immensity of the world, +the opulence of human nature, which can run out to infinitude in any +direction. But I also learn that what astonished and fascinated me in +the first work astonished me in the second work also; that excellence of +all things is one. + +The office of painting and sculpture seems to be merely initial. The +best pictures can easily tell us their last secret. The best pictures +are rude draughts of a few of the miraculous dots and lines and dyes +which make up the ever-changing "landscape with figures" amidst which +we dwell. Painting seems to be to the eye what dancing is to the limbs. +When that has educated the frame to self-possession, to nimbleness, to +grace, the steps of the dancing-master are better forgotten; so painting +teaches me the splendor of color and the expression of form, and as +I see many pictures and higher genius in the art, I see the boundless +opulence of the pencil, the indifferency in which the artist stands free +to choose out of the possible forms. If he can draw every thing, why +draw any thing? and then is my eye opened to the eternal picture which +nature paints in the street, with moving men and children, beggars and +fine ladies, draped in red and green and blue and gray; long-haired, +grizzled, white-faced, black-faced, wrinkled, giant, dwarf, expanded, +elfish,--capped and based by heaven, earth and sea. + +A gallery of sculpture teaches more austerely the same lesson. As +picture teaches the coloring, so sculpture the anatomy of form. When +I have seen fine statues and afterwards enter a public assembly, I +understand well what he meant who said, "When I have been reading Homer, +all men look like giants." I too see that painting and sculpture are +gymnastics of the eye, its training to the niceties and curiosities of +its function. There is no statue like this living man, with his infinite +advantage over all ideal sculpture, of perpetual variety. What a gallery +of art have I here! No mannerist made these varied groups and diverse +original single figures. Here is the artist himself improvising, grim +and glad, at his block. Now one thought strikes him, now another, and +with each moment he alters the whole air, attitude and expression of his +clay. Away with your nonsense of oil and easels, of marble and chisels; +except to open your eyes to the masteries of eternal art, they are +hypocritical rubbish. + +The reference of all production at last to an aboriginal Power explains +the traits common to all works of the highest art,--that they are +universally intelligible; that they restore to us the simplest states +of mind, and are religious. Since what skill is therein shown is the +reappearance of the original soul, a jet of pure light, it should +produce a similar impression to that made by natural objects. In happy +hours, nature appears to us one with art; art perfected,--the work of +genius. And the individual, in whom simple tastes and susceptibility to +all the great human influences overpower the accidents of a local and +special culture, is the best critic of art. Though we travel the world +over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us, or we find it not. +The best of beauty is a finer charm than skill in surfaces, in outlines, +or rules of art can ever teach, namely a radiation from the work of art +of human character,--a wonderful expression through stone, or canvas, or +musical sound, of the deepest and simplest attributes of our nature, +and therefore most intelligible at last to those souls which have these +attributes. In the sculptures of the Greeks, in the masonry of the +Romans, and in the pictures of the Tuscan and Venetian masters, the +highest charm is the universal language they speak. A confession of +moral nature, of purity, love, and hope, breathes from them all. That +which we carry to them, the same we bring back more fairly illustrated +in the memory. The traveller who visits the Vatican, and passes from +chamber to chamber through galleries of statues, vases, sarcophagi and +candelabra, through all forms of beauty cut in the richest materials, +is in danger of forgetting the simplicity of the principles out of which +they all sprung, and that they had their origin from thoughts and laws +in his own breast. He studies the technical rules on these wonderful +remains, but forgets that these works were not always thus constellated; +that they are the contributions of many ages and many countries; that +each came out of the solitary workshop of one artist, who toiled perhaps +in ignorance of the existence of other sculpture, created his work +without other model save life, household life, and the sweet and smart +of personal relations, of beating hearts, and meeting eyes; of poverty +and necessity and hope and fear. These were his inspirations, and these +are the effects he carries home to your heart and mind. In proportion +to his force, the artist will find in his work an outlet for his proper +character. He must not be in any manner pinched or hindered by his +material, but through his necessity of imparting himself the adamant +will be wax in his hands, and will allow an adequate communication of +himself, in his full stature and proportion. He need not cumber himself +with a conventional nature and culture, nor ask what is the mode in +Rome or in Paris, but that house and weather and manner of living which +poverty and the fate of birth have made at once so odious and so dear, +in the gray unpainted wood cabin, on the corner of a New Hampshire farm, +or in the log-hut of the backwoods, or in the narrow lodging where he +has endured the constraints and seeming of a city poverty, will serve +as well as any other condition as the symbol of a thought which pours +itself indifferently through all. + +I remember when in my younger days I had heard of the wonders of Italian +painting, I fancied the great pictures would be great strangers; some +surprising combination of color and form; a foreign wonder, barbaric +pearl and gold, like the spontoons and standards of the militia, which +play such pranks in the eyes and imaginations of school-boys. I was to +see and acquire I knew not what. When I came at last to Rome and saw +with eyes the pictures, I found that genius left to novices the gay and +fantastic and ostentatious, and itself pierced directly to the simple +and true; that it was familiar and sincere; that it was the old, eternal +fact I had met already in so many forms,--unto which I lived; that it +was the plain you and me I knew so well,--had left at home in so many +conversations. I had the same experience already in a church at Naples. +There I saw that nothing was changed with me but the place, and said +to myself--'Thou foolish child, hast thou come out hither, over four +thousand miles of salt water, to find that which was perfect to thee +there at home?' That fact I saw again in the Academmia at Naples, in +the chambers of sculpture, and yet again when I came to Rome and to the +paintings of Raphael, Angelo, Sacchi, Titian, and Leonardo da Vinci. +"What, old mole! workest thou in the earth so fast?" It had travelled +by my side; that which I fancied I had left in Boston was here in +the Vatican, and again at Milan and at Paris, and made all travelling +ridiculous as a treadmill. I now require this of all pictures, that +they domesticate me, not that they dazzle me. Pictures must not be too +picturesque. Nothing astonishes men so much as common-sense and plain +dealing. All great actions have been simple, and all great pictures are. + +The Transfiguration, by Raphael, is an eminent example of this peculiar +merit. A calm benignant beauty shines over all this picture, and goes +directly to the heart. It seems almost to call you by name. The sweet +and sublime face of Jesus is beyond praise, yet how it disappoints all +florid expectations! This familiar, simple, home-speaking countenance is +as if one should meet a friend. The knowledge of picture-dealers has its +value, but listen not to their criticism when your heart is touched by +genius. It was not painted for them, it was painted for you; for such as +had eyes capable of being touched by simplicity and lofty emotions. + +Yet when we have said all our fine things about the arts, we must +end with a frank confession, that the arts, as we know them, are but +initial. Our best praise is given to what they aimed and promised, not +to the actual result. He has conceived meanly of the resources of man, +who believes that the best age of production is past. The real value +of the Iliad or the Transfiguration is as signs of power; billows or +ripples they are of the stream of tendency; tokens of the everlasting +effort to produce, which even in its worst estate the soul betrays. Art +has not yet come to its maturity if it do not put itself abreast with +the most potent influences of the world, if it is not practical and +moral, if it do not stand in connection with the conscience, if it do +not make the poor and uncultivated feel that it addresses them with a +voice of lofty cheer. There is higher work for Art than the arts. They +are abortive births of an imperfect or vitiated instinct. Art is +the need to create; but in its essence, immense and universal, it is +impatient of working with lame or tied hands, and of making cripples and +monsters, such as all pictures and statues are. Nothing less than the +creation of man and nature is its end. A man should find in it an outlet +for his whole energy. He may paint and carve only as long as he can do +that. Art should exhilarate, and throw down the walls of circumstance +on every side, awakening in the beholder the same sense of universal +relation and power which the work evinced in the artist, and its highest +effect is to make new artists. + +Already History is old enough to witness the old age and disappearance +of particular arts. The art of sculpture is long ago perished to any +real effect. It was originally a useful art, a mode of writing, a +savage's record of gratitude or devotion, and among a people possessed +of a wonderful perception of form this childish carving was refined to +the utmost splendor of effect. But it is the game of a rude and youthful +people, and not the manly labor of a wise and spiritual nation. Under an +oak-tree loaded with leaves and nuts, under a sky full of eternal eyes, +I stand in a thoroughfare; but in the works of our plastic arts and +especially of sculpture, creation is driven into a corner. I cannot hide +from myself that there is a certain appearance of paltriness, as of toys +and the trumpery of a theatre, in sculpture. Nature transcends all our +moods of thought, and its secret we do not yet find. But the gallery +stands at the mercy of our moods, and there is a moment when it becomes +frivolous. I do not wonder that Newton, with an attention habitually +engaged on the paths of planets and suns, should have wondered what the +Earl of Pembroke found to admire in "stone dolls." Sculpture may serve +to teach the pupil how deep is the secret of form, how purely the spirit +can translate its meanings into that eloquent dialect. But the statue +will look cold and false before that new activity which needs to roll +through all things, and is impatient of counterfeits and things not +alive. Picture and sculpture are the celebrations and festivities of +form. But true art is never fixed, but always flowing. The sweetest +music is not in the oratorio, but in the human voice when it speaks from +its instant life tones of tenderness, truth, or courage. The oratorio +has already lost its relation to the morning, to the sun, and the earth, +but that persuading voice is in tune with these. All works of art should +not be detached, but extempore performances. A great man is a new statue +in every attitude and action. A beautiful woman is a picture which +drives all beholders nobly mad. Life may be lyric or epic, as well as a +poem or a romance. + +A true announcement of the law of creation, if a man were found worthy +to declare it, would carry art up into the kingdom of nature, and +destroy its separate and contrasted existence. The fountains of +invention and beauty in modern society are all but dried up. A popular +novel, a theatre, or a ball-room makes us feel that we are all paupers +in the alms-house of this world, without dignity, without skill or +industry. Art is as poor and low. The old tragic Necessity, which lowers +on the brows even of the Venuses and the Cupids of the antique, and +furnishes the sole apology for the intrusion of such anomalous figures +into nature,--namely, that they were inevitable; that the artist was +drunk with a passion for form which he could not resist, and which +vented itself in these fine extravagances,--no longer dignifies the +chisel or the pencil. But the artist and the connoisseur now seek in art +the exhibition of their talent, or an asylum from the evils of life. +Men are not well pleased with the figure they make in their own +imaginations, and they flee to art, and convey their better sense in +an oratorio, a statue, or a picture. Art makes the same effort which +a sensual prosperity makes; namely to detach the beautiful from the +useful, to do up the work as unavoidable, and, hating it, pass on to +enjoyment. These solaces and compensations, this division of beauty from +use, the laws of nature do not permit. As soon as beauty is sought, not +from religion and love but for pleasure, it degrades the seeker. High +beauty is no longer attainable by him in canvas or in stone, in sound, +or in lyrical construction; an effeminate, prudent, sickly beauty, which +is not beauty, is all that can be formed; for the hand can never execute +any thing higher than the character can inspire. + +The art that thus separates is itself first separated. Art must not be +a superficial talent, but must begin farther back in man. Now men do not +see nature to be beautiful, and they go to make a statue which shall +be. They abhor men as tasteless, dull, and inconvertible, and console +themselves with color-bags and blocks of marble. They reject life as +prosaic, and create a death which they call poetic. They despatch the +day's weary chores, and fly to voluptuous reveries. They eat and drink, +that they may afterwards execute the ideal. Thus is art vilified; the +name conveys to the mind its secondary and bad senses; it stands in the +imagination as somewhat contrary to nature, and struck with death from +the first. Would it not be better to begin higher up,--to serve the +ideal before they eat and drink; to serve the ideal in eating and +drinking, in drawing the breath, and in the functions of life? Beauty +must come back to the useful arts, and the distinction between the fine +and the useful arts be forgotten. If history were truly told, if life +were nobly spent, it would be no longer easy or possible to distinguish +the one from the other. In nature, all is useful, all is beautiful. It +is therefore beautiful because it is alive, moving, reproductive; it +is therefore useful because it is symmetrical and fair. Beauty will +not come at the call of a legislature, nor will it repeat in England or +America its history in Greece. It will come, as always, unannounced, and +spring up between the feet of brave and earnest men. It is in vain that +we look for genius to reiterate its miracles in the old arts; it is its +instinct to find beauty and holiness in new and necessary facts, in the +field and road-side, in the shop and mill. Proceeding from a religious +heart it will raise to a divine use the railroad, the insurance office, +the joint-stock company; our law, our primary assemblies, our commerce, +the galvanic battery, the electric jar, the prism, and the chemist's +retort; in which we seek now only an economical use. Is not the selfish +and even cruel aspect which belongs to our great mechanical works, to +mills, railways, and machinery, the effect of the mercenary impulses +which these works obey? When its errands are noble and adequate, a +steamboat bridging the Atlantic between Old and New England and arriving +at its ports with the punctuality of a planet, is a step of man into +harmony with nature. The boat at St. Petersburg, which plies along the +Lena by magnetism, needs little to make it sublime. When science is +learned in love, and its powers are wielded by love, they will appear +the supplements and continuations of the material creation. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Essays, First Series, by Ralph Waldo Emerson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ESSAYS, FIRST SERIES *** + +***** This file should be named 2944.txt or 2944.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/4/2944/ + +Produced by Tony Adam + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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